Wedding Season is Almost Here and Love #Poetry is in Bloom! #poems #ASMSG #IARTG


POL wedding

The wedding season is almost upon us and love is in the air. The bride and groom (bride/bride or groom/groom) are tending to last minute details while the guests are scrambling to find the perfect gift. I love this time of the year not for the wedding event per se but for the celebration of lifelong love. The marriage vows, not the wedding, are what matters.

What do the vows have to do with it? The vows a couple makes in front of friends, family, complete strangers and the Universe bind their love, devotion and commitment. The vows are the expression of their love, in poetry form.

On our wedding day, MR N and I agreed to write out our own vows. We wanted to express to our guests that we were committed to each other and that our unconditional love would last. This is the vow MR N recited:

On my wedding day, I’m honored to be here

In front of friends, family and God, with my soul mate by my side.

 

I often thought I’d walk the long road of life alone.

I was ready to give up on love, then the miracle happened, you came back to me.

Joelle, you’re my beautiful angel.

I’m so lucky and blessed this day, I’m marrying the girl of my dreams.

 

My heart’s beating so fast, I’m so full of love for you.

You’re my best friend, my soul mate, my life partner, for now and eternity.

I just want to thank you for being mine.

And thank God for letting me have this, my perfect dream come true.

You, Joelle, as my wife.

I love you.

© 2016 N. N. Light, All rights reserved

Heart-felt words straight from one groom’s soul to his beloved bride. I’m sure many brides are emotional at their wedding but hearing those words come from the man I love, yup, I totally cried. But that’s okay, for they were tears of overflowing love; I just couldn’t hold it in.

Poetry, especially love poetry, is nothing more than emotions on a page. Poems don’t have to follow certain rules or format, just honest. So, go ahead and write down a poem to the one you love.

A toast to all the wedding couples:

May your love bind you, protect you, strengthen you

All the days of your lives.

Be your beloved’s partner in everything you do.

Love them with respect and honor.

Never go to bed angry.

Talk out everything and be honest yet caring.

Use your words to uplift but never tear down.

Accept your lover’s quirks and see the beauty within.

Walk this life together, holding hands, and nothing can separate you.

© 2017 N. N. Light, All rights reserved.

Need a wedding gift? Consider our collection of love poetry. It’s a modern-day courtship and 100% true.

poetry-of-love-the-engagementyear-jpg

Title: Poetry of Love: The Engagement Year

Author: N. N. Light

Genre: Poetry, Love Poetry

Book Blurb:

Amazon #1 Best-Seller and Hot New Release

 

I had been searching for love my whole life. It took the opening up of the world via technology for me to find my soulmate. Once I laid eyes on her, at the arrivals gate, I knew I was never going to let her go. The following is a collection of poems I wrote to my angel, from our first meeting up until our wedding day. I was working crazy hours as a chef and I had a long commute. I chose my commuting time to pen her a poem each day. These poems speak of our life, our challenges and our growth together…in every aspect they speak of our love.

May this book give someone the courage to let their special someone know how much they care for them and how much they mean to them. Saying I love you is a gift you can give many times a day.

Buy Links:

Available at Amazon Worldwide or FREE on Kindle Unlimited:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Poetry-Love-Engagement-N-Light-ebook/dp/B01M13IKRH

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Poetry-Love-Engagement-N-Light-ebook/dp/B01M13IKRH

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Poetry-Love-Engagement-N-Light-ebook/dp/B01M13IKRH

Barnes and Noble Paperback: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/poetry-of-love-n-n-light/1124641362?ean=9781537641706

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32054659-poetry-of-love

Author Biography: N. N. Light is the bestselling husband-wife writing team, commonly known as Mr. N and Mrs. N. Mrs. N. has been creating stories ever since she was little. Her grandfather remembers when she was two years old, she would stand at the top of the stairs and tell him a story filled with emotion (and in a language foreign to him) with her hands on her hips. Let’s just say she was a born storyteller.

They’re blissfully happy and love all things chocolate, books, music, movies, art, sports, trains, history, cooking and baking. Their mantra is to spread the Light.

Most of the time you can find them on Twitter or getting new ideas on how to spread the Light on Pinterest. They’re a proud member of ASMSG and Independent Author Network.

Subscribe to their author newsletter and you’ll be eligible to win $5 Amazon gift card monthly: 

In addition to being authors, they’re also book promoters/reviewers, social media marketers/influencers and the owners of N. N. Light Author Promotions. They both love books, have ever since they were young. Matching up books and readers is something that gives them great pleasure.

They’d love to connect with you either via email or via these various social media sites:

Website: http://princessofthelight.com

Blog: https://princessofthelight.wordpress.com

Newsletter: 

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/nnlight

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/NNP_W_Light

Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-n-light

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LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/n-n-light/90/1a7/902

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/118060034268079734144/posts

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/nnlight

Independent Author Network: http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/n-n-light.html

Humans Inferior to #Werewolves? Hungry Like the Wolf by @CadenceDenton #paranormal #FridayReads


Hungry Like A Wolf

 

Title: Hungry Like the Wolf (Wicked Palate Book 2)

Author: Cadence Denton

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Paranormal, Werewolves

 

Book Blurb:

With her racist rant going viral, Foodie Network star, Marla Sheen aka America’s favorite grandmother, was having a bad week. Marla didn’t know what the fuss was about. She’d only spoken the truth—humans are inferior to lupo manaren. The problem is the human world knows nothing about werewolves, red drinkers, or any of the other Shadowlands citizens. When her attempts at damage control blow up in her face, she decides that appearing on the Dr. Bill show may not have been the best move, but hey, what else can possibly go wrong?

 

A whole lot as it happens.

 

The Captain, her mate and co-Alpha, is challenged for pack leadership by a much younger male and winds up in the hospital. A prickly wizard is sent in by the Shadowlands Congress to make certain Marla doesn’t out the supernatural community, and a man-stealing Jezebel of an ex-best friend shows up at her door. And that’s just the beginning.

 

When Marla turns to her friend, Contessa, for help, she discovers the Contessa is a continent away and has troubles of her own.

 

Hungry Like the Wolf is Book 2 in the Wicked Palate series.

 

Midnight Delight is Book 1.

 

Extra Virgin, Book 3 Coming Soon

 

Extended Excerpt:

One

 

“Ready, Marla? In three, two…” the young man mouthed one and the Taping in Progress light came on.

I folded my hands on my lap, taking a moment to admire my fresh Pucker Up Pink manicure before I looked up, gazing into the camera’s lens. Pinching the tender web of flesh between my thumb and forefinger, my vision blurred with tears right on cue. Take note you show biz wannabes, this little trick works every time.

“I’m sorry, y’all,” I drawled, tears making my voice rough. Normally, America hears me laugh. To hear me cry would be something totally different. Hopefully it would tug on their heart strings.

I pinched harder, blinked, and felt a tear roll down my cheek. “Using…uh…language…that is…I mean…inappropriate language is…er…hurtful to…um…”

Dang it all, the tears were flowing but I’d forgotten my lines. Not what one would expect from a professional of my caliber, but it wasn’t really my fault. You might say my heart wasn’t in it. After all, I’d done nothing wrong.

“Cut! Cut!” my grandson called. At twenty-two, Eugene is my son Samuel and his mate, Hannah’s oldest and my self-appointed assistant.

He’s slender (like his mother) and tall (like his father), with shoulder length brown hair that swings with every twitch of his head. His chin is covered in a dark fuzz that he calls a beard and I call lint. Today he wore black skinny jeans, white Converse sneaks, and a gray cashmere sweater pulled over a black striped button down. Black horn rimmed glasses framed his bright cornflower blue eyes (a gift from yours truly).

“What is it now, Eugene?” I snapped, the tears vanishing like a Death Valley mirage.

“Did you even read the script, Nana?” He asked tugging off his glasses.

“Gosh darn-it, Eugene! Yes, I read the danged script but with all this…” I swung an arm wide and gave my head a toss encompassing the cameraman, sound man, and the other hangers on, “foolishness I’ve been a little distracted. I mean, what did I do that was so wrong? I didn’t fire a handicapped person. I didn’t bad mouth the President. Please tell me, what did I do that warrants me giving a world-wide apology?”

“Really, Nana? You were caught in the middle of a racist rant. Even worse, the video of your rant was leaked to TMZ and Radar Online and is playing non-stop on CNN and MSNBC.”

“Poo!” I said rolling my eyes. “I only spoke the truth. Compared to the lupo manaren, humans are an inferior race. Their senses of smell, sight, hearing, and taste are equal to a slug’s. Don’t frown. You know it’s true!”

He cast a glance over his shoulder, and said, “I know Nana, but the humans…”

“Are a nasty, smelly race,” I finished in my because I said so tone.

Eugene plowed both hands through his hair as though he wanted to rip it out and said through gritted teeth, “You’re angry because a human chef won the Culinary Arts Outstanding Chef Award.”

I growled—an involuntary reflex in a lupo manaro when threatened or sassed by a young pup that needed his pants dusted. He knew that was a sore subject for me. He also knew we were in mixed company and was thus safe from said dusting of pants.

Sniffing, I smoothed a wrinkle from my skirt. “The award should have been mine—Stuart Poser stole it from me. He bribed the judges.”

Eugene clapped a hand to his mouth. “He did?” He gasped.

“Well, he must have,” I hedged casting him a sullen gaze from beneath my lashes. “It was the only way he could possibly win.”

Stuart Poser was a human chef on the Cooking Today channel, a rival network. His shows, Stuart’s Sumptuous Sundries and Poser’s Pork, were in the same time slot as my own on the Foodie Culinary Channel. I consistently beat him in the ratings, but that was before my political correctness went off the reservation.

Eugene sighed, and in a tone that said he’d heard this more than once and that he was trying to reason with someone to who reason is an alien concept, said, “Yes. I know, Nana, but you must have proof to back up your accusation. The problem is that when you called Poser’s race filthy, talentless, and inferior the human press thought you meant his race-race.”

“Well, I did!” I exclaimed throwing my hands wide. “He’s a member of the human race, an inferior race. Mind you, he can’t help that he was born human and not lupo manaro, but… ” I shrugged. “…you can’t alter the facts.”

Another sigh. “That’s not… You don’t understand. Dammit, Nana!”

“You watch your mouth, boy,” I snapped, my slow, southern, cane syrup speech becoming weaponized, a rigid billy club to flatten any and all impertinence.

Once more, Eugene plowed his hands through his hair and spun around to face me. “Nana, they think you meant his ethnicity.” Ethnicity? What in the hell was the young pup talking about now?

At my blank gaze he continued. “You know, the color of his coat, er—his skin, not that he is of the human race.”

I frowned. “What the blazes does his skin color have to do with it? That makes no sense, Eugene!”

My grandson removed the horn-rimmed glasses with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other, as though massaging away a headache. “Can you please concentrate on why we’re here? It doesn’t matter if you don’t understand, Nana. We’re trying to put out the fire you started. You know, do damage control.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I sighed, drumming my Pucker up Pink nails on my lap. “Who cares what the humans think,” I grumbled.

“Not humans, Nana, the Congress. Remember them? The ruling body of the Shadowlands. Does that ring a bell?”

The Shadowlands Congress is the governing branch of the paranormal world and its citizens. Made up of red drinkers, lupo manaren, the fae, giants, wee folk, mer people, and others, the Shadowlands is the world hidden in shadows. It had to be. Every time humanity got a peek behind the veil, Shadowland citizens suffered. There was one unbreakable law that every Shadowlander learned from birth: Don’t expose the Shadowlands to humanity. To do so would result in anything from a slap on the wrist (which was always, always much more intense than the human version) to the ultimate punishment— death in some species, banishment in others.

I was balancing on the edge, just shy of crossing the line of exposure. The Shadowland Congress had taken an interest in my poor choice of words which seemed like overkill.

I’ve been told that when I get angry, my blue eyes become spooky, frightening even. It’s said that they look as though they’re not eyes at all, but living gas blue flames dancing in my eye sockets. Whatever. All I know is that when I settled my gaze on my grandson in one breath, possibly two, he was biting his bottom lip and nervously scrubbing the lens of his glasses with the hem of his cardigan sweater.

“If you think I won’t come over there and tan your bottom for you, just keep it up, Eugene!” I gave my head an angry toss then turned to Killer, a lupo manaro cameraman and said, “Who, in their right mind, would hang a name like ‘Eugene’ on a child, for the moon’s sake?”

Killer just smiled and shrugged. “My daughter-in-law wouldn’t budge, and believe me, we went round and round on that one,” I finished in a loud aside before turning back to my red-faced grandson.

“Dammit, Nana! You know I had no say in what I was named.”

“Why Hannah insisted on saddling you with that…” I paused waving my hand in a small circle as though to encompass the enormity of this injustice. “travesty is beyond me. I did not approve, but of course my son would back his mate,” I finished with a sniff.

With his face an interesting blend of red and white, Eugene stiffly set the glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “It’s a family name,” he insisted.

“It’s ridiculous,” I snapped putting my hands on my hips almost daring him to say anything else on the matter. What was it with young people nowadays? No respect. No manners. Full of sass and a bunch of know nothing know-it-alls. Well, I wasn’t taking it from any of the pack’s pups—not as long as Marla Sheen and the Captain were the Alpha’s of the Southeastern Lupo Manaren Conglomerate.

With ears standing out of his limp dark hair like a pair of red stop signs, my grandson squeaked, “Why don’t we take a short break?”

I looked skyward, like I could find the answers drifting around with the ceiling fan. I gave my head one solemn shake then snatched up a glass of iced sweet tea.

“Ms. Sheen?”

I glanced up over the rim of the glass and raised a quizzical brow to mask the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Not her again. “You gotta problem with your hearin’, sugar? I told you no.”

The woman was slender to the point of emaciation. Her sleek, white suit clung to her like a second skin. Straight blond hair cut in a reverse bob, swung around high cheekbones, a wide jawline, and almond shaped hazel eyes. It was obvious to even the least observant that the woman was a Dr. Bill sycophant. She certainly espoused the good “doctor’s” dietary maxims. She was obviously human. No lupo manaro would look this frail unless she was ill.

The woman shrugged. “Surely you know Dr. Bill is a Texas cattleman. No isn’t in his vocabulary.”

I snorted. “I know he’s full of the bull he raises,” I muttered and took a sip of tea.

The woman backed up a step and positioned her hands on slender hips. “The Dr. Bill Show is the number one talk show in the United States. His goal is to reach out and aid those in need. He believes in keeping it real, and that being honest, if only to yourself, is best for maintaining healthy relationships and a healthy life. Naturally, he feels his show would be the perfect platform for you to get your side of the story out.”

“The perfect platform to put me on the grill and barbeque me like a side of ribs, you mean,” I said and grabbed a dish of banana pudding from a sideboard. Okay, so I’m a stress eater. I can’t help it and besides, my pudding is a blue ribbon winner.

“You misunderstand the doctor’s intent, Ms. Sheen,” the woman said her eyes narrowed as she tried to come at me from a different angle. “He wants to help you. It’s what he does.”

“Honey,” I said around a mouth full of bananas, vanilla wafers, and whipped cream. “Don’t bullshit an old bullshitter. Bill’s goal is to keep his ratings high, that’s ‘what he does’.” I made finger quotations before dipping up another spoonful of pudding and popping it in my mouth.

The woman scowled at me for a moment and then her face smoothed. “I understand how you must feel, how much stress you must be under, and can only assure you that the doctor truly has your best interests at heart.”

Oh, brother. I rolled my eyes and made a rude noise.

“Really!” she huffed.

I flashed her my million dollar smile (more like fifty grand, but that’s on a need to know basis) and said, “Now, let’s put on our listening ears. I am not interested today, tomorrow, or ever of being on the Dr. Bill show. So, why don’t you just toddle on back to that snake oil salesman and tell him…”

“Nana!”

Eugene seemed to spring out of thin air, one arm spinning like an airplane propeller. We both turned to him, surprise covering the face of the young woman, while I was filled with a mixture of relief and consternation.

“For the moon’s sake, boy, what has crawled up your shorts and bit your as—er—behind?”

“It’s an emergency!”

“I can see that. What happened, the store run out of your special shampoo?” I asked eyeing his long hair with an air of disapproval. I think a man should look like a man with a decent haircut and a clean shaved face.

“No. Not that. It’s Gramps…I mean the Captain. He’s been challenged…” He cast a quick look at Dr. Bill’s assistant who was listening in obvious interest then back at me with a guilty grimace. “I mean, there’s an emergency at the compound!” He finally finished, almost flinging the cell phone at my nose.

My face lost all feeling. Seriously, it felt like my body had been freeze dried and suddenly I felt every minute, every damn second, of my one hundred sixty-seven years. I was embarrassed to discover that I was trembling. Hey, I’m a tough old broad, but hearing that my husband was facing a fight to the death showdown would freak anyone out.

I grabbed the phone as though it was a live grenade and gingerly held it to my ear. Listening, my gaze skated over my idiot grandson and the silent crew, assistants, and friends to briefly land on Dr. Bill’s producer who, I couldn’t help but notice, watched me intently through slit eyes, a small flip notebook and pen in her hands.

“Stall them. I’m on my way,” I ordered and dropped the phone into Eugene’s waiting palm. I’m the co-Alpha of the freaking South Eastern Lupo Maneren Conglomerate. I’m accustomed to having my orders obeyed. They had better, by the Moon, be obeyed.

Thrusting the bowl at the nosy woman, I called for someone, anyone to help me find my damn purse and when it materialized like a David Copperfield magic trick, I sprinted for the door like Usain Bolt.

Somehow, Dr. Bill’s Stepford wife beat me to it and then positioned herself in front of the door, blocking my escape. I could think of nothing but getting to my vehicle and racing home.

Challenge. The word sent an electric spark down my spine that branched into questions I could not answer. Who challenged? Who effing dared to challenge? And, why now? More immediate, why was this human standing between me and my pack?

“I see you have a family emergency,” she said, her tone of concern offset by her calculating expression. “Perhaps we could book you for next Thursday’s taping instead?”

“What?” I asked, blinking in confusion. What was the fool woman talking about? Couldn’t she see I had to leave? Why was she blocking the door?

“Can I tell Dr. Bill that taping the show next week is better for you?” she purred.

“Show,” I repeated, uncomprehending.

“You probably should do the show,” Eugene said slowly. “It might help to clear up this mess.”

I sighed. I couldn’t care less about the humans and their prickly sensibilities. They could do with a little more tough love and a whole lot less molly coddling, but still, it might be better for the pack if I made an appearance on the good doctor’s show. I exhaled, and fearing it was a mistake said, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

I was desperate to get home to my mate’s side. The thought of my gruff, roly-poly mate facing a challenger for pack leadership was shocking. Only blood members could challenge and I knew of no one who wanted the headache of taking up the pack’s reins.

Besides, my husband wasn’t in any shape to face a challenge. The pack’s doctor had been warning the Captain about his diet and the need to put down the knife and fork and get on a treadmill, but the man loves my cooking and, God help me, I love to cook for him. What scared the be-Jesus out of me was the niggling thought that maybe my cooking would impact his fighting skills. You know, slow his reaction time, hinder his movements. Maybe my cooking would really kill my mate.

 

 

Grab Your E-Copy Now:

Universal Link https://www.books2read.com/u/3G0KOm

 

Cadence Denton

 

Author Biography:

I’m an odd mixture of one part dreamer, one part realist, and two parts stubborn–which can be a positive thing if you’re a writer. Not content to write in just one genre, I write dark paranormal romance, time travel, light science fiction, romantic comedy, and gritty romantic thrillers. Told you I was stubborn (that and a little crazy!). Besides, doing the same thing day after day can become boring and we can do with a little less boring, right?

 

Visit my website for more information on all my series and upcoming projects. You may not find everything to your liking but you won’t be bored.

You can reach me at cadencedenton@cadencedenton.com

 

Sign up for Cadence’s newsletter at http://cadencedenton.com  for the latest news, great giveaways, and sneak peeks at new projects.

 

 

Social Media Links:

You can find also me on Facebook Instagram Pinterest Twitter TSU Independent Author Network ASMSG

“They’ll come for me again…” Amnesia by @cambriahebert #CoverReveal! #RomanticSuspense




 

Amnesia
Cambria Hebert
Publication date: June 12th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

 

I washed ashore in a little lake town.

A place where everyone knows everyone, yet…

No one knows me.

I don’t know me.

If a woman doesn’t know her own name, does she really exist?

I don’t know my natural hair color, my birthdate, or where I live.

I am invisible.

To everyone, to everything, even to myself.

Except to him.

I see the recognition deep in his stare, the way it lingers on my face as if I’m a puzzle he’s desperate to put together.

I just want answers, the truth… knowledge.

His lips are sealed. Still, his eyes beguile me.

I can’t trust anyone, not even myself. Someone wants me dead, the same someone who tried to bury me in a watery grave.

They’ll come for me again… I won’t know their face.

I don’t even know mine.

I am amnesia.

 

Add to Goodreads

 

Author Bio:

 

Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.

 

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).

 

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.

 

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Pinterest

 

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Meet Jack and Darci From A SEAL’s Song by Jennifer Lowery + a #FREE book! #romance #books


Download for FREE May 23-25!!!-2

Hi N. N. Light’s POTL Blog and all you fabulous readers out there * waves * Thank you so much for having me today! I’m super excited to be here! I have a couple giveaways and a free book to offer you so read on to find out how to take advantage of fun, free books!

 

Ever since I picked up my first Suzanne Brockmann Navy SEAL book I’ve been in love with these tough, incredibly intelligent men. I knew I had to write my own series with my own SEAL team. A SEAL’s Song is the first book in my SEAL Team Alpha series and what an incredible journey it was for both me and my characters! Today, I’m bringing you a special interview with the hero and heroine from A SEAL’s Song. I hope you enjoy meeting Jack and Darci as much as I enjoyed writing them. 

 

P.S. A SEAL’s Song is FREE on Amazon May 23-25 so be sure to grab your free copy HERE!

 

Did you ever think that your life would end up being in a book?

Jack: Hell, no.

Darci: No, but it’s flattering.

 

What are your favorite scenes in your book: the action, the dialog or the romance?

Darci: * smiles * The romance. I already know what Jack is going to say.

Jack: * grins * Sorry, hun. The action. And the sex.

* Darci rolls her eyes *

 

What do you like to do when you are not being actively read somewhere?

Jack: Take my sailboat out deep-sea fishing.

Darci: I’m not much for fishing, that’s Jack’s thing. I’m usually in my studio writing and composing songs. But, when he gets home… * she smiles at Jack who grins back *

 

Do you like the way the book ended?

Jack and Darci in unison: Yes.

 

Would you be interested in a sequel, if your writer was so inclined?

Jack: Not if it means putting Darci in more danger.

Darci: Agreed. Although, with Jack at my side, I wouldn’t be as afraid of what Jennifer threw at us. * leans in and whispers * She likes to torment us.

 

What do you do for a living?

Darci: * laces her fingers through Jacks * Jack is a Navy SEAL and the bravest, strongest man I know. I’m a singer.

 

What is your most prized possession?

Darci: A Celtic necklace given to me by my grandmother. Had it not been for that necklace, I never would have met Jack.

 

What do you like most about where you live?

Jack: Darci approved of my house. That’s all that matters to me.

Darci: He lives in this cute gingerbread house on the ocean. I adore it.

 

What’s your favorite thing to do on a rainy Sunday?

Jack: * grins * Stay in bed.

Darci: * nods * Definitely.

 

What is your least favorite word?

Darci: Classified.

 

What sound or noise do you love?

Jack: Sorry, that’s between me and my wife. * an intimate look passes between Jack and Darci *

 

What other profession would you like to try?

Darci: I’ve considered becoming a music teacher. Jack, he’s right where he was meant to be.

Jack: * nods *

 

 

Did you get your FREE copy of A SEAL’s Song? Yay and thank you! Want a chance to win an e-book off my backlist? (told you I like to give stuff away!) Just click on the rafflecopter link below and enter to win!! Good luck! Oh, and keep reading for a BONUS offer!

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

Jennifer Lowery Author pic

Meet Jennifer:

NY Times & USA Today bestselling author, Jennifer Lowery grew up reading romance novels in the back of her math book and on the bus to school, and never wanted to be anything but a writer. Her summers were spent sitting at the kitchen table with her sisters spinning tales of romance and intrigue and always with a tall glass of ice tea at their side.

Today, Jennifer is living that dream and she couldn’t be happier to share her passion with her readers. She loves everything there is about romance. Her stories feature alpha heroes who meet their match with strong, independent heroines. She believes that happily ever after is only the beginning of her stories. And the road to that happy ending is paved with action, adventure, and romance. As her characters find out when they face danger, overcome fears, and are forced to look deep within themselves to discover love.

Jennifer lives in Michigan with her husband and two children. When she isn’t writing she enjoys reading and spending time with her family.

 

Connect with Jennifer:

Read more about her books on her website: http://jenniferloweryauthor.com/

Join her on Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jenniferlowery/

And on Twitter: https://twitter.com/JLoweryauthor

Please “like” her Facebook author page! https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJenniferLowery/

Sign up for Jennifer’s Newsletter and get a FREE book: http://jenniferloweryauthor.com/join-my-newsletter/

Join Jennifer’s Street Team: http://jenniferloweryauthor.com/join-my-street-team/

 

***BONUS***

For everyone who signs up for my NEWSLETTER you will receive an e-book copy of my short story, Taking Chances ($.99 value) for FREE!

 

Thank you for having me today, N. N. Light!! I just want to send out a big THANK YOU to all my readers out there! Without you I wouldn’t be here. My wish is to one-day meet each and every one of you so I can personally thank you for your generosity and support! 

 

All my best, 

Jennifer

“Is it too late for second chances?” The Rebel’s Redemption by @JacqBiggar #romanticsuspense


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Title: The Rebel’s Redemption (Book 2 Wounded Hearts Series)

Author: Jacquie Biggar

Genre: Romantic Suspense

 

Book Blurb:

Is it too late for second chances?

 

Jared Martin left Tidal Falls a hotheaded youth. Eight years in the military has turned him into a cynical, disillusioned man.

 

Then he returns home to find out he’s a father.

 

When an old enemy follows and causes mayhem in the small town, can Jared overcome the odds to protect the woman he’s always loved and the child he never knew?

 

Or is it be too late for them to have a second chance?

 

Excerpt:

Jared’s world narrowed down to the little black barrel of the gun pointed at his chest. Funny, in all the years of being in the SEAL teams he’d never been in this situation. Not to say he hadn’t dodged his share of bullets. It’s just they’d always erupted like a hailstorm, out of nowhere. This was somewhere. The back alley of his mother’s freaking café in freaking America to be exact. What the hell?

 

If he wasn’t so pissed off at himself for getting into this situation, he might have laughed. Eight years overseas off and on, and he was going to get shot in his own backyard. How’s that for ironic?

 

“Look man, why don’t we talk about this?” Jared forced his gaze to focus on Sergei’s steely gaze instead of the muzzle of the semi-automatic.

 

“The time for talk is past,” the Russian said. “You ignored my advice and instead made a fool out of me with that stupid trick you performed.”

 

“Advice? You call beating the livin’ shit out of me, advice?” Jared ground his teeth together, and fought to keep a level tone. “You can’t blame a guy for wanting to retaliate.” A crash by the garbage caused both men to crouch into a fight stance. A tabby cat raced away. Jared straightened, his heart knocking against his ribcage, as desperate to escape this mess as the animal. He needed to defuse the situation before someone came upon them; please God not his mom.

 

“Okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t have set off alarms or caused those slots to pay out. But seriously dude, you can’t go around acting all KGB, we’re in the good old USA now.” Jared kept a careful eye on the guy’s trigger finger and cursed his loose tongue. What part of defuse couldn’t he figure out?

 

Sergei tipped his felt hat back on his bald head like an old time gunslinger. His hand holding the gun never wavered. “You have big mouth.”

 

Yeah, I’ve heard that a time or ten.

 

“Why don’t we handle this like two adults? I’ll call your boss, tell him I screwed up and it’ll never happen again…” There was no doubt on that, if he ever went near a casino again he’d kick his own ass. “And then you can go back to ruling your little kingdom far, far, away.”

 

Click.

 

Buy it at your favorite retailer for only $1.00 USD (other countries are slightly higher): https://books2read.com/u/bpGwPJ

 

 

Enter to win fun prizes every month: https://jacqbiggar.com/giveaways/

 

Jacquie Biggar

 

Author Biography:

JACQUIE BIGGAR  is a USA Today bestselling author of Romantic Suspense who loves to write about tough, alpha males who know what they want, that is until they’re gob-smacked by heroines who are strong, contemporary women willing to show them what they really need is love. She is the author of the popular Wounded Hearts series and has just started a new series in paranormal suspense, Mended Souls.

 

She has been blessed with a long, happy marriage and enjoys writing romance novels that end with happily-ever-afters.

 

Jacquie lives in paradise along the west coast of Canada with her family and loves reading, writing, and flower gardening. She swears she can’t function without coffee, preferably at the beach with her sweetheart. 🙂

 

Social Media Links:

http://jacqbiggar.com

http://Facebook.com/jacqbiggar

http://Facebook.com/jacquiebiggar

 

Facebook Street Team:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1051448161572521/

 

Twitter http://Twitter.com/jacqbiggar

Amazon Author Page http://amazon.com/author/jacquiebiggar

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/JacquieBiggar

Pinterest http://Pinterest.com/jacqbiggar

Google+ https://plus.google.com/+JacquieBiggar

Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jacquie-biggar

 

Newsletter-

https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h6c2n8

Charlie’s Family Secret Omnibus Edition by @CharJGordon #books #womensfiction


Charlie's Family Secret

 

Title: Charlie’s Family Secret Omnibus Edition

Author: Charmaine Gordon

Genre: Romance/Suspense

Publisher: Vanilla Heart

 

Book Blurb:

3 Charmaine Gordon Novels in 1 Volume!

Reconstructing Charlie
Charlie Costigan has a secret. Home life gone from bad to the worst when she protects her mother from another vicious attack by her drunken father. Midnight. Clothes thrown into an old suitcase, she races for the bus with a letter to an unknown aunt and uncle. “This is my daughter. Embrace her as if she were your own.” Determined, Charlie begins again. Alone with her secret.

Sin of Omission
A twist of fate intervenes when Shelley keeps a secret that threatens to break apart the Costigans and her future. A mysterious client, Deanna Rose, enters Haven, victim of a savage beating under strange circumstances. Shelley investigates and finds Ms. Rose has an unsavory past. With the reputation and safety of Haven at stake, Shelley is at risk to lose everything and everyone she cares about.

The Catch
Tom Donnelly, once known as The Catch – every woman’s dream guy, has fallen down every rung of the ladder he once worked so hard to climb. On New Year’s Day, he realizes just how far he’s fallen, and makes a list of resolutions to change his life. He vows to regain the trust lost from his family, his law firm, and his friends – and maybe even find the right woman this time.

 

Excerpt:

“I need you, Jimmy Costigan”

Words he’d heard since childhood chilled him. Not again. Oh please, not again.

Strong hands gripped the tall cowboy and spun him around and he wasn’t an easy man to spin. In high heels, Shelley Jackson faced him eye to eye,

“Just when I was makin’ a clean getaway,” he said. “Whatcha need now?”

“You. I’m alone with hostage survivors and no one to help me.”

“Hostage?”

“Didn’t your sister tell you or maybe you weren’t listening.”

“Whoa.” He held up a calloused hand. “What happened?”

“How are you with small children?”

A profound pain hit him in the gut. “The best,” he said.

“Great. see if they’ll confide in you.”

 

Giveaway:

One commenter will win an e-copy of Sin of Omission. All you have to do is answer this question:

 

What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when seeing this title: Sin of Omission? Creativity encouraged.

 

Open Internationally. Comment below from May 24 – May 29. Winner will be picked by Charmaine Gordon on May 30th and the winner will be contacted via email.  

 

Buy Links:

Nook

Kobo

Kindle

Apple

Scribd Subscription  Service

Inktera

 

Charmaine Headshot for Author Central

 

Author Biography:

I write books about women who Survive and thrive. My motto is take one step forward and leave your past behind to begin again; a lesson learned from the loss of my first love.

While working as an actor for many years, I didn’t realize I’d become a sponge soaking up dialogue, setting, and direction from Mike Nichols, Harrison For, Anthony Hopkins and more of the best. I even had one day on Saturday Night Live with Robin Williams. When the sweet time ended because I lost my voice, creative juices flowed and I began to write.

 

Social Media Links:

Twitter @CharJGordon

Facebook http://facebook.com/charmaine.gordon

 

 

Viable Threat by @JulieRoweAuthor #romanticsuspense #books #newrelease #TuesdayBookBlog


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Title: Viable Threat

Author: Julie Rowe

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Publisher: Entangled Publishing

Book Blurb:

Special Forces soldier and medic Walter River would give anything to snatch more than a few seconds of down time to see if he can rattle the no-nonsense and incredibly hot Dr. Lloyd he’s protecting, but dodging explosions, snipers, and student radicals who’ve unleashed a lethal bio-engineered microorganism have made that almost impossible. Maybe he’ll get a chance—if he can figure out how to keep them both alive.

CDC microbiologist Ava Lloyd races to find a cure for a bio-terrorism organism sweeping El Paso. The few stolen moments with her very hunky bodyguard River have been explosive, but no matter how alluring he is, she can’t afford to get distracted. The clock is ticking, people are dying by the hundreds, and once this crisis is solved, they’ll both be off on their next assignment, thousands of miles apart.

Excerpt:

She rested her head against the back of the seat and gave him a strange sort of sad smile. “You know what I’d like to do right now?”

He grunted and wagged his index finger. “That is a trick question.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

He liked seeing the smile on her face. He liked seeing her face, period. “Tell me, Mouse, what would you like to do right now?”

She waved him closer, and he leaned toward her. She did it again, then put a hand on his shoulder and pulled herself up so she could whisper in his ear, “I’d like to take that respirator off you and kiss you, silly.”

She let go of him and resumed her previous position on the seat. He sat perfectly still. It took just about everything in him to not rip the mask off and grant her wish.

“I’m sorry,” she said, with as close to soundless as a voice could get. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

He looked at her and realized she thought he was embarrassed or some shit like that.

“I’m uncomfortable,” he murmured. “Because I’ve had a damned hard-on since I bandaged you up.” Her pupils widened, and her mouth dropped open. “When this is over, you can kiss any part of me you want for as long as you like, just as long as I can return the favor.”

“Oh,” she breathed out. When her tongue licked over her lips, he had to chain his hands to his sides to keep from grabbing her.

Though a blush heated her cheeks, tears filled her eyes until they spilled over and tracked down her face. “Chances are, that’s just a dream.”

It just about killed him to see her so sad. “Hey.” He couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice. “No Negative Nancys allowed on this trip.”

“I’ve got a headache, River. A fever can’t be far behind.”

“That happy bastard Henry is going to come up with some kind of magic potion that will kick this bug’s ass.”

“If that were possible, we’d know.”

“We’ve been so busy blowing sh*t up, we might not have been told.”

She slanted a disbelieving glance at him. “You just spoke with our boss. I think she would have mentioned any magic potions, if they’d been available.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Could you work with me, Mouse? We’ve got a mass murderer to catch, and I need you ready and able to help reel in the son-of-a-bitch.”

“Ah, I see what you’re doing. Trying to put me in a good mood.”

“Jesus f**k, woman, you think I’d tell you how much I want you just to put you in a good mood?” He leaned down, grabbing the top of the seat on either side of her head. “Do I look like a motivational speaker?”

She studied him, her gaze flicking across his face and uniform. Covered in dirt, debris, and blood, he looked like a walking nightmare. “You look like a soldier on a mission.”

“That’s true, but not all of it.” He whispered, “I’ve got another mission. A personal one. You.”

Buy Links:

Entangled Publishing
iBooks
Kobo
Amazon Kindle USA
Paperback at Amazon USA
Amazon Kindle Canada
Paperback at Amazon Canada

julie rowe

Author Biography:

Julie Rowe’s first career as a medical lab technologist in Canada took her to the Northwest Territories and northern Alberta, where she still resides. She loves to include medical details in her romance novels, but admits she’ll never be able to write about all her medical experiences because, “Fiction has to be believable”. Julie writes romantic suspense and romantic military thrillers. Her most recent titles include Viable Threat, the first book in the Disease Control and Enforcement series, and Viral Justice, book three of the Biological Response Team series. You can find her at www.julieroweauthor.com , on Twitter @julieroweauthor or at her Facebook page: www.facebook.com/JulieRoweAuthor

Social Media Links:

www.julieroweauthor.com

Twitter: @julieroweauthor

www.facebook.com/JulieRoweAuthor

For Beau: The Sarah Ashdown Story by @simongandossi Blog Tour #historicalfiction #YALit


For Beau tour banner

 

For Beau: The Sarah Ashdown Story
by Simon Gandossi

 

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Release Date: December 15th 2016

Summary from Goodreads:

The ground shook with each bomb that fell on London. The night sky lit up, and the sounds of gunfire overwhelmed the city as our brave men fought back. It took so many bombs to fall on this great city to make the Germans realize that England could not be defeated. It took just one bomb to make one woman realize her true destiny.

Sarah Ashdown’s insurmountable guilt and remorse over the death of a young girl sets in motion one of the most unbelievable stories of World War II. An ordinary housewife who defied the odds to become one of the most wanted women in occupied Europe, her story of determination and courage will shock and inspire those who read it.

 

 

Add to Goodreads

 

Inspiration Behind For Beau:

I remember like it was yesterday talking to a holocaust survivor during the writing of my first book “Elsa”. Talking to her and hearing how she wanted a different aspect to such a horrific time written inspired me to do just that. For Beau – The Sarah Ashdown Story my second book I took the same inspiration from a lady who experienced the horrors of WW2. I was privileged to be inspired by those who fought for freedom and who had to hold back tears when they spoke to me about their experiences.

 

When you watch a documentary on TV and listen to personal stories most of us feel something. However experiencing the emotion and sadness from hearing stories up close, I was inspired to take things one step further.

 

We all have definitions of heroes and they inspire us in so many ways. My heroes are slowly passing away but they will never stop inspiring me.

 

 

Book Trailer:

 

Buy Links:

Amazon

https://www.amazon.com.au/d/Beau-Sarah-Ashdown-Story-ebook/B01N6JGBQK/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1494053900&sr=1-1&keywords=simon+gandossi

 

Author’s website

www.simongandossi.com

 

Barnes and Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/for-beau-simon-gandossi/1125360929?ean=9781524519872

 

Smashwords

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/for-beau-simon-gandossi/1125360929?ean=9781524519872

 

iTunes

https://itunes.apple.com/nz/book/for-beau/id1188273286?mt=11

 

simon gandossi

 

About the Author:

Simon Gandossi is a historical fiction author who was born and raised in Western Australia. From an early age, Simon discovered a passion for history and writing. It is that passion combined with his desire to bring to light the different aspects of the past that makes him a unique writer. There are a lot of people who give up so much to follow their dreams, and Simon is no different. To become a professional writer is difficult, but his hard work and determination has seen him develop from an amateur to a full-time writer in just a few years. To learn more about Simon, please visit www.simongandossi.com.

“I want everyone to take a step back in time when they read my books. Every book should take the reader on a journey. With my dedication to preserving history, I know that each and every person will begin that journey from the very first word” – Simon Gandossi

 

Author Links:

WebsiteGoodreadsTwitterFacebook

 

 

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Blog Tour Organized by:

YA Bound Book Tours

Escape From Behruz by @judymeadows44 + Help Choose a Character Name and Win! #romance #TWRP


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Title     Escape from Behruz

Author    Judy Meadows

Genre     Contemporary Romance

Publisher The Wild Rose Press

 

Book Blurb

Rashid will escort Olivia and the baby through the mountains to Iran in order to escape the violence in Behruz, but he won’t let Olivia near his heart. Not again. Not after the way she trampled it two years ago.

 

 

Olivia accepts his help, but she has no interest in his heart. She’s never forgiven him for abandoning her when she needed him most. Still, she has to be careful. He mustn’t learn that the baby the world thinks is heir to the Behruzi throne is actually her son. And Rashid’s.

 

 

Can they make it through the trek, sharing a tent each night, without giving in to the attraction that has always drawn them together? Can Olivia hold in the secret that could destroy her?

 

 

Excerpt:

When the meal was over, the women helped her put on her nomad costume. They wanted to do everything. Their hands were all over her, pulling at her sweater and trying to open the snap and zipper of her jeans. They giggled and exclaimed when they saw her small, pale breasts, but the biggest source of delight turned out to be her lacy briefs. She was relieved when they covered her with the new clothes.

 

“This reminds me of a wedding,” Fatima said when they all stepped out of the tent. “When a Qashami girl gets married, the women all help her dress in her wedding clothes and then they escort her to her husband’s tent.”

 

Walking toward the tent of her “husband,” Olivia felt like a bride. The mantle framed her face and fell down her back like a bride’s veil, and the long skirt swayed with every step. Rashid stood in front of the tent talking to Saddiq. He was wearing a long shirt and a wool vest like those worn by the other men. Time stopped for several heartbeats when his eyes fell on Olivia. He seemed to straighten up, to become taller, and everything about him became very still.

 

She met his gaze boldly. The petticoats swished around her legs when she walked. She felt the swing of her arms, the sway of her hips, even the slight bounce of her breasts. All the women stood behind her, waiting for Rashid’s reaction.

 

“Spin around again like you did for us in the tent,” Fatima whispered to Olivia.

 

Rashid’s nomad clothes made him look primitive and very male. His eyes were intent on her, like the eyes of an animal watching its prey. He was motionless except for a slight quivering of his nostrils.

 

Olivia lifted her arms slowly, and the women stepped back away from her. Then she began the pirouette. She moved as if in a trance. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. But still the skirt rose, its colors blurring as she spun, and she felt dizzy and flushed when she stopped. She gave Rashid a smile that came from some new knowledge.

 

“You are a temptress,” he said in English. His eyes were dark pools that beckoned her to tempt and be tempted.

 

“The ladies are waiting to see what you think of their handiwork.”

 

He stepped toward her and reached his hand up to touch her face at her temple. Then he slid it down until it cupped the nape of her neck. A shiver of response rippled through her, but she didn’t move.

 

“She is very beautiful,” he said in Farsi. “The costume is perfect. She is perfect.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. The speculations and remarks of the nomads hushed. A crow cawed in the distance, and then it was silent too. She was mesmerized. She felt possessed.

 

 

Help Me Name a Character: Win a Prize:

I’ll award a free e-copy of the book based on a drawing to be held this Saturday (May 20th) at noon PST. To be included in the drawing, help me name the hero for the third book in the Behruz trilogy. The name has to be Middle Eastern, sexy, and pronounceable. (The reader’s pronunciation may not be strictly “correct” but the reader finds it easy to pick a pronunciation and go with it.). Choose among the following options or tell me one of your own:

 

Mansur, Malek, Rahim, Ahmad, Javad, Darius, Hamid, Jafar, Majid, Saman, Kamran, Zakar.

 

There’s no “right” answer. The drawing will be random among those who “like” my Facebook page and leave a comment. https://www.facebook.com/Judy-Meadows-Romance-Writer-1556763401023522/?fref=hovercard

 

 

Buy Links

The Wild Rose Press – http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/4978-escape-from-behruz.html

Amazon – http://a.co/eaA3uUi

 

Judy Meadows headshot

 

Author Biography

I grew up and went to college in Minnesota but now live in a small town in Oregon with my husband, Jim. I love to travel, read, hang out at the beach, cook, and play with grandchildren. I’ve always loved cats, but sadly find myself catless at the moment. Our 20-year-old Simba and 17-year-old Tinker Bell both died last year.

 

 

I worked as a systems analyst for IBM when I finished college. I interrupted my career in that field to take a year-long trip, traveling by Landrover, from Europe to India, Sri Lanka, and Nepal, and I returned to Iran several years later, with my husband, to work as a computer engineer in AT&T’s effort to modernize the Iranian phone service. The fictional country of my novel, Behruz, is based on the cultures of Iran and Afghanistan as I saw them then (before political unrest and war disrupted both countries).

 

 

When we retired from computer work, Jim and I bought a farm in northern California. We grew apples, Asian pears, and raspberries for ten years before retiring again, this time to Oregon.

 

 

When our son was a senior in high school, we adopted a 10-year-old girl from a Russian orphanage. I spent two weeks in Moscow finalizing the adoption and then came home to start the parenting thing all over again. When our Russian daughter was settled into the family, I trained to become a doula and began a 20-year career as a doula and childbirth educator. So far, I’ve helped 460 women in labor. (see www.doulajudy.com and www.mexicanmidwives.com)

 

 

I’ve just finished Midwife in Behruz, a sequel to Escape from Behruz and am beginning to plot the final book in what will be a trilogy of stories set in Behruz.

 

 

Social Media Links

Website: www.judymeadows.com

Email: judymeadowsromance@gmail.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/judymeadows44

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Judy-Meadows-Romance-Writer-1556763401023522/?fref=hovercard

 

The Highlander’s English Woman by USA Today Bestseller @RuthACasie #99cents #HistoricalRomance


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Title: The Highlander’s English Woman

Author: Ruth A. Casie

Genre: Historical Romance

Publisher: Timeless Scribes Publishing

 

Book Blurb:

Laura Reynolds and long-time friend of Jamie Maxwell Collins are in love. She adores his playful sense of humor, caring nature as well as his strong sense of honor. They have known each other from the time Jamie trained with her older brother at their home on the English side of Scottish border. Jamie has become an excellent soldier except he won’t fight and while she knows him well, she has no idea why.

 

Jamie Maxwell Collins lives on the Scottish side of the border. Carefree and open, he hides a dark secret so powerful it could destroy his family and those he cares for. He can’t involve Laura in this deception. He mustn’t give her hope for a future together. Instead, he ends their relationship.

 

While visiting Jamie’s uncle, Laura stumbles upon Jamie’s secret, but has nowhere to turn. The only person with the answer, her brother is gone, killed on a Welsh battlefield. In her heart of hearts she knows Jamie is innocent. Their relationship in tatters and with no hope of reconciliation, she plays a deadly game to find a way to exonerate Jamie even though it means agreeing to a political marriage. She has no idea the entire game has been orchestrated by her future husband, Jamie’s greatest enemy.

 

Laura Reynolds is in love with her long-time friend, Jamie Maxwell Collins. She adores his playful sense of humor, caring nature as well as his strong sense of family and honor.

 

Jamie lives across the border in Scotland. Outwardly carefree, he hides a dark secret. He can’t involve Laura in this deception. He can’t give her hope for a future together.

 

Laura stumbles upon Jamie’s secret. In her heart of hearts she knows Jamie is innocent. Their relationship in tatters and with no hope of reconciliation, she plays a deadly game to exonerate Jamie, she agrees to a political marriage. She has no idea the entire game has been orchestrated by her future husband, Jamie’s greatest enemy.

 

 

Excerpt:

“Hold me. Don’t let me go,” Laura said. She nuzzled his neck and sank into his strong embrace. “Love me,” she whispered in his ear. His muscles tensed in response. She wanted his arms around her, his lips touching hers.

 

They sank on the bed and held each other close. She was afraid to let him go, afraid the emptiness would find her, afraid of losing him, again. With an unending thirst, she focused on his mouth, the shape of his lips, the kisses that they promised.

 

His hand stroked the side of her body from her breast to her thigh, claiming them. One stroke of her breast and she tugged on his shirt. He didn’t hesitate. He obliged her and pulled it off. Her hand played down the hard planes of his chest. Her eyes widened at the sight of the scars on his chest.

 

“These weren’t here.” She traced them with her finger.

 

He stopped her hand and brought it to his lips. “Fighting for The Maxwell comes with a price. I don’t want to think of the Maxwell.” He kissed her fingertips. “I thought I lost you forever.”

 

She closed her eyes and reveled in the tingling sensation racing through her body and put her head on his shoulder.

 

He opened her bodice and stroked the top of her chest then, with trembling hands, touched her breasts. A low moan escaped her lips.

 

Jamie bent and kissed each breast.

 

He ignited a flame inside her that set her on fire. Delicious shudders pulsed through her. She pulled his head away and kissed him.

 

Her fingers traced the scars and the muscles of his chest danced at the light touch. “Where did you get this one?”

 

“In a fight with the English.” His rapt gaze focused on her face.

 

Her lips brushed against his skin.  His skin deckled in gooseflesh. Her finger moved on. “And this one?”

 

“A reiver attack,” his voice was husky and seductive.

 

The hooded passion in his eyes encouraged her. She kissed the scar and moved on. The tips of her fingers traced down his chest. “Here is another.” The scar snaked below his navel. Another kiss. Her fingers trailed down further.

 

He pulled her up and rolled on top of her. Her body instinctively arched against his. “You are mine.” His warm breath brushed against her face. Two heartbeats passed. “Do you hear me? You’re mine,” he said more urgently.

 

“Yes.” Her voice an intimate whisper. His lips tugged into a sideways grin.

 

His smile that made her bones go limp. It was his magic.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon/Kindle (99 cents): https://amzn.com/B01LXYHNGS

Amazon Print: http://a.co/am0MfIq

iBook: https://geo.itunes.apple.com/us/book/highlanders-english-woman/id1158295266?mt=11    (http://apple.co/2eddatE )

BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-highlanders-english-woman-ruth-a-casie/1125365584?ean=2940157490539

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-highlander-s-english-woman

 

Ruth A Casie close

 

Author Biography:

RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author of action-adventure romance about strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. Her Druid Knight novels have both finaled in the NJRW Golden Leaf contest. The Guardian’s Witch, part of the Stelton Legacy series was a Reader’s Crown Finalist. Ruth also writes contemporary romance in the Havenport series with enough action to keep you turning pages. Ruth lives in New Jersey with her husband, three empty bedrooms and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she started writing time travel romance, she was a speech therapist, international bank product and marketing manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing time travel romance. For more information, please visit www.RuthACasie.com or visit her on Facebook, @RuthACasie, Twitter, @RuthACasie, or Pinterest RuthACasie.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http:// www.ruthacasie.com

Email:  mailto:ruth@ruthacasie.com

Personal Blog:  http://www.ruthacasie.blogspot.com

Google+ https://plus.google.com/+RuthSeitelman

Twitter:  http://www.twitter.com/RuthACasie

Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/RuthACasie

LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/ruth-seitelman/6/6b7/964

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/ruthacasie/

GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4792909.Ruth_A_Casie

YouTube:  http://bit.ly/RuthACasieYouTube

Ruth’s Newsletter Signup: http://www.ruthacasie.com/contact.html#newsletter

Meet Elias (sexy #vampire) from @KryssieFortune’s New #Paranormal #EroticRomance! #romance


KF_Claimed by the Vampire

 

Have you ever wondered what a vampire thinks and feels? Today’s it’s my great pleasure to introduce you to Elias from the newly released erotic romance, Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf. He’s, well, I’ll let him introduce himself. Take it away, Elias:

 

I’m a soldier of Sparta. Once I thought that was everything. It didn’t matter that my father was the Macedonian king, although I hated him for throwing me, Elias—heir to the Macedonian throne—away like I was nothing.

 

“A hostage to the fragile peace,” he called it

 

I grew up in the Spartan agoge, aka the cruelest boy training academy ever. I leaned about hunger and hurting, but that made me no different to any other Spartan warrior in training. After all that, King Leonidas refused to let me fight at Thermopylae. My new wife, a woman I loathed on sight, said it shamed her and slit my throat while I slept.

 

That’s when the real torture started. Powerful forces pulled my soul into the Etruscan Hell Zone, and for seven centuries, the Tuchulcha demons taught me what pain really was. Spartan’s don’t scream. Ever. In life, I was stoic, stronger than any of my contemporaries. In death, I learned to scream. The only way to survive was to turn vampire. Then Tempest, my curvy red-haired angel, pulled me back into the real world.

 

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

A full belly, a blanket for warmth, and Tempest in my bed.

 

What is your greatest extravagance?

I don’t need much. Growing up as a Spartan warrior told me that. I love my 1,000cc motorbike and my sports car. As a Spartan, we marched everywhere. Twenty-first century transport is amazing, but I’d give up everything to keep Tempest safe.

 

What is your current state of mind?

Edgy. Angry. Deadly, maybe. I need to claim Tempest and bind her to me forever, but she’s not ready. For a vampire, finding his bride is everything, but for all she’s a witch—albeit a weak one—and she doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Worse, one of my younger brothers has somehow turned werewolf. He scented Tempest and claimed she was his mate. I’d drain every drop of blood from his body, but he came to our aid when we fought Tuchulcha demons in your world. Tempest thinks we owe him. Seth, my half-brother, grew up with everything, fine food, good clothes, and a family who loved him. I had nothing and no one. Now I have Tempest, he wants to take her from me too. Just once, I want something good to happen for me. Honestly, Tempest is my addiction, my heart and my world. I can’t live without her.

 

What is your most treasured possession?

My bride. The one woman who completes my soul and makes my heart beat. That’s Tempest, of course.

 

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

I spent seven centuries in the Etruscan hell, and you at ask me that? I endured cold so intense it froze the flesh from my bones. Even with my vampire healing I have scars around my wrists where the demons wrapped leather thongs around them and suspended me from the ceiling. They enjoyed poking my wounds with hot pokers and they whipped the flesh from my bones. The only thing worse than them recapturing me would be if I lost Tempest. I’d endure anything to protect her.

 

What is your favorite occupation?

Kissing Tempest. Stroking her body until she whimpers with desire. Did I say she has the world’s most spankable ass? Afterward, she comes apart as I love her long and hard. I never imagined a woman like her, let alone that I’d find my eternal bride, but making Tempest smile motivates my every action and thought.

 

What is your most marked characteristic?

I grew up wearing rags. The Spartans kept the boys in the agoge hungry and cold. By law, the elders gave us one cloak a year and nothing else. We stole clothes from washing lines and ate rotten food from the midden, or slipped into homes and pilfered some warrior’s meal. The penalties if we were caught were sometimes fatal. After that, all adult Spartans like to look good. Remember the stories about the warriors at Thermopylae washing and combing each other’s hair before battle. Despite expecting to die the next day, they wanted to look their best as they met their fate.

 

I’m the same. I keep my hair short and well-tended. Twenty-first century clothes are wonderful. I’m the guy in a suit when others wearing ripped jeans and muscles shirts. Of course, Tempest prefers me bare chested so she can run her fingers over my eight pack or lick my chest. I’m good with that too, but looking smart matters to me.

 

Who are your favorite writers?

I’ve so much catching up to do. Having spent seven centuries locked in the Etruscan Hell, I know little about twenty-first century life. I read nonfiction. Mostly history books, and thankfully, I’m a quick learner.

 

Who are your heroes in real life?

This is hard. I was born before most of them. The Macedonian line gave the world Alexander the Great. He’s the descendant of one of my half-brothers. I’ve not met most of them, and I have eight. I forget which one took the throne after my death. Like me all my family, myself included, Alexander had mismatched eyes.

 

Alexander’s battle tactics are still studied by the military today. He never did the things his enemies expected. Instead, he homed in on their weaknesses and decimated them.  He even solved the riddle of the Gordian knot. With his warrior’s body and striking looks women were all over him. Despite that, his greatest weapon was his mind.

 

What are your favorite names?

Tempest, of course.

 

What is it that you most dislike?

Werewolves who come after my woman.

 

How would you like to die?

I’ve done that already. I’d like to avoid doing it again. Being a vampire makes me immortal, but without Tempest I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t drink. My body will fail and I will die of a broken heart. And do you know what? I wouldn’t care. Life without my bride is unthinkable.

 

Title: Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf

Author:  Kryssie Fortune

Genre: Paranormal, erotic romance / Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Loose id

Book Cover: Designed by Dar Albert

 

Book Blurb:  

After seven centuries, Elias, a former Spartan turned vampire, finds his eternal bride.
Seth, Elias’s werewolf half-brother, scents his mate.

 
Vampire and werewolf loathe each other. The only thing they agree on is that Tempest is their mate–and they’re not sharing.

 
A prophecy will force Tempest, a twenty-first-century witch, to choose between them. As the half-brothers vie to win her heart, they teach her about spanking, the way pain heightens pleasure, and the joy of multiple orgasms.

 
A vampire can’t survive without his fated bride. A werewolf dies if he loses his mate. Their future rests in Tempest’s hands. Which one will she choose?
 

 

Excerpt:

Even when Tempest threw all the fabled eye-of-newt stuff into a caldron, it only burned and stuck to the sides. She’d no stored magic or super-strength spells to aid Elias. Trembling, she took two steps back. When she finally found her voice, she screamed and looked around for a weapon. Her grandmother—the Superwitch—would have zapped those demon things with a spell to turn them inside out by now.

 

Tempest grabbed a fallen branch and yelled like a banshee, ready to charge the demons. Their high-pitched jabber grew louder. More dark shapes dropped to the ground behind Elias. No matter how many demons Elias ripped apart, their numbers kept growing. The way they waved their legs and homed in on their prey horrified her. She froze when four scuttled into the trees and swung around Elias, heading toward her. The way they waved their too-thin limbs as they moved over the ground or dangled from webs they’d spun around the overhanging leafy branches sparked a primeval terror in Tempest’s soul. She wished she’d run rather than summoned her useless magic. Although she swung her stick like a madwoman, fear pulsed in her soul. The closer the demons came, the harder she found it to breathe.

 

A beast charged from the shadows, all fur, fangs, and fury. Over eight-feet tall, it towered over the spider demons. The overhanging tree branches brushed the golden hairs on its ears. Its growl sounded like thunder, and when it extended its claws, the beast looked like it belonged in a slasher movie. Bizarrely, it carried a sword.

 

The beast’s shaggy blond fur and contorted features chilled Tempest’s blood. He looked like a giant wolf, albeit one with supersized fangs and claws. Goddess, is that a werewolf? Whatever its origins, the beast roared a challenge at the demons. The sound echoed down the deserted footpath and set the demons chittering again. When the beast moved toward her, she took a faltering step back, but she lifted her makeshift weapon. She wasn’t going down without a fight, but if it came after her, she wouldn’t last a minute.

 

It leaped between her and Tuchulcha demons, its huge head swinging left and right as if deciding whether to snatch her in its claws or fight off her attackers. Finally, sword in hand, it turned toward the Tuchulcha. Another growl—deep and rough—rumbled from its throat. “Nothing touches what’s mine.”

 

The beast’s rough, raspy voice made Tempest think of unrefined whisky and sex. Her toes curled in delight. Better still, the beast sounded as though he was on her side. She pointed toward Elias and begged, “Help him. Please.”

 

The beast’s roar drowned out the sounds of Elias’s battle. It stared at Tempest for a full five seconds. Finally, he bowed his head toward her and tossed the sword to Elias. “Spartan, catch.”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US http://amzn.to/2pLmmK4

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0727XFPH8

 

Amazon UK http://amzn.to/2pd1Hvt

 

Kobo http://bit.ly/2qBMdl5

 

Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/2q36rI5

 

Publisher http://www.loose-id.com/claimed-by-the-vampire-seduced-by-the-werewolf.html

 

Kryssie Fortune

 

Author Biography:

Kryssie Fortune writes the sort of hot sexy books she loves to read. If she can sneak a dragon into her paranormal books she will. Her paranormal heroes are muscular werewolves, arrogant Fae or BDSM loving dragons.
Kryssie likes her contemporary heroes ex-military and dominant. Her heroines are kick ass females who can hold their own against whatever life – or Kryssie – throws at them.

Kryssie’s pet hates are unhappy endings, and a series that end on a cliff hanger.
Her books are all stand-alone even when part of series. Plot always comes before sex, but when her heroines and heroes get together, the sex is explosive and explicit. One review called it downright sensual.

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook

Twitter

Website

Before You See the Movie #KingArthur, Read @MaryAnneYarde Riveting Series #HistoricalFantasy


The Du Lac Chronicles 10 Feb 2016 KINDLE

 

Title: The Du Lac Chronicles (Book #1 in The Du Lac Chronicles)

Author: Mary Anne Yarde

Genre: Young Adult, Medieval Romance, Historical Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

Winner — N.N.Light Award for Best Romance 2016.

 

Bronze Medal Winner — Circle Of Books Ring of Honor Award 2016

 

Finalist — The Golden Box Book Publishing Golden Book Award 2017

 

A generation after Arthur Pendragon ruled, Briton lies fragmented into warring kingdoms and principalities.

 

Eighteen-year-old Alden du Lac ruled the tiny kingdom of Cerniw. Now he half-hangs from a wooden pole, his back lashed into a mass of bloody welts exposed to the cold of a cruel winter night. He’s to be executed come daybreak—should he survive that long.

 

When Alden notices the shadowy figure approaching, he assumes death has come to end his pain. Instead, the daughter of his enemy, Cerdic of Wessex, frees and hides him, her motives unclear.

 

Annis has loved Alden since his ill-fated marriage to her Saxon cousin—a marriage that ended in blood and guilt—and she would give anything to protect him. Annis’s rescue of Alden traps them between a brutal Saxon king and Alden’s remaining allies. Meanwhile, unknown forces are carefully manipulating the ruins of Arthur’s legacy.

 

The Du Lac Chronicles has a recommend reading age of 16+

 

Excerpt:

It was a poor meal, Alden thought as he broke off the meat and handed some to Annis. They would need something more filling than a small bird if they were to survive. He wondered if they dared try and find a village to stock up on supplies, not that they had any coins to buy anything with. It was a bad idea, really, for nobody liked beggars, and they would probably be hounded out of the village by pitchforks. Still, he had to think of something. He frowned as he chewed. Kent was an option. It was close and he was on good terms with the king. They would be safe in Kent and it wasn’t that far away. Yes, Kent. He had wanted to reach Cerniw, but Kent was a better option, especially if Cerdic’s men were raping the place, as Bors had suggested.

 

“We are heading for Kent,” Alden announced, his mind made up. It was a logical plan.

 

Annis lowered the meat she was about to put in her mouth and looked at him.

 

Alden popped some more meat into his mouth and chewed slowly.

 

“Kent?” Annis asked. To her, Kent was as far away as the moon. She had never stepped foot out of the lands that surrounded her father’s castle.

 

“I need to know what is going on. King Oeric has always been an ally and he has a good fleet of boats.”

 

“But you could be caught. My father will have placed men at the border. Surely he will guess you will head that way,” Annis argued.

 

“I was caught last time because I surrendered. I can promise you, I will not be caught again. And as for your father, he knows as well as I that there are several places I could go. I do not doubt that Kent has crossed his mind. But this time, I am looking for him, so the way I see it, I have the advantage.” He frowned. “Eat,” he ordered, popping some more of the meat into his mouth. “I will not have it said that I starved you.”

 

She brought the meat halfway to her mouth again and stopped. “How long will it take to get to Kent?”

 

“A day, maybe less, depending on the weather.”

 

“And if the weather isn’t kind?”

 

Alden laughed. “Forever the pessimist,” he mocked gently. “If the weather isn’t kind then I am guessing it will take longer.”

 

Annis blushed. “I know that,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry for being…” Her words faded into nothing as she sat and stared at the flames.

 

“For being what?” Alden queried.

 

“Oh nothing, forget I said anything. It was a stupid question and…”

 

“And?” he encouraged, noting her change of tone and the way she would not look at him.

 

“And I know I am not very good company and I slow you down, and if it wasn’t for me you would probably be in Kent by now.” He tried to interrupt, but she would not let him for she had too much to say. “I cannot cook to save my life. I have no idea how to look after myself. If anything happened to you, I would die within days. My father is a monster. My body feels like it has been trampled on by a herd of raging horses. I am dirty. I smell. And I hate my knees,” she huffed.

 

“Your knees?” Alden asked, bemused, for he had not expected such a torrent of words from her and being a mere man, he did not really understand her point.

 

“Never mind my knees. You are right. I am a pessimist. I learned very early on not to look forward to things, because then, I would not be disappointed if they did not happen. And I have had a great many disappointments. I hate my hair. I hate curls. I hate the fact that I am a Saxon. Sometimes I hate myself. And now I am rambling, and no doubt making a fool of myself. I am completely useless, am I not?”

 

“You lost me with the knee thing. Can you repeat the rest again?”

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/Du-Lac-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B01CDK2MK0

 

Amazon CA http://www.amazon.ca/Du-Lac-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B01CDK2MK0

 

Amazon UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/Du-Lac-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B01CDK2MK0

 

Mary Anne Yarde Head Shot

 

Author Biography:
Mary Anne Yarde is an award-winning author of the International Bestselling series — The Du Lac Chronicles.

Yarde grew up in the southwest of England, surrounded and influenced by centuries of history and mythology. Glastonbury–the fabled Isle of Avalon–was a mere fifteen-minute drive from her home, and tales of King Arthur and his knights were part of her childhood.

 

Social Media Links:

Website/Blog

http://maryanneyarde.blogspot.co.uk/p/about.html

http://marybookreview.blogspot.co.uk/

 

Twitter

https://twitter.com/maryanneyarde

 

Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/maryanneyarde/

 

Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15018472.Mary_Anne_Yarde

 

 The Pitchfork Rebelion

 

Title: The Pitchfork Rebellion: The Du Lac Chronicles – Novella

Author: Mary Anne Yarde

Genre: Young Adult, Arthurian Fiction, Historical Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

From the author who brought us The Du Lac Chronicles…

 

When the devil wanted to destroy the world he would do so with fire. Alden du Lac knew this for a fact, because the devil had come to Cerniw.

 

Alden may have driven the man who tortured him from his lands, but he can do nothing to drive him from his dreams.

 

Alden has become bitter, angry and unrecognizable to those who love him. The only person whom could possible bring him back from the brink is his younger brother Merton. But even Merton is at a loss as to what to do.

 

As Alden seemingly wars with himself, there is a new threat to the kingdom. A threat that nobody foresaw, or could have possibly predicted…

 

The adventure continues in this beautiful novella.

 

The Du Lac Chronicles – The Pitchfork Rebellion from Mary Anne Yarde is a new story based on Arthurian Legend and the great historical/fantasy fiction tradition of Bernard Cornwall, C.M.Grey and Kim Headlee.

 

The Pitchfork Rebellion has a recommend reading age of 16+

 

Excerpt:

“Have you seen how the people react to Annis? How they react to me?” Alden continued, shouting at the top of his voice.

 

The horse snorted in fear and backed up a few steps. “It’s all right,” Merton said gently. The horse’s ears went forward as Merton spoke. Merton knew not whether he was speaking to the horse or his brother. Both were frightened, he realised.

 

“I have witnessed it,” Merton answered, his voice steady. “And I have defended her. You need to give them time to get used to the idea and to realise that she is nothing like her father.”

 

“I don’t want to give them time. I bled for them.” He turned abruptly away and ran his fingers roughly through his dark hair. “I bled for them,” he said again, only this time his words were softer, and the hurt that Alden had tried so hard to conceal rang out in his words. “I would have died for them and how do they repay me? They spit at my wife and they call me a traitor.” Alden shook his head and laughed without any humour. “I am going to abdicate. My mind is made up.”

 

“And who is supposed to take your place on the throne?” Merton questioned, his voice wobbling a little, for he knew if he said the wrong thing there would be no going back from this. This was his last chance, he realised. If he did not bring his brother back now then he would be lost to him forever. “Me?” he asked when Alden simply looked at him. “Can you even begin to imagine the mess I would make of that?”

 

Buy it now:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Pitchfork-Rebellion-Lac-Chronicles-Novella-ebook/dp/B01ENJONZQ

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Pitchfork-Rebellion-Lac-Chronicles-Novella-ebook/dp/B01ENJONZQ

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Pitchfork-Rebellion-Lac-Chronicles-Novella-ebook/dp/B01ENJONZQ

 

 

the-du-lac-devil-10-august-2016-kindle

 

Title: The Du Lac Devil (Book #2 of The Du Lac Chronicles)

Author: Mary Anne Yarde

Genre: Historical Fantasy, Arthurian Fiction

 

Book Blurb:

War is coming to Saxon Briton.

 

As one kingdom after another falls to the savage might of the High King, Cerdic of Wessex, only one family dares to stand up to him — The Du Lacs.

 

Budic and Alden Du Lac are barely speaking to each other, and Merton is a mercenary, fighting for the highest bidder. If Wessex hears of the brothers’ discord, then all is lost.

 

Fate brings Merton du Lac back to the ancestral lands of his forefathers, and he finds his country on the brink of civil war. But there is worse to come, for his father’s old enemy has infiltrated the court of Benwick. Now, more than ever, the Du Lacs must come together to save the kingdom and themselves.

 

Can old rivalries and resentments be overcome in time to stop a war?

 

Excerpt:

Merton slowed his horse down to a steady trot. He could hear the pounding of hooves behind him. She had never been one to give up when she set her mind to something. As a child, he had adored her for that, however, as an adult, it annoyed the hell out of him.

 

He allowed Yrre’s horse to slow down to a walk, and he waited for her to catch up. It was best to let her have her say and then maybe she would leave him alone once and for all.

 

“What do you want from me?” he asked as she rode towards him.

 

“Budic needs your help.”

 

“You married my brother,” he said in disbelief as he halted his horse and dismounted. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

 

“Don’t pretend you care who I marry,” Josephine said as she too, got off her horse.

 

“He will not make you happy. He will make your life a living hell.”

 

“He will make me a queen. I will be someone worthy. Someone important. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be mocked and to be condemned and to be the person that everyone walks away from? I loved you. I loved you with every fibre of my being. I have never loved anyone the way I loved you.”

 

Merton sighed in annoyance and looked away. He didn’t want to hear this. He couldn’t. He wished she would just leave him alone. He didn’t want to fight with her about the past, and he didn’t want to tell her that he did understand. He knew exactly what it was like to watch the world turn its back on you.

 

“Last night Philippe told me that he seeks the throne.”

 

“Philippe is nothing. He is no one,” Merton stated. “I heard you, and he, were lovers.”

 

“I heard you were the devil,” she challenged back.

 

“So it is true, then.” Merton pulled the reins over his horse’s head and began to walk away.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Du-Lac-Devil-Book-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B01N0FW1RU

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Du-Lac-Devil-Book-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B01N0FW1RU

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Du-Lac-Devil-Book-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B01N0FW1RU

 

 

The next installment in The Du Lac Chronicles comes out later this year (2017). I can’t wait!

A Man With a Pure Heart by Linda Tillis @Linda34434 Spotlight #historicalromance #TWRP


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Title: A Man With A Pure Heart

Author: Linda Tillis

Genre: Historical Romance/Inspirational

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

 

Book Blurb:

“Samuel Hinton learned at the tender age of fifteen just how violent some men could be. But now, in 1910, as he investigates the murder of a schoolteacher, even he is shocked by the brutality.

 

Kathleen Campbell travels to rural Florida to seek justice for her sister’s death. What she finds is an instant and unexpected attraction to the handsome Investigator who swears he will find the killer.

 

As another murder fills Samuel with a sense of urgency, he struggles with the depth of his feelings for Kathleen, the conflict of knowing he intends to kill the man he seeks, and how that killing will clash with his own Christian beliefs.”

 

Excerpt:

Hamish lay in the back corner of the windowless building. His head was at an odd angle, and there was a look of surprise on his tired, old face.  Samuel held the lantern high and searched the floor. It was not terribly dusty and there had been at least two people inside since the killer had left.  He was unable to distinguish any shoe or boot marks, or moccasins, for that matter. He squatted by Hamish and set the lantern on the floor. He spotted a sliver of something white under the body. Samuel gently rolled Hamish to his side and extracted a piece of crushed paper from under him. He turned it over and immediately recognized Edith’s flyer.

 

“So, old man,” Samuel whispered, “you tried to warn him.”

 

Samuel gently closed Hamish’s clouded, green eyes. He hesitated, his palm resting on the old man’s forehead.

 

He whispered, “Hamish, Hamish, you should have told me. What can you tell me now?”

 

Samuel was completely motionless, staring into the dark corner. He closed his eyes, and after a time he envisioned Nash, standing in a small clearing, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open in a scream.  There was a small building with one high window.  Nash stepped to the doorway, and Samuel could see the inside of the one room cabin. There was a bed with a broken length of chain attached.

 

Ahh. So, the big man has lost something, or someone.

 

Samuel stood, and looked down at Hamish one last time.

 

“I hope you knew the Lord, old man. I hope he is welcoming you now.”

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon –  http://amzn.to/2qrsVzl

 

The Wild Rose Press –   http://bit.ly/2pQGbk3

 

Barnes & Noble  –         http://bit.ly/2pBBvxB

 

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 Author Biography:

Linda has been fortunate to lead a varied life. She was born in Appalachia, Goody, Kentucky to be exact. You know, coal mining country. Her mother moved her to Cleveland, Ohio when she was a small child. She had the best of both worlds. In the summer, she ran bare-foot through the mountains, drank from a cool, sweet, well…and yes, used an outhouse! But during the school year, she attended concerts and art galleries. She lost her mother to cancer when she was ten years old and moved to Florida to live with her father and his new family. She read voraciously during her high school years. In fact, at lunch on Thursdays, she would make a couple of dollars writing book reports for others.

She worked in the garment industry for eighteen years, then changed careers in 1986. Really changed careers. She went from fashion to forensics, and spent the next twenty years with the local Police Department as, yep, you guessed it, a CSI. After so many years of brutality, death and general mayhem, her wonderful husband helped her realize it was becoming detrimental to her health. So, she retired. She spent a year re-acquainting herself with the “real” world. She took up nature photography and sold a couple of articles with photos to the Florida Wildlife Magazine.

She went back to the workplace as a 911 dispatcher/calltaker, and for another seven years her Southern drawl spread over west Florida’s airwaves. During that time, her husband convinced her she should write a book. So, she did. She is now retired, and can devote her full attention to a writing career. She is a member of the Sunshine State Romance Authors, Inc. which is a local chapter of the national Romance Writers of America, where she achieved PRO status in 2015 by having a publisher request her full manuscript for consideration.

 

Social Media Links:

Website – www.lindatillisauthor.com

 

Twitter –  https://www.twitter.com/Linda34434

 

Facebook  –  https://www.facebook.com/linda.tillis.5

 

 

Writing Medical Mysteries: The Rules by @LinWilder #amwriting #writing #WriterWednesday


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Photo credit: Big Stock Photos

 

 

When we start writing fiction, whether writing medical mysteries, romance, erotica or any of the rapidly increasing list of fictional genres, we expect a set of rules. After all, we’ve been taught to follow the rules ever since we were preschoolers.  That’s a good thing. Because all writers need to adhere to the basics of grammar, coherence, clarity. And for writers of medical mysteries, intrigue, surprise and suspense are paramount.

 

But in the now ten years that I have been writing fiction, the way I conceive of rules has changed. I think there are a set of rules which work for beginning novelists. But not too long afterward those rules must be unlearned. And last, there is a regimen, a critical routine which must be followed, even for the very experienced. Hence, we can approach the of writing medical mysteries in three phases.

 

Rules for the Novice Writer

 

By far, the primary maxim for someone who has decided she wants to write a medical mystery is to be clear about why. “I’ve always been told I write well.” Or, “Writing a novel is on my bucket list.” Or, “I think I’d like to be a writer,” won’t cut it.

 

  • Consider what your real goal is. Money? Fame? Recognition? Become another Gillian Flynn (author of Gone Girl, the book and the movie, Paula Hawkins, author of Girl on the Train, the book and movie) or Andy Weir (self-published author of The Martian, the book and the movie?) Be brutally honest here. And if these are the reasons, think again about why you want to engage in what one publisher has called The 10 Awful Truths About Book Publishing.

 

  • Lest you think that the former is meant to deter you from your dream, quite the contrary. My reasons for suggesting that you journey deep inside before you begin are from personal experience and are said to mitigate disappointment once you are finished. When the book is done and the awards do or do not trickle in, our feelings are generally a mixture of relief, pride in the accomplishment mixed with a bit of sorrow: “What do I do now?” “What’s the next act?” Simply said, the best part of any huge undertaking is the journey: the process, the challenge, learning, the highs and yes, the lows. It’s never the kudos, awards or the recognition, no matter how trivial or huge.

 

  • Make sure you like your story and your characters. You’ll be living with them in your head and on your computer for a long time. Although it is possible to get a book written and published in thirty days or less, I would not recommend following the directions of someone who promises this. The chaos in the formerly bounded book publishing business has attracted all kinds of people, some of whom you would not want to have dinner -or even a drink with. If the claim sounds impossible, it most likely is.

 

  • Write about what you know. I spent more than the first half of my life in academic medicine. I grew up with interns, residents, and all the associated paraphernalia of the teaching hospital. For me, then, writing a medical mystery was a natural. Although expertise in your chosen subject matter is not essential- it is fiction, after all, our readers can tell when we write from our own experience. It makes itself evident and therefore far more believable.

 

  • This is your story. Although your editor may be excellent in the technique of writing, you are the artist. You see the characters, hear their voices and know them…they become part of you. Of course, you would not consider publishing your book without hiring an editor, the boundaries between him and you must be distinct. If not, you risk losing essential components of your story.

 

There are far more tips than there is room here so if you will forgive the self-promotion, here are five more tips that may be useful to those of you considering writing your first novel.

 

Now That You Have Learned Them, Dump All the Rules

 

“John, I know you were a Marine, therefore you love rules. The rule you need to remember here is that there are no rules.”

My husband is a psychologist and told me about this simple piece of advice from the head nurse of an inpatient psychiatric unit where he was working as an intern. That nurse’s statement informed the more than twenty-five years that John worked as a psychologist with combat veterans. With many of his clients, particularly the suicidal ones, breaking the established rules was axiomatic in helping these men get their lives back.

Writing is exactly like that. The most important rule for a writer is to know-and believe- that there are no rules. One of my favorite quotes on this subject is attributed to Somerset Maugham. “There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.”

 

However, there are a few myths or rules about writing which live on despite their falsity. Here are a few of my favorites:

  • Excellent novelists are miserable, unhappy neurotics, on a good day.  One of the numerous reasons that I stuck with writing non-fiction for so much of my life is that I bought into this myth completely. The writers I loved as a young English major were either alcoholics, suicidal or psychotic. Think F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway and Ezra Pound. The cost of writing my novel would be too great. And then the dream slid to the back burner as the responsibilities of life accelerated.

 

My first book was arduous. Mainly because I believed that it would only be good if writing it was, an endurance test. Therefore, I made it so. Like any work worth doing, writing a first novel is worth doing poorly. My first novel was replete with problems which were corrected in the second edition.

 

But the subsequent four books have been a totally different experience. Certainly, hard work but not arduous. At times, fun. True because of the joy of getting—really describing a new character is such a high. Like an extremely challenging character so because he is totally out of your frame of reference. Like an assassin who became my favorite character in my third and fourth books.

 

  • To complete a book, you must schedule times and a place for writing it. And consistently adhere to that schedule. I don’t have a writing schedule. Nor do I have a specific place to write. Certainly, when I am approaching a deadline, like now, my writing schedule might be most of my waking hours or as much of them as I can devote to it. But other things interrupt-husbands, kids, holidays, life. As they should.

 

Perhaps because I’ve worked for myself for over fifteen years, the challenge of working from home is a norm for me. And grabbing a few hours here and there to write doesn’t drive me crazy. Anymore.

 

  • Beware of writer’s block. There is no such thing as writer’s block. Rather I think it’s fear. The assassin I mentioned earlier is a great example. Because I found this brand-new character intimidating, I was afraid of him. And knew I needed to take time, a lot more time than I normally do. And wrote him differently. I kept going back to read and re-read sentences and paragraphs sometimes taking days or a couple of weeks off before returning. Until finally, he had flesh and muscle. I could see him, even understand, how he got there: A killer for hire.

                   

                       Essential Regimen for All Writers, Novice or Experienced

 

  • When Not Writing, Read. Assuming we want each book to be better than the last, then we must read other writers interpretation of characters and story lines. Read better writers than you are. Why? Because that is how we learn- it is how they learned.

 

  • When not writing your novel, write anyway. I do a weekly blog and have for years because I enjoy writing non-fiction. If you don’t want the tedium of writing a blog, then use a journal or diary. Writing is no different from any other discipline. The more we do it, the better we get.

 

  • Exercise. There is no better antidote to a character who has you in a corner than going for a run. Or to the gym. Or a hike in the mountains. We writers are a sedentary lot, the body part we work the hardest is our brain. Once the sweat begins to pour down your face, it is remarkable how easily we can solve a plot problem or dismiss a poor review. Or decide to walk away for a day or a week.

 

  • Eat Reasonably Healthy Meals. Although junk food is tempting and yes, okay at times, if all we are feeding those remarkably efficient brain cells are carbs and sugar, our stories will suffer. None of us can create excellence without respecting and caring for our bodies.

 

  • Get 8 hours Sleep at Minimum. Insomnia is one of the most common health problems in the US. Costing billions annually in illness, accidents and accidents, good writers cannot afford to be sleep deprived.

 

 

apriceforgenius-cover-300ppi

 

Title: A Price for Genius

Author: Lin Wilder

Genre: Medical Thriller

 

Book Blurb:

Dr. Lindsey McCall’s worst fears are realized. Not only have both drugs been stolen but two women have been kidnapped- one maybe dead. Lindsey had known Liisa Reardon’s new drug was alchemy, only this time, the end product actually more precious than gold.

 

The desperate call from Hank Reardon in Switzerland came late at night causing too many questions. And no answers. Could Lindsey and Rich Jansen uncover who was behind the crimes? It was an inside job-could they figure out who had sold out the Reardons? All in time to save Reardon’s daughter and her chief tech Ariana? Were they risking their lives as well?

 

The evil words smolder in her mind, the contents of the letter delivered to Hank Reardon

 

Hello Mr. Reardon,

By the time you get this letter, it will be too late. We’ll already have her.

Here are the steps you must not take:

  • Do not call the cops.
  • Do not contact the FBI
  • Tell no one.
  • We’ll know if you or the FBI. We’ll and we’ll kill her instantly.

You must know Sir, there is a price for genius. We trust you will pay it if you want to see your daughter alive.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Price-Genius-Lin-Wilder-ebook/dp/B01MG5JLBI

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Price-Genius-Lin-Wilder-ebook/dp/B01MG5JLBI

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Price-Genius-Lin-Wilder-ebook/dp/B01MG5JLBI

 

Lin Wilder

 

Author Biography:

Lin Weeks Wilder has published dozens of articles, wrote a textbook, and has written four self-help books. Lin has written three medical thrillers situated in Houston, Texas where Lin worked for over 23 years.

 

The Fragrance Shed by a Violet, the sequel Do You Solemnly Swear? and the third in her series, A Price for Genius. The story of the return to faith, Finding the Narrow Road was an unplanned surprise. In her free time, Lin Wilder enjoys hiking, listening to beautiful music, gardening and last but certainly not least, reading. Lin is married to a former Marine and psychologist with 25 years of experience counseling ex- combat veterans. They reside in Nevada with their two dogs.

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lincwilder?ref=hl

Twitter https://twitter.com/LinWilder

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/linwilder

LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/linwilder

About Me https://about.me/lin.wilder

Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/Dr.-Lin-Wilder/e/B007L380OM

 

What starts as Girl’s Night Out ends in murder: The Baron’s Cufflinks by @pjmaclayne #mystery


The Baron's Cufflinks

 

Title: The Baron’s Cufflinks

Author: P.J. MacLayne

Genre: Women Sleuth, Mystery

 

Blurb:

What starts as Girl’s Night Out ends in murder, and Harmony Duprie is a suspect.

 

She’s innocent, of course, but with no alibi, the sheriff’s department won’t remove her from the list of suspects. It doesn’t help when a waitress from the bar gets beaten up and the only clue is a slip of paper with Harmony’s name on it. Throw in a rookie deputy dead set on building his reputation and Harmony must tread carefully.

 

But caution isn’t Harmony’s middle name and she plunges head first into danger to defend her honor.

 

What she finds is a web of half-truths and suspicions implicating several law enforcement agencies, with Jake, her ex-lover, stuck in the middle of it all.

 

Can Harmony rescue Jake and find the real culprit before she becomes the next victim?

 

Excerpt:

In this scene, Harmony Duprie, my heroine, gets the first inkling that her carefully scripted life is about to go off-track again.

 

“I’m Deputy Theo Nelson. I’d like to ask you a few questions.” The impossibly young man’s starched uniform crinkled as he moved.

 

Instinct had me reaching for my purse then I remembered the lessons Freddie had drilled into me about dealing with officers of the law. “I’m going to get my phone out of my purse to make a call,” I told him. “If that’s okay with you.”

 

“Can it wait? I need to ask you a few questions concerning the incident last night. May I?” With a wave of his hand, he indicated the chair.

 

Instinct and experience told me to tell him no, but I found myself nodding.

 

He adjusted his duty belt, took a seat, and pulled out a small notebook. “For the record, I understand that you and some of your friends were at The Dog House last night?”

 

“Yes,” I said curtly, planning on keeping my answers short and to the point. I wasn’t comfortable with the situation, but couldn’t deny the truth.

 

His monotone delivery of the rest of the night’s event made it seem boring. I answered each statement with either a curt “yes” or “No.” Mostly.

 

“One witness said Mr. Foard hit you.”

 

“The witness is wrong. He pushed the waitress but was so drunk that when he tried to grab me, I avoided him with no problem. The bartender put an end to it and one of his buddies offered to take him home.”

 

He scribbled a few notes then looked up at me. I recognized the technique—he hoped the silence would make me uncomfortable and I would say more. It didn’t work. I waited. He sighed.

 

“How long did you stay after they left?” he asked.

 

“Only long enough to pay the bill.”

 

“Can anyone corroborate your story?”

 

“Besides the staff and other customers? Talk to Detective Thomason. He met us there.”

 

“Fred Thomason?”

 

“Yes, do you know him?”

 

“By reputation. Can Detective Thomason vouch for your whereabouts the rest of the night?”

 

“No. He was on duty. Once we were safe, he took off and the four of us headed home.”

 

The deputy closed his notebook, pulled a card out of his pocket and dropped it on the table. “Thank you, Miss Duprie. If we need anything we’ll be in touch.” He tapped the card. “That’s my number if you remember something else.”
“Deputy,” I said. “What’s this about?”

 

He paused as if considering what he could reveal. “Mr. Foard was shot last night.”

 

“Is he going to be okay?” Even if I didn’t like the man, I wished no ill on him.

 

“He’s dead, Miss Duprie.”

 

Buy Links:

Apple https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1232223538

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072P6CD3D

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-baron-s-cufflinks

Books2read Universal Link https://www.books2read.com/u/b5OVGp

Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-barons-cufflinks-pj-maclayne/1126317718?ean=2940157511692

 

PJ MacLayne_4-17

 

Author Biography:

Born and raised among the rolling hills of western Pennsylvania, P.J. MacLayne still finds inspiration for her books in that landscape. She is a computer geek by day and a writer by night who currently lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. When she’s not in front of a computer screen, she might be found exploring the back roads of the nearby national forests and parks. In addition to the Free Wolves’ stories, she is also the author of the Oak Grove series.

 

P.J. MacLayne can be reached on: 

Facebook https://facebook.com/pjmaclayne

Twitter https://twitter.com/pjmaclayne

Google + https://plus.google.com/u/0/+PJMacLayne/posts

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/P.J.-MacLayne/e/B00HVE8WZI

My Blog: http://pjmaclayne.blogspot.com/

 

Tales of Erana Series by A. L. Butcher @libraryoferana #fantasy #shortstories #SFF


a lady in a medieval gown sitting on a stone and reading a book

 

 

Title: Tales of Erana: Myths and Legends

Author:  A. L. Butcher

Genre: Fantasy, Short Stories

 

Book Blurb:

Five short tales of fantasy and fantasy romance set in the dark world of Erana; the world of the Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles.
The Moon on the Water: The tale of the love between a goddess and a warrior and the terrible curse it brought.

The Tale of Treyna the Beloved: When a mortal woman is pursued by two rival gods even the heavens are wrought by magic.

Storm-Born: A lonely magician finds companionship with a creature of the storm but magic demands a price, what price will it be?

The Blue Phial: A lesson in listening to instruction carefully, lest one makes an embarrassing mistake.

The Legend of Oeliana: A story of a nymph and a toad, jealous magic and debts repaid.

 

Tales of Erana: Myths and Legends Excerpt

The Moon on the Water

© A.L Butcher

 

War did not know this, and battle will be fought when it chooses. Trolls, elves and men are but its creatures. So the war continued, month after bloody month, and neither side prevailed. With battle came those things which walk alongside war – disharmony, chaos and hatred.  It took much persuasion and whispered entreaties in the passion of lovemaking to convince Acionna to fight for the Var. When gods become involved in war the odds are unfair and a price must surely be paid, but from whom is never clear.

 

Acionna held the wild magic, the primal Power, the very essence of sorcery and for the sake of her lover and his tribe she brought it to bear upon those they fought. From her fingers ran the torrents of the mountain, fierce and unyielding as they swept away the enemies. Sal trolls grabbed at rocks or thrust their weapons into the ground to no avail as warriors were swept over crevasses and into the hard rock walls. The ground beneath her enemies rippled and cracked, tumbling warriors and unsettling their battle beasts.

 

The Sal themselves fielded greater numbers; their tribe spanned many settlements and their Shaman had learned the secrets of the dark magic, traded for gold, for prisoners of war and for blood. The warriors of the tribe of Var were pushed back, and the rocks were stained red with blood as the sickness swept their ranks. Blood poured from eyes and mouths, drenching all about them. Twisting tendrils of magic grabbed at throats like unseen hands, choking away life and squeezing out hope. The dead rose on feet of bone, in the days before the trolls burned their dead and limbs hacked from torsos leapt, kicking, scratching, blinding until the trolls of  Varris trembled. Their Shaman Lirana called the magic from the Relic of the Moon as her sight faded from eyes pulled from her face by the hands of the dead and her throat constricted with the dark, curse magic of her foes. The death-words of a Shaman carry much Power and the magic flowed with her blood to turn the attackers before her to stone; statues now diving forward in attack, and one with a stone arm clutched about the neck of a dying troll Shaman.  With their Shaman slain, the Var were demoralised, yet fought for their own survival as the Relic rolled from the hands of their queen.

 

Diving forward Hirik warrior Orlin Sal snatched the Relic of the Moon and raised it high; the victory chant of his tribe echoed among the towering peaks, a thunderous cacophony roaring among the paths and trails. The Relic soon reached their Shaman, who laughed and motioned her troops onwards. It was not enough to possess the Relic of the Moon, she wished to kill or enslave her enemies. More slaves bought her more magic, more wealth and more status. More blood could be traded with the fae. She had heard the words and seen the tendrils of magic from the previous owner and cried her own. Pouring forth like a torrent with the twisted darkness of the magic she held the Power turned her most of her kin and some of her foes to nought but statues. Frozen and fixed in rock and in time. Magic demands a price and on that plain of war, that price was the lives and the futures of those who fought. Magic is fickle. Magic is wild and magic may be a blessing and it may be a curse.

 

Buy Links:

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Kobo http://bit.ly/2i2W0MR

 

 

A L Butcher

 

Author Biography:

British-born Alexandra Butcher (a/k/a  A. L. Butcher) is an avid reader and creator of worlds, a poet, and a dreamer, a lover of science, natural history, history, and monkeys. Her prose has been described as ‘dark and gritty’ and her poetry as evocative.  She writes with a sure and sometimes erotic sensibility of things that might have been, never were, but could be.

 

Alex is the author of the Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles, and lyrical fantasy series, and several short stories in the fantasy and fantasy romance genres. With a background in politics, classical studies, ancient history and myth, her affinities bring an eclectic and unique flavour in her work, mixing reality and dream in alchemical proportions that bring her characters and worlds to life.

 

 

Social Media Links:

Amazon Author page http://amzn.to/2hK33OM

 

Facebook Author Page http://bit.ly/FB2j0bbdZ

 

Twitter http://bit.ly/Twi2hJZ3h9

 

Goodreads http://bit.ly/GR2iqokvK

 

Library of Erana Blog http://bit.ly/Blog2iAWL3o

 

Linked In https://www.linkedin.com/in/alex-butcher-8342ab13b/

 

Tumblr https://libraryoferana.tumblr.com

 

 

TOE Just One Mistake

 

 

Title: Tales of Erana: Just One Mistake

Author: A.L. Butcher

Genre:  Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

Coel, the bard, thinks his life has taken a turn for the worst, but he hasn’t met the Thiefmaster yet. An ill-conceived notion of earning more money to pay off his debt and escape a dark past leaves the minstrel in a situation he can’t escape and with a deadly bargain. Will he survive his mistake? Who is this mysterious patron?

 

Tales of Erana: Just One Mistake Excerpt

© A.L. Butcher

 

Darkness oozed lazily in the remainder of the room, nosing into corners, under furniture and behind Coel, unseen, part of it detached. “That was quite a performance, bard. You have some talent, and not just your music. Although your judgement is flawed, it is never wise to steal from a thief,” the voice was smooth, like liquid velvet and very sure of itself.

 

Coel’s hand moved towards the dagger nestling in his belt; it would not be the first time he had been called on to defend himself, although that was how he had ended up in this mess he thought bitterly. Just one mistake, then another and now, it would seem, another.

 

“I do not know of what you speak! I am not a thief.” His brain caught up and he continued, “How did you get into my room? The door was locked. I’m not a bloody fool.” Coel could hear his own heart pounding. There was something about this man which frightened him. He felt like a mouse beneath the gaze of a cat. Perhaps the hangman’s noose would have been the better option.

 

The slate-grey cloak swirled around boots of ebony leather and the cowled figure chuckled. “That lock was barely a moment’s work. I must have a word with the owner of this place about his security. I have yet to find a door in Erana which will not yield to me. You may as well remove your hand from that blade, or would you bet your life you are swifter than the Thiefmaster? I doubt it, boy, I doubt it. Believe me when I say you would be dead before that knife left its scabbard. It would be a pity to waste such talent, would it not?”

 

Coel removed his hand from the dagger, his sense telling him that continuing to draw it would be a terminal decision. Instead, he placed he placed his hand on the table and the voice breathed into his ear, Coel shivered, he had not heard the man move.

 

“I thought not. Sensible lad, if a lying one. This too can be a skill which can save your life, if it is used correctly and with assurance,” Darius told him.

 

This menacing shape was right behind him and Coel began to turn, opening his mouth to protest, and found a gloved hand on his jaw, firm but not unduly painful. “Curious are we not? This may sometimes serve you well. As for other occasions, it is wise to accept things as they are, this is one such occasion… Coel.”

 

The bard caught his breath, how did this man know his name? The sweat began to pool in his back, making his shirt stick unpleasantly to his skin. Had this man been hired to kill him? Had his mistake finally caught him up? Yet as Coel’s brain frantically grasped at any hope and his fingers tried to overrule his brain and reach for the dagger he realised the man had said he was a thief. A robbery, that was not so bad. It would not be the first time.

 

“This is not a merely social call; you are honoured for the Master of Thieves does not always test a potential recruit’s skills for himself.”

 

“I usually charge for my skills, music and other kinds if that is what you prefer. I can be flexible and my tastes are…varied.  Perhaps just this once I might offer them for free. Take the coin and the trinkets, take it all.” Coel’s brain finally caught up with the conversation, “What do you mean potential recruit?”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon.com http://amzn.to/2pQADCj

 

Amazon.co.uk http://amzn.to/2orn0s9

 

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/696686

 

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Kobo http://bit.ly/2oMTwdh

 

knight and his army on battlefield

 

 

Title: Tales of Erana: The Warrior’s Curse

Author:  A.L. Butcher

Genre: Fantasy/Short Story

 

Book Blurb:

He who bargains with monsters beware! A hero forges an unholy bargain with a witch and learns magic never forgets.

In a land of forbidden magic, a mysterious cave holds both riches and danger for three adventurers who discover a mighty treasure and a terrible secret.

 

Tales of Erana: The Warrior’s Curse Excerpt

© A.L. Butcher

On the nights when the moon rose to its fullest, its light a silver sheen upon the roof of the Great Hall, a terrible monster came. His voice was like the rasping of flesh on a blade, his countenance blighted and ugly, twisted like melted flesh with great weeping sores and a putrid smell. Many warriors had tried to vanquish this foul creature, and now their bones lay with the prince’s in the barrow to the east of Eadsham, the settlement that had been forged by blood and toil by the first king, Aedwin. Widows were aplenty and many children made fatherless from this awful beast. Doors were bolted and barred, and not even the lord himself dared to face it. Such was his shame.

 

The king grew ever older, and wishing to marry a man of bravery and honour to his daughter messengers once more rode out north, south, east and west in search of a hero, one with the fortitude to face this cursed beast, as they had done so many times before. On a night when clouds covered the moon’s light and rain fell in drops the size of marbles, the sky was rent with lightning as a great human warrior rode to the gates of the village. “I am Saelth and I have come to slay your monster,” he announced. His words were bold and his demeanour bolder. Behind him rode the fiercest of his band, axe men and archers, trackers and swordsmen. A mean crew indeed and feared about the land; fur-clad and blooded, they were blades for hire.

 

“We have slain creatures from nightmare and beasts that made grown men piss their drawers. Your curse will be lifted if the price is right!” His band nodded, for their rates were high indeed so that only lords and kings could afford their blades.

 

“No weapon forged by man can vanquish it! You’ll simply earn your place in the Hall of the Dead,” someone called.

 

Saelth looked around for the one who had spoken. “Then I shall go to the Halls of the Dead a hero, not one who cowers behind the table, or beneath the bed. I am no coward, nor simpering woman. Nothing is all powerful, or unable to be vanquished, save the gods.”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon.com http://amzn.to/2hHZKm9

 

Amazon.com audio http://amzn.to/2hKOk4v

 

Audible.com http://adbl.co/2buD5qk

 

Amazon UK http://amzn.to/2j0EZXP

 

Amazon UK audio http://amzn.to/2i2Woev

 

Audible UK http://adbl.co/2bGSoi4

 

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I-books http://apple.co/2j0GNQz

 

Kobo http://bit.ly/2ivU4gV

 

Tales of Erana Series

Secrets Best Kept by Tisha @athrhopedestiny #FridayReads #AmazonGiveaway


Secrets Best Kept

 

Title Secrets Best Kept

Author Tisha

Genre Contemporary Christian Non-Fiction

Publisher PenPoint Publications

 

Book Blurb

From prison to pristine, from jail to justice, from hell to heaven describes all the things the woman of God in this story went thru and got thru.

 

The bible says in 1 Corinthians 10:13 that “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”

 

God never puts more on us than we can bear.

 

God always step in on time.

 

He doesn’t come when you want Him but He right there in the nick of time.

This story is a riveting tale of triumph over trial and tribulations when you have God on your side and it confirms the fact that there is nothing too hard for God and He is bigger than any trial. He is bigger than any test.

 

Take a journey with this woman of God as she overcome her circumstances thru God who strengthens.

 

Excerpt

I was born July 17, 1957.  My mother already had four kids by the time I was born.  I can’t remember much when I was born; only from when I was 6 years old.  By then there were seven of us. I can remember that we were not wealthy but we were not poor.  My mother always had a meal on the table and we always had clean clothes.  It was three boys and four girls. We were the average family. My father, as I knew then he worked at soda factory.  I remember we always had toys on Christmas and new clothes and shoes for Easter. We were not a church going family but we were close. My younger sisters and brothers and I always found something to do in the summertime when my mother would leave for work.  We would leave the house to and go around the neighborhood and pick our cousins. We would go and pick blueberries, pears, cherries and plums.

We had to get home before mom because she told us not to leave the house but the blue berries on our hand told on us because it had to wear off. We would get a whipping but the next day we would do it all over again. When the summer was over then there was school to be starting I did not like school.

 

Amazon Giveaway:

Click here to win a free copy –

 

https://giveaway.amazon.com/p/9445e3e3ecd063c5

 

Buy Links

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Secrets-Best-Kept-actual-events-ebook/dp/B071VFKYBP

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Secrets-Best-Kept-actual-events-ebook/dp/B071VFKYBP

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Secrets-Best-Kept-actual-events-ebook/dp/B071VFKYBP

 

Hope Destiny

 

Author Biography

Born and raised in Orlando, Florida where I currently reside with my husband and adult kids,  I, Tisha aka Hope Destiny, am an author turned publisher with over 12 published books including a children’s book, Christian fiction novels, collaborations, short stories and more. I wear many hats and trust in God in everything I do.

 

Social Media Links

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorHopeDestiny

Twitter https://twitter.com/athrhopedestiny

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/penpointpub/

Where to Start If You Are Thinking About Writing by @DianeMoatAuthor #amwriting #FridayReads #kidlit


Writing post graphic Diane Moat

 

Throughout your life you’ve thought about writing, but it seemed too overwhelming. I’m here to tell you it’s not. That old cliché about everyone having a story to tell? It’s true. Your story may be true, or it may be one you’ve only seen in your mind, but it’s there.

 

When I turned 50, all of my friends were doing spectacular things to celebrate their big birthdays. One friend even trekked the Himalayas. Another parachuted for the first time. So along with the stress of my milestone birthday, there was this invisible bar set for me. I had to come up with something amazing.

 

I hadn’t written anything since my High School essays. Most of my adult life, I had been involved in dog rescue. There were countless times when I’d heard of an animal abuser who’d done something terrible to an animal. I (or another rescuer) would say, “If only I could get my hands on that person, he/she would never do that again.”

 

Over time, I had halfway created a story in my mind, where I was able to stop an animal abuser. Could I write that story? Could I? I began researching how to write, then how to publish a novel, and here’s what I found.

 

Anyone can write, and publish, a book. Really. Whether you put together your family recipes, write about your struggle with weight loss, or create an entirely new world. There are resources out there which can help you every step of the way.

 

The only thing you really need is desire. If you just know you could write something great, you are already there. The internet is a wonderful thing. You can find technical information on writing, support groups for writers, and every type of advice imaginable. Websites like POTL are invaluable.

 

But I would caution you, don’t research yourself to death. The most important thing to do it WRITE. Notepad, iPad, laptop, desktop, chalkboard, stickie notes. It doesn’t matter. Just write. I had only written a few paragraphs to Dog Gone when I fell in love with writing. Do your research when you have a question or hit a bump. Don’t let anyone actually tell you how to do the writing itself.

 

So whether you are 15 or 50, you have a story to tell. Take that leap; I promise you will be glad you did.

 

the-supernatural-pet-sitter

 

Title: The Supernatural Pet Sitter: The Magic Thief

Author: Diane Moat

Genre: Middle Grade, Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

Every animal can talk to you. You just have to know how to listen.

Pepper Neely is better at this than most, especially because she is in charge of pet sitting all the familiars in her neighborhood. A familiar is a pet magically linked to a witch or warlock. As a gnome, Pepper is no stranger to spells and sorcery. She also knows that, despite their special name, familiars aren’t all that different from regular animals. They get anxious when separated from their people, so Pepper uses her special gnome powers to calm them down. She watches Cranky the high-strung ferret, Frank the laid-back parrot, King Arthur the elderly tortoise, and many others.

Then, something terrible begins happening to the familiars. Someone is stealing their magic! It not only prevents Pepper from communicating with them but breaks their magical connection with their people. When King Arthur’s magic is stolen, his owner’s powers stop working too. Pepper can sense that the tortoise is very scared.

In order to protect the animal’s magic, Pepper decides to track down the culprit. With the help of her best friend, Luna, and her brother, Jax, Pepper fights to protect all of the special pets.

 

Excerpt:

Luna focused on the candle to her far left. Ten minutes later, the candle was still going strong. Pepper bit her lip, feeling sorry for Luna. She turned to stare at the uncooperative candle, and imagined a little wind blowing the candle out. Puff.

 

Suddenly, the uncooperative candle blinked out as if someone had snuffed it with their fingers.

 

Amazon 5 Star Review:

“Pepper Neely is a very special pet sitter because not only is she a little different in and of her own self—she’s a gnome—but the animals she’s responsible for are rather unusual, too. Most are witch’s familiars, and they’re magic. Now someone is trying to mess with them, and thirteen-year-old Pepper is on the case. This is a fun book with no rough edges for parents to worry about. The action is sweet but with many exciting twists and turns that show Pepper’s sterling qualities—and the gnome family is decent and tightly knit. Definitely something young people will enjoy and with nothing for a parent to worry about. Good story and I’m looking forward to the sequel.” – G. Miki Hayden

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Supernatural-Pet-Sitter-Magic-Thief-ebook/dp/B06XFQRV74

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Supernatural-Pet-Sitter-Magic-Thief-ebook/dp/B06XFQRV74

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Supernatural-Pet-Sitter-Magic-Thief-ebook/dp/B06XFQRV74

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34320532-the-supernatural-pet-sitter

 

diane-moat

 

Author Biography:

Diane is a Tennessee transplant, animal rescuer, and nurse. Dog Gone is her debut novel, born from years of hearing animal rescuers say about animal abusers, “If only I could get my hands on that person…” Diane is assisted by her many rescue dogs.

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/DianeMoatAuthor/

Website http://www.dianemoatauthor.com/

Twitter @DianeMoatAuthor

 

 

The Rancher’s Baby Proposal by @BarbaraWDaille + @HarlequinBooks #romance #western


The Rancher's Baby Proposal original

 

The Rancher’s Baby Proposal by Barbara White Daille

 

From the back cover

 

HER SECRET COWBOY CRUSH

 

Ally Martinez has always been known as a fun and flirty kind of gal. But deep down she’s never forgotten the cowboy who left town. When her crush Reagan Chase comes home after a five-year absence, Ally knows this is her big chance. The guy I’ve always wanted. Only Reagan has something different in mind…

 

Still reeling from his last relationship, Reagan needs a babysitter for his month-old son. With Ally’s help, he can get his family’s ranch ready for sale and get out of Cowboy Creek. The problem? Ally is one seriously cute distraction. But Reagan will do whatever it takes to keep his heart safe. Even if it means losing the only place—and the only woman—he can call home.

 

Excerpt from the book

 

He dipped his head and brushed his mouth against hers. Just that light touch left her lips tingling. Without a second’s pause, she reached up—way up—to rest her hands on his shoulders. She had to touch him, to hold him, to know he was real.

 

And he was.

 

This was Reagan Chase.

 

After all her years of longing for him, Reagan was finally within her reach. Even better, he was kissing her. That kiss gave her the one thing she had always lacked, the one thing she had always needed to spice up her life—the hot, peppery, flavorful taste of Reagan’s mouth on hers.

 

He slipped one arm around her, holding her close, making her aware of every place their bodies touched. She was just as aware when he lifted his head and let go of her to step away.

 

She looked at him, not realizing she had forgotten to breathe until she was forced to gulp a mouthful of air. His gaze dropped to her blouse for a moment before returning to her face.

 

His face looked shell-shocked.

 

As if already reading the first warnings, her heart dropped into a sad, thumping beat.

 

“I was out of line,” he said. “That was uncalled for.”

 

Her defenses rose into place. She was Ally Martinez. The Girl Most Likely… She tilted her head and batted her lashes at him. “Well, I’d have called for something like that a long time ago if I had known it was on offer.”

 

“It wasn’t. It shouldn’t have been.”

 

“Why not? What’s wrong with it? We’re both consenting adults.”

 

He backed another step and shoved his hands into his back pockets. More than likely, he had no idea the move accentuated the hard curves and planes of his chest.

 

“Reagan,” she said, fighting to keep her tone light, “it was only a kiss. I’ll bet you give them out by the dozen and throw in a few extra, the way Sugar does with her sweet rolls.” She wanted to step forward again, as if they were dancing a cha-cha and it was her turn to chase him.

 

She would follow him anywhere.

 

But his expression told her he would refuse to lead.

 

Buy Links

Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/Ranchers-Baby-Proposal-Hitching-Hotel-ebook/dp/B01LLPCDXY/

Barnes & Noble
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ranchers-baby-proposal-barbara-white-daille/1124564570

Books-A-Million
http://www.booksamillion.com/p/Ranchers-Baby-Proposal/Barbara-White-Daille/Q92625305?id=6809026813830

Harlequin
http://www.harlequin.com/storeitem.html?iid=70354

IndieBound
http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780373757596

Kobo
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-rancher-s-baby-proposal

 

Barbara White Daille

 

About the Author

Barbara White Daille lives with her husband in the sunny Southwest. Though they love the warm winters and the lizards in their front yard, they haven’t gotten used to the scorpions in the bathroom. Barbara also loves writing, reading, and chocolate. Come to think of it, she enjoys writing about those subjects, too!

 

Barbara wrote her first short story at the age of nine, then typed “The End” to her first novel many years later…in the eighth grade. Now she’s writing contemporary romance on a daily basis. Sign up for her newsletter to keep up with the latest in her writing life:  http://barbarawhitedaille.com/newsletter .

 

Social Media Links

Website  http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com

Blog  http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com/blog

Newsletter  http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com/newsletter

Facebook  http://www.facebook.com/barbarawhitedaille

Twitter  https://twitter.com/BarbaraWDaille

Amazon author page  http://www.amazon.com/Barbara-White-Daille/e/B002J6B0QQ

Harlequin author page  http://www.harlequin.com/author.html?authorid=1244

Goodreads author page
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/529361.Barbara_White_Daille

One Year Left by J. C. Robinson is Such a Sweet #Romance! #NewAdult #books


One Year Left

 

Title: One Year Left

 

Author: J.C. Robinson

 

Genre: New Adult Romance

 

Book Blurb:

In the last year of his life, Will moves to Portland in search of happiness, but the disappointment and despair of his past aren’t influenced by distance. Then he meets his new roommate, Kristen. Even with her own emotional scars, she’s everything he’s ever wanted. The trouble is, old habits are hard to break and if they can’t find a way to move forward, they risk losing their best chance at love.

 

 

Excerpt:

Kristen

 

Oh my god, Kristen. Get it together. Yes, this is the best surprise you’ve had in recent memory. And yes, this is the best date you’ve been on and it’s only been 30 minutes. But get it together, stop being weird.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” I looked up at him.

 

“I asked if you’ve been on any good dates recently?” he said.

 

“Oh, no,” I answered. “That’s an easy one. How about you?” Way to go, Kristen. That was nine whole words.

 

Will put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist. After a few seconds, he shook his head. “Nope. Nothing worth remembering. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

 

“I like your smile,” I heard myself say. Better to be weird and forward than shy, I suppose.

 

He bit his lip and my knees melted. If I knew compliments induced his lip bites I’d have started long ago. Just not when I was standing, though.

 

“Thanks,” he said. “I like your…” He looked me in the eyes and I saw him take in the entirety of me visible above the table. “I like your everything, to be honest.”

 

I looked down, I had forgotten what I was wearing. It was just a simple t-shirt and sweats. My face heated up with the realization that I had worn this, especially with him looking so nice.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed – it was my fault,” he said, reading my mind. “I did rush you. But I do like your t-shirts. I haven’t seen you in anything else. Do you own anything else?”

 

“Of course!” I reached across the table and hit his arm.

 

“Ouch.” He rubbed his arm in mock disbelief. “You know I was going to put on some music, but now that my arm is out of action, we might have to do without.” He let his arm dangle at his side.

 

Good guys really did exist and I was sitting across from one. He wore a goofy but charming smile as he let his arm dangle as if my punch had done something. Will deserved an attempt on my part. It was time to push Cooper and the other past misadventures aside and see if Will and I could enjoy ourselves. I probably couldn’t turn my brain off completely, but hell, I’d have to try.

 

“Oh, poor you,” I said. “A big head and an arm made of papier-mâché. You poor soul.”

 

He threw his head back and laughed. “Ouch. You know I didn’t ask to be born with glass bones and paper skin.”

 

“I didn’t know about the glass bones,” I said, reaching across the table to rub his arm. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

 

“Yeah, well…” He squirmed a bit in his seat. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, unfortunately.”

 

“What would you like to share then?” I withdrew my arm, maintaining what I imagined was a wicked grin. I loved knowing I could affect him in the same way he did me.

 

“I’d rather know about your writing. You actually have a dream.”

 

“In that case, I’ll have to share,” I said. “But first, eat your pizza!” I noticed he hadn’t touched his food.

 

He gave me a sheepish shrug. “I can’t eat in front of cute girls.”

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://amazon.com/dp/B06XVFWWG5

Amazon CA https://amazon.ca/dp/B06XVFWWG5

Amazon UK https://amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XVFWWG5

 

JC Robinson

 

Author Biography:

J.C. Robinson is 26 years-old and lives in Clarksville, MD with his puppy, who thinks tennis balls are treats. He graduated from the University of Maryland in 2013 with a Criminal Justice & Criminology degree. As of March 2017, he has left his job as a professional hand holder (IT-ish) to pursue writing full-time.

 

J.C. enjoys listening to Bon Iver, playing with Max (his rogue puppy), and watching How I Met Your Mother. His favorite movie is also Adventureland — the last scene totally makes his heart flutter. He wants you to know that lettuce is a no-go in tacos and hamburgers (but salads are okay).

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/jordantheauthor/

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16363962.Jordan_C_Robinson

 

The Marriage of Gryphons (Penny White 3) by Chrys Cymri #urbanfantasy #dragons #books


Penny White and the Marriage of Gryphons ebook

 

Title: The Marriage of Gryphons (Penny White 3)

 

Author: Chrys Cymri

 

Genre: Urban Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

A blast of wind flicked hair from my face. Long toes wrapped around my waist, claws prickling through fur and clothing as I was snatched from the ground. The dragon lifted me high into the grey skies above Llundain. Of the many words going through my head, Oh, bother, was the only one worthy of a priest. 

 

When I’d discovered the existence of Daear, Earth’s magical parallel world, I thought all of my dreams had come true. Riding the handsome dragon, Raven, arguing with my gryphon Associate, Morey, and raising Clyde, a mischievous snail shark, lessen the monotony of my life as the priest of a small village church. And I’ve also met Peter, a man who agrees with me that Doctor Who and single malt whisky are proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.

But Raven has gone missing, and finding him would mean a hazardous trip to the Arctic. Morey’s attempts to prove himself worthy of marriage to his love, Taryn, are putting all of us in danger, particularly my younger brother, James. Can I keep those I love safe in a world which has little love for humans?

 

Penny White books

 

Worldwide Giveaway:

Chrys Cymri is running a worldwide giveaway of the three Penny White novels (as e-books). Sign up to her email list, making sure you mention this blog (POTL or N. N. Light), and you’ll be entered into the competition. The giveaway ends on 31 May 2017. Got to http://chryscymri.com/newsletter.html  to enter.

 

Excerpt:

I was distracted from Morey’s answer as I noticed something glinting against the blue sky. My sunglasses were steaming slightly, and I rubbed my glove over the lenses. The tumbling object was small, oblong, and grey-brown. And I clearly heard a tenor voice sing out, ‘Geronimo!’

 

My mouth dried. ‘Morey, it’s Clyde!’ Though why he was channelling the Eleventh Doctor was beyond me.

 

But the gryphon was already tearing at my coat. He forced his way out, claws catching against the fur as he launched himself upwards. ‘Nattoralik, nattoralik, nattoralik!’ the lemmings squealed, tumbling over and around each other as they scurried away from me. The word wasn’t in any language I recognised, but the terror was obvious.

 

‘Gryphon,’ I snapped at them, a different fear making my heart pound. ‘And that’s a malwen siarc, if you really want to know.’

 

Malwen siarc,’ the lemmings echoed. ‘Malwen siarc, malwen siarc.

 

Morey had placed himself below Clyde, and his wings pounded as he turned upside down. My hands curled inside my gloves. The gryphon might be several times larger than the snail, but Clyde was heavy for his size. The impact would surely drive both of them to the ground. Would Morey’s brave rescue attempt end up with both of my friends dead?

 

The lemmings swarmed away from me. Both groups pulled together, forming one large mass, piling on top of each other into a furry pile. Clyde smacked into Morey’s chest. The gryphon’s claws scrabbled at the shell, trying to get a grip as he fought to right himself. His wings were beating furiously at the air, but he was losing altitude rapidly. I could feel a scream rising in my throat.

 

Movement from the lemmings dragged my gaze down again. A few of the rodents perched on the backs of the others, issuing squeaks which adjusted the position of the group. I just had enough time to realise what they were doing when Morey and Clyde smacked into their midst.

 

There were squeals and snow flurried up around the mix of white, purple, and grey. I hurried over as fast as snowshoes would allow. A stream of Welsh curses eased some of the tension in my chest, making me realise that Morey, at least, was alive. ‘Clyde?’

 

‘Sure, ask after the kid.’ Lemmings pulled away to reveal Morey, staggering slightly on the dug up snow.

 

‘I could hear that you’re okay.’ The lemmings surrounded the snail, and I feared the worst. ‘Clyde?’

 

Multiple small bodies churned. And Clyde was raised up from their midst. The snail was perched on several backs like a footballer who had kicked in the winning goal. ‘Arweinydd mawr, arweinydd mawr, arweinydd mawr.’ The lemmings spoke in an awed whisper. ‘Arweinydd mawr, arweinydd mawr, arweinydd mawr.

 

‘Great leader’? I watched as Clyde glanced around him. He extended his body to full length, and his jaws cracked open as he smiled at the lemmings. Much to my surprise, this excited rather than terrified them.

 

Universal Links for all three Penny White books:

https://myBook.to/TemptationofDragons

 

https://myBook.to/CultofUnicorns

 

https://myBook.to/MarriageofGryphons

 

chrys C

 

Author Biography:

Priest by day, writer at odd times of the day and night, I live with a small green parrot called Tilly because the upkeep for a dragon is beyond my current budget. Plus I’m responsible for making good any flame damage to church property. I love ‘Doctor Who’, landscape photography, single malt whisky, and my job, in no particular order. When I’m not looking after a small parish church in the Midlands (England) I like to go on far flung adventures to places like Peru, New Zealand, the Arctic, and North Korea.

 

Social Media Links:

https://www.facebook.com/chryscymri?fref=ts

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1076161.Chrys_Cymri

https://uk.pinterest.com/chryscymri/

http://chryscymri.tumblr.com/

https://plus.google.com/u/0/+ChrysCymri

 

My website:  www.chryscymri.com

 

Direct link to sign up to email list: http://chryscymri.com/newsletter.html

 

Her First Knight by @LiviaQuinn (May Sales Donated) Spotlight #military #veterans #romance


Her First Knight web NEW final 03302016 copy

 

Title  Her First Knight

Author  Livia Quinn

Genre  Military Family, Contemporary Romance

Publisher Campbell Hill Publishing

 

Book Blurb

All sales of Her First Knight in May go toward Veterans Charities

 

Ridge Romano is a billionaire inventor, military contractor and the CEO of two multi-billion dollar companies. And he’s on a mission for vets. With a laser focus on his priorities, how did he wind up on a stage between two cover models with a hundred women crying, “Tucker, take it off”?

 

He’d pay for this… somehow.

 

Buffy’s face and body were recognizable worldwide but what she was searching for was the face of her franchise. She’d come to D.C. to find that face, interviewing cover models from around the world, and finally she’d found her man. Tucker – the late arrival – had that ‘je ne sais quoi’ that would make her talent agency and photography studio an immediate success. She had to have him.

 

There was just one problem. He wasn’t a cover model and said he had more important priorities – veterans. Who was she to argue with such a noble cause? The trouble was the Calloways always knew what they wanted, and Buffy wanted Tucker. Could this be the first time a Calloway was wrong?

 

 

Excerpt

He’s the one, isn’t he?” Her eyes lit with a strategic fire. “Isn’t he, Lana Jean Calloway?”

 

Buffy couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t heard her full name in that tone of voice since she was eight. “No one’s keeping anything from you, Mom. I’m sure if you ask Ridge right now if he’s the one, he’d back out of here quicker than you could say gumbo. Please don’t blow it.”

 

“You knew about this, Mother,” Pamela said, calling Lillie by her affectionate nickname, to make her point of why she shouldn’t have been left out. It didn’t sound very affectionate.

 

“Mom, it’s just not quite time to go shopping for a wedding dress, ‘ya know?” She hugged her mother who relaxed, but Buffy could tell she wasn’t about to give up. She gave Lillie a what now? grimace and Lillie just patted them both on the back.

 

“Come on, girls. They could talk until next month about the wars and your Mr. Romano’s project but I think they could use a distraction. Buffy, grab the potatoes, and I’ll call your father to get the ham.”

 

Lunch proceeded without a hitch. Luc said his goodbyes and took off. Ridge made the rounds thanking everyone for their support and promised to come back one day. This concerned Buffy. It sounded too much like the distant future. Shaking Earl’s hand he said, “Sir, my company has a more advanced prosthesis. I can arrange it for you if you’re interested; it’s lighter and more flexible than the version you have.”

 

Earl narrowed his eyes and said, “Son, I’m ninety-three years old. This old arm has become like my real arm over the years, and we do just fine. Getting a new one at this stage of my life would be like a woman gettin’ fake boobs when she’s past her prime.”

 

“Old coot,” Ridge thought he heard Lillie say under her breath.

 

“Watch it, Dad,” said Robert who just put his arm around a steaming Lillie and hugged her. “Ignore him, sugar.”

 

“Now, Earl,” Roberta said, and her look seemed to be the only thing that made him quail.

 

Then Buffy’s great-grandfather shook Ridge’s hand and, looking around him at Buffy, said, “You chose a fine man, youngin’.”

 

Silence.

 

Ridge turned slowly to look at Buffy. She shrugged and shook her head. It wasn’t me.

 

Then she watched with an impending sense of doom as her mother put her hand on Ridge’s shoulder and said, “Might as well buy the ring, dear. When a Calloway tells you, you’re the one, it’s like that old saying, “If I tell you the moon is made of green cheese, get your crackers.” She nodded, yep.

 

“I—” Buffy’s head sank into her hands. Why had she thought this picnic could take place without a bomb going off?

 

 

Buy Links

All May sales go directly to Veterans Charities

 

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00REUM57A

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00REUM57A

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00REUM57A

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/storm-crazy-bonus-edition-storm-crazy-and-cry-me-a-river-books-172

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/her-first-knight-larue/id1162230182?mt=11

Books2read https://www.books2read.com/u/3LLOe3

 

Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Biography

Livia Quinn is a DC native living on the bayou in Louisiana. She has written eleven books based in Louisiana, both paranormal and military romance. Please find a way to support a local veteran.

 

 

Social Media Links

Blog: https://liviaquinnwrites.com/livias-ramblings

 

Website: http://liviaquinn.com

 

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/liviaquinnwrites

 

Twitter    http://twitter.com/liviaquinn

 

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/liviaquinn

 

Goodreads http://bit.ly/22VXuev

 

Livia’s Author Central page http://amzn.to/1T5qmhN

 

Google+ http://bit.ly/2guNZn9

 

LinkedIn http://bit.ly/2dbYAP2

 

Instagram http://instagram.com/liviaquinnauthor

 

Independent Author Network http://bit.ly/2dlAr8L

 

Livia Quinn’s Facebook Reader Group http://bit.ly/2gBFQ12

Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf by @KryssieFortune #Erotic #PNR #NewRelease


KF_Claimed by the Vampire

Title Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf

Author Kryssie Fortune

Genre Erotic Paranormal Romance

Publisher Loose id

Book Blurb

After seven centuries, Elias, a former Spartan turned vampire, finds his eternal bride.

Seth, Elias’s werewolf half-brother, scents his mate.

Vampire and werewolf loathe each other. The only thing they agree on is that Tempest is their mate–and they’re not sharing.

A prophecy will force Tempest, a twenty-first-century witch, to choose between them. As the half-brothers vie to win her heart, they teach her about spanking, the way pain heightens pleasure, and the joy of multiple orgasms.

A vampire can’t survive without his fated bride. A werewolf dies if he loses his mate. Their future rests in Tempest’s hands. Which one will she choose?

Excerpt

In the deserted street outside Tempest’s workplace, a golden werewolf threw back his head and howled. The faint scent of his mate tickled his nostrils, sweet and floral with a hint of spice. Seth breathed deeply, drawing it into his lungs. He couldn’t stay here, since a mythological creature walking York’s streets would cause a panic. People would run from his eight-foot werewolf form. Some might have an adrenaline rush and attack him. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass Hades by injuring humans or ending up in the newspapers.

Seth shifted to human and pulled on the black jeans and leather jacket Hades had left him. As Hades had promised, he found the key to his hotel suite in his pocket. A little luxury wouldn’t go amiss after the endless bland days in the Elysian Fields. Being dead wasn’t all Seth expected it to be. He’d lacked purpose or goals. Having a mission made him feel truly alive, even if it had meant turning werewolf to accept it.

Back in the underworld, his cheeks had ached from the constant smiling, and he’d found the endless joy galling. His riding skills had been the pride of his human existence, but the horses in the Elysian Fields behaved more like oversized puppies than wild stallions. Bored, he’d meandered through the afterlife, grinning like a loon and hating every moment.

Finally, Hades had taken pity on him. Now Seth had a task to fulfill and a mate to claim. It wouldn’t take long to drag the traitor Elias back to his cell in Tartarus. The selfish bastard deserved every torment he suffered after almost plunging the ancient Macedonian kingdom into civil war.

Afterward, Seth would enjoy some serious loving with the woman who smelled of wildflowers and freedom. Before he set out, Hades had given him her name—Tempest—and sworn she wouldn’t be able to resist Seth’s charms. Their connection would seethe with intensity and need. Thinking about it left him aching inside. Once he found her, he’d woo her with expensive gifts and pretty words. Although, maybe he’d spank her pretty ass first.

****

Elias battled the dark hunger inside him. Tempest’s well-being mattered more than his unnatural thirst. While he wanted to claim her, he’d treat her with the respect she deserved.

Boom. An explosion echoed through his skull, so loud it almost deafened him. Boom. It sounded again. Boom. His muscles tensed, and he scanned the room for danger. Boom. Realization dawned. Tempest made him whole and set his heart beating for the first time in centuries. Bride. She’s my bride. The Tuchulcha demons will hurt her to hurt me. 

Werewolves had fated mates, but vampires had brides—the one woman who made their heart beat. Tempest was his, and he’d never willingly leave her side. The depth of his emotions scared him more than the Persian hordes, but humans married, not mated. What if she didn’t feel the same?

His heart pounded in a series of explosions. Heat flowed through him, warming his blood and delighting his soul. His pulse beat like a war drum in his wrist. The longer he stayed with her, the steadier his heart’s rhythm became. Each rise and fall of his chest, each bomb blast of his pulse rocked his world.

Warmth suffused his body. His thoughts seemed sharper, and his pain faded into insignificance beside his need to love and protect his bride. He’d heard legends of how vampires’ brides brought new life to their soul mates, but he’d never expected to find a bride of his own. The idea both terrified and delighted him.

After so many centuries of suffering, he barely remembered how it felt to be human, but his timing sucked. He’d never wanted a woman the way he did Tempest, but figuring out how to claim her… Well, he’d climb that mountain once he’d dealt with the demons he knew would come after him.

Her wildflower essence mingled with the soft swish of her blood, tempting him like nothing ever had before. The sweet sound of it pulsing through her veins had him running his tongue over his dry lips. The need to taste her hardened into an obsession. His mouth watered, and his retractable fangs dropped.

Unaware of her danger, she stormed out the room. “You don’t want a doctor? It’s your funeral, but I’m still going to wash all the blood and grime off your body.”

A funeral? Something else he’d never had. In Sparta, unless you died in battle or childbirth, nobody gave a damn. No funeral. No headstone. Just a lifeless body festering in a dank pit.

His Spartan wife—the woman who’d murdered him while he slept—would have slit his throat for the “or else” he’d thrown at his angel earlier. Then again, Cynisca had done that anyway. Elias hadn’t loved her, but he hadn’t expected her to condemn him for being born Macedonian. Besides, after living in Sparta for twenty-five years, he remembered little about his birth land. Staying behind while his fellow warriors fought at Thermopylae had been humiliating.

Guarding our homes and watching our backs,” King Leonidas had called it.

Elias had known better. Considering the things he’d endured in the afterlife, it seemed unimportant now. He hadn’t expected to survive, let alone thrive under the Spartan regime. He’d been too damn angry to die for his family’s satisfaction. As the eldest son of the Macedonian king, he should have enjoyed a pampered upbringing. Instead, he’d endured the worst things Spartan culture could throw at him. No way would he stand aside and let one of his half-brothers take the Macedonian throne.

The demons had shown him his half-brothers laughing as they basked in their father’s love. They’d had everything while he’d suffered thirteen years of misery and Spartan abuse. Life in the agoge had been harsh and frightening for a seven-year-old, but after the torture he’d endured in the underworld, it seemed like a walk in the park.

Buy Links

Amazon USA             http://amzn.to/2pLmmK4
Amazon CA               https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0727XFPH8
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Publisher http://www.loose-id.com/claimed-by-the-vampire-seduced-by-the-werewolf.html

 

Kryssie Fortune

Author Biography

Kryssie Fortune writes the sort of hot sexy books she loves to read. If she can sneak a dragon into her paranormal books she will. Her paranormal heroes are muscular werewolves, arrogant Fae, or BDSM loving dragons.

Kryssie likes her contemporary heroes ex-military and dominant. Her heroines are kick ass females who can hold their own against whatever life – or Kryssie – throws at them.

Kryssie’s pet hates are unhappy endings, and a series that end on a cliff hanger.
Her books are all standalone even when part of series. Plot always comes before sex, but when her heroines and heroes get together, the sex is explosive and explicit. One review called it downright sensual.

Social Media Links

Website      http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie

Blog            http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/

Twitter         https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune

Facebook    https://www.facebook.com/KryssiesFortune

Pinterest      http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc

Goodreads     http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ

Amazon Author Page  http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO

Meet Paula from The Fragrance Shed by a Violet by @LinWilder #medicalmystery #thriller


Fragrance Shed by a Violet

 

Today, it’s our great pleasure to bring you this exclusive interview from one of the characters from Lin Wilder’s The Fragrance Shed by a Violet. Paula Livingston, sister to Dr. Lindsey McCall, agreed to an interview conducted by MRS N and we think you’ll be surprised by her candor. Welcome, Paula. Please introduce yourself.

 

Hello, my name is Paula Livingston, the older sister of Dr. Lindsey McCall, world-famous Interventional Cardiologist and Researcher. I am a cardiac nurse, single mother of three and until very recently, the main caregiver for our desperately ill mother. Mom died because Lindsey used her non -FDA approved drug Digipro to augment Mom’s failing heart. But Mom’s heart was too damaged from long-term cardiomyopathy, Lindsey’s drug pushed it too hard.

 

 

  • What is your idea of perfect happiness?

The life I am living right this very minute. Finally, the great Lindsey McCall knows what it’s like to feel alone, frightened, and hopeless. Exactly the way I have felt most of my life. This journalist, Kate Townsend, is getting a Pulitzer Prize for the story she wrote about Lindsey. And Lindsey sits in Huntsville Prison because she murdered our mother. How perfect is that?

 

  • What is your greatest fear?

That I am an alcoholic, that I’m addicted to drugs. That I can no longer control how much I need to drink. The shaking in my hands scares me. And there have been too many instances of blackouts where I can’t remember what happened. I think they are increasing. My coordination is getting worse as well.

 

 

  • What is your current state of mind?

I am ecstatic. Lindsey’s drug Digipro works-it’s been approved by the FDA. She did it, revolutionized the treatment for heart failure but she’ll be in prison for years. But I admit I am a little worried about the reporter. I don’t think Kate Townsend likes me.

 

  • On what occasion do you lie?

I’ve been lying since I was twelve. When I began to drink. To Mom and Dad, to just about everyone, teachers, boyfriends, husband and kids. It’s an art, lying. And requires enormous creativity and memory. Because it’s critical to remember the lies, if you forget the lies, then the problems start. I never forget.

 

  • When and where were you happiest?

I was a really happy kid. We moved all over the country because Dad was in the Air Force. I never minded because making friends came so easily to me. But when I was almost eleven, Mom had Lindsey. And I had to help her with the baby. At first, it was okay, she was kind of cute but then it wasn’t. Mom was tired a lot. She probably had the cardiomyopathy long before she was diagnosed. And Mom expected more and more of my help after school. So I started lying about homework and studying with friends. I guess the lying started even before I started drinking.

 

Title: The Fragrance Shed By A Violet: Murder in the Medical Center

Author: Lin Wilder

Genre: Medical Mystery, Courtroom Thriller

Publisher: Wyatt-Makenzie Imprint

 

Book Blurb:

Why did a Houston district attorney decide to involve the state in an area of the law that it has historically treated as sacrosanct: that of medical decision-making? Why did the DA decide to charge McCall with murder rather than criminal negligence in a civil court? Author Lin Weeks Wilder continues Dr. Lindsey McCall’s story in the new book, “The Fragrance Shed By A Violet Cover: Murder in The Medical Center”.

 

In a city where the Texas Medical Center reigns as one of the top employers in Houston, housing over three thousand medical researchers making the news with new pharmaceutical discoveries almost daily, why did twelve Houstonians unanimously decide to convict Dr. McCall for intentional murder following her trial?

 

These are the questions that lead investigative reporter Kate Townsend to write a Pulitzer Prize winning series called Murder in the Texas Medical Center. Haunted by the knowledge that her new-found fame has been purchased at too high a price; Kate is sure that McCall is not guilty.
Texas Governor Greg Bell hires former homicide detective and criminal defense attorney Rich Jansen to fix the escalating problems at the Huntsville Prisons recently inflamed by a lawsuit against infamous inmate Dr. Lindsey McCall. Dr. McCall is an internationally acclaimed cardiologist, researcher, and a 2002 nominee for the Nobel Prize for Medicine. When Jansen’s skills quickly result in the resignation of an incompetent prison medical director, he realizes that this strange saga is just beginning.
Mark Twain wrote that forgiveness was the fragrance shed by a violet upon the heel of the boot that has crushed it. This medical mystery weaves together the lives of two sisters, Lindsey, and Paula, with those of strangers as each cope with loss, betrayal, jealousy, and the exquisitely painful journey to forgiveness.
Wilder’s second edition of her debut novel has it all. Mystery, romance, and dysfunctional family relationships wrapped up in a tale of big pharma and medicine. Literary Fiction Review dubbed it ‘A story fragrant with love and forgiveness’: https://literaryfictionreview.com/fragrance.php

 

Extended Excerpt:

Prologue

 

She lay listening to the unfamiliar night sounds: the pacing of other sleepless prisoners, the occasional echo of a heavy-footed guard making his rounds. Mostly though, she waited for the terror of the dream to subside, for the iron bands around her heart to loosen, and for the awful pressure on her chest to lighten so that she could breathe. And she waited for her heart to climb back down into her chest and out of her throat.

 

The dream was a familiar one. It had begun four years before following the sudden death of a fifty-two-year-old man whose heart she had catheterized. Dr. Lindsey McCall had surgical hands—a reference to the skill and dexterity that she brought to the Cardiac Catheterization Laboratory at the University of Houston General Hospital. A colleague had made the comment during rounds one day during her cardiology fellowship at Houston General, and it had stuck.

 

There had been no reason for his death. Nate Morrison was a healthy senior executive with Southwest Oil, one of the largest oil conglomerates in the world. During his annual physical, Morrison had been referred to Houston General for a work up based on nonspecific changes in his cardiac diagnostic tests.

 

Upon reviewing his tests, Lindsey had suspected that the man’s coronaries might be clean—free of coronary artery disease. She was well aware of the numbers. Of the sixty thousand cardiac catheterizations performed each year in the United States, over 30 percent revealed clean coronaries: absence of plaque in the vessels supplying the heart with oxygenated blood. And the procedure was not benign. Complications of cardiac catheterization were not uncommon and ranged from mild hematoma to death. In twelve years, Lindsey had done over five hundred cardiac catheterizations and over three hundred angioplasties. She had never lost a patient.

 

But close to 75 percent of the revenue of her department was due to referrals from doctors practicing in Texas and the Houston metropolitan area; the physicians at Southwest Oil referred hundreds of patients to Houston General per year, usually for an angioplasty or cardiac cath. Furthermore, McCall was well acquainted with the financial realities of her profession—turning down lucrative procedures like cardiac catheterizations was not smart.

 

For some reason she could no longer recall, she, rather than one of the cath lab nurses, had gone to see this man the night before the procedure. While she had been reviewing the potential complications with her patient and obtaining his informed consent, Morrison had asked with a wink, “Just how many patients have you lost in your twelve-year career, Dr. McCall?”

 

His quick-grinned response to her answer had been, “Well then, let’s you and I make sure that I’m not the first, deal?”

 

Lindsey could picture that conversation as if it had happened a moment ago. Fourteen hours later, he was dead.

 

As she had done hundreds of times before upon awakening from the dream, Lindsey lay there second-guessing herself— asking all the questions that had been asked by his family, by the morbidity and mortality committee at the hospital, and by her chairman of medicine. The final diagnosis had been sudden death due to a massive left ventricular infarct most likely from coronary spasm. Neither his family nor the hospital held her responsible. There had never been even the suggestion of negligence on her part.

 

Her technique had been flawless. She had been calm and confident throughout the two-hour procedure, explaining what she was doing to her patient and laughing at his quick-witted responses. Lindsey had completed the injection of dye into the man’s left anterior coronary artery, and after satisfying herself that it, too, was free of plaque and had almost completely extracted the catheter from his coronary in preparation to end the procedure was when she heard the startled cry of her technician.

 

“Lindsey, he’s fibrillating, he’s fibrillating!”

 

For just a second, her gaze met that of her lead tech, Ben, who responded to her unspoken question. “He’s been in sinus rhythm for the whole exam—there was never any arrhythmia, not even a PVC!”

 

Ben was referring to premature ventricular contractions that are frequently harbingers of serious cardiac arrhythmias. Lindsey trusted this guy implicitly; they had worked together for over ten years. If Ben said there had been no warning of this potentially fatal arrhythmia, she believed him. So she and her staff went to work, certain that in just a few minutes, they would get control and be back to the routine work of winding down the procedure.

 

But they couldn’t.

 

They had worked for over three hours, along with six members of the hospital’s on-call code team who had responded to the emergency in the Cath lab. They were never able to restore a normal cardiac rhythm, despite massive amounts of antiarrhythmic and other emergency drugs along with numerous attempts at electrical defibrillation.

 

That was the last time she had accepted a patient for catheterization.

 

The chairman of Medicine at Houston General had spent hours with Lindsey over that first year following the death of this patient trying, in futile attempts, to help her forgive herself. He had known her since she had been accepted into the cardiology fellowship almost fifteen years earlier and had followed the young woman’s career at first with interest and later with excitement.

 

Dr. Simon Bayer was known to many as the cardiologists’ cardiologist. He too had been excellent in diagnostics, research, and in education. Author of several textbooks and principal investigator of countless experimental drug protocols, Dr. Bayer was internationally admired and respected. But in close to forty years as chairman of Internal Medicine at Houston General, Dr. Bayer had never before seen the talent exhibited by this young physician.

 

Early in her fellowship, Lindsey had talked with Dr. Bayer about her preliminary doctoral work with alteration of the molecule for digitalis. At that time, he had listened politely. Lindsey remembered sensing that her chairman believed she was chasing windmills—the drug had been around forever after all.

 

For centuries, physicians have treated heart failure with digitalis. Its effect on strengthening a failing left ventricle—the main pump of the four-chambered heart—remains unparalleled. But the drug has serious systemic side effects ranging from mild to potentially fatal depending on dosage and frequency. Lindsey had become interested in the drug in high school when her mother had been diagnosed with idiopathic cardiomyopathy— heart failure of unknown origin—at the age of forty-three.

 

Cardiomyopathies are a strange and almost-universally-fatal type of heart failure. Thought to be caused by a virus, the actual mechanism of disease is poorly understood. But the course of the disease is all too well known: increasing heart failure and incapacitation over time and death if not treated with heart transplantation. Despite living fifty miles from the premiere transplant center if the world, the Texas Medical Center in Houston, Lindsey’s mother would not consider transplantation. That she lived for close to thirty years without surgical intervention was considered a minor miracle by her physicians. Then, as now, digitalis was the drug of choice for heart failure, and so the balancing act of dosaging began—sufficient medication to keep the heart out of failure but not so much as to cause severe nausea and vomiting and toxicity to the heart.

 

Before her illness, Lindsey’s mom had been physically active with many outside interests and lots of friends. Although she had never worked outside her home, she had been active in volunteer and church work. The disease completely changed her personality; Ann became incapable of focusing on much other than her symptoms and the acute anxiety brought about by the facts of her disease and incapacitation.

 

Only thirteen at the time, Lindsey handled the virtual loss of her mother through intense study: of the heart, of her mother’s disease, and of the drugs that manage heart failure, specifically digitalis. This intellectual response to loss, crisis, and fear worked exceedingly well for the young girl and would become her major response to trauma throughout her life.

 

At the age of seven, Lindsey had decided that she would be a cardiologist and a research scientist; the acute onset of Ann McCall’s illness served to augment and crystallize Lindsey’s ambition. Throughout her junior and senior high school years, the young girl persuaded her chemistry and biology teachers to support her determination to alter the digitalis molecule in ways that would optimize its inotropic or strengthening effects on the heart, while mitigating its toxic effects.

 

Recognizing and respecting his daughter’s ambition, Tom McCall, Lindsey’s father, a NASA test pilot, made certain that Lindsey received the best of what the Clear Lake Texas schools offered in their advanced science courses. Therefore, Lindsey received quality tutors throughout the six years of junior and senior high school. Lindsey McCall’s cardiac models were entered at each science fair and, without fail, received first prize.

 

Buy Links: 

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Fragrance-Shed-Violet-Murder-Medical-ebook/dp/B016SNAW28

 

Barnes and Noble  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-fragrance-shed-by-a-violet-lin-wilder/1122746192;jsessionid=E052F2F1621F01918CBAF1085613B3BD.prodny_store01-atgap08?ean=9781942545255

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Walmart https://www.walmart.com/ip/The-Fragrance-Shed-by-a-Violet-Murder-in-the-Medical-Center/53643655?wmlspartner=wlpa&selectedSellerId=0&adid=22222222227043587008&wl0=&wl1=g&wl2=c&wl3=87165015769&wl4=aud-273067695102:pla-193654223089&wl5=9031747&wl6=&wl7=&wl8=&wl9=pla&wl10=8175035&wl11=online&wl12=53643655&wl13=&veh=sem

 

Lin Wilder

 

Author Biography:

Lin Wilder holds a Doctorate in Public Health and has published extensively in fields like cardiac physiology, institutional ethics, and hospital management. In 2005, she switched from non-fiction to fiction. Her series of medical thrillers are situated in Houston, Texas with many references to the Texas Medical Center where Lin worked for over twenty-three years. Her latest book is A Price for Genius. All her books are available at Amazon.

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lincwilder?ref=hl

Twitter https://twitter.com/LinWilder

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7944373.Lin_Wilder

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Dr.-Lin-Wilder/e/B007L380OM

LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/linwilder

About Me https://about.me/lin.wilder

There’s Magic in a Kiss: Guest Post by USA Today Bestseller @RuthACasie #kiss #romance #MFRWAuthor


kiss 1

 

Close your eyes and imagine the perfect kiss. Go ahead, I’ll wait. Got the picture set in your mind? Good.

 

Believe it or not a kiss requires 34 facial muscles and 112 postural muscles. The facial muscles are a given but postural? I’m serious. 112 muscles that relate to your posture are also involved. Of all these 11 muscles the most important is the orbicularis oris muscle, which is used to pucker your very sensitive lips. It’s your kissing muscle. We’re not talking about French kissing where your tongue, also a muscle, is the primary player. I’ll save that for another guest post.

 

kiss 2

 

Kissing has many health benefits. Affection in general has stress-reducing effects. Kissing in particular reduces stress which increases relationship satisfaction and lowers cholesterol. And it doesn’t stop there. Kissing can also encourage the release epinephrine and norepinephrine (adrenaline and noradrenaline) into the blood which will cause an adrenaline rush and increased cardiovascular activity. That’s why when you kiss that certain someone your heart races off. See, it’s magic.

 

There are also a lot of different types of kisses:

  • Romantic Kisses are an important expression of love and erotic emotions. This kiss is not only about lips touching lips. This kiss requires some intimacy.
  • Affectionate Kisses express feelings closeness without the erotic element and symbolize loyalty, gratitude, compassion, sympathy, intense joy, and profound sorrow.
  • Ritual Kisses are formal, symbolic or indicate devotion, and respect. We see this type of kiss in the wedding ceremony when the bride and groom kiss. We also see this type of kiss when national leaders meet.
  • Kiss of Peace demonstrates deep spiritual devotion. It was used in the early Catholic Church and also in secular festivities. In the Middle Ages the kiss of peace sealed the agreement with enemies. Even knights kissed each other before they went into combat-a way of forgiving each other all their wrongs.
  • Kiss of Respect was reverent and has an ancient origin. This kiss represents a mark of fealty, humility and reverence. The kiss on the forehead considered a ‘kiss of homage’ showed utmost respect.
  • Kiss of Friendship is used in America and Europe as a greeting between friends. Once only between women, today it is not uncommon to see a man kiss in greeting.

 

 

Ancient cultures threw kisses to the sun and to the moon, as well as to the images of the gods. Persians were the first to kiss the hand. Here are some different kinds of kisses from various cultures:

 

  • In Ancient Rome and some modern Pagan beliefs, worshipers, when passing the statue or image of a god or goddess, will kiss their hand and wave it towards the deity.
  • The holy kiss or kiss of peace is a traditional part of most Christian liturgies, though often replaced with an embrace or handshake today in Western cultures.
  • In the gospels of Matthew and Mark, not Luke or John, Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss. This is the basis of the term “the kiss of Judas”.
  • Catholics will kiss rosary beads as a part of prayer, or kiss their hand after making the sign of the cross. It is also common to kiss the wounds on a crucifix, or any other image of Christ’s Passion.
  • Pope John Paul II would kiss the ground on arrival in a new country.
  • Visitors to the Pope traditionally kiss his foot.
  • Catholics traditionally kiss the ring of a cardinal or bishop.
  • Catholics traditionally kiss the hand of a priest.
  • Eastern Orthodox and Eastern Catholic Christians often kiss the icons around the church on entering; they will also kiss the cross and/or the priest’s hand in certain other customs in the Church, such as confession or receiving a blessing.
  • Hindus sometimes kiss the floor of a temple.
  • Local lore in Ireland suggests that kissing the Blarney Stone will bring the gift of the gab.
  • Jews will kiss the Western wall of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, and other religious articles during prayer such as the Torah, usually by touching their hand, prayer shawl, or prayer book to the Torah and then kissing it. Jewish law prohibits kissing members of the opposite sex, except for spouses and certain close relatives.
  • Muslims may kiss the Black Stone during Hajj-their pilgrimage to Mecca.

 

 

This is all very nice but dare you tell me what type of kiss you really like best?

 

 Escapes

 

Title Second Chance by the Sea (Timeless Escapes Box Set)

Author Ruth A. Casie

Genre Contemporary Romance

Publisher Timeless Scribes Publishing

 

Book Blurb

Married for ten years, a couple at odds find their marriage was never registered. Will an impending disaster be the final straw that breaks them up or will it rekindle their love and send them back to the altar for a second chance?

 

Teaser  

 

Escapes meme

 

Buy Links

Buy e-Book: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Buy Print: Amazon

 

Ruth A Casie close

 

RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author of swashbuckling action-adventure time-travel romance about strong empowered women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. Her Druid Knight novels have both finaled in the NJRW Golden Leaf contest. The Guardian’s Witch, part of the Stelton Legacy series was a Reader’s Crown Finalist. Ruth also writes contemporary romance in the Havenport series with enough action to keep you turning pages. Ruth lives in New Jersey with her husband, three empty bedrooms and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she started writing time travel romance, she was a speech therapist, international bank product and marketing manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing time travel romance. For more information, please visit www.RuthACasie.com or visit her on Facebook, @RuthACasie, Twitter, @RuthACasie, or Pinterest RuthACasie.

 

Sign up for Ruth’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bau7Qv

 

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