If You Love #Paranormal + Small Town #Romance, Read the Destiny series by @LiviaQuinn #IARTG


LQ LA

 

Enter Middle Earth (Destiny)…you won’t want to leave.

 

Ages ago a pact was made between all the supernatural species – shifters, djinn, dragons, vampires and fae – to protect humans. Just don’t tell the humans…

 

Tempe Pomeroy is a mail carrier and Tempestaerie though she’s been denying her storm powers for most of her life. Now her quickening in upon her and strange things are starting to happen in Destiny.

 

Former Navy pilot Jack Lang took the job as Sheriff of Destiny because he thought it was a quaint, safe, normal small town to raise his teenage daughter, like Mayberry.

 

Turns out Destiny is not Mayberry. Seriously, it’s more like Middle Earth.

 

Storm Crazy

 

storm-crazy-ebook-new-05152016-copy

 

Blurb:

I’m Sheriff Jack Lang. After an exciting career as a Navy pilot, Destiny seemed like the perfect place to settle down – safe, sane and secure. But that ship sailed when I met Tempest Pomeroy – sexy redheaded mail lady and trouble magnet. Tempe never fails to test the limits of my patience or the law. Every time I think it’s the last straw, up pops another haystack.

 

My name is Tempest Pomeroy, and my human job is delivering the mail. I’m also a Paramortal like my family, or I’m supposed to be. If I didn’t have a few little talents, I’d think I was adopted. To say I was having a bad day would be like saying Katrina dropped a little rain on New Orleans. My brother’s genie bottle is missing, my mother’s AWOL, and the sheriff and my ex-lover are squaring off like yard dogs staking a claim over a poodle. I am no one’s poodle. I’ve denied my heritage for most of my life but all this chaos is a sign of my quickening Tempestaerie power.

 

Oh, and the sheriff? He thinks he’s settled in a normal, quaint small town—like Mayberry?! We’ll see how that turns out… Things better settle down soon, ‘cause I’m about to go…Storm Crazy.

 

Excerpt:

 

I heard a quiet click of metal behind me, spun around and swallowed a startled gasp. I was staring into the barrel of a mean looking gun, and at the other end of that rigid grip was an even meaner looking Jack Lang, the one I hadn’t met until now, a cold-as-ice predator. His knuckles were white but his arm was steady as a granite mountain.

 

“Where’s…my…daughter?” he growled. One eye actually twitched as silver eyes whitened into pure frost. If he was trying to scare me, he’d succeeded.

 

A sound rumbled up from his chest like that of an animal. “What have you done with Jordie?”

 

Recognition came in a flash. I smacked my hand against my forehead. “I knew I recognized her.”

 

His eyes seemed to take on an angular appearance, brows winging up, but the gun never wavered. “Woman, you’d better start talking or you’re not going to like my next move.”

 

Not an animal—a papa-bear.

 

I’m sorry.”

 

He gave a snarl of pain and grabbed me. “What do you mean you’re sorry?”

 

“I mean…” I squirmed in his bruising grip… ”I’m sorry I didn’t put it together.”

 

He roared, “What the hell are you talking about? Where is Jor—”

 

“She’s at your parents’.” It finally dawned on me; he thought I’d kidnapped his daughter. Zeus’ newborn godling!

 

“You’re lying. I was just there.” He recoiled when I put my hand on his arm, but thankfully, he was professional enough not to pull the trigger. My guess: he was probably tempted.

 

“Call her,” I suggested.

 

He pointed his finger at me and said, “You. Don’t. Move.”

 

This time, I obeyed.

 

Buy Links:

Universal Link https://www.books2read.com/u/m2GNd4

 

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L02VHE0

 

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/storm-crazy-destiny-paramortals/id1162229951?mt=11

 

 

 

Cry Me a River

 

Cry Me a River NEW EBOOK Flattened copy

 

Blurb:

Isn’t it just like a man to exit a relationship when he finds out a woman has a few little secrets?

 

The last time I saw Sheriff Lang, he got his first glimpse of my Paramortal “talents” – a few measly bolts of lightning aimed … in his general direction. He’s finally on board with our search for my brother but time is running out. In the course of the investigation we’ve gone from attraction to suspicion, support to friendship, romance to oh-my-god-get-away-from-me revulsion.

 

Jack’s an ex-Navy pilot. He says he wants to know “everything”. But after we answer his questions, he’ll probably grab his daughter and take the first jet out of Middle Earth. Oh, he may stick around, help me save my brother and discover the whereabouts of my parents, but I doubt he’ll still want to take me to the Mardi Gras ball, once he knows “everything”. There’s a lot of everything

 

 

Excerpt  

“What’s a Tempest fairy?” I asked her finally.

 

“Tempestaerie,” she corrected. “A major Tempestaerie can control the elements, air and water, though they will have some influence over fire and earth. Thus—my rain and lightning bolts, such as they are. Minor Tempestaeries like Paige have no significant talent.”

 

“Is that an honest assessment or just two kittens fighting over the milk?” I asked.

 

“Tempe’s understating her potential, Jack.” Dylan said, “In the past they’ve been known to call down asteroids.”

 

That got my attention.

 

Tempe shrugged. “It’s not all catastrophic drama though. A storm faerie, as we’ve been called, can turn into anything associated with weather.” She was quiet for a minute then her gaze met mine, her voice turned soft, sad. “I just remembered—when I was in my first week at school I think, it had been raining for days—the principal’s assistant came to my teacher and handed her a pair of black boots. There was a note in them from my mother. It said, “So your little feet will be dry and I can keep my girl close.” Her eyebrows dipped as tears flooded her eyes. “She’d turned into a pair of boots, and I walked around with her on my feet all day… long.”

 

Aurora said, “It was all Phoebe could get away with—”

 

A few splats of water were the only warning we had before a gentle rain began to fall on every surface of Aurora’s workroom. “Oh, dear. It’s getting quite unpredictable,” Aurora said as she wiped the rain from her eyes.

 

Dylan seemed to be out of patience. He rose advancing on me, staring me down with just a hint of grizzly-face. I rose standing toe to toe while the anger in his eyes sparked. I suspected it was directed mostly at himself. He cared for Tempe and the people here. I respected that. “You in or out, Lang?”

 

I knew my answer but I had a statement to make as well. “Show me your other—what did you call it, your Para—” The air bubbled around Dylan making it hard to discern any of his features, then the dressed in black, dark and deadly man standing eye to eye with me blurred once again into an eight-foot shaggy Sasquatch. His huge paws hung at his side, level with my shoulders.

 

I studied his furry-face, the slavering mouth, the intelligent black eyes. “Turn around,” I ordered.

 

The creature’s head tilted as if to say, Really? but turned as I reached out and tugged on his fur. A sound like a growl escaped and an image from the previous week resurfaced. “I saw you on Grand Pied Boulevard the morning after… damn,” I shook my head. “Grand Pied. French, for big foot—”

 

A bark escaped the massive jaws and the Finrir’s eyes glinted with laughter.

 

The air shifted as Dylan turned back, and I was face to face with the man again.

 

“So, you’re in.” Dylan’s voice sounded deeper, as if his vocal chords hadn’t quite made it from growl mode to human. Scratch that, not human.

 

“It’s a lot to take in…”

 

“And no time to play catch up,” said Dylan.

 

Tempe had stiffened, but visibly relaxed when I asked, “Where do we go from here?”

 

“We find River and take care of whoever is responsible.”

 

“Who do you think killed the Nucklevay?”

 

Dylan corrected, “Nucklavee. I’m not sure. Paige and her partners, Phoebe’s protectors, some other entity—human even—though not likely.”

 

“A human, go figure,” I muttered. I’d come a long way in two weeks… Light years.

 

 

Buy Links 

Universal Link https://www.books2read.com/u/m07vl3

 

Amazon US   http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00O2I8X8M

 

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/cry-me-a-river-12

 

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/cry-me-river-destiny-paramortals/id1162435176?mt=11

 

 

Eve of Chaos

 

Eve of Chaos EBOOK 11192014

 

Blurb

“You vill meet a dahk dangerrous sttrrangah…”  Aurora predicted at the Mardi Gras ball, and as if someone left their Swords of War video game on “share” in a parallel universe, he walked in. Conor de Sept Flambe´— the Dark Knight they’d dubbed him—with his dark gleaming muscles, the distinctive leathery tattoos across his shoulders, armored boots and magnificent flashing swords.

 

“Where did he get those swords?” Montana asked, drooling. She’d been unable to force her eyes away from him all evening. Then he’d walked across the ballroom floor, parting the crowd like Moses through the Red Sea, and asked her to dance. Turns out, he’s quite the music lover. He said he wanted to show her some of his moves. Right! Her Dinnshencha warrior wasn’t born yesterday… There’s more to this Knight than meets the eye, and he’s quite an eyeful. Recognizing her diminishing strength, he offers to prepare her for the Chaos, twenty-four hours when many Paramortals would lose their power.

 

Sheriff Jack Lang knows something’s afoot with Conor’s appearance in Destiny. Crazies are coming out of the woodwork, Paramortals are losing their abilities, and dispositions going AWOL, Jack wants to know who will be left standing beside him when the Para-moon begins. If Flambe´ is what Jack thinks he is, the good guys might have a chance. If not, they’ll be in deep… trouble.  Where’s an F-18 when you need one?

 

 

Excerpt:

 

The chatter around us quieted suddenly. Montana and Jack looked over my shoulder.

Montana hissed behind me, a sound I’d never heard from her. “Mother of all the gods! Who is that?”

 

We turned as the elder at the door called out, “Conor de Sept-Flambe, Knight of his Majesty’s realm.”

 

Jack stiffened and muttered, “Which Majesty?”

 

“What realm?” I wondered aloud.

 

“Where’d he get those damn swords?” breathed Montana behind me. Leave it to a warrior goddess to appreciate and hone in on the most obvious feature of the newcomer’s costume.

 

The—it seemed lacking somehow to call him a man though he appeared to be, but I could see why both of them had reacted to the stranger.

 

He wore a beautiful black and red mask, which was slightly reptilian in design, strapped around his shoulder length black hair. He was shirtless and radiated danger with intricate red and black tattoos that resembled bat wings across his shoulders and triceps. He didn’t need a costume t-shirt with abs painted on it. The ridges of his torso indicated strength and discipline. Matching leather strips banded his bulging biceps and matched the jagged hemmed samurai pants floating about his muscular calves.

 

“Looks like someone left their video game on too long,” said Jack.

 

The Knight Flambe did indeed look like he’d walked straight from the Martial Arts/Samurai Assassin video game into the Grand Ball. His boots were exquisitely tooled silver and bronze, with a belt of the same metals, which glimmered flat against his lower abdomen. When he turned to hand his invitation to the elder there was a collective murmur and Jack made a low guttural sound.

 

Two long deadly looking gold and silver swords crisscrossed his back and seemed to shoot fire with each movement down their jagged twisting length. As he listened to the announcement, the knight’s hands, girded at the wrist in pewter, bronze and gold to the elbows, fisted and relaxed, making the tendons flex from elbow to chest. Whew!

 

Montana stood like a statue of a Valkyrie, her hands clenching and unclenching, piercing cobalt eyes locked on the figure dressed in precious metals, leather and a lot of bronzed skin. Menori reacted restlessly to the dark knight.

 

So did Jack. It was as if they were meeting as equals on some arena of war—not as I’d described him and Dylan—like dogs fighting over their Poodle. This was something elemental, as if they knew each other at their core. It lasted mere seconds but it was as if time during those few seconds amplified, expanded to push away all other sounds and only those of us who saw, felt, and understood, well, I didn’t understand except to know that something of impetus had passed between them.

 

Party sounds filtered in again from the other room and the Knight Flambe’ took three deliberate steps off the platform, glancing toward Montana and away. His sharp predatory gaze met each attendee briefly, making each person acknowledge his presence, like he was studying them one by one and simultaneously erasing himself from their minds. I shook my head. We’d had our share of supernaturals, but this powerful looking ‘soldier’, a sexy sword-wielding samurai warrior… it was a first.

 

The newcomer bowed and walked deliberately through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea for the Israelites, to give him and his swords an unencumbered path to the bar. Montana devoured him with her eyes. She had not moved since he walked in the door. Interesting.

 

“Reckon that’s a costume? Or is he some kind of knight in shining armor?” I asked.

 

Jack said, “He doesn’t seem the type.”

 

Buy Links:

Universal Link https://www.books2read.com/u/4ANjqb

 

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00Q39GBS2

 

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/eve-of-chaos-3

 

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/take-these-broken-wings/id1163902107?mt=11

 

 

 

Blame It on the Moon

 

BlameIOTM web copy

 

 

Blurb:

It’s the height of the Para-moon and Jack is up to his ‘six’ in alligators. Defending those weaker than himself is in his DNA which is what made him become a Navy pilot. But who is he kidding? Alligators he could handle! Supernatural bad guys… and ragtag doesn’t begin to describe his band of temporary ’heroes’. If he had to go to war with the troup that showed up at dawn, he might as well start cutting up white sheets and attaching them to garden stakes.

 

There’s little time to worry about his future with Tempe as one crisis after another raises its head. He must find a healer for Dylan, relocate a lost elemental, make a formal request for help from the Fae, figure out what the hell his crazy ex Georgeanne is up to, and – very important – keep the humans in the dark. If worse comes to worse, he has a dragon on his side and a few surprises up his sleeve, “Yippe, ki, yi…”

 

But a lot can happen in twenty-four hours and things… don’t always go as planned.

 
Excerpt:

Montana

 

What? I can be humble…

 

“Um, I know you’d prefer to eat me more than listen to me, or divide me up with the clan…”

 

Petre growled, “I don’t share…”

 

I heard Conor swords slip out of their sheaths. Petre’s posture relaxed slightly. I said, “I was asked to inform you of the Chaos and beg your assistance.” Petre’s eyes flared and the view of his teeth became more prominent as he gave what I assumed – that comment seemed to give him particular pleasure.

 

And if birds could be said to roll their eyes, I would swear that’s what Petre’s Queen had aimed in his direction. Then Petre said, “Kneel, vampire.”

 

It wasn’t my imagination. The crowd of nasty looking fairies thought this conversation was the appetizer to the main course. My snide comment about the shakedown earlier might come back to bite me—literally. I’d have to be more careful in the future and more aware of species customs—if I made it past the next sixty-seconds. A tiny voice in my head, I’d like to think that was Arabella as well, said I’d been getting my way for too long.

 

“Uhnn…your highness, I’m sorry about my earlier insensitive comment. We could really—”

 

Petre shook his head no and drool escaped the toothy grins of some of the fae’s lips. He extended a hand that looked like a giant spider with its disjointed digits and large knuckles, and pointed the longest of four fingers at the floor.

 

I groaned inwardly and looked at Conor, who simply leaned on his giant sword and shrugged. I could almost hear him thinking, “Needs must”. Yeah, yeah.

 

Okay, what’s a little humble pie if it keeps you from being torn apart by a bunch of crazed fae? Watch them carefully, I knelt on the stone floor feeling the thrum of energy vibrating through the floor in pulsing waves.

 

“Can we talk now?” I asked Petre, beginning to get concerned.

 

He studied me briefly then satisfied, asked,”What were the exact words the Tempestaerie used?”

 

I repeated Phoebe’s message verbatim. “Vazar Aquilei vel Aq-ligea meile.” It was the old Paramortal language, to paraphrase it meant, Fae, get your asses over here and defend your Paramortal brothers. I waited for a signal from the fae King that my message has been accepted.

 

Subtle changes took place on his features and in the room’s atmosphere. It wouldn’t have been noticeable to most beings but I felt the shift from pure antagonism to something more positive. Petre said in his even, kingly voice,”Rise, Bratislava.”

 

Surprised that he knew my real name I looked at him. He was once again beautiful and if not cheerful, at least he looked hospitable, like he could skip the vampire au gratin.

 

Arabella appeared at my side in her fairy queen body. I wondered if Conor was affected by the Queen’s beauty or their glamour but when I looked his way, he remained impassive. He was really good.

 

 

Buy Links:

Universal Link https://www.books2read.com/u/b5wQRm

 

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012X9HWJC

 

Kobo  https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/blame-it-on-the-moon-4

 

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/blame-it-on-moon-destiny-paramortals/id1163902572?mt=11

 

 

 

Take These Broken Wings

 

Broken Wings EBOOK 06252016 copy

 

Blurb:

Strap in! ‘cause it’s a wild ride through Destiny, or should I say Middle Earth…

 

Five months ago, Sheriff Jack Lang would have sworn there were no such things as vampires, tempestaeries, djinn or dragons. That was before he met Tempest Pomeroy, his sexy redheaded mail lady and… trouble magnet. He’d fallen for her before he found out about her “special abilities”. But that wasn’t what turned his life upside down.

 

No, to say Jack’s world had gone FUBAR was like saying Wolverine’s fingernails were long enough for a manicure.

 

Tempe had been afraid her supernatural nature would be a problem for Jack, who’d mistaken Destiny for a “normal” safe small town, but that didn’t explain why he’d left her in favor of haunting the highest levees in the parish. She knew he’d received a shock, but what was it going to take to get him to return to his life – and to her? A stubborn man is one thing; a grumpy, depressed twenty-ton dragon is a bit more of a challenge…

 
Excerpt

Tempe

 

“Aiy-yy…”

 

The long cry intensified as it grew closer. Then a bright silver streak whizzed by me, the reason for the sound now apparent.

 

I watched my boyfriend, a silver dragon, run toward the top of the levee at full speed—it was more like a clumsy lope—and leap, sun sparkling like diamonds from his crystalline scales before he disappeared from sight. The sound cutoff abruptly and was followed by a huge splash. Zeus’ missing molars!

 

I made it to the crown of the levee just in time to watch Jack plummet, wings flapping furiously—to no avail—into the river below. “Below” wasn’t that far and “river” was too generous a word for the swampy backwater where he now sat, covered in duck weed and gumbo looking like a dejected dragon on a Saturday morning TV show. And tired. Poor baby.

 

His handsome dragon face turned up at me, beautiful silver green eyes revealing more than a little distress. I’d thought he could shift, but he hadn’t. Instead he pushed up out of the muck, his enormous backside making a loud wet swhuuuck as the gumbo released its hold.

 

I stood out of the line of fire while he gave a mighty shake and great globs of slimy mud flew in all directions, leaving his scales sparkling and shiny once again. At least he was getting a grasp of some aspects of his change, or it was instinct. His powerful hind legs lifted from the swampy water and one step at a time he walked toward me, then hopped up onto the bank. The ground quaked. I widened my stance to keep from falling over. From my position on the levee I was nearly eye level with him.

 

“No luck, huh?” I asked.

 

He opened his mouth to speak and remembered he wasn’t able to, yet. Our dragon friend, Conor, seemed to think speaking in his shifted form would come in time. Jack shook his crystal-bright head and rainbows bounced off the water.

 

“That sucks,” I said, shading my eyes. He glared at me and I shrugged. “Sorry, no pun intended.” He turned away.

 

A trudging dragon is a sorry sight. All of his frustration and uncertainty was apparent in the slump of his massive dragon shoulders, in the way his wings dropped to his sides, and in the ground-shaking thump of his feet. For a second I thought about having a t-shirt made for him with MY BUTT IS DRAGGIN’ emblazoned on the front. I’m really not that mean, just as frustrated as my man.

 

“Jack. Wait.” I ran down the levee after him as he plodded, a fatalistic air to his stride. Boom…thud, boom…thud.

 

Jack’s problem, the disappointment that was eating at him after the initial hope that had helped him come to terms with his dragonness, was that he couldn’t fly. He simply could not believe that a former Navy jet pilot-turned-dragon would not be a flying dragon. And obviously, it wasn’t for lack of trying.

 

I’d never forget the first time I saw him in his backyard under the moonlight looking alternately disconcerted and elated. He denied the elated part right off, because it simply wouldn’t do to admit that as much as he wanted to fly again, admitting to the desire to fly as a dragon would just not do. First, he had to admit he was a dragon. Maybe I could find him a dragons anonymous meeting. His problem is denial. Jack is old hands with the emotion.

 

I watched his steady progress toward the woods. He’d apparently given up for the day. The sun was rising and humans would be about. I wished he’d return to his job as sheriff of Destiny. That and his parental responsibilities would keep him grounded. Oh, Zeus, another pun.

 

Buy Links:

Universal Link https://www.books2read.com/u/mZAjD3

 

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012X9HWJC

 

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/take-these-broken-wings-2

 

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/take-these-broken-wings/id1163902107?mt=11

 

 

 

Blood Moon (One of 20 novels in the Moonlight Magic box set) preorder now for $0.99 Releases 10/31/17

 

MoonlightMagicBoxsetWithoutBG FINAL

 

Blood Moon by Livia Quinn Blurb:

 

There’s a new supe in Destiny. She sauntered into the Moat of Morpheus¾ a redheaded violet-eyed warrior carrying a giant head-splitter of a sword and wielding it with magic. Her name was Cinder. River felt an immediate attraction as well as a lifting of the despair that had been his only companion for months. But it was short lived.

 

She was there to kill a dragonhunter and she accused River of hiding the truth about him. Turns out, she was right. River had a secret and his own reasons for remaining quiet. If he couldn’t break free from the villain’s control, there would be devastating consequences for his family and ultimately, the other Paramortals.

 

After his sister and the dragon sheriff go missing, River and Cinder join forces. But history has a way of coming full circle and echoes from their past bring a shattering revelation about their Paramortal family and the dragonhunter’s true identity, a perspective neither of them could have anticipated. Can they forgive the past to overcome their common enemy or will the news tear their relationship and the Paramortals apart forever?

 

Excerpt:

River was deathly sick of hanging out at bars, especially this one. He didn’t know if the depression and fatalism that had absorbed all his thoughts had started before he’d found out about the enthrallment, or if they were a product of the company he was keeping, miscreants, killers, thieves, variants, whose main goal was to destroy Paramortals. They had no compunctions about who they used or how. Case in point… his ‘brother’. He’d become numb to them, apathetic about their open hostility and uncaring about their jibes.

 

“He may be the son of the greatest Djinn, but look at him. He’s a wastrel,” said a dark fae. “We could take him.”

 

River had spent a small amount of energy to beat back their rhetoric though he hadn’t much cared. What was wrong with him? He remembered enough to know he was different.

 

Maybe his strange response to the sexy red dragon had temporarily awakened his sensibilities, and his moral compass. Yes, he’d felt it when she was close to him. Where was she? She could be trying again at this very moment to take Styx’ head.

 

He wished. At least, he knew he should and could wish for that very outcome. If it were that simple, it would be done. Over. Fini. But Djinn couldn’t grant their own wishes.

 

Something pressed again at the corner of his mind. The times he’d been close to her… it was almost as if her presence countered the emotional effects of the enthrallment. He’d felt bewitched by her that first time. He set his glass down. Maybe he could test his theory.

 

A harried voice from the other end of the bar drew River’s attention. “Eh, mate, ah need a cold one, and fast. Ma feet ‘er burnin’. The water is near boilin’ out ther’ and the sand ain’t much bettuh. It’s turned to glass in some places, eh?”

 

Two creatures scooted their chairs back and walked toward the exit, curious to see this phenomenon. River frowned. What could make water boil and sand turn to glass?

 

Dragon fire for one.

 

He passed the scruffy looking were, reptilian if his webbed feet were any indication, and strode quickly down the tunnel after the other two.

 

He sensed her presence on the Isle as soon as he exited the tunnel. Djinn radar was keen or… well, there was something special about her. Finding a small crowd gathered not a hundred yards from the Moat, he merely stood behind them, tall enough to watch the action over their heads. He wasn’t the only one mesmerized by the display she was putting on.

 

She was as bright as the sun, majestic, with her feet planted in the sand, her neck stretched out, creating a large circle of brilliant blue flame. Several short blasts were accompanied by her large claws kicking the sand. She aimed the next blast down the beach away from the crowd, obviously aware of her audience and taking care with them, but she was just as obviously in a snit.

 

He laughed. And everyone on the beach turned. Djinn were renowned for their thunderous voices and boisterous laughter going back to ancient times. It went with their gregarious personalities and strong connection to the elements. But this wasn’t something anyone had heard from River, ever. Dutch¾but never River. Some had begun to question if they were even related.

 

They weren’t the only ones paying attention. The red dragon had stopped mid breath and turned her haughty glare on him, which made him laugh even harder. Efrit, she was mad because he was interrupting her tantrum.

 

She lowered her head and lifted her powerful legs, planting one foot in front of the other as the crowd parted, watching, fascinated by the play in front of them, forgetting their fear and the heat. This was going to be entertaining.

 

MoonlightMagicFront FINAL

 

Buy Links:

Preorder now for .99 for 20 books including Blood Moon

 

Amazon ‪https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074XK3PMW

 

Kobo  ‪https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/moonlight-magic-4

 

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/moonlight-magic/id1273269358?mt=11&uo=4   

 

Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Biography:

Hi, I’m Livia Quinn. With a lifelong fascination (read that: phobia) of storms, and living in Louisiana where severe weather is a part of life, it was only natural that it would play a big part in my world. The farther east you go the more weather you see and the less paranormal the stories are. But that doesn’t mean there’s no magic. What would life be like without a little magic?

 

Visit the world of Storm Lake on my website and view a glossary of terms, character list, map and a tourism brochure. But please note: Storm Lake exists only in my fertile mind.

 

 

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

 

Amazon Author 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 Quinns Facebook Reader Group http://bit.ly/2gBFQ12

 

Advertisements

Even Dragons Get the Blues… Take These Broken Wings @LiviaQuinn #books #dragons #MFRWAuthor


Broken Wings EBOOK 06252016 copy

 

How do you handle stress?

 

Sheriff Jack Lang came to Destiny after hearing it was a normal “safe” small town – the perfect place to raise his teenage daughter after years of abuse by his crazy ex. Well, the “normal” ship sailed the day he met Tempest Pomeroy. The weeks that followed challenged him far beyond his years as a Navy pilot. He’d been both appalled and attracted to the quirky mail carrier with the rainbow shaded hair and unpredictable weather “talents”. The events of the last months had rolled over them like a tidal wave and just as he was getting used to the idea of being a human lawman in a town of supernaturals, his world had been turned upside down.

 

 

Blurb:

Five months ago, Sheriff Jack Lang would have sworn there were no such things as vampires, tempestaeries, djinn or dragons. That was before he met Tempest Pomeroy, trouble magnet and sexy redheaded mail lady. He’d fallen for her before he found out about her “special abilities”. But that wasn’t what turned his life upside down. No, to say Jack’s world had gone FUBAR was like saying Wolverine’s fingernails were long enough for a manicure.

 

 

Tempe had been afraid her supernatural nature would be a problem for Jack, who’d mistaken Destiny for a “Mayberry-like” small town, but that didn’t explain why he’d left her in favor of haunting the highest levees in the parish. She knew he’d received a shock, but what was it going to take to get him to return to his life and to her? A stubborn man is one thing; a grumpy, depressed twenty-ton dragon is a bit more of a challenge.

 

 

Excerpt:

My stomach growled, again, and I caught a tantalizing whiff. What was it with this persistent aching hunger? Lately, I ate anything in my path, and I mean anything.

 

One thing had changed, however¾my sense of smell. I could smell a flea farting at fifty paces. I walked quickly around the building, tossing the coffee to the curb and marched like a laser beam – straight to the green dumpster at the rear of the parking lot.

 

The next thing I knew I was hip deep in trash, my new sniffer guiding me through an assortment of bags and boxes. My stomach thundered, but I was getting used to it, being hungry, I mean. I didn’t know what it took to fill up my dragon gut because so far it had never been full. And these pickings were slim.

 

What once would’ve turned Jack Lang’s stomach wasn’t bothering me, Jack Lang, Dragon Shifter, in the least. From here on, I’d be thinking of dumpsters as food banks.

 

I took in the chewed chicken wings, packets of catsup, smashed French-fries and hushpuppies, a bag of dredging flour and cornmeal. My mind lumped it together as energy. I squeezed the catsup onto my tongue. I couldn’t get enough, the containers and packaging were slowing me down. I popped leftover bones and followed them with handfuls of flour. Then I spotted a bucket of old grease and food sitting by the door to the dumpster. Yum!

 

As I reached for the handle a pair of familiar work boots and tanned legs entered my field of vision. “Jack, what are you doing in that dumpster?”

 

Tempe’s eyes widened when she saw my face, my hand on the handle of the bucket. I followed her gaze to the flour covering my shirt, pants and boots. I’d been single-mindedly scavenging and hadn’t had a clue that my uniform was caked in white crud, probably my face as well.

 

“Oh, this?” I couldn’t stop… I was on a binge. I reached for the bucket of slop, which had probably been awaiting some pig farmer, and upended it like a Super Duper 90 drink from Gatorz Grub.

 

While I guzzled the rich fatty mix of lard and leftovers I watched Tempe’s face turn green and she grimaced. “That is so gross!”

 

I stopped long enough to belch. “Hold that thought.” I finished off the bucket, let out an audible sigh of satisfaction, wiped my hands on my pants and tossed her my keys. “Do me a favor, will ya? Grab one of the duffels from my trunk.”

 

Her face said I needed more than just a clothing change. Well, it is what it is. I realized I was approaching midday with a different attitude, although it probably wasn’t quite the attitude Tempe had been looking for. When she returned, I pulled myself away from my delicious snack—I could always slip back tonight after they’d restocked my dumpster—they were open twenty-four hours.

 

I burped and cut a big gust, as we Navy pilots say. Tempe stopped a couple feet away pinching her nose shut. “Zeuus, Jack! Uu bight deed to thee a twagon toctor.” She extended the duffel to me with one finger of her other hand, as if she was afraid of getting cooties. I stripped off my shirt and pants and tugged on the clean clothes.

 

“Where did you come from?” I asked.

 

“I was on my way to Harmony and spotted your cruiser. I was just curi¾ Her voice trailed off.

 

“You were curious if I’d gone back to work like I said I would. You don’t have to worry, Tempe, darling.” I winced at my sarcastic tone. There was going to be hell to pay for treating the women I loved like this, but right now… “I stopped for coffee but after I meet with the ME, and have lunch with my mom, I plan to find Jordie wherever she is and let her flay my scales off. Then I have a case to solve.”

 

She didn’t miss that I hadn’t mentioned us. Things were not kosher in Denmark, or whatever that saying was, but I was making some baby steps toward taking my old life back. That was good, right?

“What’s up with the dumpster diving?”

 

I adjusted my gun belt on my hip and shrugged, “I was hungry.”

 

“Well, sorry I interrupted. Have you talked to Conor about this…um… hunger problem?” Tempe asked.

 

“Nope.” I spotted two nearly whole turkey legs lying on top of a trash bag and reached in snagging them—with two claws that shot out of my fingertips! “Shit.”

 

“What is it?” Tempe jumped forward, alarmed.

 

I held up my hand to show Tempe the drumsticks speared on a pair of five-inch claws. “How am I supposed to investigate when… claws pop out of my hands when I least expect it?”

 

“Um, well…” her lips twisted in a grimace. She shrugged.

 

“Right.” I took two chomps on the grimy, rotten legs then tossed them over my shoulder into the dumpster as I walked away, staring as the claws receded when they weren’t needed anymore. Which actually kind of rocked.

 

 

Buy Take These Broken Wings at Your Favorite Retailer: https://www.books2read.com/u/mZAjD3

 

 

What readers are saying…

 

“Destiny is like a mini-vacation from the real world.”

 

“My new favorite series” “Book 5 is out! quirky characters, shifters and magic. What else could you want?”

 

Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

About the Author:

Livia Quinn is a DC native who lives by the bayou in Louisiana. She believes in the power of love. To see excerpts from all her books visit https://liviaquinn.com

 

 

Social Media Links:

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

Her new 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 Quinns Facebook Reader Group http://bit.ly/2gBFQ12

 

 

Shapeshifter Kat Sits Down With N. N. Light #paranormalromance #IARTG #POTLReads


kat2
Kat from Take These Broken Wings by Livia Quinn (Photo Credit: pixabay)

 

“Come on, Kat. Don’t you mean he licked you with his tongue and held you with his furry paws?” Tempe was shocked when she overheard me telling Aurora about my confused feelings.

 

…On the eve of the chaos as the Para-moon reached its apex, a series of events changed my budding relationship with Dylan McGuinness forever, or so I’d thought. Dylan had almost died during the Para-moon as a result of a spell put on his father hundreds of years ago. He’d emerged from the shaman’s healing waters as a mere wolf pup and I thought our relationship as lovers was over. After two years of being on the run I’d only just allowed myself to have friends, to trust a man enough to let down my guard. And then he was gone and I was merely the owner of a growing wolf with lusty doggy tendencies.

 

It looked like he’d never have his human form again, but lately I had cause to wonder – when he looks at me so intently in his handsome wolfie form – I swear I can see Dylan’s intelligent brain. And yes, there’s a spark of attraction on my end. So, I understand Tempe’s skepticism. My first thought had been, “not my species!”

 

See, Dylan was a Finrir – that’s a cross between a grizzly and a wolf but after the Para-moon he was only a wolf puppy. Until recently, when he put on a growth spurt and now my panther is purring at this big beautiful black wolf. What to do? For the first time since I took refuge in Destiny I’ve turned to my friends for advice because something’s changed. Though he’s still heeding his hormonal urges to chase the neighborhood hussies, suddenly when I look into his eyes I sense my Dylan, the sexy dark investigator. Is he trying to tell me something? Maybe Conor can help…

 

Excerpt:

* Conor *

 

The sun was sinking on the horizon as I flew over the eastern part of Laccassine parish searching for the wolf. I spotted Dylan running along the road to the levee where’d I’d seen him several times since his healing had gone awry. The wolf probably liked the view of the moon from the high point at Grande Colline. I swooped down to nab him behind the scruff of his neck, turned my head and deposited him on my back.

 

It had become a game with us. He ran, I chased, and then he happily rode high on my nape until I wore him out. It was hard work trying to maintain your balance on a live dragon while wind gusts tried to send you plummeting to your death. I cut the ride short to find out what was disturbing the wolf and landed near a lone Cypress to wait while he drank from the river and took a quick swim to cool himself off.

 

The wolf shook his fur and slunk over to lay beside me, leaning against my tail as we watched the moon start its ascent, a white ball against a dusky blue gray sky.

 

“Yer woman is worried about you,” I said. The wolf’s head whipped around toward me, tilting as if this was news to him. Then his shoulders settled and he resumed his survey of the sunset.

 

“Ach, what is this about, Dylan? Has somethin’ changed then?” This time the wolf whined and sat up, front paws stepping in place restlessly. “I don’t speak woof, mon, so ye’ll have to give me a hint or a sign if I’m on the right track.”

 

Dylan’s intense eyes stared at me. “You can concentrate all you want but I canna read yer mind. Montana thinks you’re out of sorts because you were unable to communicate with Katerina.”

 

Dylan sat up and whined, butting my dragon foot with his nose. “Ah, weel, a pretty fix yer in, then, my fine furry friend.” Dylan huffed and stretched at my feet with his nose between his paws. “She also said your woman believes you are no longer lupus inside, but a man.”

 

“Woof!” Dylan spun three times in a circle and jumped into the air, staring with a toothy grin that fairly shouted Yes. “Ach, weel then don’t give up. You and Lang are the most impatient charges I’ve even had the responsibility of overseeing. If you get run over or shot there’s no chance at all that you’ll enjoy your woman again in your man form, aye? And, I know you can’t help yerself, but when a bitch in heat flirts with ya, maybe you should try stayin’ inside for a while. Who knows what could happen if you stop following your hormones?”

 

I’d heard descriptions of the investigator’s intense persona. He would have been a master at intimidation, though this was the first time I’d seen even a hint of it having only known Dylan as a jokester under the influence of the Para-moon. Seeming a wee bit irritated he kept his eyes locked on mine. Drakos! He had balls to look at a dragon like that.

 

His head whipped to the side as a loud cry came from the other end of the road. A tenth of a mile away a starlit giraffe was practicing his broad jump in the moonlight. I shook my head, Jack. “He’s bright, aye?”

 

Dylan shook, sitting down to watch the show, further confirming what I suspected about him. For a half hour we sat watching the dragon make one futile attempt after another to take flight. “Ach, I guess I’m g’win to have to take him for a ride and drop him from about twenty-thousand feet—my version of sink or swim, aye? Sometimes it takes drastic measures, wolf.”

 

Dylan gave a short whine. Good, it wouldna hurt the wolf to wonder if there was some of this psychological strategy coming his way sometime soon. He rose, whining incessantly, looking up at the rising moon. “Where are you g’win, my friend?”

 

The wolf’s head turned back in my direction as he whined again. “Go on back to your lassie’s little funeral hearse.” He yipped, spread his front feet in a playful stance then wagged his tail and took off.

 

One down, one to go. Children. Things were moving along. I was only to guide and protect, not command.

 

Broken Wings EBOOK 06252016 copy

 

Buy Links:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com//dp/B01GK2MOB4

 

Amazon UK  https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/uk/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

 

Amazon CA https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/ca/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

 

All Romance https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-takethesebrokenwings-2140770-140.html

 

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/take-these-broken-wings-2

 

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/take-these-broken-wings/id1118777289?mt=11

 

Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940153209159

 

Page Foundry  http://www.inktera.com/store/title/d4e2e093-1630-4de2-a54c-62861bf58f41

 

Scribd  http://www.scribd.com/book/313905436

 

Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Biography:

Love happens…when you least expect it. So does the weather. So magic in one form or another, and storms, are at the heart of most Livia Quinn books. A DC native who lives on the bayou in Louisiana, Livia has stored up a wealth of quirky stories from her jobs as a mail lady, sales person, plant manager and small business owner that she’s anxious to share with her readers. Visit her new website https://liviaquinn.com

 

Social Media Links:

Blog: liviaquinnwrites.blogspot.com

 

Email liviaquinnwrites@gmail.com  

 

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

 

Linkedin http://bit.ly/2dbYAP2

 

Instagram http://instagram.com/liviaquinnauthor

 

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

 

Author Central http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00KPDXXE2

 

potl-reads-2

We’re celebrating books and authors all October on the POTL Blog. Follow #POTLReads on Twitter to not miss our recommendations and to offer your own! Spread the Word! 

He’s a What?! Writing Your Characters Into a Corner by @LiviaQuinn #amwriting #guestpost #IARTG


hes-a-what-livia-quinn-gues-post-header

But I thought the problem was… 

I listened to an author speak a couple years ago at a workshop. She said, “Write yourself into a corner.” My first thought was, “I couldn’t do that. What if I couldn’t get my characters out of the hole I’d put them in.” Recently I realized that I’ve been doing just that unconsciously, or my characters have, for several books now. For a writer, it’s a very scary place to be but if I want my readers to be surprised I must be surprised as well.

In Eve of Chaos I brought the heroine and several characters to the brink of death, not knowing what was going to happen. Blame it on the Moon was the most terrified I’ve been since I’ve been writing. And yet, I’ve had readers tell me it was their favorite book.

When Destiny was overrun by creatures leaving our hero, a mere-mortal, to fight them, save the town and the woman he loves I had no friggin’ idea how a human was supposed to win over enemy zombies, flying heads, and other variants much less how to save the lives of my main characters who were suffering from the effects of the Para-moon. I usually let the characters lead me to solutions but at the end of Blame it on the Moon, Jack was blindsided with a change that no one saw coming—except me. Unfortunately, even that didn’t go as planned.

As book 5, Take These Broken Wings began I thought I knew what Jack’s problem was. But as the story progressed Jack was no closer to a solution until we got to the climax and suddenly events unfolded. I remember emailing my writer friends wide-eyed with wonder, “You’ll never guess what happened to Jack!” In Jack’s words, “To say I was surprised about the latest revelations would be like saying Wolverine’s fingernails were long enough for a manicure.”

 

The Destiny series could be likened to a Paranormal soap opera, similar to Charlaine Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse series or the world of Darynda Jones. Jack and Tempe’s Paramortal arc—their coming of age—is finally complete with book 5 but their story and Destiny’s continues. So here I am again after the events that happened at the end of Take These Broken Wings, thinking, “Zeus’ Rechargeable Bolts! now what?” A mysterious stranger has shown up in Destiny and his presence is certain to bring turmoil. Life is much more interesting when you don’t know what’s coming down the pike don’t you think? Its always nerve-wracking not knowing where my characters will lead me but I’m confident we’ll work through the challenges. What a ride!

 

Broken Wings EBOOK 06252016 copy

 

Title: Take These Broken Wings (Destiny Paramortals #5)

Author: Livia Quinn

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Southern Urban Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

Welcome to Mayberry, or should I say Middle Earth?

 

I’m Jack Lang, the Sheriff of Destiny, Louisiana. After my sexy redheaded mail lady zapped me, this seemingly normal small town turned into a never-ending stream of supernaturals – fae, dragons, vampires, djinn—not to mention some plain ol’ kooks. Ironically, I was all set to accept the dark side when I discovered the secret in my own DNA and, well, to say I was in shock would be like saying Wolverine’s fingernails were long enough for a manicure.

 

There’s one thing that can get me back on the job – a murder investigation. But I’ll also have to deal with supernatural hitmen, dragon hunters and being in the doghouse with my girlfriend. If I don’t get a handle on “My new life” before long, I’m going to lose the respect of the Paramortals, not to mention the woman I love.  Maybe I should just holler uncle now. Things can always get worse.

 

After all, this is Destiny, and ludicrous is its middle name.

 

Book 5 is the completion of Jack and Tempe’s Paramortal arc, an epiphany of sorts, but the story continues. If you enjoy the Paranormal Urban Fantasy Cozy worlds of Kristen Painter, Darynda Jones or Molly Harper, try the Destiny Paramortals series.

 

 

Excerpt:

Tempe’s father, Dutch finds his son, River, in the supernatural watering hole…

 

Dutch

My eyes narrowed and I rose at the mention of my ancient family name.

 

River’s eyes flared red, a warning, and he grated, “Who are you?”

 

The being in front of him was taller and wider than River, closer to my size and was covered in a flimsy grey cloak that swirled in a non-existent breeze. Ah, a weather fae, I determined at once. A hooked beak poked out from under the gray cowl and talons where the fingers should have been held the hood in place. The pungent foul odor identified it as a harpy, a vengeful lot that often traveled in groups though no one stood with this one.

 

The hole in the center of his “face” sounded like a washing machine as it pushed air in and out. At his hip a blue sword stuck out from under the layers. Not good. Weapons were supposed to be surrendered at the door except under certain extenuating circumstances. I stayed where I was, for the moment.

 

Thick cottony lips opened, the words came through its hole of a mouth, like it had been dredged up from the depths of the Isle. “I am Lord of the Wind. I’m here to reclaim my power from your family.”

 

Well, that’s a new twist. Millenia ago, harpies had been stripped of their power over hurricanes and strong storms, but it had nothing to do with my family, I thought as he drew the sword from the sheath with a clang and pointed it at one of the entrances. A stout gust entered the room. He’d used the sword to command his magic, like a wand.

 

River stood with one arm on the counter, not even jostled by the stiff wind, though others were struggling to stand. I stepped toward River. The creature’s head turned in my direction and a voice like a grating debris-filled torrent rasped, “You need your daddyyy to fight your battlllesss?” Tables rolled to the floor around us, and I sensed the harpy was frustrated that he’d been unable to budge us. River was steady as a granite mountain and… he was growing.

 

River crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Listen, Lord Blowhard. Not only don’t I need my father, but it’ll take a more than one of your impotent wind farts to take down a member of our family. My sister could take you in her sleep.”

 

The being bristled and the wind increased at River’s words. I stepped forward, addressing him. “Who told you we have your power?”

 

The harpy’s sparring partner approached and whispered into his ear, sending a glance toward the corner where another hooded figure sat at a table against the wall. His boss? Or just an interested party trying to prevent the fae from experiencing the fate of Morpheus?

 

The wind picked up under the blowhard’s gray rags and his mouth closed in a disgruntled line, but he lowered his sword and backed away, not releasing my gaze until he reached the table. Then pointing the sword one last time at River, he said, “We will finisshhh this later at a time of myyy choosssing.”

 

With a scraping of chairs, the so called Lord and his sparring partner cautiously backed out of the Moat, trying to save face, though Gods truth, it made them look like cowards.

 

River’s reaction was even worse. “What’s wrong with now?” he roared. Yes, he was itching for a fight, his voice shaking with rage, the first emotion I’d heard from him in weeks. Any other time I might think that was good but though he appeared to be in control, I felt the building energy he held under tight rein. What would it take for him to snap? I put my hand on his arm to bring him back to himself. He shrugged it off and stomped back to the bar.

 

My spine tingled a warning and I scanned the room to see where the threat was coming from. There in the corner, lounging against the wall near the fighters’ table was a black hooded figure. I felt his gaze though the shadow from his cowl disguised his features. His black-gloved hand moved across his chest and I caught the glimmer of something between the folds.

 

His mouth turned up in an evil grin and he drew the material closed but not before I got a brief look at the necklace hanging against his chest with a dragon’s eye in the center. I steeled myself not to react as he rose and sauntered out.

 

What was a dragon hunter doing in the Moat of Morpheus.

 

Buy Here:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com//dp/B01GK2MOB4

Amazon UK  https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/uk/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

Amazon CA https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/ca/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

All Romance https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-takethesebrokenwings-2140770-140.html

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/take-these-broken-wings-2

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/take-these-broken-wings/id1118777289?mt=11

Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940153209159

Page Foundry  http://www.inktera.com/store/title/d4e2e093-1630-4de2-a54c-62861bf58f41

Scribd  http://www.scribd.com/book/313905436

 

Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Biography:

Love happens…when you least expect it. So does the weather. So magic in one form or another, and storms, are at the heart of most Livia Quinn books. A DC native who lives on the bayou in Louisiana, Livia has stored up a wealth of quirky stories from her jobs as a mail lady, sales person, plant manager and small business owner that she’s anxious to share with her readers. Visit her soon on her new website https://www.liviaquinn.com

 

Social Media Links:

Blog: https://liviaquinnwrites.blogspot.com

Email liviaquinnwrites@gmail.com

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

Linkedin http://bit.ly/2dbYAP2

Instagram http://instagram.com/liviaquinnauthor

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

Author Central http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00KPDXXE2

 

potl-reads-2

We’re celebrating books and authors all October on the POTL Blog. Follow #POTLReads on Twitter to not miss our recommendations and to offer your own! Spread the Word! 

Take These Broken Wings by @LiviaQuinn #bookreview #FridayReads #POTLReads


Broken Wings EBOOK 06252016 copy

 

Title: Take These Broken Wings (Destiny Paramortals #5)

Author: Livia Quinn

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Southern Urban Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

Welcome to Mayberry, or should I say Middle Earth?

 

I’m Jack Lang, the Sheriff of Destiny, Louisiana. After my sexy redheaded mail lady zapped me, this seemingly normal small town turned into a never-ending stream of supernaturals – fae, dragons, vampires, djinn—not to mention some plain ol’ kooks. Ironically, I was all set to accept the dark side when I discovered the secret in my own DNA and, well, to say I was in shock would be like saying Wolverine’s fingernails were long enough for a manicure.

 

There’s one thing that can get me back on the job – a murder investigation. But I’ll also have to deal with supernatural hitmen, dragon hunters and being in the doghouse with my girlfriend. If I don’t get a handle on “My new life” before long, I’m going to lose the respect of the Paramortals, not to mention the woman I love.  Maybe I should just holler uncle now. Things can always get worse.

 

After all, this is Destiny, and ludicrous is its middle name.

 

Book 5 is the completion of Jack and Tempe’s Paramortal arc, an epiphany of sorts, but the story continues. If you enjoy the Paranormal Urban Fantasy Cozy worlds of Kristen Painter, Darynda Jones or Molly Harper, try the Destiny Paramortals series.

 

My Review:

My favorite paramortals are back and there’s been some changes since we last left Destiny. Jack’s a dragon (who can’t fly and shift back easily to human form), Tempe’s trying to take care of everyone except herself, Montana and Connor are deeply in love, Kat struggling to come to grips with her feelings for Dylan, Dylan is still in wolf form and there’s a murder to solve. Life in Destiny is never dull, just ask Jack the shifting dragon don’t-let-the-humans-see-me-naked sheriff.

 

Jack’s having trouble adjusting to his new life as a dragon and the worst of it is his expectations about flying. What good is a dragon that can’t fly? He’s wallowing in self-pity and pushing those he loves (hello Tempe) away. Connor, the dragon, tries to be there for Jack but there’s some things Jack needs to face alone.

 

Meanwhile, there’s paramortal assassins on the loose as well as dragon hunters. But when Tempe is confronted by a family member she loves, she’s frightened and doesn’t know what to do. She can’t rely on Jack to be her strength and her best friend, Montana, is in a committed loving relationship with her own dragon (which only makes Tempe jealous), so who can she trust?

 

There’s a lot of storylines going on in this book and I loved every one of them. Quinn’s humor is on fire in this installment and I laughed my way through the book. The conflict between Jack and Tempe was front and center yet it didn’t overshadow the other characters. I wished there was more of Jack and Tempe but the other storylines made up for my disappointment.

 

I’ve grown to love these characters and the ending made my hopeless romantic heart swoon. No cliff-hanger here but I’m left wondering who the hooded being is and what’s going to happen next.

 

Favorite Character:

Kat (Katerina). She’s been a minor character thus far and I loved discovering more about her. She’s shy and has a jaded past but when she and Dylan got together during the Paramoon, it felt right. But then Dylan turned into a big black wolf and couldn’t change back. Now, they’re together but not “together” intimately. It’s tough being a shifter and your mate can’t shift back to human. What’s a woman to do? Oh wait, Quinn’s got that covered and you’ll love it.

 

Favorite Quote:

“Jack took Dan’s hand and said only, ‘I’m back’. A fortuitous word choice. Did he mean back in town, back to work, or that my Jack was back? I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case… yet.”

 

My Rating:  4.5 stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com//dp/B01GK2MOB4

Amazon UK  https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/uk/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

Amazon CA https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/ca/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

All Romance https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-takethesebrokenwings-2140770-140.html

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/take-these-broken-wings-2

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/take-these-broken-wings/id1118777289?mt=11

Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940153209159

Page Foundry  http://www.inktera.com/store/title/d4e2e093-1630-4de2-a54c-62861bf58f41

Scribd  http://www.scribd.com/book/313905436

 

Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Biography:

Love happens…when you least expect it. So does the weather. So magic in one form or another, and storms, are at the heart of most Livia Quinn books. A DC native who lives on the bayou in Louisiana, Livia has stored up a wealth of quirky stories from her jobs as a mail lady, sales person, plant manager and small business owner that she’s anxious to share with her readers. Visit her soon on her new website https://www.liviaquinn.com

 

Social Media Links:

Blog: liviaquinnwrites.blogspot.com

Email liviaquinnwrites@gmail.com

Website: http://liviaquinn.com

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

Twitter    http://twitter.com/liviaquinn

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/liviaquinn

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8286639.Livia_Quinn

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

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/+LiviaQuinn

Linkedin http://bit.ly/2dbYAP2

Instagram http://instagram.com/liviaquinnauthor

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

Author Central http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00KPDXXE2

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

 

potl-reads-2

We’re celebrating books and authors all October on the POTL Blog. Follow #POTLReads on Twitter to not miss our recommendations and to offer your own! Spread the Word! 

 

Take These Broken Wings by @LiviaQuinn is Available Now! #POTLReads #ASMSG #IARTG


Broken Wings EBOOK 06252016 copy

 

Title:    Take These Broken Wings

Author:  Livia Quinn

Genre:  Southern Paranormal Cozy

 

Book Blurb:

Welcome to Mayberry, or should I say Middle Earth?

 

I’m Jack Lang, the Sheriff of Destiny, Louisiana. After my sexy redheaded mail lady zapped me, this seemingly normal small town turned into a never-ending stream of supernaturals – fae, dragons, vampires, djinn—not to mention some plain ol’ kooks. Ironically, I was all set to accept the dark side when I discovered the secret in my own DNA and, well, to say I was in shock would be like saying Wolverine’s fingernails were long enough for a manicure.

 

There’s one thing that can get me back on the job – a murder investigation. But I’ll also have to deal with supernatural hitmen, dragon hunters and being in the doghouse with my girlfriend. If I don’t get a handle on “My new life” before long, I’m going to lose the respect of the Paramortals, not to mention the woman I love.  Maybe I should just holler uncle now. Things can always get worse.

 

After all, this is Destiny, and ludicrous is its middle name.

 

Book 5 is the completion of Jack and Tempe’s Paramortal arc, an epiphany of sorts, but the story continues. If you enjoy the Paranormal Urban Fantasy Cozy worlds of Kristen Painter, Darynda Jones or Molly Harper, try the Destiny Paramortals series.

 

Excerpt:

Jack watched, sunglasses hiding his expression as Montana and her partner, Rafe, unloaded the gurney from the back of the truck. A slender older man with wire rims stepped out and grabbed a black bag from inside. He took stock of his surroundings before walking toward us. It was Dan Thorpe, the ME who had worked with Jack last spring, examining and testing several supernaturals, including Jack’s ex.

He stopped when he reached us and stuck out his hand. “Jack. It’s good to see you. I heard you were out of town at some kind of school.” The story we’d circulated round town to keep it simple.

Jack took Dan’s hand and said only, “I’m back.” A fortuitous word choice. Did he mean back in town, back to work, or that my Jack was back? I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case… yet.

“Where’s the deceased?” The ME asked.

Jack made a half turn and pointed at the large puddle to his left created by his big dragon foot. We knew this but to Dan it looked like just another pool of backwater created from the recent rains. He knelt by the puddle working his way toward the pieces of one exposed bone. After examining them for several minutes, he straightened, “Damn. It looks like someone ran over them with a bulldozer.”

Jack asked, “Postmortem?” I laughed covering it with a fake cough receiving a glare from Jack. “Show some respect for the victim, Ms. Pomeroy.” Zeus, he was good. I glimpsed a touch of humor in his eyes.

Dan said, “Given the condition of the remains, and all this backwater, I’m going to need more equipment and different tools.”

“What equipment do you need exactly?”

Dan stroked his jaw and made a list, “A pump to displace the water away from this area for probably fifty feet. We’ll start with that. Maybe we’ll get lucky and all the evidence will be contained here. I have to go back to my office and get some suitable clothing, waders and tools.”

Rafe said, “I’ll run you back to town.”

Jack said, “Dan, if you’ll cordon off the perimeter where you want it, I think I’ve got a pump in my car.” Then his eyes cut to me. He wasn’t serious…

“Where is your car?” asked Dan.

“Uh… down the levee a piece. Tempe and I were walking when we spotted that bone near the bank.”

That was such a lie but the humans must be protected at all costs. It was part of the Paramortal banner—Don’t let the mere-mortals see your magic! If I wasn’t mistaken, I was fixin’ to be called upon for some moisture manipulation.

Rafe made a u-turn down the side of the levee and left. We waited until the sound of the truck’s engine could barely be heard. Conor didn’t bother to remain aloof when it was just the four of us. He took Montana in his arms not caring whether we watched or not and gave her a deep ardent kiss as if he hadn’t seen her in days. Not since their morning tea at least. I cast a glance at Jack, sadness a heavy weight in my chest.

Jack crooked his finger at me. It was too much to hope that he wanted to lay some of the same action on me. Sure enough, he walked about twenty feet the other side of the body and said, “Can you clear this water out of here?”

My brows rose and I put my hands on my hips. Really? Not even a Please, Tempe? “Do I look like a bilge pump to you?”

He did laugh then, but I didn’t see the humor. Suddenly I was furious. I considered refusing. I should, I really should and I would. Next time. But the fact that he was impatient and wanted to get started investigating this tragedy was a step in the right direction. As stubborn and as bossy as he could be, I welcomed that.

“I might help you out. This one time,” I added narrowing my eyes at him. “But you’ll owe me.”

I could almost see his dragon face as those silvery eyes flashed. “Fine. Do it. Just try not to disturb the bones.”

“Says the man—the dragon—who stomped on the evidence with his big clumsy feet,” I retorted.

“Okay. Quid pro quo. Now what are you going to do—spin up a whirlpool, tornado, inhale the water and spit it out somewhere else?”

I gasped, “Are you kidding me? That’s slimy nasty, foul backwater. I suggest you hold onto that tree, or do your dragon thing.” I closed my eyes. Menori was happy. Unlike countless times before when I didn’t know what would happen and needed emotion to even stir a breeze or zap a door lock, she was part of me now. We worked in sync.

I called the wind, feeling the breeze across my face first as it gathered and plastered my clothes to my body. The distant wail announced its approach. Sometimes people don’t realize what they’re hearing, until it’s gotten a good head of steam. It’s as powerful as any force in the universe.

We didn’t need a straight-line wind for this simple job, but I figured it was the easiest to explain. This time of year they came out of nowhere. I held my hand out toward the water and guided the wide swath of wind toward the slew, over the berm and out toward the main channel of the river.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jack called. My eyes popped open again and I saw him clinging to the only tree around for dear life.

I shut off my power and asked exasperated, “Why didn’t you shift?” His hat was gone and his hair stuck up everywhere. He released the tree straightening his shirt and nodded past me with a raise of his eyebrow.

Zeus’ hand-me-down knickers! I made a great bilge pump if I did say so myself. The water was gone from the puddle, which was clearly dry. Hmm, maybe I went a bit too far. The ground was dry as well. This would be tricky to explain to Dan.

With my fists propped on my hips I turned to Jack, my expression all innocent-like, “Well, weather is known for being unpredictable.”

He rolled his eyes, “Clearly your weather is.”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com//dp/B01GK2MOB4

Amazon UK  https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/uk/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

Amazon CA https://kdp.amazon.com/amazon-dp-action/ca/bookshelf.marketplacelink/B01GK2MOB4

All Romance https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-takethesebrokenwings-2140770-140.html

Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/take-these-broken-wings-2

Itunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/take-these-broken-wings/id1118777289?mt=11

Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940153209159

Page Foundry  http://www.inktera.com/store/title/d4e2e093-1630-4de2-a54c-62861bf58f41

Scribd  http://www.scribd.com/book/313905436

 

Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Biography:

Love happens…when you least expect it. So does the weather. So magic in one form or another, and storms, are at the heart of most Livia Quinn books. A DC native who lives on the bayou in Louisiana, Livia has stored up a wealth of quirky stories from her jobs as a mail lady, sales person, plant manager and small business owner that she’s anxious to share with her readers. Visit her soon on her new website https://www.liviaquinn.com

 

Social Media Links:

Blog: liviaquinnwrites.blogspot.com

Email liviaquinnwrites@gmail.com

Website: http://liviaquinn.com

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

Twitter    http://twitter.com/liviaquinn

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/liviaquinn

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8286639.Livia_Quinn

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

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/+LiviaQuinn

Linkedin http://bit.ly/2dbYAP2

Instagram http://instagram.com/liviaquinnauthor

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

Author Central http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00KPDXXE2

 

potl-reads-2

We’re celebrating books and authors all October on the POTL Blog. Follow #POTLReads on Twitter to not miss our recommendations and to offer your own! Spread the Word! 

Hold Onto Your Dream: Advice from Author @LiviaQuinn #amwriting #giveaway #BatonRouge


Broken Wings EBOOK 06252016 copy

 

My little seasonal restaurant kept me hopping this year. I wouldn’t complain except it left me so little time and energy to work on my new book, Take These Broken Wings. But with summer winding down, I finally made it out to the Quinn den to work on Wings.

 

Getting things back in order, I noticed my calendar was stuck on July. For a reason…

 

Original dream

 

“HOLD ON to your original dream!”

The two key parts of this quote were why I stood transfixed in front of that calendar for several long seconds. First, holding on to the dream takes perseverance and dedication, as you learn the skills needed. And second, it’s easy to forget as we confront the challenges on the journey how passionate we were about making that goal a reality. It’s good to remind ourselves of that desire.

 

In June 2005 I was laid off. It was a real bummer especially since I’d just bought a new car but I decided to take the summer to try to get my head straight and wind down from six years of working eighty-hour weeks. I sat by the bayou handwriting stories that had been in my head for years. What an escape…

 

Then came Katrina. I left Louisiana to work in D.C. and Atlanta (more eighty-hour weeks) so I could pay the bills and six months later I was back home writing. The first time I decided to enter a contest was 2007 and I got 2nd place for Only the Heart Remembers in romantic suspense. I read later on the agent/judge’s website, “Send me your manuscript, but please no ‘amnesia in the storm’ stories”. Good thing I didn’t read that before I entered the contest. J Fear can be a huge de-motivator. It can annihilate your dreams.

 

From that contest, I received an “I almost bought this but it’s not quite right for us” letter from Harlequin and was asked to send two versions of it to another editor at a conference. After being pulled in so many different directions I began to doubt myself, put the manuscript aside and moved on. But after publishing my Destiny Paramortals and Storm Lake East series, I decided to take a chance, revisit this book, retitle it and bring it to my readers.

 

Storm Warning is the fulfillment of that the original dream, published ten years after it was written. There’s so much of me in it, my fascination with storms, the premonitions (Brenna’s “curse”), the community of characters I’ve loved for so long. My hero and his lady have a magical connection but I don’t want to give it away so I’ll just say, there are plenty of surprises.

 

In chronological order, Storm Warning is third in the Storm Lake East Series, after Her First Knight, and before Merry Christmas, Baby where you meet characters from all three books and upcoming characters from my next book, coming this winter. I sure hope you love the characters in Storm Warning as much as I do.

 

For this week only, Storm Warning is $1.99 to celebrate its ten-year anniversary.

 

Want a chance to win the full ebook set of Storm Lake East books in epub or mobi? Simply retweet this link to your followers and come back here to post your tweet in the comment box. (Books will be delivered via email.)

 

Did you have an original dream? Have you given up on it or are you still pursuing it? Why not clip this little calendar pic to your computer or frig to remind you to never give up?

SW ad button

 

Blurb:

You’ve killed him, Bad Brenna taunted. Brenna looked down the steps at the man lying motionless in the tropical downpour. I told you that silly phobia would get you in trouble if you didn’t get a grip.

 

Brenna knew she was right, knew it was exactly why Bad Brenna existed, to help her cope with the trauma that had turned her into a scared rabbit whenever lightning was in the forecast. But her anxiety over the approaching storm had been magnified by yet another premonition. Typically, it meant someone was about to die. Had she been the means, this time, of fulfilling her own prophecy? As usual, there were no clear answers. She needed to start trusting her sixth sense if she was ever going to get rid of Bad Brenna.

 

But for now, she had an unconscious burglar on her hands…

 

 

Excerpt:

“Who are you?” he demanded, looked down at her with suspicious eyes.

Her eyes widened with consternation. “Oh, my God. You have amnesia. You don’t know who you are.”

“No, damn it. I know exactly who I am.” His words were slurred. “What I don’t know is who you are and why my head feels like it’s about to implode.”

He swayed, staggered backward. It didn’t take precognitive abilities to see it coming. She grabbed for him, wedging herself behind him to prevent yet another concussion. Now, hadn’t she known what would happen next?

Suddenly, he was toppling backward, but at the last minute he flipped her over to take the brunt of the contact with the hard floor himself. She felt the air leave him followed by a startled oomph as she landed on top of him—hard.

Brenna blew the hair out of her eyes. “Well. I guess chivalry isn’t dead. I’ll bet that hurt.” She rubbed her knee as he threw an arm over his face and groaned. She was going to succeed in killing him if she didn’t get him into the bedroom.

He swore again, lavishly, and this time her grandfather who’d spent thirty years in the Navy saluted from his grave. For a couple long seconds, he floundered like a beached octopus legs kicking and arms moving until he finally righted himself. Brenna knelt next to him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

He flinched. “Leave me alone. Are you trying to kill me?” His left hand cradled his temple.

“I’ll have you know I was trying to break your fall. You were going down like a Redwood in the Sequoia National Forest.”

He shook his head, “Silly woman, if I’d landed on you, you’d have been hurt.”

Another sharp crack of thunder made Brenna flinch. When the light flickered on those amber eyes amidst a mask of blood and bruises, she shivered. Bad Brenna was thinking, He’d make a nice Christmas present. Her eyes traveled down the contours of his body. Rational, sane, levelheaded Brenna knew this might turn into her worst nightmare.

How could she even think of sex at a time like this? Her house was a wreck. The power was out. Handsome stranger or naked burglar or hunky naked burglar—however she chose to think of him, the bottom line was she didn’t know who he was or how she was going to get him on his feet.

It couldn’t get any worse.

“Shit. My head hurts, and I have to piss,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. What a gentleman.

He put his hands on the floor, gathering the strength to rise. He swayed like a rickety saw horse on all fours, his bicep muscles quivering, face turning a sickly green as his features contorted.

“Oh, no.” She recognized that look.

“No, no, wait.” She darted for the trashcan.

Too late. He threw up, and her freshly waxed hardwood floor was covered with a stinking, steaming, slippery pile of vomit.

Ick.”

She glimpsed of his eyes rolling up, and just as she got a hand on one a powerful forearm, he passed out. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to keep his shoulder from grazing the oozing pile of muck when he landed.

A loud boom shook the cabin.

Brenna looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, quit, will you?”

 

Click the retailer for link to Storm Warning:

Ibooks

Amazon

Kobo

Nook

ARe 

Paperback

Goodreads

Inkterra

Page Foundry

 

 

Note: Book 5 in the Destiny Paramortals, Take These Broken Wings is available for preorder now on all retailers for October 2nd release.

 

Social Media Links:

Website http://liviaquinn.com

Facebook www.facebook.com/liviaquinnwrites

Twitter www.twitter.com/liviaquinn

Pinterest www.pinterest.com/liviaquinn

 

Sign up for my newsletter  http://eepurl.com/W94bb

 

Goodreads  http://bit.ly/1TfBMe9

All book links http://liviaquinn.com/books.html

 

Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Biography:

Livia Quinn is a DC native who lives and writes on the Louisiana bayou. She’s stored up plenty of quirky tales from her jobs as mail lady, plant manager, entertainer and business owner to share with her readers. Visit Storm Lake, where anything can happen!

 

She’s including some links you can go to if you’d like to help South Louisiana residents who were hit hard in the recent 500-year flood. 80,000 families were affected!

 

Volunteer Louisiana (state website)

Greater Baton Rouge Food Bank

United Way — Baton Rouge

Salvation Army — Baton Rouge

Society of St. Vincent de Paul — Council of Baton Rouge

Capital Area Animal Welfare Society

Louisiana Association of Educators (Flood Relief Fund)

 

EXCLUSIVE COVER REVEAL: Take These Broken Wings by @LiviaQuinn #ASMSG #IARTG #MFRWAuthor


 

Broken Wings EBOOK 06252016 copy

 

Title: Take These Broken Wings, Book 5 in the Destiny Paramortals

Author: Livia Quinn

Genre: Paranormal Romance

 

 

Blurb:

Jack Lang knows first hand about Destiny’s secrets. Turns out he was one of them. On Mardi Gras eve he and his unlikely band of heroes defeated some particularly nasty creatures intent on taking advantage of the Paramortals’ vulnerability during the Chaos. Jack figured they called it Chaos because the word “Armageddon” was already taken. Destiny survived with the help of their dragon and some special friends, then Jack received the biggest shock of his life. And that was saying a lot.

 

He’d chosen this town the year before for the normalcy and safety it could provide his teenager after a life of bedlam with Jordie’s mother. He’d been looking for Mayberry. Instead he’d found, not a town, but a world full of magical beings, odd occurrences, and scary creatures. There’d been one shock after another and yet, instead of leaving and taking Jordie somewhere “safe” … he’d stayed.

 

Now he suspected he’d felt the pull of this special place long before he’d known it existed. But that hadn’t been the only reason. It had all begun the first time he’d seen Tempest Pomeroy. That was when his world had turned upside down—along with half the town. He’d surprised himself with his acceptance of the supernatural. He’d even almost accepted this latest blow, but that had been before he found out he no longer belonged anywhere.

 

Not with humans, and not among supernaturals. Something had gone haywire in his family DNA.

 

Now he’d abandoned the women in his life, his responsibilities, everything except for the need to quench the gnawing hunger in his gut and this compulsion to jump off the highest levees in the parish. And he was only sorry there were no mountains in Louisiana.

 

 

 

Excerpt:

Tempe

 

“Aiy-yy…”

 

The long cry intensified, as it grew closer. Then a bright silver streak whizzed by me, the reason for the sound suddenly apparent.

 

I watched my boyfriend, in silver dragon form, run toward the top of the levee at full speed—actually more like like a clumsy lope—and leap, sun sparkling like diamonds from his crystalline scales before he disappeared from sight. The sound cutoff abruptly followed by a huge splash. Zeus’ missing molars!

 

I made it to the crown of the levee just in time to watch Jack plummet, wings flapping furiously—to no avail—into the river below. “Below” wasn’t that far and “river” was too generous a word for the swampy backwater where he now sat, covered in duck weed and gumbo looking like a dejected dragon on a Saturday morning TV show. And tired. Poor baby.

 

His handsome dragon face looked up at me, beautiful silver green eyes revealing more than a little distress. I’d thought he could shift, but for some reason he didn’t. Instead he pushed up out of the muck, his enormous backside making a loud wet swhuuuck as the gumbo released its hold.

 

I stood out of the line of fire while he gave a mighty shake and great globs of slimy mud flew in all directions, leaving his scales sparkly and shiny once again. At least he was getting a grasp of some aspects of his change, or it was instinct. His powerful hind legs lifted from the swampy water and one step at a time he walked toward me, then hopped onto the bank. The ground quaked. I widened my stance to keep from falling over. From my position on the levee I was nearly eye level with him.

 

“No luck, huh?” I asked.

 

He opened his mouth to speak and remembered he wasn’t able to, yet. Our dragon friend, Conor, thought speaking in his shifted form would come in time. Apparently, nothing was certain. Jack shook his crystal-bright head and rainbows bounced off the water.

 

“That sucks,” I said, shading my eyes. He glared at me and I shrugged. “Sorry, no pun intended.”

 

He turned away. A trudging dragon was a sorry sight. All of his frustration and uncertainty was apparent in the slump of his massive dragon shoulders, in the way his wings dropped to his sides, and in the ground-shaking thump of his feet. For a second I thought about having a t-shirt made for him with MY BUTT IS DRAGIN’ emblazoned on the front. I’m really not that mean, just as frustrated as my man.

 

“Jack. Wait.” I ran down the levee after him as he plodded, a fatalistic air to his stride. Boom…thud, boom…thud.

 

Jack’s problem, the disappointment that was eating at him after the initial hope that had helped him come to terms with his dragonness, was that he couldn’t fly. He simply could not believe that a former Navy jet pilot-turned-dragon would not be a flying dragon. And obviously, it wasn’t for lack of trying.

 

I’ll never forget the first time I saw him in his backyard under the moonlight looking alternately disconcerted and elated. He’d denied the elated part right off, because it simply wouldn’t do to admit that as much as he wanted to fly again, admitting to the desire to fly as a dragon would just not do. First, he had to admit he was a dragon. Maybe I could find him a Dragons Anonymous meeting. Jack’s problem is denial. He’s old hands with the emotion.

 

I watched his steady progress toward the woods. He’d apparently given up for the day. The sun was rising and humans would be about. I wished he’d return to his job as sheriff of Destiny. That and his parental responsibilities would keep him grounded.

 

Oh, Zeus, another pun.

 

 

Preorder Wings Today:

Amazon  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01GK2MOB4  

 

iBooks     https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/take-these-broken-wings/id1118777289

 

Nook       http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940153209159   

 

Kobo       https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/take-these-broken-wings-2

 

 Livia Quinn Head Shot_M9A0603 square sml copy

 

Author Bio:

A DC native, Livia Quinn moved to the wilds of stormy Louisiana, and with a lifelong fascination (read that: phobia) of lightning, it was only natural that it would play a big part in her world. Her paranormal books take place on the west end of Storm Lake and contemporaries to the east. But that doesn’t mean there’s no magic. What would life be like without a little magic?

 

Sign up for Livia’s newsletter at http://eepurl.com/W94bb to be included in contests and news

 

Livia’s Author Central page http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00KPDXXE2

 

 

Social Media Links:

Email liviaquinnwrites@gmail.com

Website: http://liviaquinn.com

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

Twitter    http://twitter.com/liviaquinn    look for @LiviaQuinn

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/liviaquinn

Independent Author Network http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/livia-quinn.html

TRR http://www.theromancereviews.com/mypageprofile.php?location=100003242586901