Sky Purington's Blog, page 43

For Those Who Have Loved and Lost. How a Dragonfly Healed Me.

Welcome. I apologize, this is a rather personal post but one I had to share.
My Dad died nearly a year ago on July 29th, 2011.
It’s hard to believe a year went by so fast. I suppose, however, I’ve been in a fog through most of it. It’s no easy thing losing a parent. A father.
For all I thought long and hard about what to write in this post, there aren’t enough words. At least not the ones that sum it all up. 'All of it' being a lifetime of memories with an amazing man. And let me tell you, I’m sitting here now, totally blank, not sure what to write. One thing I can say is that he loved and loved well. Certain people came into his life later and I know he poured his heart into getting to know them better, the best way he knew how. I know he would want them to be happy always.
So now I'm writing a blog post about him and it's terribly hard. Why? Well, it’s an unimaginable thing to try to write on a blog about your feelings when you feel so strongly. 
The past year has been one of new beginnings. I have to look at it that way... as new beginnings. Because that's what it is when your entire life changes in a single moment, for better or worse.
I still remember those final moments in the ICU last year. Me, mom and my sister, Debbie, were there every day for two weeks. Dad faught the worst type of Sepsis poisoning as a result of chemo and pulled through. He'd had less than a 10% chance of survival. But he pulled through.
We got one more wonderful day with him. We were given the chance to say how much we loved one another. It was a gift. 
Regrettably, lung cancer victims don't come off the breathing incubator well. So he faught a hell of a battle only to lose. But we were all holding hands when he passed.
Life changed after that.
It’s strange going from the being the daughter of a couple who has been together for forty years to being the daughter of a mom who is totally broken and alone. Or at least that’s how it seemed at first. But my entire family has pulled together and through love and a strong belief in God, we’re slowly mending.

At Dad’s funeral last year an interesting thing happened. The navy officers were performing Taps when a fleet of mammoth Dragonflies started to swarm around not only Dad’s coffin but all in attendance. They were nearly the size of hummingbirds! It was the most amazing experience I think anyone there had ever witnessed. They stayed and circled our group on that bright, sunny day, even as Uncle Don (In full Navy uniform) and Ted sang Danny Boy. And, strangely enough, they waited until the last words of the ceremony were spoken before they promptly flew off.

Since then, when a dragonfly buzzes past anyone who had attended Dad’s funeral, they feel that Dad’s spirit is visiting. It’s pretty amazing.

Even better? The Dragonfly was Dad’s favorite.
Was what happened at his funeral and all those little moments since coincidence? Or was it more? Has he been visiting?
I suppose we’ll never really know. But the idea has helped us heal.
I miss and love you Dad. I hope that you’re happy wherever you may be.
God bless.
The point of my story? If you have a loved one who has passed and you shared big and small moments, cherish them. May they never be far from your heart. Perhaps you have a story like mine? A reason that you know deep down inside that they're still there and in touch.
For those who have loved and lost, stay strong and never stop believing.
For Mom and Dad, their song (and where they honeymooned)... I Left My Heart In San Francisco...
I searched high and low for this video. If one is going to present the 'real' Tony Bennett, they best well do it correctly. And yes, I'm a fan of Judy Garland as well. Take a moment and play this. It'll transport you through time. This is some old school talent, folks. They just don't make it like this anymore. Does the heart good.

Hot Summer Nights- Alisha Paige's, Voodoo Moon!

I hope everyone enjoyed a fabulous weekend! A Writer’s Mind’s, HOT SUMMER NIGHTS BLOG EVENT continues today with super talented author, Alisha Paige. She’ll be chatting about one of her latest releases, Voodoo Moon and serving up some refreshing summer beverages! Be sure to leave a comment to win an Ecopy of Voodoo Moon.


Let’s hear from Alisha…

A big thank you to Sky for this fun Hot Summer Nights Blog Event!! I'm thrilled to be here! I'm passing out virtual tropical drinks with the cute little umbrellas to everyone! Cheers!

A little background on my book. Voodoo Moon is based on the true life historic mansion, Rose Hall in Montego Bay, Jamaica where Annie Palmer killed three of her husbands and ordered her male slaves to her bed chambers. Annie was taught Haitian voodoo as a child by her black nanny and was said to be a powerful voodoo witch. A slave called to the White Witch’s chambers was a death warrant. After visiting Rose Hall, I was inspired to write a romance depicting the horror and terror of the infamous plantation. I still remember standing in Annie Palmer’s red bedroom, thinking of the poor black men who were forced to lie with her, thereby signing their death warrants.

Annie Palmer was killed in a slave uprising and is buried in an above ground tomb on the plantation where it is said her soul cannot escape to torture again. However, her ghost still roams the great rooms of Rose Hall. If you ever travel to Montego Bay, I encourage you to pay a visit to the White Witch’s former home.

I wrote Voodoo Moon because I love a great ghost tale! If you love stories full of magic, ghosts and romance, read a sample of Voodoo Moon at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

WARNING: THIS BOOK IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. GOTHIC GHOST ROMANCE SET ON THE BEAUTIFUL ISLAND OF JAMAICA.

BlURB:

When London rock star, Tammie Palmer inherits the historic plantation, Rose

Hall in Montego Bay, Jamaica, she decides to make it her new recording studio, moving her band, Witch Storm, to the haunted mansion. Tales of her ancestor, Annie Palmer have been floating around Jamaica for nearly two centuries. Horrifying acts of slave torture, black magick, Haitian voodoo and murder are part of the legend of the White Witch of Rose Hall.

Ancient spells conjure a powerful houngan from the 1800's. A voodoo priest who performed black magick to shift into a wolf in order to save his wife, Daisy from the White Witch. Now he's alive again, hell-bent on revenge against the witch's ancestor. But how can the shifter voodoo-king punish a woman whose scent reminds him of his former love? Can he confront his past and survive in this new world as a beast, without falling in love with his enemy?

First Chapter R RATED Excerpt ~ Voodoo Moon

1825 ~ Montego Bay, Jamaica - Rose Hall Plantation

Talin held his secret bride as she wept. Warm, wet tears moistened his chest as she wailed into him, begging him not to go.

“Shh, my love. I must. She will-a kill me if I don’.”

Daisy shook her head fiercely; sobbing, crying out against what she could not stop. “She will-a kill ya if ya go!”

“Der is no otter way round it! I will cahnvince her to let me live.”

Daisy shrieked at his meaning. “By bein’ a lover she cannaw part wit?”

Talin picked her up and carried her to the bed like a sick child. He sat down and rocked her, speaking softly into her ear. Her sobs subsided, her shaking slowed. She sniffed and took a shuddering breath before speaking.

“I will-a lose ya.”

“I’ll find a way out-a dis.”

“How?” she whispered, touching his face where the candle light cast a flickering shadow. “We are slaves! Nahtin mo. Tis only a month since she kilt her lahst lover and now she’s ahskin for ya.”

“I wohn’t allow her to kill me, Daisy,” he said sweeping two kisses onto her forehead. “I’ll keep her ’appy and come home to ya at first light.”

Daisy groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “But for how long? What if she finds out ’bout our secret weddin‘? She’ll ’ave us both kilt!”

“Ya ’ave to trust me! Trust the magick!”

“No! You vowed to stay away from black magick! You promised nah mo voodoo!”

“Tat was befo I knew I’d be forced to lay with the White Witch. It’s the only way ta fight her. If I keep her happy, I stay alive. But you ’ave to trust me and ya ’ave to help me.”

“How?” Daisy asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve, looking past the chiseled chin that formed a shadow on her face.

“The voodoo will be mo powerful if ya perform the spells whi we’re lovin’ one anuther.”

“Ya and the White Witch? Ahhhhhhh! I can’t, Talin! To think of ya with her-”

“Stop it, Daisy! Do ya want to help or not? I cannaw fight her without ya. Tink of us. Tink of our love! We cannaw beat her without the utter.”

A tear slid down her smooth cheek. She nodded slowly, kissed his chest and forced a smile. “Teach me.”

“On the morrow. I have the parchment paper with our names written in chicken’s blood. I’ll ’ide it and the peacock fedder unduh our pillow.”

“But the spell will-a bind ya to her forevuh! Ya will-a forget our love!”

“No! I’m stronger than the magick!”

“How do ya nawh?” she wailed as tears streamed down her face.

“I nawh. Ya nawh, my sweet.”

His large, brown hand moved over her leg, warming her, stopping on her thigh as he bent to kiss her, long and slow. He tasted her tears as they dripped onto her mouth. Lips so soft, so full, so eager. She sighed into him, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. He groaned, sliding his hand over her smooth skin, finding her wetness, cupping her. She moaned as he touched her. His other hand found her rump, kneading it. She gasped when he caressed her, calming her fears with rough, calloused palms. He gathered her heavy, brown breasts, fondling them until she panted with desire, begging him with long, wet kisses full of breathy need.

The image of seeing her for the first time-in shackles, scared and trembling, a new slave for the big house-flashed through his mind. He had loved her the second he’d seen her; scared and alone. They’d grown up on the plantation and fallen deeply in love with one another. Now here they were, making love on the eve of his laying with the White Witch.

Talin rolled her onto the bed and pushed up her gown, exposing all of her. The sight of her in the candle glow brought tears to his eyes. He sucked in a ragged breath. This would be their final night together. He stood, stripped down to nothing and lay beside her, taking her face in his hands, kissing her lips, tasting her tears, breathing her in, memorizing the moment. He would need it later in order to survive nights upon nights with his master.

She arched her neck, letting him mark her one final time. With dark, urgent passion, he sucked her long, brown neck as she moaned, loving it. Her nails dug into his back when he entered her. Their eyes locked, his fierce, holding on; hers wet, pleading, loving. Tears trickled down her flushed cheeks as he moved inside of her. Neither of them wanted to lose one second with the other. She thrashed beneath him, reaching, locking her arms over his shoulders; aching, longing for their night to never end. He wanted to savor the moment. They both did. He shuddered, cried out against the fight to hold on as he held himself within her, his breathing ragged, gazing down at the love of his life.

“Oh, Talin, my love,” she whispered, smiling through her tears.

He bent to kiss them all away. “Do naw cry, my sweet.” Then he took her breast in his mouth; licking, sucking, teasing her tender, taut nipple with his tongue, watching her face, loving the perfect ‘O’ formed by wet, luscious lips now swollen like fresh bee stings. She cried out, hardening him further. Her hands held his smooth, bald head now glistening with sweat. With one bulging arm, he rolled her onto him.

Sky here! I've read this story. It's AMAZING! I was familiar with the haunting at Rose Hall through Ghost Hunters AND Ghost Adventures so I was super intrigued by the concept of this book. Alisha did a fantastic job with it. So be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win!

Purchase Voodoo Moon at Amazon and Barnes & Noble

You can visit Alisha at her Website, Blog or on Twitter @Alishawriter and Facebook.

Contest ends Thursday, July 26th, 12 AM EST.

Hot Summer Nights- Lynda Coker's, The Ocean Between

Welcome! Today we continue A Writer’s Mind’s, HOT SUMMER NIGHTS BLOG EVENT with talented author, Lynda Coker. Lynda is graciously giving away a $5.00 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press - or - a signed copy of THE OCEAN BETWEEN. (Winner's Choice)! So sit back, relax and let’s hear what Lynda has to say about The Ocean Between.
Lynda, the floor’s yours…
The saying, If You Can't Find It Write It, inspired the creation of THE OCEAN BETWEEN. I've always loved the mystery surrounding an Arab Prince and the romance of the desert kingdom he rules. Of course, when a feisty westernized woman enters his world, things always sizzle. Another challenge for me included fashioning a story that would claim the heart of a reader. Judging by the reviews, THE OCEAN BETWEEN does just that.

VICTORIA BALLARD is a New York financial executive who considers men to be an unnecessary annoyance. With her career on track, she focuses on the adoption of four beautiful orphans, a crowning completion to her predesigned life-plan. However, life is a nasty trickster, and it's about to spring one on her in the person of PRINCE RASHID DAVAR.

PRINCE RASHID DAVAR completed a marriage contract with Victoria's father that is sure to teach him an unexpected lesson-a woman of the West is more easily married than controlled. Victoria may be his wife, but it will take a kidnapping, a battle of wills, and some desert heat of his own before he can claim her love.

EXCERPT:

Rashid took the stairs two at a time. Identifying the source of the problem did not take long...the verbal tirade echoing through the lounge came from his private compartment at the rear of the plane.

"Let me out of here! I'm an American citizen and this is kidnapping. I'll have you all arrested and executed for this! I'm warning you, Califar. You tell that unscrupulous, deceitful, desert creep to get back here and let me go!"

Rashid took a step forward and then paused. The sudden cessation of verbal ranting was more unnerving than the previous clamor. The pregnant silence made the hairs on his arms stand erect. With this woman, he was certain the calm was a precursor to worse atrocities. He hoped he was wrong and she had exhausted her vile temper instead. The thud of a solid object slamming against the other side of the door ridiculed his supposed control.He yanked off his robe and headdress. Slinging them toward the back of a chair, he barked a command to his two bodyguards.

"Give the pilot orders to depart...NOW!"

Both went forward to deliver the message, almost jamming the small doorway in their attempt to pass through at the same time. Consumed with his own anger, he could not find any humor in the speed with which they fled one loud, but small woman. He wondered about the quality of his personal security.

Spearing Califar with a glacial look, he motioned him forward. "You will ignore any sound you hear from the other side of that door. Understood?"

"May I speak frankly?"

Rashid stiffened. "If you must."

"This woman you've made your wife is a stranger to you and to our customs. These are extreme circumstances for her. Despite her less than respectful manner, she is still deserving of the gentle persuasion you always accord the women in your life."

"Are you telling me how to treat my wife?" Rashid lashed in reply.

"As your servant...never," replied Califar. "As your friend...I offer a reminder. Guard well your actions this night and remember with what care you have always protected what is yours."

"I will deal with the princess in whatever manner suits me," growled Rashid.

Purchase The Ocean Between at The Wild Rose Press and Amazon.

Visit Lynda Coker at her Blog ~ Facebook ~ Twitter

Watch a BOOK TRAILER for The Ocean Between.

GIVEAWAY: I will give away a $5.00 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press - or - a signed copy of THE OCEAN BETWEEN. (Winner's Choice)

Contest ends Saturday, July 21st, 12 AM EST.

Hot Summer Nights- Beth Trissel's, Enemy of the King

[image error] Happy Monday! I hope everyone enjoyed a wonderful weekend.
It’s time to continue A Writer’s Mind’s, HOT SUMMER NIGHTS BLOG EVENT. For those popping in for the first time, this event features stories that take place either during those warmer summer months or in parts of the world where it’s hot all year round. Authors will be dishing out all sorts of great info. about their titles.
Today it’s my pleasure to welcome over extremely talented author, Beth Trissel. Beth will be giving away an ecopy of her latest work, Enemy of the King to one lucky commenter. Be sure to read what she has to say at the end of this post about her contest!

Let’s hear from Beth now…

Thanks to Sky for having me on her fabulous blog.

Fascination with colonial America and the high drama of the American Revolution drew me to write adventure/romance novel Enemy of the King. Opening in sultry South Carolina in the summer of 1780, the story focuses on the Southern face of the war. Heard of Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox? That’s his stomping ground and where some of my forebears ventured. Years ago, while researching my early American Scots-Irish ancestors, I came across frequent references to a battle fought during the Revolution called the Battle of King’s Mountain. The name alone drew me. I vowed to go back later and research it more in-depth and uncovered fascinating fodder for the imagination. Needless to say, that battle plays a significant role in the story, and, being drawn to mysterious old homes and the notion that those who’ve gone before us aren’t always gone, I included a ghost.

I also suspect my ancestors are speaking to me, as I have a colonial forebear named Jeremiah Jordan (the hero) and discovered an early Meriwether (the heroine) in the family. Not to mention a British general whose grandson was fighting with George Washington. My journey back through time gathered intrigue, and I wondered how the people who lived through anything as all-consuming as the American Revolution ever got their lives back to normal. The ripples from that enormous upheaval are still flowing out in concentric circles. They’ve certainly encompassed me, and now I’m at work on the sequel.

****

[image error] So, step into the elegant parlor of Pleasant Grove, an eighteenth century Georgian plantation built high on the bluff above the Santee River. Admire the stately lines of this gracious brick home and its exquisite decor. Stroll out into the expansive garden between fragrant borders of lavender and rosemary. Bask beneath the moss-hung branches of an enormous live oak, then saunter back indoors to dress for a candlelight dinner in the sumptuous dining room. But don’t plan on a lengthy stay, you’re about to be snatched away for a wild ride into Carolina backcountry.

Jeremiah Jordan is a Patriot and Meriwether Steele a Loyalist. She risks a traitor’s death if she fights for the man she loves.

‘South Carolina, spies and intrigue, a vindictive ghost, the battle of King’s Mountain, Patriots and Tories, pounding adventure, pulsing romance…ENEMY OF THE KING.’

The year is 1780, one of the bloodiest of the American Revolution. The entire Southern garrison has been captured and Lord Cornwallis is marching his forces deep into South Carolina. ‘Bloody Ban’ Lieutenant Major Banestre Tarleton and his infamous Legion are sweeping through the countryside. Revenge is the order of the day on both sides and rugged bands of militia are all that stand between crown forces and utter defeat.~

Blurb: While Loyalist Meriwether Steele recovers from illness in the stately home of her beloved guardian, Jeremiah Jordan, she senses the haunting presence of his late wife. When she learns that Jeremiah is a Patriot spy and shoots Captain Vaughan, the British officer sent to arrest him, she is caught up on a wild ride into Carolina back country, pursued both by the impassioned captain and the vindictive ghost. Will she remain loyal to her king and Tory twin brother or risk a traitor’s death fighting for Jeremiah? If Captain Vaughan snatches her away, he won’t give her a choice.~

Excerpt:

Annoyance thrust through him like molten steel. “Oh, for heaven's sake. So now you're not speaking to me?”

[image error] Meriwether got to her feet in a rustle of silk and addressed Neal with a regal tilt of her chin. “I should like to freshen up. Ensign Gamble, would you be so good as to direct me?”
Jeremiah stood shirtless, in leather breeches and riding boots. A shaft of sunlight played over her father's sword hanging at his side and the dazzling glow of her gown. “You're speaking to him?” he demanded.
Neal shot him a triumphant grin.

“Ensign Gamble is otherwise engaged,” Jeremiah said coldly.

“I am at the lady's service.”

Jeremiah shook his head, ready to rip Neal's from his arrogant neck. “I shall escort Miss Steele.”

“I do not require your services, Captain Jordan.”

“Oh for the love of—” He'd had more than enough. “You are dependent on me for everything. Your very life.”

“Until I reach Bobby.”

Outrage rifled through him. “After last night! Are you out of your mind?”

“Bobby will make Ferguson see I'm innocent!”

Jeremiah grasped her slender shoulders and bent toward her speaking in a low growl. “You are not innocent. You fired on an officer of the crown, and you are not going to the British. It's too risky by half and damn disloyal to me.”

Her lip quivered, but she didn't shrink from him. “I'm a Tory, remember?”

“When you pulled that trigger, you joined the Patriots.” ~

I’m giving away the ebook of ENEMY OF THE KING in kindle, nookbook, or pdf to someone who leaves me a raving comment; more than one copy if I’m sufficiently flattered. Oh the vanity of it all.

For more on me my blog is the happening place: One Writer’s Way

All pertinent links for me are there. Enemy of the King is available in print and or ebook at Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble’s Nookbook, The Wild Rose Press and many other online booksellers.

Contest ends Wednesday, July 18th, 12 AM EST.

Hot Summer Nights- Amber Kallyn's, Bloodstorm

[image error] Happy Thursday! I hope that everyone enjoyed the kick-off of A Writer’s Mind’s, HOT SUMMER NIGHTS BLOG EVENT on Tuesday. For those of you popping in for the first time, this event will run throughout July and August, featuring some wonderful authors with stories that take place during those steamy, hot summer months. Be sure to swing in often as they’re all giving away a little something extra!

Today it’s my pleasure to welcome over romance author, Amber Kallyn. Amber’s chatting about her latest release, Bloodstorm (Heart of a Vampire- Book 1). This book sounds great. Gotta love those vamps!

Amber is graciously giving away an Ecopy of Bloodstorm to THREE lucky commenters!

Let’s hear from Amber…

I remember a few years ago as I delved into my dragon shifters and wrestled with my Angels and Demons, saying flat out I would never write about vampires. I mean, there are so many great books out there already, I didn’t have anything fresh or interesting to bring to the table.

Flash forward...

I’m lying in bed trying to sleep (one of the few quiet times I have to do the creative thing) when a new character wakes up in my head.

She sidles up to me and whispers, “Hello.”

“Hi,” I reply. “Who are you?”

“The name’s Niki. And do I have a story for you.” Then she flashes me a grin, complete with fangs. I jump back from the sight, hands up, shaking my head.

“B-but you’re a vampire,” I tell her. “I don’t write vampires.”

Her eyes shone, red bleeding into the color. “You do now.”

The next morning she was still there, hovering in the back of my mind. Little by little, she introduced me to her lover, Shane, and a whole new world of vampires, shifters and magic.

Niki was such a pain, I couldn’t ignore her. When I finally listened, I realized my vampires don’t follow the standard conventions. They can get a tan, though the sun will weaken them. The whole Holy Water & garlic doesn’t do a thing except leave you with a pissed off, damp, vamp.

They drink blood, but a nice gourmet meal will help them keep that whole humanity thing going. Like anyone, a liquid diet makes them true monsters of the dark.

Stakes hurt, but to truly kill a vampire in my world, it’s off with their heads or they’ll be back.

They’re supernatural beings, fast and strong, but under it all, they still face the same emotional needs as anyone.

In the end, they want to belong and to be loved.

Did I bring anything new to the world of vampire stories? Maybe.

Most of all, I hope what I brought was Niki and her story of hope and love and redemption.

BLURB:

When duty forces a shaman to stop a vampire from her revenge, love doesn’t just burn... it bites.

For two hundred years, Niki DeVeraux has been tracking the monster who murdered her family and made her a vampire. She finally catches up to him only to face more than she bargained for in a too-sexy sheriff who makes her remember she’s still a woman. With duties as Keeper of the peace and Sheriff, Shane Spencer must protect humanity and stop the friction between the local Arcaine races before it turns into an all out blood war.

When wolves start turning up dead, the tension between the races grows and suspicion falls on Niki. Shane knows she’s not to blame, and it has nothing to do with the primal urges she stirs within him. Working together, they must stop the hostilities from going over the edge. Trouble is, the desires raging between them might prove more dangerous than the surrounding threats.

EXCERPT:

Prologue

The pitch black tunnel, complete with crumbling dirt walls and cobwebs, didn’t frighten Nicola DeVeraux. The dark held nothing to fear. She’d seen too many real monsters in the years since her death.

Besides, her night vision was as good as any human’s in the bright light of day.

She stepped over a skeleton, then around the grisly remains of a wild boar.

At the far end of the tunnel, candlelight flared to life, as if welcoming her into the witch’s den. Her boots stirred up dust as she entered the small cave.

The walls glinted with a mix of crystalline dirt and flecked stone. The scent of a nearby spring layered heavy moisture in the air. In the center of the cavern stood a long rectangular table, covered by a black velvet cloth. Strange items, some unrecognizable at first--or even second--glance, littered the top.

“Ye came.”

Spinning at the gravelly, androgynous voice, Niki grabbed for the dagger at her waist.

The old crone cackled as she entered, her grin nearly toothless. Stringy gray hair straggled around her plump, wrinkled, face. Jezamine glided to the table. “I didn’t think ye’d answer my summons.”

“You asked me to come, old woman. I assume there’s a reason.” Though the dark tunnel hadn’t scared her, the witch did. Niki forced herself to take another step, though she kept a tense grip on the hilt of her still-sheathed dagger.

“What question do ye ask the gods?”

Ignoring the tension roiling in her stomach, she moved to the woman’s side. “They’re finally ready to answer me?”

Jezamine laughed again, the sound sending skitters down Niki’s spine. “Ye know they take their time, girl.”

“Fine. I want to know if I’ll finally find the man who murdered my family.”

The old woman reached for a silver cup etched with strange markings. She shook it three times before dumping the contents into a circle made from small, round crystals. Human finger bones clattered against one another. She bent over the table.

Jezamine had looked as ancient a hundred years ago as she did now. “Hmm. Yes. Mmm.” The old woman poked at one bone sticking above the others. “But what ‘bout...”

Niki eased onto one of the dark wooden stools at the far end of the table.

The priestess sprung upright, staring at Niki with her fathomless dark eyes. Her inky black lips stretched in a grimacing smile. “It’s yer birthday. Samhain be a good day for birthin’.”

Niki clenched her fists in her lap. “Not really.”

Halloween was a cursed day to be born. It had brought her nothing but pain, brought her family nothing but death.

The old woman poked at the bones again. “Maybe. Maybe ye be finding the monster ye seek, maybe be getting some other kind of lucky.” Jezamine’s screeching laugh echoed from the cavern walls.

Shivers inched along Niki’s spine and flooded into her legs. Thankfully she was sitting down. “What do you mean, some other kind of lucky?”

Jezamine’s dark eyes glittered. “Girl, I don’t think ye want me telling. Don’t think the Fates want me telling.”

“Then what about Thomas?” Her nails poked painfully into her palms.

“Lil’ girl. Why ye wanna spend all yer time tracking down pure evil?”

“Duty.”

“Duty?”

Memories flashed. The Halloween ball, celebrating not just her seventeenth birthday, but her engagement as well. The plantation in the bayou, ringing with music and laughter. At least until dawn arrived, the sun shining down on nothing but death.

Niki shook the old pain away. “Duty,” she repeated. “He owes me vengeance.”

“’Tis a fine line ye walk between revenge and justice.” Jezamine shook her head, the corners of her lips drooping in a frown. “Revenge make yer soul dark as his.”

“I don’t care.” In the far corner of the cave, wisps of white fog crept up the walls. Soon they would form into the shapes of those long dead.

She jumped to her feet, turning away. “Can you tell me anything else?”

Jezamine walked around the table to face her. “’Ware child. He who turned ye may also be the cause of yer downfall.”

Niki lifted her chin, facing down the old woman’s words, the Fates themselves. “Not until after I’ve killed him.”

Chapter One

As Shane Spencer finished the last of his beer, his deputy, Chase Campton, strode by, slapping him on the back.

“Another re-election year well done, Sheriff.”

The small crowd in the bar cheered and the waitress, Rae, slipped another bottle onto his corner table.

Shane tipped his cowboy hat politely and plastered on a fake smile, unable to join in the spirit. All day, something dark had been hanging over the town. Not that anyone else sensed it. He needed to go to his childhood home. On the edge of town, the house sat at the borderline of the Apache reservation and Moss Creek.

His father, head shaman and seer, would know what the signs meant. Once again, doubt crept up inside Shane. How did the Fates pass over the eldest in their family and choose him as their father’s successor? It had never before happened in their tribe’s history.

He nursed the beer, deep in thought.

The door banged open, a cold autumn breeze swirled the smoky air. A woman followed it in, stopping just inside the bar. The air vibrated with unseen power. Even the deepest shadows shivered. Everyone in the bar fell silent, turning as one to look her way.

She held her head high, long black hair curling over her shoulders like silk. Her bright green gaze scanned the tables. She passed over Shane without pause, only to snap back to him.

Magic filled the room and the hair on his forearms rose. The other people in the bar were forgotten. Only the two of them existed.

His heartbeat slowed, skipped a beat, sped up like a race horse barreling down the track.

The doorframe towered over her slight form. Yet her body was ripe, lush with curves. The tight blue jeans emphasized her hips, the narrowness of her waist. And the sleeveless white tank showed her breasts off to perfection.

He swallowed, though his mouth was dry.

Her eyes widened and even over the distance of the room, he heard her soft, feminine gasp. Palms slick, he shakily set the bottle back on the table.

His blood screamed primitive urges... demanding he drag her off to his cave.

It wasn’t like him.

Women, even the most beautiful, had never affected him this way. He’d met with the rich and beautiful, models and actresses galore during his time in the city. Gathering the remaining shreds of his willpower, he closed his eyes calling on the magic of his ancestors. The spirits of the earth responded and power surged through him. Magic raised the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck as the whispers of the spirits of the nearby forest filled him. Ignoring it to concentrate on what was here and now, he reopened his eyes. Colorful hues surrounded everyone in the bar.

Her aura struck him like a punch to the gut. A deep maroon, with flecks of black, revealed exactly what she was.

Vampire.

And not local.

Purchase Bloodstorm at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords.

Visit Amber's Blog ~ Twitter ~ Facebook

Sign up for Amber's Newsletter for fun & freebies!

Don't forget to comment for a chance to win. Contest ends, Saturday, July 14th, 12 AM EST.

Hot Summer Nights- Babette James', Clear As Day

[image error] Welcome! Today is the first day of A Writer’s Mind’s, HOT SUMMER NIGHTS BLOG EVENT.

This sizzling hot event will run throughout the summer and feature many best-selling authors. Of course, all participating stories include hot summer nights! Keeping in theme, they either take place during the steamy summer months or in parts of the world where it’s toasty all year round. And, naturally, every author will be giving away a little something extra to those of you who comment!

Today it’s my pleasure to welcome over romance author, Babette James. She’ll be sharing a bit about why she wrote her latest novel, Clear As Day. It sounds amazing! Don’t forget, one lucky commenter wins an Ecopy of this book.

Let’s hear from Babette…

Thanks so much for letting me visit today and share a little about my debut novel, Clear As Day, a sweetly scorching contemporary romance about two friends with benefits facing the fears and uncertainties of their changing relationship.

Clear As Day began life as a short story years back when I was in college, an exercise featuring the July desert heat and cool waters of Lake Mohave, a reservoir downstream from the Hoover Dam formed out of stretch of the Colorado River by the Davis Dam. I grew up in Southern California and I’ve always had a love of the deserts of the Southwest. I had fun with the story, adding in bits of my family’s trips to the river, other camping and fishing experiences, and my own enjoyment of watercolors, music, photography, and the desert. Lake Mohave is a starkly beautiful location and lets you feel you’ve gone somewhere completely remote even though it’s accessible in only a little over an hour from Las Vegas. My cover shows a glimpse of the shoreline. The backcountry camping site in Clear As Day is only accessible by boat and there are no amenities beyond the sparkling, cool lake water, scenic desert, and wide blue sky. You pack in what you need and leave only your footprints behind when it’s time to head home. It definitely provided a challenge for more intimate scenes!

But a story needs more than a setting, and my artist character Kay appeared in her lakeside campsite, already independent, reserved, and commitment-shy. Then the man who would become easy-going, globetrotting photographer Nate showed up to disrupt her careful, comfortable rut in life. Their simple friends-with-benefits relationship proved not so simple and their conflict, love story, and their tight-knit group of friends they meet every July to get away from it all for two weeks of fun, fast boats, and fishing turned the once sweet short story into a fun, spicy romance novel.

I loved writing Clear As Day, it’s been a story of my heart in many ways, so seeing this story published is a dream come true. Being able to hold my book in my hands and receiving the 4 1/2 star scorcher review from Romantic Times truly have been a thrill. I hope you enjoy Nate and Kay’s journey to love as much as I have.

BLURB:

What’s a girl to do when her summer lover wants forever?

Haunted by dark memories of her parents’ volatile marriage, artist Kay Browning keeps her heart locked behind a free-spirit facade and contents herself with the comfortable affair she has every summer with easygoing photographer Nate Quinn.

The only trouble with her plan? This summer Nate’s come to Lake Mohave to claim the lover he can’t let go. He’s done with the endless traveling and settling for temporary homes and temporary loves. Kay’s always been more than just a vacation fling, and now he must convince this woman, who sees love as a course to certain heartbreak, to take that leap of faith and learn how safe love with the right man can be.

EXCERPT:

With a splash, she erased the frustrating daydream. This wishful imagining fixed nothing. Her sheltered little camp would still be empty. Should she give in, pack up the camp, and hit the road north to Lake Mead instead? Just break her routine for once.

No, but it was definitely past time to get her tush out of the water and do something constructive. This lonely gnawing in her bones and brain was unacceptable. Kay pushed to her feet, facing out to the scenic lake created out of a stretch of the Colorado River and the rugged land beyond shimmering with heat.

Work, right, but it was too early in the day for the hard afternoon light she needed for the Coyote Point painting. She was too restless to read or fish and not in the mood to take the boat over to the marina, chat with George, and buy ice.

She rolled her shoulders and stretched, enjoying the hot air licking over her wet skin. As she wiggled her feet in the sand and gravel-bottomed shallows, a flurry of minnows darted past her ankles, and her silver toe ring glinted beneath the clear water. She paused, caught by the possibilities in the sparkling sun on water and the intricate, shifting reflections over gravel.

Yes! Exactly the distracting challenge she needed. Shaking the water from her ears, she pivoted toward camp.

“Kay!” That male voice was not her imagination.

“Oh, shit!” She twisted and dropped into the water, sinking neck-deep.

Mother always said, among other things, that a lady never goes skinny-dipping and must always wear a proper hat. Kay was only half skinny-dipping, but she fervently wished she’d worn something a bit more substantial than a baseball cap and the bottom half of the quintessential teeny-weenie yellow polka-dot bikini.

Shit, oh, shit, oh, shit. She so hated when Mother was right.

Okay, time to find out who’d just gotten an eyeful. The guy had called her name, so she should know him. Oh boy, if she’d flashed old George…

She wiped water from her face, sucked in a breath against her pounding heart, and peeked around.

Nate.

She must be sun-dazed. Nate? With a beard? Hair curling over his ears? No way.

Just because a familiar slouchy fishing hat topped those unruly, sun-bleached blond curls and just because this guy possessed the same deep-water tan and footloose taste in clothes as Nate with his electric blue Hawaiian shirt, bright orange swim trunks, and beat-up deck shoes didn’t mean—

“Hey, babe. Now that I’ve finally caught your attention, how about a hug from my girl?” He opened his arms. “Am I coming in after you or are you coming out?” Only Nate’s voice held that mellow timbre like chocolate for her ears.

“Nate! What…” Giddy delight flushed over Kay, clearing her shock. She dashed from the water and into strong arms, a wonderful hug, and a better kiss that launched her mind into a blissed-out whirl of oh, yes and why?

The oh, yes won out until the need to breathe forced them apart.

Nate gave her a long look, his usually easy gray eyes holding a new, simmering heat.

Wow. Whoa.

Bio: Babette James writes contemporary and fantasy romance and loves reading nail-biting tales with a satisfying happily ever after. When not dreaming up stories, she enjoys playing with new bread recipes and dabbling with paints. A teacher, she loves encouraging new readers and writers as they discover their growing abilities. Her class cheers when it’s time for their spelling test! She lives in New Jersey with her wonderfully patient husband and three extremely spoiled cats.

Visit Babette's Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook

View the book trailer for Clear As Day HERE.

Purchase Clear As Day at The Wild Rose Press, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Come fall in love at the river.

One lucky reader who leaves a comment will be randomly selected to win an eBook copy of Clear As Day. Good luck!

Contest ends Thursday, July 12th, 12 AM EST.

Once in a Lifetime Event!

MEGA WEEKEND BOOK BLOWOUT EVENT!

To celebrate the completion of my Calum's Curse Trilogy, my MacLomain Series is FREE all weekend, Saturday, July 7th and Sunday, July 8th at Amazon. That's one short story and three novels! Click HERE to scoop up your ecopies now.

THE KING'S DRUIDESS - Chiomara will not be swayed from prophecy. If the Gods of Ireland request that she couple with the king, so be it. If it is also their wish that he marry another woman, who is she, a simple Druid, to stand in their way? But King Erc is in love with Chiomara. Will he risk the whole of his kingdom for what lays in his heart?
FATE'S MONOLITH- Arianna has been haunted by the dream of a phantom Scottish warrior. Her infatuation with the dream intensifies until All Hallows' Eve when she's whisked back in time. Iain MacLomain has long awaited the arrival of his promised bride. She claims to not be the woman intended for him but she fits the description given him of her. Her defiance will end up costing them everything and rips them apart. However, a Scottish Chieftain with magic at his disposal is capable of most anything. Will he hold Arianna in his arms again or is she lost to him forever?
DESTINY'S DENIAL- Caitlin relives the same nightmare every night for three years. Then one day, the dream seeps into reality when an ethereal Scotsman visits. When Caitlin discovers a family heirloom in the attic she soon learns the truth about her dream. Ferchar MacLomain found what he was looking for. Caitlin. To bring her to Cowal will spell disaster-a foreseen threat to himself, his clan, and Caitlin. As a visionary, it's his obligation to protect her. As a man, he's determined to ignore his heart. Can he thwart his destiny? Or will he forever be a slave to the gods of old.
SYLVAN MIST- Coira refuses to acknowledge the Scotsman haunting her. Why should she? She carries no magic and she's newly engaged. She much prefers a proper English gentleman to a barbarian living six hundred years in the past. However, as one whirlwind day will prove, she has little choice in the matter. William MacLomain did not call her back, yet she arrives. Coira is not the woman meant for him. Or is she? Her arrival marks the start of a highland war unlike any Scotland has witnessed before. Soon, he finds himself in a tangled web of duty, loyalty and unexpected love. A love so unattainable and powerful it may cost him the war; and his heart.
These stories contain strong sexual content and are recommended for a mature audience.

Enjoy your weekend!

Sky

Happy Birthday America!

I’m exceedingly proud of my country and HAVE to wish her a Happy Birthday! Here’s to 236 of freedom!

I know we’re a young country but look how far we’ve come. And, as always, when I think about my freedom and the USA, I think about all of those troops out there still fighting to maintain freedom and peace.

Never forget that you are heroes all! God Bless.





And, to lighten the mood… some 4th of July jokes I found. No offense to the British. I adore the country and have many English friends. (Compliments of http://www.guy-sports.com/)
What happened as a result of the Stamp Act?(The Americans licked the British!)

What did King George think of the American colonists?
(He thought they were revolting!)

Wishing everyone a safe and fun-filled holiday!!!

(((hugs)))
Sky

The Deadly 777 Challenge

I was tagged by the talented, Linda LaRoque along with six other authors. My challenge is to go to page 7 of my current work in progress and post seven lines. When I'm done posting, I get to tag seven other authors. Hmm, who shall I tag? Oh and once I'm done, I challenge those seven to do the same and tag 7 more. Too much fun!

I just wrapped up my latest Work-In-Progress, The Tudor Revival (Calum’s Curse: Ultima Bellum) so I decided to snag seven sentences from that. *grins*

Here goes…

A light breeze caressed her face.

Seth said, “I want to live again.”

Something about the way he said it, even within her mind, set her teeth on edge, made her skin tingle with awareness. Opening her eyes, she gazed at the brief stretch of lawn and tried to focus on the slew of deep greens washed across the New England woodland.

Breathing became impossible. The mere concept of Seth's spirit so close made her knees grow weak.

And not because of the fact he might be a ghost.

My 7 authors to tag…

Hywela Lyn
Alisha Paige 
Skhye Moncrief 
Catherine Bybee
Beth Trissel 
P.J. Jones
Eliza Knight

Woot! Have fun all!

Sky

My Own Little Amazing Indie Story

Did you know that I am with a publishing house and I'm also an independent author?
I am not the 'HUGE' success story about Indie authors that you might have read about on the internet.
But I’m not the small story either.
And so begins my tale.

It began last summer when my Dad went into the hospital. I know that sounds weird but within all the terrible heartache that went along with my Dad being sick, I was receiving emails from fellow authors about this great thing… independent publishing. Dad was aware of it. I’d talked to him about it, mostly with a frown on my face. I didn’t like the idea or concept. I am… was all about publishing houses,

But Dad liked the idea of me going out on my own. He saw somthing good in it. And darn if he didn't make me a believer. He made me see something in myself I had not seen.

Self-worth.

And that was a skip and jump to my writing. After all, my writing was ME. So I listened to Dad.

Write for me and my readers. Nobody else.

I knew I could. I knew I had to. Since I've independently published I’ve sold over 60,000 books in seven months. Pretty cool. But don’t let your jaw drop too far down. I didn’t make 60K. I wish! I made a small fraction of that. But with that small fraction I helped with Dad’s medical bills. With that small fraction I finally showed my husband that I haven’t just been typing idly for the past five year. With that small fraction I developed and met a wonderful new reader base.

That’s right. Five years.

Being a writer is a passion, an obsession and truly, an author’s whole world.

I can’t lie. I hope someday that I can tell you that I’ve sold millions. But I’m not there yet. Will be though! Promise. Because there’s nothing but ‘forward’ for me. Being an independent author is AMAZING. It is the future. It is the way that readers will discover so many wonderful authors!

This post is a SOLID shout out to the people who made this possible for me…

#1 Amazon- Can’t tell you how much I love them. They were there for me 100%.

#2 Barnes & Noble- A great site.

#3 Smashwords- They never let me down.

Today I’m still swimming through the wild world of publishing but I’m doing it with a smile on my face. How could I not?

Sky