Teresa J. Reasor's Blog, page 7
April 9, 2018
Breaking Hearts is Released!!! Here's an excerpt!!
IT'S RELEASE DAY! AND I'M SO EXCITED!
Bowie's story, BREAKING HEARTS is live. And I think you'll love reading it as much as I loved writing it. He Is sooooo sexy. Bowie has always been the Casanova of the team. The serial dater, who never let a woman close to his heart. Now, we get to see why he is how he is. And there are a few hints about the next book sprinkled in, too.
HERE'S AN EXCERPT TO WET YOUR APPETITE:
Alayna followed Bowie’s progress as he strode down the sidewalk to his car. He was still angry. And she didn’t have the energy to defend herself. Didn’t have a clue how she’d defend herself. She purposely hurt him to keep him safe, but at this point he probably wouldn’t care why she broke things off with him. He’d moved on with his life.She had tried to move on too, but failed miserably. Three children and a broken marriage later, she was right back where she was after graduating from high school. Alone, broke, and still longing for something she lost ten years ago.Would she have contacted Bowie if she’d known he lived here? Probably. She wouldn’t have been able to resist. But she’d done enough damage ten years ago. Her family did enough damage to them both. Damage she had plenty of time to regret. Ten years of grief, regret and longing. She made so many mistakes, and never figured out a way to fight her father and protect Bowie. Her father had the law on his side, and Bowie’s life would have been over if she hadn’t walked away from him.Even that hadn’t saved her from one of the most painful episodes of her life. Seeing him brought it all rushing back.She glanced at him as he paused next to his car. He was still gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than in high school, which she never would have believed possible.He was older, of course, and more muscular, his shoulders broader. It was hard not to stare at him and just drink him in. The well-defined muscles were delineated by the gray T-shirt hugging every one of them. He still had those compelling, chocolate brown eyes with a striking rim of gold around the iris, and a manly face that could cause angels to weep. But he hadn’t smiled, so she didn’t get to see those dimples.She was close to weeping as she trudged down the sidewalk to her car.She couldn’t believe the police had frozen her bank account because of an investigation into her ex-husband’s real estate dealings, dealings she never had any part in.How she was supposed to pay her bills and feed her girls? She needed to go to the police station and talk to someone. If she couldn’t provide a home for her children, even if it was because of something Aaron did, he’d go to court to take the girls away from her. He didn’t want them, of course. He just wanted her to suffer.She hit the key fob, unlocked her car, and reached for the door handle. Her attention was drawn back to Bowie. She’d probably never see him again. He turned and looked toward her over the tops of the cars.For a moment their eyes met. Her heart rose up to choke her. She’d loved him since she was fifteen. Wanted to marry him, have his children. They had such plans for after graduation—college, a home, a family. “I’m sorry.” The words came out a whisper.An engine revved behind her, and gravel shot across the asphalt when the vehicle braked. Alayna turned and eyed the van blocking her car. The side door opened, and two men leaped out, their faces covered by stocking masks. When they both rushed toward her, she stumbled back and turned to run.The two men swooped down on her and grabbed her arms. She screamed, twisted and turned in their grasp, then attempted to dig in her heels. They lifted her off her feet. She squirmed and kicked, hitting the calf of the guy on her right. He stumbled.Another man leapt from the side, slid across the trunk of her car, and hit the attacker on her left mid-body. They all went down sideways, hard. The only thing that saved her from being hurt was the cushion provided by the guy on her right. She planted an elbow in his gut as she struggled to jerk away and get up.Bowie rolled onto his knees. The kidnapper beneath him struck out, hitting him in the jaw and rocking his head back. Bowie punched the guy in the face, reared up, and grabbed her arm, his fingers digging in as the man on her right held onto her arm at the same time. She was a rag doll between the two men, their fingers bruising her. She kicked the guy at her feet in the balls, and her skin burned as she was wrenched from his grip. Though he was groaning, he grabbed her ankle, and she pulled her foot free, losing a shoe, and scrambled to get her legs moving.Bowie half-dragged, half-carried her away from the van and the men. The two kidnappers ran after them toward the bank until a security guard rushed out the front door, his weapon drawn.The two turned tail and ran to the van, jumped inside, and the vehicle peeled off and shot away.Alayna bent at the waist and braced a hand on one knee to catch her breath. There’d been little time to feel scared until now. Now she was shaking with adrenaline and shock. All the possibilities raced through her head. White slavery, rape, murder. Dear God.“Alayna.” Bowie’s voice dragged her thoughts away from what could have happened and back to what was. “You okay?”“Yes.” She straightened, and the world tilted, going grayish-black for a moment, then righted itself. Bowie grabbed her elbow to steady her until everything came back into focus.The security guard looked like a boy scout with a gun. “Come inside the building, ma’am, until the police get here. I’ve already called them.”“I have to pick up my children.”“Is there someone you can call, Alayna?” Bowie asked.“No.” Who had time to make friends when you worked fifty hours a week and cared for three children? “They’re at my ex-husband’s house, and if I’m five minutes late…” He didn’t need to hear about the state of her relationship with her ex. Why would he care? After what she’d done to him, after what her father planned to do, and her brother had done, he’d probably think she deserved whatever she got.“Call him.” He handed her his phone. “I think an attempted kidnapping is a good enough reason for being late.”Her hands shook as she trailed a finger across the screen to open it and dialed the number. The phone rang several times, and no one answered. “They must be outside in the backyard.” Which didn’t ease her anxiety. She hoped someone was out watching the children. The pool was right there, just waiting for an accident to happen. And Rosa couldn’t swim without her floaties.“I’ll call Aaron’s cell.” She’d hear about that later, too. She dialed the number. The muscles in her shoulders and back tightened as she braced to defend herself. The phone went to voice mail after only three rings. If Aaron was playing at his passive-aggressive bullshit, she’d lose it when she saw him. She’d lose it even worse if something happened to her children while they were at his house.“No one’s answering.”“They’re probably outside grilling burgers. As soon as the police have taken your statement, you can go get them.”
If only he knew. It was never that easy.
If you're interested in Breaking Hearts, here's the blurb and the links:
Running into Bowie Rivera is the last thing Alayna Wieland expects. She searched for him for years, then tried to move on with her life, but never recovered from losing him. And now she has too much baggage to deserve another chance.
Alayna’s ex-husband embezzled millions from not one, but several criminal organizations, telling them Alayna has the info they need to recover the money. With her and her young daughters in the crosshairs, Bowie steps in to keep them safe.
The cops decide to use her and the children as bait to capture her ex. But her ex has plans...plans that may cost them the second chance both she and Bowie long for...and much, much more.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GkWKJw
B & N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/breaking-hearts-teresa-j-reasor/1128023953?ean=2940155147602
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/breaking-hearts-7
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/795572
Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/breaking-hearts/id1352431177?mt=11
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2Gk18Zq
Amazon Canada: https://amzn.to/2Idw6CU
I thought I'd remind you of my latest Paranormal Romance, DEEP WITHIN THE STONE (Book 2 of the Superstition Series) If you like a book that makes you laugh, cry, and howl at the moon in frustration, Deep Within the Stone is the one for you. My hero, though he's a gargoyle, is sexy and a true ALPHA. He may be a monster, but he's all man, too. The story is a Beauty and the Beast Tale for adults.
HERE'S AN EXCERPT:
Finn studied the sleeping woman while he waited for the sun to slip behind the mountains, and for night to fall. Her features, relaxed in slumber, were refined and delicate. Just a hint of pink tinged her cheekbones, and her brows formed a graceful arch. He studied the roundness of her chin, the fullness of her parted lips, and a sharp, poignant hunger to taste her lips rose in him.If she wakened to see his ugly face, alive and as monstrous in the flesh as he was in stone, it would surely frighten her to death.When her eyes opened, thick brown lashes fluttered as she blinked, then her attention focused on him. Would she recognize the change coming over him? He felt the magic awaken and begin dragging at him, trying to tear him out of the stone.She swung her legs over the side of the lounge chair, turned away, and stood, stretching. She climbed the steps and went inside just as the sun sank deep behind the mountains.Butterbean rubbed against Finn’s legs, arched his back, and meowed, begging to be picked up. Finn scooped him into his arms, and the cat bumped its head against his jaw. If nothing else had improved in his life, at least he had earned the cat’s affection.Four large wolves loped around the side of the house, their tongues lolling out. They came as far as the edge of the woods last night and waited for him, and tonight they were growing bolder.Butterbean began to growl deep in his throat, the hair rising on his back, his tail puffing out. The youngest of the wolves whined, intent on the cat.Using his arm as a springboard, Butterbean leaped free of Finn’s grasp, landed on the nearby table, jumped to the ground, and, running for all he was worth, sprinted across the yard. One of the wolves broke from the pack in pursuit, his haunches bunching as he took great leaps toward the cat.Finn roared, “Nay.” He ran forward and took to the sky. The easy flap of his wings seemed slow and laborious, but pushed him forward. He bore down on the pair. The wolf edged closer, his jaws open.Finn grasped the feline by the back of the neck and swung him up into his arms. The wolf leapt to snatch Butterbean from his grasp, missing the cat’s tail by a thumb’s width. The cat’s claws dug deep into Finn’s shoulder, and his hisses and growling cries of panic pierced the air.The porch light came on, and Genevieve rushed out onto the patio, facing off with the other three wolves with a wooden club of some kind. Finn’s roar of warning startled Butterbean, and his claws dug deeper, slashing down his shoulder and stomach. If he dropped the cat now, it might be injured, so he hung onto the animal as gently as possible and soared back toward the house.When Finn landed a short distance from her, Genevieve staggered back toward the door, dropping the club, which thudded against the concrete and bounced on the hard surface, setting up a hollow clatter.His deep-chested roar displaced the air and left it shimmering with sound as he landed between her and the wolves.“Begone! You are frightening my mistress.”The wolves turned and fled toward the woods, the fourth wolf racing to join them.Butterbean’s back claws dug as deep into his stomach as the foreclaws had his shoulder. The scent of his own blood, coppery and rich, wafted to him. Until the night before, it had been a long time since he suffered any kind of injury, and these scratches nipped and stung with equal vigor, just as the bullet nick had the night before.He soothed the cat with gentle strokes while he unhooked its claws from his skin.“You aren’t going to hurt my cat, are you?” Genevieve’s voice sounded breathy and weak, her breathing ragged, as she retreated toward what she called the studio.Strong emotion clamped a hand around Finn’s throat, and his eyes glazed with tears. He blinked to clear his vision. “Nay. I wouldna repay his affection by harming him.” He moved gingerly to turn so his nakedness would not further distress her. In the dim light, her face glowed, pale and featureless. Try as he might, he could not read her expression. “I mean you no harm either, mistress.”Silence reigned between them for several seconds.“Oh, God. This can’t be happening. I’m either hallucinating or dreaming.” Her voice climbed to a higher pitch.He kept his tone even, though he couldn’t control the rough, gravelly timbre of his voice. “I have oft thought the same, living the life of this creature.”She half fell, half sank onto the edge of the patio, as though the strength had left her limbs.“Ye dinna have t’fear me. I will leave if it is what ye wish.”Her voice was stronger when she asked, “Can you go?”His hope fell as quickly as it had risen, hollowing his belly.“I mean…can you permanently leave the base you perch on?”“No. I have tried, but I am always called back to it.”“Why?”“’Tis part of the magic that created me.” He fell silent for a moment. Surely, being a sculptor, she would understand and wish to protect the stone gargoyle, even if she wished to be free of the live one? “Without a guardian’s protection, while I am stone I am most vulnerable. I could be hammered into pieces. My greatest fear is t’come alive once the damage is done and be unable to die.”She leaned forward to brace her elbows on her knees and covered her face with both hands. When she finally dropped them, and used the hem of her shirt to wipe her face, he realized she was crying.“You–you’re bleeding.”“Aye. Butterbean was a wee bit frightened and dug his claws in.” He continued to stroke him. “He’s calming now.”He started toward her, but thought better of it, and bent to set the cat on its feet. Butterbean meandered over to Genevieve and rubbed against her in a bid to be picked up. She cuddled him close.“Thank you for saving him.”“You’re welcome. ’Tis instinct for wolves to chase anythin’ that runs from them. Butterbean has been generous with his affection, and I would have been distressed had he been harmed.” He would have a talk with the pack and encourage them to keep their distance in the future.“Are you friends with them?”“They have shared their food with me.”Genevieve pushed awkwardly to her feet, still clutching the cat. “I’ll get you some disinfectant to clean those scratches.”She was not screaming or beside herself with terror. But once she was locked inside the house, would she call the men who were here last night? Would they come back to kill or imprison him?Could their modern weapons do what swords, knives, and arrows were unable to do in years past? The bullet nick on his arm had healed as soon as he turned to stone, but had bled badly beforehand.He looked to the west where the wolves had disappeared into the forest. He wasn’t a member of their pack. They would not offer him protection, because it would put them at risk.
He had no pack, or flock, or clan to call on. He had outlived his family, his son, everyone in his clan. What great loss would it be if they killed him? Who would mourn his passing?
HERE'S THE BLURB:
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ
Amazon Author page: http://amzn.to/1j6OYPgBook Gorilla- http://www.bookgorilla.com/author/B0056ZRB7E/teresa-reasorBook Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/teresa-reasor
I hope you enjoyed the excerpts from my books! And I hope you're as excited about my new release as I am. Happy Reading! Teresa Reasor
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Bowie's story, BREAKING HEARTS is live. And I think you'll love reading it as much as I loved writing it. He Is sooooo sexy. Bowie has always been the Casanova of the team. The serial dater, who never let a woman close to his heart. Now, we get to see why he is how he is. And there are a few hints about the next book sprinkled in, too.
HERE'S AN EXCERPT TO WET YOUR APPETITE:
Alayna followed Bowie’s progress as he strode down the sidewalk to his car. He was still angry. And she didn’t have the energy to defend herself. Didn’t have a clue how she’d defend herself. She purposely hurt him to keep him safe, but at this point he probably wouldn’t care why she broke things off with him. He’d moved on with his life.She had tried to move on too, but failed miserably. Three children and a broken marriage later, she was right back where she was after graduating from high school. Alone, broke, and still longing for something she lost ten years ago.Would she have contacted Bowie if she’d known he lived here? Probably. She wouldn’t have been able to resist. But she’d done enough damage ten years ago. Her family did enough damage to them both. Damage she had plenty of time to regret. Ten years of grief, regret and longing. She made so many mistakes, and never figured out a way to fight her father and protect Bowie. Her father had the law on his side, and Bowie’s life would have been over if she hadn’t walked away from him.Even that hadn’t saved her from one of the most painful episodes of her life. Seeing him brought it all rushing back.She glanced at him as he paused next to his car. He was still gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than in high school, which she never would have believed possible.He was older, of course, and more muscular, his shoulders broader. It was hard not to stare at him and just drink him in. The well-defined muscles were delineated by the gray T-shirt hugging every one of them. He still had those compelling, chocolate brown eyes with a striking rim of gold around the iris, and a manly face that could cause angels to weep. But he hadn’t smiled, so she didn’t get to see those dimples.She was close to weeping as she trudged down the sidewalk to her car.She couldn’t believe the police had frozen her bank account because of an investigation into her ex-husband’s real estate dealings, dealings she never had any part in.How she was supposed to pay her bills and feed her girls? She needed to go to the police station and talk to someone. If she couldn’t provide a home for her children, even if it was because of something Aaron did, he’d go to court to take the girls away from her. He didn’t want them, of course. He just wanted her to suffer.She hit the key fob, unlocked her car, and reached for the door handle. Her attention was drawn back to Bowie. She’d probably never see him again. He turned and looked toward her over the tops of the cars.For a moment their eyes met. Her heart rose up to choke her. She’d loved him since she was fifteen. Wanted to marry him, have his children. They had such plans for after graduation—college, a home, a family. “I’m sorry.” The words came out a whisper.An engine revved behind her, and gravel shot across the asphalt when the vehicle braked. Alayna turned and eyed the van blocking her car. The side door opened, and two men leaped out, their faces covered by stocking masks. When they both rushed toward her, she stumbled back and turned to run.The two men swooped down on her and grabbed her arms. She screamed, twisted and turned in their grasp, then attempted to dig in her heels. They lifted her off her feet. She squirmed and kicked, hitting the calf of the guy on her right. He stumbled.Another man leapt from the side, slid across the trunk of her car, and hit the attacker on her left mid-body. They all went down sideways, hard. The only thing that saved her from being hurt was the cushion provided by the guy on her right. She planted an elbow in his gut as she struggled to jerk away and get up.Bowie rolled onto his knees. The kidnapper beneath him struck out, hitting him in the jaw and rocking his head back. Bowie punched the guy in the face, reared up, and grabbed her arm, his fingers digging in as the man on her right held onto her arm at the same time. She was a rag doll between the two men, their fingers bruising her. She kicked the guy at her feet in the balls, and her skin burned as she was wrenched from his grip. Though he was groaning, he grabbed her ankle, and she pulled her foot free, losing a shoe, and scrambled to get her legs moving.Bowie half-dragged, half-carried her away from the van and the men. The two kidnappers ran after them toward the bank until a security guard rushed out the front door, his weapon drawn.The two turned tail and ran to the van, jumped inside, and the vehicle peeled off and shot away.Alayna bent at the waist and braced a hand on one knee to catch her breath. There’d been little time to feel scared until now. Now she was shaking with adrenaline and shock. All the possibilities raced through her head. White slavery, rape, murder. Dear God.“Alayna.” Bowie’s voice dragged her thoughts away from what could have happened and back to what was. “You okay?”“Yes.” She straightened, and the world tilted, going grayish-black for a moment, then righted itself. Bowie grabbed her elbow to steady her until everything came back into focus.The security guard looked like a boy scout with a gun. “Come inside the building, ma’am, until the police get here. I’ve already called them.”“I have to pick up my children.”“Is there someone you can call, Alayna?” Bowie asked.“No.” Who had time to make friends when you worked fifty hours a week and cared for three children? “They’re at my ex-husband’s house, and if I’m five minutes late…” He didn’t need to hear about the state of her relationship with her ex. Why would he care? After what she’d done to him, after what her father planned to do, and her brother had done, he’d probably think she deserved whatever she got.“Call him.” He handed her his phone. “I think an attempted kidnapping is a good enough reason for being late.”Her hands shook as she trailed a finger across the screen to open it and dialed the number. The phone rang several times, and no one answered. “They must be outside in the backyard.” Which didn’t ease her anxiety. She hoped someone was out watching the children. The pool was right there, just waiting for an accident to happen. And Rosa couldn’t swim without her floaties.“I’ll call Aaron’s cell.” She’d hear about that later, too. She dialed the number. The muscles in her shoulders and back tightened as she braced to defend herself. The phone went to voice mail after only three rings. If Aaron was playing at his passive-aggressive bullshit, she’d lose it when she saw him. She’d lose it even worse if something happened to her children while they were at his house.“No one’s answering.”“They’re probably outside grilling burgers. As soon as the police have taken your statement, you can go get them.”
If only he knew. It was never that easy.
If you're interested in Breaking Hearts, here's the blurb and the links:
Running into Bowie Rivera is the last thing Alayna Wieland expects. She searched for him for years, then tried to move on with her life, but never recovered from losing him. And now she has too much baggage to deserve another chance.
Alayna’s ex-husband embezzled millions from not one, but several criminal organizations, telling them Alayna has the info they need to recover the money. With her and her young daughters in the crosshairs, Bowie steps in to keep them safe.
The cops decide to use her and the children as bait to capture her ex. But her ex has plans...plans that may cost them the second chance both she and Bowie long for...and much, much more.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GkWKJw
B & N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/breaking-hearts-teresa-j-reasor/1128023953?ean=2940155147602
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/breaking-hearts-7
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/795572
Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/breaking-hearts/id1352431177?mt=11
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2Gk18Zq
Amazon Canada: https://amzn.to/2Idw6CU
I thought I'd remind you of my latest Paranormal Romance, DEEP WITHIN THE STONE (Book 2 of the Superstition Series) If you like a book that makes you laugh, cry, and howl at the moon in frustration, Deep Within the Stone is the one for you. My hero, though he's a gargoyle, is sexy and a true ALPHA. He may be a monster, but he's all man, too. The story is a Beauty and the Beast Tale for adults.
HERE'S AN EXCERPT:
Finn studied the sleeping woman while he waited for the sun to slip behind the mountains, and for night to fall. Her features, relaxed in slumber, were refined and delicate. Just a hint of pink tinged her cheekbones, and her brows formed a graceful arch. He studied the roundness of her chin, the fullness of her parted lips, and a sharp, poignant hunger to taste her lips rose in him.If she wakened to see his ugly face, alive and as monstrous in the flesh as he was in stone, it would surely frighten her to death.When her eyes opened, thick brown lashes fluttered as she blinked, then her attention focused on him. Would she recognize the change coming over him? He felt the magic awaken and begin dragging at him, trying to tear him out of the stone.She swung her legs over the side of the lounge chair, turned away, and stood, stretching. She climbed the steps and went inside just as the sun sank deep behind the mountains.Butterbean rubbed against Finn’s legs, arched his back, and meowed, begging to be picked up. Finn scooped him into his arms, and the cat bumped its head against his jaw. If nothing else had improved in his life, at least he had earned the cat’s affection.Four large wolves loped around the side of the house, their tongues lolling out. They came as far as the edge of the woods last night and waited for him, and tonight they were growing bolder.Butterbean began to growl deep in his throat, the hair rising on his back, his tail puffing out. The youngest of the wolves whined, intent on the cat.Using his arm as a springboard, Butterbean leaped free of Finn’s grasp, landed on the nearby table, jumped to the ground, and, running for all he was worth, sprinted across the yard. One of the wolves broke from the pack in pursuit, his haunches bunching as he took great leaps toward the cat.Finn roared, “Nay.” He ran forward and took to the sky. The easy flap of his wings seemed slow and laborious, but pushed him forward. He bore down on the pair. The wolf edged closer, his jaws open.Finn grasped the feline by the back of the neck and swung him up into his arms. The wolf leapt to snatch Butterbean from his grasp, missing the cat’s tail by a thumb’s width. The cat’s claws dug deep into Finn’s shoulder, and his hisses and growling cries of panic pierced the air.The porch light came on, and Genevieve rushed out onto the patio, facing off with the other three wolves with a wooden club of some kind. Finn’s roar of warning startled Butterbean, and his claws dug deeper, slashing down his shoulder and stomach. If he dropped the cat now, it might be injured, so he hung onto the animal as gently as possible and soared back toward the house.When Finn landed a short distance from her, Genevieve staggered back toward the door, dropping the club, which thudded against the concrete and bounced on the hard surface, setting up a hollow clatter.His deep-chested roar displaced the air and left it shimmering with sound as he landed between her and the wolves.“Begone! You are frightening my mistress.”The wolves turned and fled toward the woods, the fourth wolf racing to join them.Butterbean’s back claws dug as deep into his stomach as the foreclaws had his shoulder. The scent of his own blood, coppery and rich, wafted to him. Until the night before, it had been a long time since he suffered any kind of injury, and these scratches nipped and stung with equal vigor, just as the bullet nick had the night before.He soothed the cat with gentle strokes while he unhooked its claws from his skin.“You aren’t going to hurt my cat, are you?” Genevieve’s voice sounded breathy and weak, her breathing ragged, as she retreated toward what she called the studio.Strong emotion clamped a hand around Finn’s throat, and his eyes glazed with tears. He blinked to clear his vision. “Nay. I wouldna repay his affection by harming him.” He moved gingerly to turn so his nakedness would not further distress her. In the dim light, her face glowed, pale and featureless. Try as he might, he could not read her expression. “I mean you no harm either, mistress.”Silence reigned between them for several seconds.“Oh, God. This can’t be happening. I’m either hallucinating or dreaming.” Her voice climbed to a higher pitch.He kept his tone even, though he couldn’t control the rough, gravelly timbre of his voice. “I have oft thought the same, living the life of this creature.”She half fell, half sank onto the edge of the patio, as though the strength had left her limbs.“Ye dinna have t’fear me. I will leave if it is what ye wish.”Her voice was stronger when she asked, “Can you go?”His hope fell as quickly as it had risen, hollowing his belly.“I mean…can you permanently leave the base you perch on?”“No. I have tried, but I am always called back to it.”“Why?”“’Tis part of the magic that created me.” He fell silent for a moment. Surely, being a sculptor, she would understand and wish to protect the stone gargoyle, even if she wished to be free of the live one? “Without a guardian’s protection, while I am stone I am most vulnerable. I could be hammered into pieces. My greatest fear is t’come alive once the damage is done and be unable to die.”She leaned forward to brace her elbows on her knees and covered her face with both hands. When she finally dropped them, and used the hem of her shirt to wipe her face, he realized she was crying.“You–you’re bleeding.”“Aye. Butterbean was a wee bit frightened and dug his claws in.” He continued to stroke him. “He’s calming now.”He started toward her, but thought better of it, and bent to set the cat on its feet. Butterbean meandered over to Genevieve and rubbed against her in a bid to be picked up. She cuddled him close.“Thank you for saving him.”“You’re welcome. ’Tis instinct for wolves to chase anythin’ that runs from them. Butterbean has been generous with his affection, and I would have been distressed had he been harmed.” He would have a talk with the pack and encourage them to keep their distance in the future.“Are you friends with them?”“They have shared their food with me.”Genevieve pushed awkwardly to her feet, still clutching the cat. “I’ll get you some disinfectant to clean those scratches.”She was not screaming or beside herself with terror. But once she was locked inside the house, would she call the men who were here last night? Would they come back to kill or imprison him?Could their modern weapons do what swords, knives, and arrows were unable to do in years past? The bullet nick on his arm had healed as soon as he turned to stone, but had bled badly beforehand.He looked to the west where the wolves had disappeared into the forest. He wasn’t a member of their pack. They would not offer him protection, because it would put them at risk.
He had no pack, or flock, or clan to call on. He had outlived his family, his son, everyone in his clan. What great loss would it be if they killed him? Who would mourn his passing?
HERE'S THE BLURB:
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ
Amazon Author page: http://amzn.to/1j6OYPgBook Gorilla- http://www.bookgorilla.com/author/B0056ZRB7E/teresa-reasorBook Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/teresa-reasor
I hope you enjoyed the excerpts from my books! And I hope you're as excited about my new release as I am. Happy Reading! Teresa Reasor
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March 22, 2018
BREAKING HEARTS (Book 7 of the SEAL Team Heartbreakers) Excerpt 2
Part of the fun of writing romance is that you get to torture your characters with the promise of something they want and then jerk it away. And with three children to take care of, the cops constantly coming around, and Alayna's ex running around like a poison pen messing things up for them, my characters have plenty on their plates. And I just keep piling it on.... EXCERPT: “I remember being trapped in the house with them for days at a time while Papa worked. Maybe that made the logistics easier, but being isolated made me crazy. I dreaded going to Mexico every summer. I took off one time and stayed gone for three days to keep from going.”“What happened?”“When Moira finally found me, she beat the shit out of me and dumped me at the border. I had to call my father to come pick me up. I was twelve.” Alayna couldn’t imagine dropping her child off alone in a strange place and leaving him. What if he’d been kidnapped or killed? “I’m sorry, Bowie.” “It’s part of the past. And since my father died I haven’t been back. I haven’t seen Moira in three years, either. I send her money every couple of months to be sure that continues. Besides, that’s really the only thing she cares about anyway.”She understood what it was like for family to be a burden. She’d chosen to dump her own because of it. “It’s easy to block out what they’ve done as long as they’re out of sight, or you don’t have to communicate with them. But it doesn’t make the hurt go away.”His silence spoke louder than words. “I’m determined to be as good a mother as I can be. But after everything you went through, having to care for your brother and sister, I can’t imagine why you’d even give dating me a thought.”“I never blamed Carmelita or Ciro, Alayna. They had even less control over our lives than I did. Your kids aren’t an issue.” “They’re a lot of work. If we got truly involved, it would be a lot to take on— on top of what you already have going on in your life. Not to mention all this with Aaron. You need to give it some thought.” She nodded toward Rosa, now limp in her lap. “I’ll be right back.” She laid the toddler in the middle of the bed and pulled a lightweight blanket over her. Emilia and Addison played a board game at the coffee table, but she suspected they’d be nodding off in minutes. By the time she had everyone occupied, Bowie had cleaned up and was loading the dishwasher. It seemed all they did together was care for the girls or occupy them. Maybe that was why she hadn’t had a life outside of the children. It was so hard to find time for someone else when you already had three people demanding every part of you. But she wanted time with Bowie.She checked that the front door was locked, then went to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. Bowie grasped her hand and tugged her toward the back door. “Is something wrong?” she asked as soon as he pulled the sliding glass door shut behind them.“No.” He took the bottle of water from her and set it on the table. “I just wanted…five seconds alone with you without kids.” He looped an arm around her waist to bring her in close against him. “Just five seconds to show you that we’re already involved.”He cupped her chin to raise her face to him. The heat she read in his gaze set her heart to pounding. His lips covered hers in a soft kiss that drained the tension from her limbs and had her melting against him. He leaned back against the house and parted his legs to draw her in closer as the kiss deepened, heating up as their tongues touched and tangled. It had been so long since she’d been kissed with such passion. A responsive heat flushed her skin and triggered a tempting tingle in intimate places long untouched and unfilled. When thoughts of the past started to creep in, she quashed them by running a hand under Bowie’s shirt and caressing the smooth skin and taut muscles of his abdomen and chest. He felt so powerful, so male. The wiry teenager with an abundance of sex appeal had matured into a handsome hunk who practically radiated sex, but it wasn’t just the exterior that drew her. It was his patience and strength that sucked her right in. When his warm palm caressed her waist, her ribs, and cupped her breast, a sensual thrill raced through her, and her nipples beaded, hypersensitive and eager to be touched. He plucked at one with just the right amount of pressure, and rivulets of sensation trailed downward, building her need to an empty ache. His lips left hers to find the sensitive hollow between her shoulder and neck. His warm breath feathered her skin, and she shivered. She raked her fingers through his hair, recognized the coarse thickness of it, and turned her mouth to his. A slap on the glass door beside them caused her to jump. “Mommy?” Emilia’s voice traveled through the glass, though muffled.Bowie raised his head. She bit back a protest. His passion-sharpened features and the unfulfilled ache inside her gave her a jolt of regret. “I’m sorry,” she murmured as she pulled away and went to the door.“Mimi is on the phone, Mommy.” Alayna’s sensual high dropped so quickly her stomach tumbled, and she placed a hand against it. She pulled open the door and took the cell phone Emilia handed her.
If you're interested in BREAKING HEARTS here are the links and the blurb:
https://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Hearts-SEAL-Team-Heartbreakers-ebook/dp/B07B11Z17L/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/breaking-hearts-teresa-j-reasor/1128023953?ean=2940155147602
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/breaking-hearts-7
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/795572
https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/breaking-hearts/id1352431177?mt=11
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Breaking-Hearts-SEAL-Team-Heartbreakers-ebook/dp/B07B11Z17L/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1519690516&sr=8-3&keywords=Teresa+Reasor
https://www.amazon.ca/Breaking-Hearts-SEAL-Team-Heartbreakers-ebook/dp/B07B11Z17L/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1519690589&sr=8-1&keywords=Teresa+Reasor
The Blurb:
Running into Bowie Rivera is the last thing Alayna Wieland expects. She searched for him for years, then tried to move on with her life, but never recovered from losing him. And now she has too much baggage to deserve another chance.
Alayna’s ex-husband embezzled millions from not one, but several criminal organizations, telling them Alayna has the info they need to recover the money. With her and her young daughters in the crosshairs, Bowie steps in to keep them safe.
The cops decide to use her and the children as bait to capture her ex. But her ex has plans...plans that may cost them the second chance both she and Bowie long for...and much, much more.
Happy Reading:Teresa Reasor
March 16, 2018
BREAKING HEARTS Book 7 of the SEAL Team Heartbreakers available and an excerpt.
I am so excited to announce that BREAKING HEARTS (Book 7 of the SEAL Team Heartbreakers Series) is released. This is Bowie's book. Bowie is the heartthrobe of the team and of course I had to make his path to love especially difficult. So instead of giving him a lady to woo, I gave him an extra hurdle. This old flame has three children.
THE BLURB:
Running into Bowie Rivera is the last thing Alayna Wieland expects. She searched for him for years, then tried to move on with her life, but never recovered from losing him. And now she has too much baggage to deserve another chance.
Alayna’s ex-husband embezzled millions from not one, but several criminal organizations, telling them Alayna has the info they need to recover the money. With her and her young daughters in the crosshairs, Bowie steps in to keep them safe.
The cops decide to use her and the children as bait to capture her ex. But her ex has plans...plans that may cost them the second chance both she and Bowie long for...and much, much more.
An Excerpt
He moved past her to the refrigerator and got a bottle of water. His sleep pants, tied loosely, hung low on his hips, and his tank style T-shirt hugged his torso like a layer of skin. His shoulders looked a yard wide, the muscles in his arms bulging as he sat down across from her and cupped his water bottle in front of him.
THE BLURB:
Running into Bowie Rivera is the last thing Alayna Wieland expects. She searched for him for years, then tried to move on with her life, but never recovered from losing him. And now she has too much baggage to deserve another chance.
Alayna’s ex-husband embezzled millions from not one, but several criminal organizations, telling them Alayna has the info they need to recover the money. With her and her young daughters in the crosshairs, Bowie steps in to keep them safe.
The cops decide to use her and the children as bait to capture her ex. But her ex has plans...plans that may cost them the second chance both she and Bowie long for...and much, much more.
An Excerpt
He moved past her to the refrigerator and got a bottle of water. His sleep pants, tied loosely, hung low on his hips, and his tank style T-shirt hugged his torso like a layer of skin. His shoulders looked a yard wide, the muscles in his arms bulging as he sat down across from her and cupped his water bottle in front of him.
BREAKING HEARTS Book 7 of the SEAL Team Heartbreakers available for Preorder and an excerpt.
I am so excited to announce that BREAKING HEARTS (Book 7 of the SEAL Team Heartbreakers Series) is available for preorder and will be released April 9, 2018. This is Bowie's book. Bowie is the heartthrobe of the team and of course I had to make his path to love especially difficult. So instead of giving him a lady to woo, I gave him an extra hurdle. This old flame has three children.
THE BLURB:
Running into Bowie Rivera is the last thing Alayna Wieland expects. She searched for him for years, then tried to move on with her life, but never recovered from losing him. And now she has too much baggage to deserve another chance.
Alayna’s ex-husband embezzled millions from not one, but several criminal organizations, telling them Alayna has the info they need to recover the money. With her and her young daughters in the crosshairs, Bowie steps in to keep them safe.
The cops decide to use her and the children as bait to capture her ex. But her ex has plans...plans that may cost them the second chance both she and Bowie long for...and much, much more.
An Excerpt He moved past her to the refrigerator and got a bottle of water. His sleep pants, tied loosely, hung low on his hips, and his tank style T-shirt hugged his torso like a layer of skin. His shoulders looked a yard wide, the muscles in his arms bulging as he sat down across from her and cupped his water bottle in front of him.
THE BLURB:
Running into Bowie Rivera is the last thing Alayna Wieland expects. She searched for him for years, then tried to move on with her life, but never recovered from losing him. And now she has too much baggage to deserve another chance.
Alayna’s ex-husband embezzled millions from not one, but several criminal organizations, telling them Alayna has the info they need to recover the money. With her and her young daughters in the crosshairs, Bowie steps in to keep them safe.
The cops decide to use her and the children as bait to capture her ex. But her ex has plans...plans that may cost them the second chance both she and Bowie long for...and much, much more.
An Excerpt He moved past her to the refrigerator and got a bottle of water. His sleep pants, tied loosely, hung low on his hips, and his tank style T-shirt hugged his torso like a layer of skin. His shoulders looked a yard wide, the muscles in his arms bulging as he sat down across from her and cupped his water bottle in front of him.
November 7, 2017
Writing Military Heroes (What it takes)
Hello. I write military romantic suspense. Navy SEAL romantic suspense.
I had a leg up writing military characters because I’d lived the life for the first 14 years of my life. My father was a Marine for 24 years. During that time he was a member of the 1st and 3rd Marine Corps Battalions. He went through WWII, Korea, and Vietnam and served 2 tours of duty in each. He was on Iwo Jima when the flag was raised. He was a charter member of the Marine Corps rifle team, number 5 in the nation for 5 years. During that time we lived in San Diego, California, Quantico Virginia, Parris Island, South Carolina twice, and Millington Tennessee. I went to 9 schools in 12 years. And felt more at home on a military post than I did off of one.
That experience taught me what Military men were like.
From all that I learned two things. 1. There are good and bad in all people. Even military people. And 2. When you train men to be aggressive, to protect themselves and others, when your country asks them to take on the most soul searing responsibility of taking a human life, no matter the purpose behind it, you change that man in ways we civilians can only try to understand. Because of the numerous weighty responsibilities we place on their shoulders I also learned that heroes are not born they are self-made.
When you start to create a military character for your story keep in mind he wasn’t just born on the page a natural heroic figure with all the characteristics that come with it. He was forged into that person through his life experiences before the military ever became a part of his psyche and afterward. He might have had good experiences and bad. He might have lost a love one to disease or accident, or he could have experienced loss by being dumped at the altar. He could have been bullied in high school or faced prejudice or violence because of the color of his skin. Or he could have also been the quarterback of his high school football team and be a natural leader. It’s up to you to build that character from the ground up. The backstory of your character is as important as the things he faces on the battlefield because sometimes that backstory plays into how he’ll react to his training and to situations he faces afterward.
That backstory can help him or her bring just as much to the table in your romance and in the suspense angle of your book as their military training. So don’t rule out any part of his or her life. And don’t be afraid to write about it. Because when you write a military hero it’s important for you to write the whole person and not just the military persona you build in your imagination.
He’s a person and your reader will want to know that person and develop a relationship with him as they read his story.
Forging that relationship is the single most important thing you’ll do in writing any book. It’s what keeps the readers coming back. That’s why Series are so popular. Series can build a readership because your readers become attached to the characters in your stories and they want more about them with each book.
SEALs are divided into 8 man squads, 2 squads to a platoon. What makes them so unique (as apposed to other special ops teams) is they can be broken down into smaller units and still function independently because the men are all trained to be able to do the same things. They are all demolition experts, expert marksmen, expert swimmers and scuba divers, they can do battlefield medicine, they’re communication experts, Recon, and each team of four are called a fireteam.
Luckily I have 8 men in my SEAL squad and that has given me 8 books to write about them.And I allow my characters to visit with each other or walk on as part of my plot so my readers can learn that they haven’t stayed in a static environment when they haven’t been reading about them. They’ve gotten promotions, built relationships, had children done all the normal things human beings do, off stage, until they walk back into a book and become a part of the current story.
Readers want to know those things because they’ve bought into your world, into the lives of your characters. They want to see them succeed and live a full life. But they also want some conflict in their lives to spice things up.
Characteristics you want to give your character so he or she will become the hero your readers are looking for.
Courage – Nelson Mandela said, “Courage isn’t the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear. But your hero didn’t just wake up one day and say I’m going to be courageous today . He has to make a conscious decision to face danger instead of running from it.
From Breaking Free:
Damn thing fits like a coffin lid. Lieutenant “Hawk” Yazzie eyed the edge of what had once been the outer wall of a building balanced above him. Sweat trickled across his shoulder blade down his side. He thrust aside the claustrophobic pressure and focused on the two lookouts on the roof through night vision binoculars. They weren’t moving. Good. Come on, come on. A silhouette appeared in the second story window. The light behind the man gave the impression of broad shoulders and a stocky frame. The rifle slung over his arm, the firearm’s barrel pointed skyward, identified him as another hostile. Hawk squinted but couldn’t make out his features. He’d counted six men upstairs earlier. Was this one of them or someone new? Three clicks came over the radio. “Doc”, Zack O’Connor signaled he was finished and in position. Hawk pushed the call button on his radio in answer.
Where the hell were Cutter and Strong Man?
Derrick Armstrong, “Strong Man” broke radio silence. “We have a problem, over.”Hawk’s muscles tensed.
“C’s a no show, over,” Strong Man whispered.
Fuck. The last assignment of their tour, and fucking Murphy’s Law decides to kick in.
Hawk pressed the switch on his belt triggering his throat mike. “Cutter, come in, over.”
Damn it, Cutter, respond.
Silence.
“Last location, over?” Hawk asked.
“Ground floor. I thought he was right behind me, over.”
Hawk blinked the sweat from his eye.
“Five minutes, over.” Oliver Shaker, “Greenback”, their rear security, came across calm, level, reminding them they needed to get the hell out of here.God damn it. He’d never lost a man and Cutter wasn’t going to be the first. “I’m going back in for him, over.” Hawk shook free of his pack and slithered like a lizard from beneath the slab, pushing his submachine gun ahead of him and kicking up dust. There was always dust in this dry desert country. God, he was sick of it. He belly crawled to the cracked wall fifteen feet to his right. The rush of adrenaline pumping through his system thrust his heart into overdrive. He pushed to his feet behind a half wall still standing and glanced up at the second floor. Everything appeared still. All hell would have broken loose if they’d discovered Cutter. He was either trapped somewhere inside and waiting for an opportunity to escape or something worse. Shit. Hawk drew a deep breath and assessed the situation. He’d have to go up the street out of sight of the lookouts, go across, and work his way back. Keeping to the shadows next to the crumbled wall, he moved east down the strip of abandoned buildings. Gravel crunched just ahead. He dodged into a doorway and flattened himself against the wall. Shadows closed around him like a cocoon. A man strode by, a rifle held in the bend of his arm. He clasped a flashlight and projected a small golden circle on the broken sidewalk before him. Hawk withdrew his SOG knife and fell in behind the tango. Concrete debris crunched beneath his feet. The man started to turn. Hawk slit his throat and any sound he might have made strangled to a gurgle. Hawk caught him as he sagged, dragged the body to a doorway, and rolled it into the shadows. He took off his helmet, tossed it aside, and peeled off his tack vest. The cloying, coppery scent of blood hit him as he jerked the tango’s shirt free and put it on over his body armor. With his dark hair and skin, he’d pass for one of them. Maybe.
Hanging the MP-5 down his spine, he retrieved the MK-47 rifle and flashlight.
Seconds ticked by in his head like a metronome. Two minutes thirty seconds. His muscles jerked with his efforts to keep his pace to a stroll when everything in him urged him to run.
A voice called from the second story window asking if he’d seen anything. His heart rate surged.
Think.
Answer him.
He formulated an answer in the local Kurdish dialect. Sweat ran in itchy rivulets down his spine beneath the Kevlar vest that hugged his torso.
The man said something about a cold. Hawk grunted an agreement.
He thumbed off the rifle’s safety and putting his finger on the trigger, dodged into the building through the front door. The entrance opened into a dark, empty hallway. After a moment’s pause, he flipped on the flashlight and trotted down the hall to the fourth doorway on the left.A voice called from upstairs asking what he was doing. “Getting my ass blown up,” he murmured beneath his breath. He darted into the back storage room. Crates stacked nearly to the ceiling lined the walls. One crate stood open, straw spilt onto the floor around it. AK-47 rifles lay nestled inside. Intel was right. They had to get out of here.
Hawk flicked the flashlight back and forth as he worked his way through Cutter’s route.
A black piece of fabric sticking out from behind some furniture caught his attention and he jogged to it. Cutter lay crumpled into a ball behind a heavily carved cabinet, his helmet beside him. Blood coated the side of his head near his temple and pooled on the floor.Jesus. What the fuck happened? Hawk bent to check for a pulse. It beat weak and thready beneath his fingertips. He glanced at his watch. One minute. Fear ripped through him. His breathing grew labored. He laid the flashlight and rifle atop some crates and swung his MP-5 into position under his arm. Bending, he heaved Cutter’s limp frame up and over his shoulder. Forty-five seconds. Hawk’s stomach and back muscles grew taut as he adjusted to the one hundred and seventy pounds of limp weight with an effort. He poked his head out. The hall light flashed on. A tango blinked at Hawk in surprise. He shouted an alarm as he raised a pistol and closed the distance between them at a run. The forty-five automatic’s muzzle looked like a cannon. And sounded like one as the tango fired. Wood splintered from the door facing close to Hawk’s face. He swung the submachine gun up and pulled the trigger in a controlled burst. Red blossomed across the tango’s chest, the force of the bullets throwing him back against the wall. His body bounced off the surface then crumpled to the floor. Footsteps pounded above. What a clusterfuck. They were sitting ducks in the hallway. Hawk sprayed the hall light with bullets killing it, then sprinted down the hallway to the front door. The timer in his head counted off the seconds, thirty-five--. He leveled a short burst of fire at the doorknob and it flew open. He struggled through the opening. Bullets peppered the road and dogged his steps from above, ricocheting off the asphalt around him. Muzzle flashes exploded like sunspots in front of him as his men laid down suppressing fire. Another shot of adrenaline coursed through his veins making Cutter’s body seem like a featherweight as he zigzagged towards the cover of the crumpled wall he’d left five minutes before. A foot away from safety, the sky lit and his ears popped. The ground heaved throwing him up and forward. Cutter’s body flew through the air like a rag doll. The world came crashing down.
The next characteristics in building a hero are Determination, Focus, and Persistence.
Everything SEALs do or face in their training builds determination, focus, and persistence. SEALs have a motto. “The only easy day is yesterday.” It’s inspired because of the training they do in Bud/s and the success they work toward during Hell week.
If they allowed themselves to acknowledge they might fail, it would weaken their resolve and it would undercut their success. So they just refuse to acknowledge the possibility of failure and continue to work toward success and survival.
SEALs Never Give UP.
If you’ve read Lone Survivor by Marcus Luttrell, American Sniper by Kris Kyle , 13 Hours by Mitchell Zuckoff, or The Red Circle by Brandon Webb you immediately understand that everything they faced, every decision they made, is based on the odds of survival and the success of the mission. They have a mind set that refuses to allow them to give up or acknowledge the possibility of failure. And when a hint of failure arises, they are constantly working toward a solution that will secure their survival.
90 percent of what they do takes those three things Determination, Focus, and Persistence. It’s all about mental strength. If you read any of Dick Couch’s books on SEALs and SEAL training, that will become apparent to you.
10 percent is the physical training to keep them in shape and in expertise for their vocations: firearms, explosives, scuba, tactical training, and jump training. And each team has a medic and that teammate does extensive training to be prepared for any injuries sustained during a mission. They have an expert marksman, a sniper who has had extensive training it that. Each man of a team is an expert in some way. The other branches of the service go through the same types of training, only they don’t train as intensive as the SEALs.
SEALs Never leave a buddy behind. This is also a motto of many branches of the service. The SEALs just happen to have succeeded in never having a man captured or left behind living or dead. That tradition was forged during the French Indian war long before the SEALs were created.
One of the best stories I’ve ever heard came from a Navy SEAL from Team 2. One of the things that was drummed into us, beginning with the recruiting process (when I joined the teams you had to be invited by UDT/SEALs to the training; you couldn’t just walk up and say, “Dude, I want to go to BUDs”) was that “There has never been a SEAL captured or left behind, living or dead.”During our training, if a classmate or crewmate (we were divided into boat crews by height — since you spend a lot of time carrying those f*cking boats, that part makes sense) got hurt, if the injury was not life-threatening (and believe me, our instructors had a strange scale to measure what constituted life-threatening), then it was our duty to carry that person through the rest of the exercise while the instructors screamed into our ears — “There has NEVER been a SEAL captured or left behind, living or DEAD!”Sometimes, if no one got conveniently injured, an instructor would touch someone on the shoulder and say, “Your leg’s broken.” And the same drill would ensue with the appropriate screaming at us. Times were not adjusted to account for the extra effort, because there are no such adjustments on the battlefield. If you blew your time, your time was blown.In Quang Ngai (pronunciation Guong Guy)during a recon I caught a bullet in the hip. It blew off a chunk of my iliac crest and cracked my pelvis. The guys on my team did the usual bandaid-type first aid, rigged a stretcher, and humped my ass the hell out of there nearly eight miles to try and reach a place where the choppers could reach us to evacuate.I was hurting like hell. I was also feeling guilty for slowing my guys down, and feeling responsible since we were supposed to be avoiding contact and when the contact came, I had been “on point.” Eventually, when the pain and jostling had gotten to be more than I could stand — along with the guilt for being the cause of all this — I begged my guys to put me down and leave me with an M60 so I could at least slow down the folks chasing us.To my great relief they put me down and stopped the bouncing. To my surprise they all busied themselves digging the f*ck into a perimeter around me. I told them, “No, leave me. You guys get outta here.” I was greeted with seven guys shouting in my ear — “There has NEVER been a SEAL captured or left behind, living or DEAD!”My friend [name withheld] said, “If you die, everybody dies.” Faced with that choice I told them to pick me up and start the bouncing again. This time I sucked it the f*ck up and took it.I have no opinion of the “worthiness” of Bowe Bergdahl before, or since, his capture. That shit is way above any pay grade I ever held.If he was at any time on the field of battle like me, then it is my sworn duty to bring his ass home one way or another, even at the cost of my own life.That’s the f*cking rule, *ssholes. No. Exceptions. Ever.–Former Member SEAL Team 2
Conviction and Dedication All military personnel must remain dedicated to their training and to their cause. And there cannot be dedication without the conviction that they are doing right. They are there to support and protect their country and every man woman and child in it. Without that conviction and the dedication that comes from it we wouldn’t have a military.
Honesty and Loyalty. Loyalty to the country they serve. Loyalty to their brothers and sisters in arms. Loyalty and honesty to the people of the country they stand for.Don’t let the few headlines that emphasize the dropping of the torch by a few of our military personnel. There are thousands of others who haven’t lost their way and won’t. They should count far more than those who have.
Wisdom and Patience Comes with the seasoning of the soldier through experience and training. But it also comes through that Backstory I mentioned from the first.
Compassion AND SACRIFICE SEALs are sometimes sent into rescue situations to rescue hostages. Whenever those people need medical attention the medic of the team takes care of them until they can be transported to a medical facility. How much more compassion and courage could another person show than to put his life on the line for someone you didn’t even know. They will cover them with their own bodies during firefights and put their own life on the line to get them airlifted out to safety.
There are times when the US military goes on humanitarian missions and we have a hospital ship that can be sailed into ports to care for injured during natural disasters.
While in Afghanistan and Iraq many marine units were used as expeditiary forces to attempt to build better relationships with the locals and lets not forget the numerous units that helped train their armies to take over the fight against terrorists when we pulled out.
Also deployments can range from 6 months to 18 months depending on the branch of service, area of deployment and the reason for their deployment. My father was gone for 3 years during Vietnam and only came home for Christmas one time. The time military personnel lose with their families and friends is one of the highest prices they pay for their service. And lets not discount moving every 2 ½ to 3 years. Their kids grow and change, their wives or husbands become so independent or so emotionally distant there’s a power struggle when they come home or divorce papers waiting. I explore how those long separations can bring a marriage to the brink in Breaking Point.
Trish Marks fluffed her cap of straw-blond hair. This style would be easier to take care of than the longer one she’d worn forever. It was time for a change. She always ended up tying it back in a ponytail to keep it out of the way anyway. And it was just hair. If she decided she didn’t like it, she could grow it back.Too bad it didn’t make her feel any lighter.There was a weight dragging on her. The position of it didn’t register. She just knew it felt like she was being driven slowly, relentlessly into the ground.The weight of taking care of too many cases at work. The weight of the kids and all their activities, in school and out. The weight of the household, the yard work, the cooking, cleaning—everything.Sometimes when she lay in bed at night, with the empty spot beside her where Langley should be, her heart started pounding louder and louder, and she couldn’t catch her breath because of that density pressing down on her.The weight of having her husband deployed and in danger hurt the most. At least that particular issue was lifted somewhat. Langley was finally home. But he wasn’t entirely. Not yet.They were going through a longer than usual adjustment period. And part of it was her fault. She was feeling ragged out, stressed, and just plain resentful. She’d spent a lot more time in the bathroom talking herself out of biting his head off this time, too.Langley was patient with her. Too patient. She wanted them to have a screaming row, but instead they were silent because of the kids. Maybe if they hammered at each other with words it would end this heavy, stifling feeling.Especially right now, with Langley getting ready to leave for a two-week training. He just got back from a deployment, and his three weeks of leave hadn’t been long enough for them to put their family back together. And they’d exchanged some sharp words in the past few days.After fifteen years of marriage, she’d learned to deal with everything alone. But lately, with the added caseload heaped on everyone at the office, she couldn’t seem to get her feet under her.What was wrong with her? Why was she struggling so?Because her husband was gone more than half the year, and her son was acting out because he felt neglected by the one parent whose approval and attention he needed most.“Tad, stop it.” Jessica’s voice, strident and sharp, carried down the hall interrupting Trish’s thoughts.Like fingernails down a blackboard. Were there still blackboards in schools? She hadn’t seen any in the classrooms she visited in the last few years. They’d all gone to white boards or smart boards.“Taaaaadd.”Trish slipped on her shoes, went to the door, and looked down the hall. Tad’s shadow, elongated and skinny, was projected against the wall opposite Jessica’s bedroom door. Trish started down the hall.“You took my picture while I was practically naked, you little shit.” Her twelve-year-old son’s irate tone was worrying, and Trish lengthened her stride, instinctively knowing things were escalating.“I’m sick of you wandering into my bedroom any time you want. It’s my room. When the door is closed, stay out.”Trish reached the door just in time to see him raise the small camera Jessica got for her birthday two weeks earlier, and spike it down to the floor like it was a football and he just made a touchdown. She heard the crack of the device breaking at the same moment Jessica cried out. Her features were already crumpling as she rushed to pick up the camera.Shocked at the violence of his reaction, the willful destruction, Trish stared at him. When she found her voice she only managed, “Tad—”Anger still had a grip on him, and he shoved past her, stomped down the hall to his room, and slammed the door.Jessica dropped to the floor and cradled the camera against her. Her heartbroken sobs gave Trish’s own heart a hard pinch. Her daughter had been asking for a camera of her own for a year. The camera, the only thing she’d wanted for her birthday, was now her prized possession, and she’d been so careful with it.A small bit of plastic, part of the housing, crunched beneath Trish’s foot when she stepped into Jess’s room, and she flinched. The camera couldn’t stand up to Tad’s rage. That, too, gave her heart a jab.She crossed to her eight-year-old daughter, sat down on the floor, and gathered Jessica close. She rocked her and smoothed her dark brown hair back from her forehead, but managed to resist joining in with a few sobs of her own, though her eyes stung and her throat ached. Twenty minutes passed before Jessica’s crying subsided into hitched breaths.“Tad will be responsible for buying you a new camera.”Jessica used her T-shirt to wipe her nose. “It won’t be the same.”No. Trish didn’t think it would. It wasn’t the loss of the camera. It was her brother’s conscious desire to hurt her that Jessica would remember.“I deleted the picture, but Tad wouldn’t listen.” Fresh tears streamed down her face. “He hates me.”“No, he doesn’t. He’s just going through some changes because he’s getting older. He doesn’t want me in his room when he’s dressing either. Do you know what it means when I say you invaded his privacy?”Jessica nodded. “It means I opened the door while he was dressing and I shouldn’t have.”“Promise me you won’t do that again.”Jess’s chin wobbled, and more tears streamed down her cheeks. “I won’t.” She turned her face into Trish’s shirt, another sob escaping.She was such a sensitive child. She rarely did anything demanding discipline. The harshness of Tad’s actions would stay with her for a long time.The uncontrolled rage in his expression would stay with Trish.
And I haven’t mentioned the physical sacrifices a lot of our service members have given. In Breaking Boundaries my Marine, Cal Crowes, has lost part of a leg and has a prosthetic. I explore some of the struggles an amputee has getting back into dating.
He slouched on the end of the bed, pulled off his heavy work boots and socks, then paused to study his prosthetic foot for wear or damage. After an eight-hour shift, he needed a break from the device. His pulled down his jeans so he could reach the pressure valve on the side of the socket. He pushed it in and air entered the form cupping his stump. It broke the vacuum holding it in place, and he pulled his stump free. His jeans soon joined the overflowing work clothes in the hamper, and he sighed.Next he removed his sock and liner to allow the limb to breathe. He’d have to wash his liner and leave it to dry after his shower, one of the daily chores he attended to faithfully. By doing it, he made certain he didn’t develop any kind of skin infection.He’d grown used to seeing the barren end of his leg, and the scar where the skin and tissue had been stitched over the end of the bone. It was another thing to bare it to someone else. Any girl he was drawn to, before he ever asked her out, he worried whether she’d be able to handle the sight of his lower leg and foot being—gone.The military psychologist he saw on occasion said he made his amputation more difficult to accept by acting as though it was something to hide. But the guy didn’t realize how gut-wrenching it was to see the revulsion on a woman’s face when she saw it for the first time. His fiancée Stacy hadn’t stuck around for long after the unveiling at the hospital. And he’d been grateful. He had enough on his plate to deal with at the time, without having to shore up a reluctant girlfriend whose first instinct was to bail when shit hit the fan.The thought sent his mind straight to Kathleen O’Connor. She hadn’t bailed. She’d gotten right down on the platform and offered Julio a hand. Would a woman like her flinch from a little thing like a missing limb and some scars?
HUMILITY is possibly one of the most attractive qualities when writing military characters and in meeting serving service personnel. Most military personnel will share stories with other members of the service. But when it comes to sharing with the rest of us, they clam up. No one likes a braggart. And the man or woman who’s done the right thing at the right moment doesn’t need anyone to tell them thank you.
Now think about what the whole package would be like if you had a man or woman with those characteristics as your hero or heroin. Imagine what that character could bring to a romantic relationship or a suspenseful situation.
Now for the other characteristics. For all the comradery that being in the service creates for the men, women and their families (We have lifelong friends we’re still in touch with since my father retired and even since he passed away) Service members do have a bond with everyone they fight next to that their families share in a peripheral way. They really are a band of brothers and sisters. They have shared intense experiences that have bonded them.
From Breaking Boundaries:
Doc measured and recorded Flash’s catch on the board while Flash secured it in a large cooler. “Ladies we’re gonna need more than one of those if we’re going to feed the hungry hoard at Lang’s tonight,” Doc said. Cal cast his line again and felt the immediate tug as the bait was hit. The reel spun as whatever had latched onto the scrod ran with it. He flipped the spindle with his thumb and the reel abruptly stopped, but the force of it nearly jerked the pole out of his hand. Jesus, whatever he’d hooked was big. He cranked the handle and felt the pressure of trying to keep the line tight. He pulled back on the rod, the tip bowed as he forced the fish closer and reeled in the line. “Need any help over there, Cal?” Doc called.
“Not yet. Once I get him close in to the boat, I’ll yell.”
He took a seat in the lawn chair and braced his feet on the side ofthe boat. He took his time, working the fish in toward the vessel by short increments. Six minutes later he dropped his feet and stood, thinking surely he was close. A gray-blue shadow swam back and forth beneath the water, disappeared beneath the boat, bending the end of the rod down at an angle. Cal pulled up on the pole with steady pressure but didn’t try to reel in any more line. He waited for the fish to swim back out. As soon as he saw the shadow again he cranked the reel furiously. When he saw the size of the thing his breath caught. He had no idea how he’d kept it on the hook. “What is it?” Doc asked.
“I’ve hooked a yellowtail, and it’s big.”
Doc and Bowie reeled in their lines and laid aside their poles. “Jesus!” Doc exclaimed. “That fucker’s huge.”
“Too big to eat,” Bowie said. “That’s a mounting weight.”
“You want him mounted, Cal?” Doc asked, his green eyes gleaming with excitement.
“No. I’m not a trophy kind of fisherman. I usually eat what Icatch.” He could just imagine what Kathleen would have to say about a stuffed dead fish on his wall. “He’s too nice to turn loose. Imagine all those tuna steaks on the grill,” Doc said, rubbing his hands together. “Keep his head up so he can’t go back under the boat. Bowie and I will gaff him and get him on board.” Flash having reeled in his line wandered over to watch. “That might be a record, Cal. That sucker has to be at least five feet long.” He whipped out his cell phone and video’d the fish. Bowie got the longer gaff, while Doc got a shorter one. Doc leaned over the side in order to reach the tuna. Bowie hit the fish in the top of the head with the hook and held on while it thrashed. Blood poured into the water. Doc swung to get a hook on it, too. A large silver streak advanced on the yellowtail in a rush. Cal had only enough time to yell. “Shark!” A monster heaved up out of the water, jaws open, exposing razor sharp teeth. Its black eyes gleamed flat as it narrowly missed Doc’s arm and clamped down on the tuna from the side, shook its head with a frenzied fury and tore half of the yellowtail away. Doc’s hand slipped off the railing and he started to pitch headfirst into the water. Cal dropped the pole and dove for his legs, and managed to grab a calf and part of his shirt. He was hanging by a foot just above the water with the predator likely circling to take another bite. His head was brushing the water. Bowie jerked what was left of the tuna aboard and threw gaff and fish onto the deck, spreading blood across the polished wooden floor. “Jesus H. Christ, get me up!” A long string of colorful swear words followed. Bowie and Flash rushed to help. Bowie grabbed Doc’s arm and his belt while Flash fastened onto his other arm and his other leg. The three of them heaved him back onto the deck, and set him on his feet. He still held the gaff he’d been intending to use. Cal grabbed the rail to regain his feet. “You okay?” Breathing hard, Doc pushed his dripping hair back from his flushed face, his eyes wide. “Yeah.” As they watched, the sickle-like dorsal and tail of the shark whipped back and forth as it circled past the boat in search of more prey. “Shit!” Bowie whispered. Flash bent over what was left of the dead, mangled tuna. “Dude, you were robbed.” An hour later, they’d moved the boat to a different location and paused to eat the sandwiches and potato salad Cal and Kathleen fixed for their trip. They laughed again at Flash’s comment as he passed his phone around to view the video of Doc’s close call and as Bowie dubbed it “the great tuna tug-o-war.” “It seems saving people is getting to be a habit with you, Cal,” Doc commented. “I’ve just been at the right place at the right time a time or two. The shark would have been too full of my damn fish to munch on you anyway. But I didn’t think you’d want to get your clothes wet.” “That was damn considerate of you.” Doc nodded. “The water out here is cold as hell. Makes my balls shrivel up just thinking about it.” Cal grinned, more at ease with the low-key thanks than all the attention he’d gotten recently. He shrugged. “Just passing it on.” He realized he felt more relaxed with these guys than he did even with his building crew. They’d let him step back into the military brotherhood and just accepted him. “Kathleen said you were going to be on television this week.” Cal grimaced. “Yeah. Actually, it’s tonight. I got roped into doing an interview with Nora Harper, on Harping on the Truth. You were right about the video. We should never have posted it. I had to send her signed releases yesterday so she could use parts of it, but she’d already found it and put a link to it on her website. Women were leaving comments.” “What sort of video and what sort of comments?” Bowie asked. “It was just me at work doing stuff on the building site. But their comments were—suggestive.” “Man, you should eat that shit up,” Bowie said. Cal shook his head. “Not while I’m dating someone. I had Kathleen delete it and the comments.” He glanced at Doc. Doc nodded his understanding. “Speaking of videos. Flash my man, I’m going to have to ask you to keep the gem you recorded to yourself.” Flash looked up with a frown. “Why?” “Because I’ve been halfway around the world and dodged more than bullets at numerous times, in numerous countries and never had a scratch. That damn shark came closer to getting me than any terrorist. I don’t want my family to see it. Every time I go out on the boat they’ll be thinking Jaws is out to get me.” Cal laughed right along with the others. Doc pointed his finger at the man. “Do not post it on some social media site.” “I won’t.” Flash threw up a hand as though swearing in court. “But I will email you and Cal a copy. Cal needs proof of the size of that fish.”
I’ve concentrated on character because that’s the theme of my talk with you today. But there are some pesky organizational things you have to do while writing Military heroes. Create a book bible to keep everything organized. Use photos to help you write about locations, google maps, satellites, and go on trips to research the area if you can. You have to do research about their training, their MOS (or mode of service) so you’ll know what it is they do, where they’re stationed, and some of the hot spots they might be sent to. You’ll need to research their weapons, their modes of transportation, their uniforms, their ranks and their insignia. And keep up with current events because you never know when today’s headlines might inspire an idea for a book.
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Happy Writing and Reading
Teresa Reasor
October 30, 2017
RELEASE DAY FOR DEEP WITHIN THE STONE!!! READ ANOTHER EXCERPT
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!
It is RELEASE DAY for
Deep Within the Stone
!!! I'm so proud of the book. It's an Adult Beauty and the Beast tale. Here's the cover and the blurb and below is a new excerpt.
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
AN EXCERPT: A wolf came slinking out from the deepest part of the brush, possibly drawn by the smell of fresh blood. His hunger killed by his thoughts, Finn stayed motionless until she crept close. On a whim, he tossed the skinned rabbit to her. Her teeth gleamed white as she caught it in her strong jaws and bounded back into the brush.Finn slogged to the creek and washed his face and hands in the chilly water. He crouched there for several moments, drinking deeply, and then, looking up, noticed several pairs of eyes glowing from the underbrush. Wolves, possibly a pack. He eyed them with wary concern, then with interest.Could they end this for him? Could he remain unresisting while they attacked and devoured him? He folded his wings back and bent to rest his forehead against his knee and waited.The musky smell of their fur was familiar, and took him back hundreds of years. When he felt a muzzle brush against his arm, he froze, though every human instinct screamed at him to leap to his feet and run, and every monster instinct told him to fight and fly.Sounds came from behind him, wet and nauseating, while they gobbled up the innards of the rabbit. He raised his head a wee bit, and met the golden gaze of a huge wolf. For several seconds they froze, taking each other’s measure.The feral gleam he glimpsed in other animals’ eyes was absent. Instead, Finn saw a patient watchfulness. Testing the waters, he raised a hand and, curling his fingers so his sharp, lethal nails were tucked into his palm, extended the back of his hand to the beast.The wolf sniffed it and sat down.Stunned, the words “What are you?” burst from Finn. “Have ye been cursed like me?”The wolf shook himself as though to say no. He gave a short, sharp bark, calling his pack together. Finn watched in despair as they followed their alpha back into the woods.After that one brief contact, they had no interest in further congress with him. He rose and did the only thing left to him.He flew back to Genevieve’s house.Careful to avoid large patches of interior lights cast onto the lawn, Finn reached for one of the dingy cloths Genevieve used earlier to scrub his stony exterior. He poured some soap onto the cloth, then studied the knob connected to the garden hose. His overlarge hands, with their deadly claws, gripped the circular metal clumsily, but he managed to turn it.The sound of running water was evident, but none came out the end of the hose. He gripped the metallic thing preventing the water from pouring. He gave the lever a cautious squeeze, and cold water sprayed out, hitting him in the chest. With a grin, he sprayed himself down and wet the rag, delighting in the process of soaping his hair and body until he was covered with lather. He even soaped the parts of his wings he could reach, then sprayed himself down with the hose before giving a violent shake, scattering drops across the patio. There were so few pleasures left to him, but being clean and not smelling like an unwashed beast was one of them.After taking a long drink, he returned everything to its place and turned off the water. He had just moved to his spot on the patio when the door behind him opened. In a blink, Finn took his normal position. Only if she came close enough to touch him would she recognize the difference.Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her check the valve that controlled the water. She paused for a moment to scan the yard. His footprints stood out on the concrete and led right to him. His stomach tightened with part dread, part excitement. What would happen if she discover his secret? She would be terrified, horrified. But after that passed… He didn’t want to think about what she might do. All he knew was the truth of his existence had remained secret for too long.He tensed to stand, but hesitated when she followed the footprints and came to stand directly in front of him. She was too close. He did not want to frighten her.He breathed in the sweet scent lingering on her skin and gazed at the long, smooth length of her legs. Without the barrier of the window and the distance, they appeared softer, more well-muscled. The shorts hugged her buttocks and hips, outlining the womanly roundness. His body responded to the sight with a fierce joy and need, and he quickly closed his eyes to block out the sight.Should he approach her in such a state, she would be doubly terrified. He swallowed against a knot of despair. It took all his control to stay in position.“Just someone passing by, I suppose. They must have gotten a drink and then left,” she murmured to herself.Nearby, to the west, a wolf howled, and Genevieve caught her breath and swung around to look.She rubbed her arms, as though warming herself against a chill, then rushed back inside.Finn slumped in disappointment. He had been on the verge of alerting her to his presence before the wolf howled and she fled into the house.The wolves he concluded were not wolves at all. He stretched his wings and folded them around his body, not for warmth, for he was seldom cold, but because it provided him with a wee bit of comfort.
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KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/deep-within-the-stone
SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/747636http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ
DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS Book one of the series is just $.99.
Welcome to Superstition, Kentucky
Twins Miranda and Juliet Templeton have been haunted by childhood trauma their entire lives. One has the reputation for being bold and rash, the other compulsively responsible. When both are viciously attacked within minutes of each other, they are forced to leave their differences behind in order to survive.
Caleb Faulkner has always loved Miranda Templeton. Her letters to him, during his deployment gave him a slice of home to hold on to. Even though they’re finally together, something is keeping her from acting on her feelings. When she and her sister are injured Caleb’s driven to protect them both. But all his military training can’t help him combat this danger.
Detective Chase Robinson is lead investigator for the murder of Tanner Newton. When the two hired thugs responsible for Tanner’s death are killed and Juliet, his only witness, nearly strangled to death, Chase is certain the crimes are connected. He decides to stay close to the twins so he can catch the real killer. But his police training is useless against his growing feelings for Juliet and what’s hiding DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JR4LEzB&N: http://bit.ly/1PL7aEJSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/540897Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Kml5tDApple: http://apple.co/1F9L3TxGoogle Play: http://bit.ly/1H21xKNhttps://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/deep-within-the-shadows/id992730045?mt=11
I hope you enjoyed the excerpt and take advantage of the $.99 cent sale on Deep Within The Shadows.
Happy Reading,Teresa Reasor
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
AN EXCERPT: A wolf came slinking out from the deepest part of the brush, possibly drawn by the smell of fresh blood. His hunger killed by his thoughts, Finn stayed motionless until she crept close. On a whim, he tossed the skinned rabbit to her. Her teeth gleamed white as she caught it in her strong jaws and bounded back into the brush.Finn slogged to the creek and washed his face and hands in the chilly water. He crouched there for several moments, drinking deeply, and then, looking up, noticed several pairs of eyes glowing from the underbrush. Wolves, possibly a pack. He eyed them with wary concern, then with interest.Could they end this for him? Could he remain unresisting while they attacked and devoured him? He folded his wings back and bent to rest his forehead against his knee and waited.The musky smell of their fur was familiar, and took him back hundreds of years. When he felt a muzzle brush against his arm, he froze, though every human instinct screamed at him to leap to his feet and run, and every monster instinct told him to fight and fly.Sounds came from behind him, wet and nauseating, while they gobbled up the innards of the rabbit. He raised his head a wee bit, and met the golden gaze of a huge wolf. For several seconds they froze, taking each other’s measure.The feral gleam he glimpsed in other animals’ eyes was absent. Instead, Finn saw a patient watchfulness. Testing the waters, he raised a hand and, curling his fingers so his sharp, lethal nails were tucked into his palm, extended the back of his hand to the beast.The wolf sniffed it and sat down.Stunned, the words “What are you?” burst from Finn. “Have ye been cursed like me?”The wolf shook himself as though to say no. He gave a short, sharp bark, calling his pack together. Finn watched in despair as they followed their alpha back into the woods.After that one brief contact, they had no interest in further congress with him. He rose and did the only thing left to him.He flew back to Genevieve’s house.Careful to avoid large patches of interior lights cast onto the lawn, Finn reached for one of the dingy cloths Genevieve used earlier to scrub his stony exterior. He poured some soap onto the cloth, then studied the knob connected to the garden hose. His overlarge hands, with their deadly claws, gripped the circular metal clumsily, but he managed to turn it.The sound of running water was evident, but none came out the end of the hose. He gripped the metallic thing preventing the water from pouring. He gave the lever a cautious squeeze, and cold water sprayed out, hitting him in the chest. With a grin, he sprayed himself down and wet the rag, delighting in the process of soaping his hair and body until he was covered with lather. He even soaped the parts of his wings he could reach, then sprayed himself down with the hose before giving a violent shake, scattering drops across the patio. There were so few pleasures left to him, but being clean and not smelling like an unwashed beast was one of them.After taking a long drink, he returned everything to its place and turned off the water. He had just moved to his spot on the patio when the door behind him opened. In a blink, Finn took his normal position. Only if she came close enough to touch him would she recognize the difference.Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her check the valve that controlled the water. She paused for a moment to scan the yard. His footprints stood out on the concrete and led right to him. His stomach tightened with part dread, part excitement. What would happen if she discover his secret? She would be terrified, horrified. But after that passed… He didn’t want to think about what she might do. All he knew was the truth of his existence had remained secret for too long.He tensed to stand, but hesitated when she followed the footprints and came to stand directly in front of him. She was too close. He did not want to frighten her.He breathed in the sweet scent lingering on her skin and gazed at the long, smooth length of her legs. Without the barrier of the window and the distance, they appeared softer, more well-muscled. The shorts hugged her buttocks and hips, outlining the womanly roundness. His body responded to the sight with a fierce joy and need, and he quickly closed his eyes to block out the sight.Should he approach her in such a state, she would be doubly terrified. He swallowed against a knot of despair. It took all his control to stay in position.“Just someone passing by, I suppose. They must have gotten a drink and then left,” she murmured to herself.Nearby, to the west, a wolf howled, and Genevieve caught her breath and swung around to look.She rubbed her arms, as though warming herself against a chill, then rushed back inside.Finn slumped in disappointment. He had been on the verge of alerting her to his presence before the wolf howled and she fled into the house.The wolves he concluded were not wolves at all. He stretched his wings and folded them around his body, not for warmth, for he was seldom cold, but because it provided him with a wee bit of comfort.
THE LINKS: AMAZON: http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ
B & N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/deep-within-the-stone-teresa-j-reasor/1127095745?ean=2940154547915
APPLE: https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/deep-within-the-stone/id1282232538?mt=11
KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/deep-within-the-stone
SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/747636http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ
DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS Book one of the series is just $.99.
Welcome to Superstition, Kentucky
Twins Miranda and Juliet Templeton have been haunted by childhood trauma their entire lives. One has the reputation for being bold and rash, the other compulsively responsible. When both are viciously attacked within minutes of each other, they are forced to leave their differences behind in order to survive.
Caleb Faulkner has always loved Miranda Templeton. Her letters to him, during his deployment gave him a slice of home to hold on to. Even though they’re finally together, something is keeping her from acting on her feelings. When she and her sister are injured Caleb’s driven to protect them both. But all his military training can’t help him combat this danger.
Detective Chase Robinson is lead investigator for the murder of Tanner Newton. When the two hired thugs responsible for Tanner’s death are killed and Juliet, his only witness, nearly strangled to death, Chase is certain the crimes are connected. He decides to stay close to the twins so he can catch the real killer. But his police training is useless against his growing feelings for Juliet and what’s hiding DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JR4LEzB&N: http://bit.ly/1PL7aEJSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/540897Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Kml5tDApple: http://apple.co/1F9L3TxGoogle Play: http://bit.ly/1H21xKNhttps://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/deep-within-the-shadows/id992730045?mt=11
I hope you enjoyed the excerpt and take advantage of the $.99 cent sale on Deep Within The Shadows.
Happy Reading,Teresa Reasor
October 27, 2017
5 MORE DAYS AND DEEP WITHIN THE STONE WILL BE RELEASED!!
OCTOBER 31ST is the big day. Deep Within the Stone will be released. I'm so proud of the book. It's an Adult Beauty and the Beast tale. Here's the cover and the blurb and below is an excerpt.
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
AN EXCERPT
“I dinna ken why ye wish to draw me, lass. But ye’ve more than earned the right, since ye’ve fed and housed me these past weeks.”“You’ve brought me fish twice this week, and those mushrooms you harvested were perfect in the salad we ate tonight.”Finn looked up, and she caught the slight wrinkle of his nose.“Man cannot live by meat and potatoes alone, Finn. And don’t say you aren’t a man because, you’re ninety percent man and ten percent stubborn. When you become human again, you’ll have to start eating healthier, otherwise you’ll have a heart attack before you’re forty.”She pointed the stub of charcoal at him. “And don’t say you’re already older than that.” She glanced at him, studying the line of his jaw. “How old were you when you were…changed?”“A score and eight years. An old man for my time.”“Twenty-eight is young today. I’ll be twenty-seven my birthday.”“Ye would have been thought left on the bush if ye were rich. Comin’ from a landed family, yer husband would have been chosen for you and you would have been breeding within the year at seven and ten. Had ye had no resources, ye would have been thought a prize because ye have a skill, and the lads would have been hangin’ about ye, tryin’ to woo ye to the altar for what ye could bring to the marriage and the marriage bed.”“Seventeen, huh?” She felt a wave of outrage for those poor girls, forced into marriage with strangers while little more than children.His accent always thickened when he spoke of his home. “Aye. Sometimes older, if their athair was not in need of a political ally or some other binding situation.”“Why didn’t you want to settle down with one of the landed ladies? I’m sure your cousin could have found you one.”“Aye, he did, a widow, but she died of consumption before the banns were posted.”He spoke with such dispassion, she looked up. “I’m sorry, Finn.”“Life was harder then, and there were no medicines to fight disease as there are now. I would have been a better man then, had she lived, and I took responsibility for her property and the needs of her clansmen.”“You’re always so hard on yourself, Finn. You patrol my property to make certain I’m safe. You bring me freshly caught fish, mushrooms, wild greens. You make me feel… cared for.”“I am always at your service.” He raised his yellow-green gaze to her face. The look in his eyes had heat flaring in her face and an empty ache erupting between her thighs.“I need to concentrate on this. After you’ve been stationary all day, I don’t want you to have to remain so any longer than necessary. I’ve been working from photographs, but this will finish off my ideas.”He inclined his head, but continued to gaze at her for several moments.She focused on the paper before her as though it were the most important thing on earth. After half an hour, she said, “You can get up and move around now if you like.” He rose and stretched. The wide, muscular depth of his chest captured her attention, and her mouth dried. He turned to look over his shoulder at her, almost as if he knew what she was feeling, and she dragged her attention back to the drawing. She finished it and tore it off the pad, set it aside, then turned her attention to the portrait beneath.She had to learn to suppress these feelings. For several days, things had been awkward between them. She was wary of standing too close, for fear of giving away, yet again, how she felt when he was near. Every look seemed awkward.“Will ye show the drawing to me when ye’re finished?” he asked.“Yes. Of course. Will you mind if I use it for my next sculpture?”His brows shot up. “A sculptural copy of me like this?”“No. It isn’t. It’s as I see you. As you really are.” She put several finishing touches to the portrait, got up, and moved back to view it from a distance.“I would like to see it before I say aye or nay.”“All right.” She turned the full-length drawing of him so he could see it. It was of a man fighting his way free from an invisible force. The plan was to add the polymer clay to it as she had Mai’s. Mai’s was about looking to the future. Finn’s would be about fighting against an internal prison and overcoming it. The clay would bond one arm to the base, and the other would reach upward, with tatters hanging from it.She glanced up to find him studying the drawing. “Ye have left the face blank, lass.”She tore the portrait she’d done off the pad and placed it carefully atop the other drawing.He stared at the portrait and his throat worked as he swallowed. “’Tis a face I was once familiar with. How can ye see what was in the past?”“I know human anatomy and bone structure. Yours is camouflaged, but it’s there.”“Is it the man you see in the picture ye care about, or the monster before ye, Genevieve?”“You are one and the same, Finn.”“Nay. The monster is inside me as well as my shell. I have instincts I work to suppress that no human should have to fight. The urge to hunt, the need to pursue.”He limped closer. She had filed on the second nail from his big toe, and she should never have done it. He wasn’t healing as he had always done before, because she interfered with the magic.Why did his yellow irises so often appear green in the glare of the patio lights? Were his eyes changing color?“The need to take.”The way he said it brought visions of him coming inside her, and triggered an immediate, visceral reaction.His hands closed over her arms, and he brought her up against him, the hard heat of his erection pressed against her. He bent his head and nibbled at her throat, using careful pressure while his tongue feathered her skin.Genevieve moaned his name aloud. She ran her hands up his back to the joint of his wings. Finn shuddered and dragged in a breath. He thrust against her. “If I bite you, if I make love with ye, the magic may pass to ye. I winna let that happen.”He dragged himself out of her arms and took two stumbling steps back, then turned and raced across the yard, his wings spread. He rose into the sky.Genevieve bent at the waist and braced her hands on her knees. She couldn’t drag in enough air. Every muscle in her body jerked and shook with frustrated need. Her empathic abilities seemed to be growing stronger. She read his need, and it blended with hers as soon as she touched him. She bit her lip and forced herself to stand.As her passion cooled, the urge to weep overwhelmed her. Crying wouldn’t help, but now they’d opened this box, there’d be no way to close it.
Miranda and Juliet had to help them.
If you're interested in DEEP WITHIN THE STONE here are the links:
AMAZON: http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ
B & N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/deep-within-the-stone-teresa-j-reasor/1127095745?ean=2940154547915
APPLE: https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/deep-within-the-stone/id1282232538?mt=11
KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/deep-within-the-stone
SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/747636
DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS Book one of the series is just $.99.
Welcome to Superstition, Kentucky
Twins Miranda and Juliet Templeton have been haunted by childhood trauma their entire lives. One has the reputation for being bold and rash, the other compulsively responsible. When both are viciously attacked within minutes of each other, they are forced to leave their differences behind in order to survive.
Caleb Faulkner has always loved Miranda Templeton. Her letters to him, during his deployment gave him a slice of home to hold on to. Even though they’re finally together, something is keeping her from acting on her feelings. When she and her sister are injured Caleb’s driven to protect them both. But all his military training can’t help him combat this danger.
Detective Chase Robinson is lead investigator for the murder of Tanner Newton. When the two hired thugs responsible for Tanner’s death are killed and Juliet, his only witness, nearly strangled to death, Chase is certain the crimes are connected. He decides to stay close to the twins so he can catch the real killer. But his police training is useless against his growing feelings for Juliet and what’s hiding DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JR4LEzB&N: http://bit.ly/1PL7aEJ Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/540897Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Kml5tDApple: http://apple.co/1F9L3TxGoogle Play: http://bit.ly/1H21xKN https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/deep-within-the-shadows/id992730045?mt=11
I hope you enjoyed the excerpt and take advantage of the $.99 cent sale on Deep Within The Shadows.
Happy Reading,Teresa Reasor
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
AN EXCERPT
“I dinna ken why ye wish to draw me, lass. But ye’ve more than earned the right, since ye’ve fed and housed me these past weeks.”“You’ve brought me fish twice this week, and those mushrooms you harvested were perfect in the salad we ate tonight.”Finn looked up, and she caught the slight wrinkle of his nose.“Man cannot live by meat and potatoes alone, Finn. And don’t say you aren’t a man because, you’re ninety percent man and ten percent stubborn. When you become human again, you’ll have to start eating healthier, otherwise you’ll have a heart attack before you’re forty.”She pointed the stub of charcoal at him. “And don’t say you’re already older than that.” She glanced at him, studying the line of his jaw. “How old were you when you were…changed?”“A score and eight years. An old man for my time.”“Twenty-eight is young today. I’ll be twenty-seven my birthday.”“Ye would have been thought left on the bush if ye were rich. Comin’ from a landed family, yer husband would have been chosen for you and you would have been breeding within the year at seven and ten. Had ye had no resources, ye would have been thought a prize because ye have a skill, and the lads would have been hangin’ about ye, tryin’ to woo ye to the altar for what ye could bring to the marriage and the marriage bed.”“Seventeen, huh?” She felt a wave of outrage for those poor girls, forced into marriage with strangers while little more than children.His accent always thickened when he spoke of his home. “Aye. Sometimes older, if their athair was not in need of a political ally or some other binding situation.”“Why didn’t you want to settle down with one of the landed ladies? I’m sure your cousin could have found you one.”“Aye, he did, a widow, but she died of consumption before the banns were posted.”He spoke with such dispassion, she looked up. “I’m sorry, Finn.”“Life was harder then, and there were no medicines to fight disease as there are now. I would have been a better man then, had she lived, and I took responsibility for her property and the needs of her clansmen.”“You’re always so hard on yourself, Finn. You patrol my property to make certain I’m safe. You bring me freshly caught fish, mushrooms, wild greens. You make me feel… cared for.”“I am always at your service.” He raised his yellow-green gaze to her face. The look in his eyes had heat flaring in her face and an empty ache erupting between her thighs.“I need to concentrate on this. After you’ve been stationary all day, I don’t want you to have to remain so any longer than necessary. I’ve been working from photographs, but this will finish off my ideas.”He inclined his head, but continued to gaze at her for several moments.She focused on the paper before her as though it were the most important thing on earth. After half an hour, she said, “You can get up and move around now if you like.” He rose and stretched. The wide, muscular depth of his chest captured her attention, and her mouth dried. He turned to look over his shoulder at her, almost as if he knew what she was feeling, and she dragged her attention back to the drawing. She finished it and tore it off the pad, set it aside, then turned her attention to the portrait beneath.She had to learn to suppress these feelings. For several days, things had been awkward between them. She was wary of standing too close, for fear of giving away, yet again, how she felt when he was near. Every look seemed awkward.“Will ye show the drawing to me when ye’re finished?” he asked.“Yes. Of course. Will you mind if I use it for my next sculpture?”His brows shot up. “A sculptural copy of me like this?”“No. It isn’t. It’s as I see you. As you really are.” She put several finishing touches to the portrait, got up, and moved back to view it from a distance.“I would like to see it before I say aye or nay.”“All right.” She turned the full-length drawing of him so he could see it. It was of a man fighting his way free from an invisible force. The plan was to add the polymer clay to it as she had Mai’s. Mai’s was about looking to the future. Finn’s would be about fighting against an internal prison and overcoming it. The clay would bond one arm to the base, and the other would reach upward, with tatters hanging from it.She glanced up to find him studying the drawing. “Ye have left the face blank, lass.”She tore the portrait she’d done off the pad and placed it carefully atop the other drawing.He stared at the portrait and his throat worked as he swallowed. “’Tis a face I was once familiar with. How can ye see what was in the past?”“I know human anatomy and bone structure. Yours is camouflaged, but it’s there.”“Is it the man you see in the picture ye care about, or the monster before ye, Genevieve?”“You are one and the same, Finn.”“Nay. The monster is inside me as well as my shell. I have instincts I work to suppress that no human should have to fight. The urge to hunt, the need to pursue.”He limped closer. She had filed on the second nail from his big toe, and she should never have done it. He wasn’t healing as he had always done before, because she interfered with the magic.Why did his yellow irises so often appear green in the glare of the patio lights? Were his eyes changing color?“The need to take.”The way he said it brought visions of him coming inside her, and triggered an immediate, visceral reaction.His hands closed over her arms, and he brought her up against him, the hard heat of his erection pressed against her. He bent his head and nibbled at her throat, using careful pressure while his tongue feathered her skin.Genevieve moaned his name aloud. She ran her hands up his back to the joint of his wings. Finn shuddered and dragged in a breath. He thrust against her. “If I bite you, if I make love with ye, the magic may pass to ye. I winna let that happen.”He dragged himself out of her arms and took two stumbling steps back, then turned and raced across the yard, his wings spread. He rose into the sky.Genevieve bent at the waist and braced her hands on her knees. She couldn’t drag in enough air. Every muscle in her body jerked and shook with frustrated need. Her empathic abilities seemed to be growing stronger. She read his need, and it blended with hers as soon as she touched him. She bit her lip and forced herself to stand.As her passion cooled, the urge to weep overwhelmed her. Crying wouldn’t help, but now they’d opened this box, there’d be no way to close it.
Miranda and Juliet had to help them.
If you're interested in DEEP WITHIN THE STONE here are the links:
AMAZON: http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ
B & N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/deep-within-the-stone-teresa-j-reasor/1127095745?ean=2940154547915
APPLE: https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/deep-within-the-stone/id1282232538?mt=11
KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/deep-within-the-stone
SMASHWORDS: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/747636
DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS Book one of the series is just $.99.
Welcome to Superstition, Kentucky
Twins Miranda and Juliet Templeton have been haunted by childhood trauma their entire lives. One has the reputation for being bold and rash, the other compulsively responsible. When both are viciously attacked within minutes of each other, they are forced to leave their differences behind in order to survive.
Caleb Faulkner has always loved Miranda Templeton. Her letters to him, during his deployment gave him a slice of home to hold on to. Even though they’re finally together, something is keeping her from acting on her feelings. When she and her sister are injured Caleb’s driven to protect them both. But all his military training can’t help him combat this danger.
Detective Chase Robinson is lead investigator for the murder of Tanner Newton. When the two hired thugs responsible for Tanner’s death are killed and Juliet, his only witness, nearly strangled to death, Chase is certain the crimes are connected. He decides to stay close to the twins so he can catch the real killer. But his police training is useless against his growing feelings for Juliet and what’s hiding DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JR4LEzB&N: http://bit.ly/1PL7aEJ Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/540897Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Kml5tDApple: http://apple.co/1F9L3TxGoogle Play: http://bit.ly/1H21xKN https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/deep-within-the-shadows/id992730045?mt=11
I hope you enjoyed the excerpt and take advantage of the $.99 cent sale on Deep Within The Shadows.
Happy Reading,Teresa Reasor
October 9, 2017
Whisper In My Ear is Free!!!
Deep Within the Stone (Book 2 in the Superstition Series) will be out October 31st!!! But I have some of my other paranormal books and a short story on sale.
The first book of my Superstition Series DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS is on sale for $.99
Welcome to Superstition, Kentucky
Twins Miranda and Juliet Templeton have been haunted by childhood trauma their entire lives. One has the reputation for being bold and rash, the other compulsively responsible. When both are viciously attacked within minutes of each other, they are forced to leave their differences behind in order to survive.
Caleb Faulkner has always loved Miranda Templeton. Her letters to him, during his deployment gave him a slice of home to hold on to. Even though they’re finally together, something is keeping her from acting on her feelings. When she and her sister are injured Caleb’s driven to protect them both. But all his military training can’t help him combat this danger.
Detective Chase Robinson is lead investigator for the murder of Tanner Newton. When the two hired thugs responsible for Tanner’s death are killed and Juliet, his only witness, nearly strangled to death, Chase is certain the crimes are connected. He decides to stay close to the twins so he can catch the real killer. But his police training is useless against his growing feelings for Juliet and what’s hiding DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JR4LEzB&N: http://bit.ly/1PL7aEJ Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/540897Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Kml5tDApple: http://apple.co/1F9L3TxGoogle Play: http://bit.ly/1H21xKN
WHISPER IN MY EAR a stand-alone paranormal romance is FREE the rest of the month of October on Instafreebie. I hope you'll take advantage of the deal and go get it.
Injured as a child, mermaid Katrina Lawson has adapted to living on land among humans. Denied the comfort of her water world, she’s stripped of her ability to transform and to hear. But the promise of a cochlear implant offers her a ray of hope.
Drew Saunders is a creature no woman can resist: mystical, magical and musical. With a hum he can seduce women and make them slaves. When he meets Katrina he’s enthralled. But being unable to hear, she’s impervious to his charms. So he must work to build a relationship with her the human way.
Katrina’s doctor suspects there is more to her than scans and x-rays can detect. His obsessive fascination with her, places her and all aquatic species at risk, forcing her to make a horrible choice. Can she sacrifice the only true love she’ll ever know for the good of her species? https://www.instafreebie.com/free/Txur6
Whisper In My Ear has a surprise ending I think you'll like.
AN AUTOMATED DEATH is $.99. This story is not a romance but a ghost story.
After his wife’s death, clockmaker Alan Cartwright focuses all his energy on his work and his eight-year-old son, Brenton. Father and son bond by building a lifelike automaton, designed to resemble Brenton in looks and talent: The boy is an extraordinary artist. Before the automaton is finished, Brenton is run over and killed by a carriage driven by Sir William Tyndale, a decorated soldier and knight who lost his own wife and son during service in India. The accident leads to strange occurrences and an unholy obsession.
The automaton comes to life, communicating with Alan through written messages and drawings of the past and the future. Alan is convinced Brenton’s spirit possesses the machine and refuses to sell it. Sir Tyndale sees the likeness of his own dead son in the device and is determined to have it by any means.
Driven by grief and fatherly love, the two men are set on a collision course with the soul of a young boy trapped between them, and Brenton's reasons for possessing the automaton a mystery to them both.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1dHblMdSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/296564B& N: http://bit.ly/1okCCqiKobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/an-automated-death-steampunkApple: https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/an-automated-death-steampunk/id627335765?mt=11
And don't forget my newest release DEEP WITHIN THE STONE (BOOK 2 OF THE SUPERSTITION SERIES) will be released October 31st.
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/deep-within-the-stone-teresa-j-reasor/1127095745?ean=2940154547915
https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/deep-within-the-stone/id1282232538?mt=11
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/deep-within-the-stone
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/747636
I hope you'll take advantage of some of these deals.
Read on,Teresa Reasor
The first book of my Superstition Series DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS is on sale for $.99
Welcome to Superstition, Kentucky
Twins Miranda and Juliet Templeton have been haunted by childhood trauma their entire lives. One has the reputation for being bold and rash, the other compulsively responsible. When both are viciously attacked within minutes of each other, they are forced to leave their differences behind in order to survive.
Caleb Faulkner has always loved Miranda Templeton. Her letters to him, during his deployment gave him a slice of home to hold on to. Even though they’re finally together, something is keeping her from acting on her feelings. When she and her sister are injured Caleb’s driven to protect them both. But all his military training can’t help him combat this danger.
Detective Chase Robinson is lead investigator for the murder of Tanner Newton. When the two hired thugs responsible for Tanner’s death are killed and Juliet, his only witness, nearly strangled to death, Chase is certain the crimes are connected. He decides to stay close to the twins so he can catch the real killer. But his police training is useless against his growing feelings for Juliet and what’s hiding DEEP WITHIN THE SHADOWS.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JR4LEzB&N: http://bit.ly/1PL7aEJ Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/540897Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Kml5tDApple: http://apple.co/1F9L3TxGoogle Play: http://bit.ly/1H21xKN
WHISPER IN MY EAR a stand-alone paranormal romance is FREE the rest of the month of October on Instafreebie. I hope you'll take advantage of the deal and go get it.
Injured as a child, mermaid Katrina Lawson has adapted to living on land among humans. Denied the comfort of her water world, she’s stripped of her ability to transform and to hear. But the promise of a cochlear implant offers her a ray of hope.
Drew Saunders is a creature no woman can resist: mystical, magical and musical. With a hum he can seduce women and make them slaves. When he meets Katrina he’s enthralled. But being unable to hear, she’s impervious to his charms. So he must work to build a relationship with her the human way.
Katrina’s doctor suspects there is more to her than scans and x-rays can detect. His obsessive fascination with her, places her and all aquatic species at risk, forcing her to make a horrible choice. Can she sacrifice the only true love she’ll ever know for the good of her species? https://www.instafreebie.com/free/Txur6
Whisper In My Ear has a surprise ending I think you'll like.
AN AUTOMATED DEATH is $.99. This story is not a romance but a ghost story.
After his wife’s death, clockmaker Alan Cartwright focuses all his energy on his work and his eight-year-old son, Brenton. Father and son bond by building a lifelike automaton, designed to resemble Brenton in looks and talent: The boy is an extraordinary artist. Before the automaton is finished, Brenton is run over and killed by a carriage driven by Sir William Tyndale, a decorated soldier and knight who lost his own wife and son during service in India. The accident leads to strange occurrences and an unholy obsession.
The automaton comes to life, communicating with Alan through written messages and drawings of the past and the future. Alan is convinced Brenton’s spirit possesses the machine and refuses to sell it. Sir Tyndale sees the likeness of his own dead son in the device and is determined to have it by any means.
Driven by grief and fatherly love, the two men are set on a collision course with the soul of a young boy trapped between them, and Brenton's reasons for possessing the automaton a mystery to them both.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1dHblMdSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/296564B& N: http://bit.ly/1okCCqiKobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/an-automated-death-steampunkApple: https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/an-automated-death-steampunk/id627335765?mt=11
And don't forget my newest release DEEP WITHIN THE STONE (BOOK 2 OF THE SUPERSTITION SERIES) will be released October 31st.
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/deep-within-the-stone-teresa-j-reasor/1127095745?ean=2940154547915
https://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/deep-within-the-stone/id1282232538?mt=11
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/deep-within-the-stone
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/747636
I hope you'll take advantage of some of these deals.
Read on,Teresa Reasor
September 12, 2017
Deep Within The Stone Preorder, Excerpt, and Cover Reveal
This summer has been a very busy one. I feel like I've been on the road since March. I have one more trip to make before things settle down and I'll be able to hideout in my office and live my next SEAL Book. I mean write.
I'm thrilled to announce I've finished the second book of my Superstition Series. And I have a cover to share. I think it's gorgeous and my guy is just beautiful. This book is my take on a Beauty and a Beast love story. And I think it's both sweet, tormenting, and passionate. I found my Hero, Finn, both tortured and strong. I think my cover depicts that.
Release day will be Halloween. October 31st, 2017. And the book is available for preorder at $2.99. at Amazon: http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ As links for the preorder go live at Apple, Kobo and other venues I'll add them to this post.
In the meantime, here's the blurb and an unedited excerpt to wet your appetite. The Blurb:
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14thcentury gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
My editor has the entire 86,672 word book in her hands and is working hard. But I'm going to post an excerpt she hasn't edited yet.
A well-dressed man strode down the entrance foyer and paused to greet her and introduced himself as Mr. Jonathan Taylor. His face was narrow and his warm brown eyes had a hint of gold. His blond hair, a few inches too long to be considered traditionally immaculate, hung over his shirt collar and had her studying him with interest.“I’m Genevieve Warren.” She offered her hand. “I’m here to inquire about the gargoyle from the Dunvegan Castle grounds.”“Yes. My secretary notified me you’d be coming. I’ll get a bag for your umbrella and we’ll go down the hall. The statue is so heavy we wanted to keep it on the ground floor. We haven’t moved it to a room yet. But I’ve had it uncrated in the storage room at the back of the building. I hope you won’t mind viewing it there.”“No, not at all.” She studied the golden glow of the floor and the high ceilings while she waited for him to return. She slipped the umbrella into the plastic bag he handed her and walked along side him down a wide hallway. The storage area was well lit and had hand crafted shelves, some with slots where paintings could rest on their edge until they were hung. Reinforced shelving for pottery, ceramics, and other three dimensional artworks stretched against all four walls. Close to the large shipping bay doors was the gargoyle. She recognized him from the back. A tail curved around his muscular thigh, while his wings stretched up and back partially folded together. She had first seen the statue in the garden at Dunvegan Castle and asked about it. Years of exposure to the elements and nature had discolored and streaked the stone leaving it mottled. The pattern of weathering looked like melted candle wax, but it didn’t detract from the work. Genevieve circled to face the piece and was struck once again by the raw emotion depicted in the creatures face, a combination of torment and rage. He was ugly, yet she saw a dash of humanity in his features. It was that element that drew her. His expression had stuck in her thoughts long after she’d left the castle and moved on to her bed and breakfast there on the Isle of Skye.In medieval architecture of the Gothic period Gargoyles were used mostly as down spouts on the roofs to project water away from the buildings during rainstorms. To find a full sculpture of this kind was very rare. The owners had to want a fortune for it.But then again maybe not. Instead of being a curiosity and drawing the attention of the visitors on the castle grounds, she’d been told it had often frightened them because of the suffering depicted in his expression. He was life sized, and that in itself made him intimidating. Had he not been kneeling on one knee, he’d be at least six feet tall. Another oddity was the sculpture had impressive realistic sexual organs; something unheard of since gargoyles had always been depicted as sexually neutral though most gave the impression of being male. To find such nudity in a sculpture of that period was surprising. During the medieval era artists and society as a whole were focused on dissuading the populace from sin. Nudity of any kind in paintings and sculptures had been discouraged adamantly and was almost non-existent. In fact, she was surprised the sculpture hadn’t been defaced. “He of course needs to be cleaned, what with the pigeons having roosted on him and the natural weathering of the stone. The fact that he hasn’t been tended will work in your favor and the price will be adjusted.”“I’m a sculptor. I know how to clean stone,” she murmured taking in the shape of the gargoyle’s ears. They lay against his head and were pointed at the top which made him look a little like a Vulcan.” “A professional sculptor?” Jonathan Taylor asked.“Yes. I work in stone and wood.” “Genevieve Warren.” His brows rose. “I read an article in a magazine just recently about your work.”“You may have. It’s beginning to come along.”He smiled. “And they say the Scottish are masters of the understatement.” His accent had grown a little thicker. “I am part Scot and part French. My father’s family came from La Varenne, my mother’s family was from the Inverness area. That may be why I am always at odds with myself. May I touch him?” “Certainly.” He motioned with a long expressive hand.She stepped forward and knelt to cup the gargoyle’s snarling face in her hands. From her position, she gazed directly into his eyes. She read suffering in the narrowing of his lids, but also defiance and more than a glint of rage. A strange tumbling sensation attacked the pit of her stomach. His bunched jaw muscles felt almost real. For several moments she was content to caress the shape of his chin. The artisan who sculpted this was a master. She braced a hand against the muscular slope of his shoulder to rise. Her eyes followed the line of his wing caught in the moment when it had just started to flex.“What do you think about him?” “I think he’s so ugly he’s beautiful.” Taylor laughed. The pelt of thick wavy hair following the contours of the gargoyle’s head was strange as well. He was a chimera, part human, and part beast. She rested her hand upon his crown, tempted by the detail to smooth the disheveled strands. She stepped away to circle him again and study his wings. Bony fingers fanned from his shoulder blades and veins branched from the joint to trail through the thin membrane very similar to a bat’s. The detail was exquisite and would show up much better once he was cleaned. To his credit, Taylor stood by silently and didn’t attempt to pressure her for a sale. “How much are they hoping to get for him?” “Twenty thousand pounds. But there is a hitch”She raised her brows. She wasn’t surprised. “Historic Scotland will not allow any sculpture of the period to be sold outright, and transported to another country, but it can be put on permanent loan. So you would not be able to purchase him straight out, but pay for the right to have him relocated indefinitely.” So she would be paying twenty-five thousand US dollars to house and care for him but could not claim ownership because she lived in another country. Twenty thousand dollars she could use for materials to do more sculptures. Stone didn’t come cheap. But she could do some smaller things or work in wood to make up for the difference. Her work was moving well.She studied the gargoyle a few more moments. “The transport to get him home will cost me dearly,” she murmured. Possibly as much as five thousand. And then the transport from the ship to her studio another two or three. She was probably looking at close to thirty thousand, maybe more. She’d gone insane. She was going to spend as much for a sculpture as it would cost to house a family of four for a year in her neck of the woods. And he wouldn’t even belong to her.“They could easily get five times what they’re asking at auction and sell him to someone here in Scotland.” This statue was a one of a kind and would be well worth the money.Why was she so drawn to him? He wouldn’t fit in her studio with all her own work. He’d have to go on the porch outside her studio. The insurance would probably be astronomical. She cupped his cheek and felt the curve against her palm. He had to be fashioned after a real man. She’d do some research and find out. She bent and whispered in his pointed ear. “Do you want to come to America with me?”Taylor chuckled. She looked up and smiled again. “We can help you with the transport arrangements. We often ship things stateside via plane and ship.”“I’d appreciate that.” She reached inside her coat pocket and withdrew a business card with her name and contact information on it. “You sound very sure they’ll sell him to me.”“I can’t be completely certain, but they remembered your interest in him when you visited the castle, a few weeks back. ‘Twas from them I got your number. They seemed interested in giving you first dibs.”“If they decide my offer is enough, I’ll give him a good home and he’ll be in out of the rain and snow.” Taylor smiled, his light brown eyes alight with amusement. “You speak about and to him as though he’s alive.” “My own sculptures seem alive to me. I breathe life into them with my hammer and chisel. Whoever sculpted him,” She nodded toward the gargoyle. “Thought the same.” Taylor turned his attention to the statue with a thoughtful look. “Too bad they didn’t give him a more pleasant expression. But then he wouldn’t have scared away evil spirits nearly as well.”“He wouldn’t be nearly as interesting either.” Genevieve wandered toward the exit and Taylor turned to walk with her. “Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked.“I’ve taken up enough of your time and I’m sure you have other responsibilities waiting for you.”“Actually I’m through for the day and I’d be pleased if you’d join me. There’s an Italian restaurant just up the street.” He motioned for her to go ahead of him through the door. Genevieve studied his narrow face with its warm brown eyes and shaggy blond hair. A quick twinge of grief assailed her and she started to turn him down but hesitated. She’d only be in Scotland another three days. But it might be pleasant to spend an hour with an attractive man. She’d never see him again. And Simon her agent wasn’t here to warn her away from him, as he always did. They came to a stop in the entrance foyer. “Italian sounds good.”Taylor smiled his eyes alight with pleasure. “I’ll just get my coat and umbrella.
I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. And look for a Halloween release!!! I'm so excited about this book. I love my hero, the gargoyle, and there's an unexpected twist in the book I think you'll find as creepy as I did.
Read on,Teresa Reasor
I'm thrilled to announce I've finished the second book of my Superstition Series. And I have a cover to share. I think it's gorgeous and my guy is just beautiful. This book is my take on a Beauty and a Beast love story. And I think it's both sweet, tormenting, and passionate. I found my Hero, Finn, both tortured and strong. I think my cover depicts that.
Release day will be Halloween. October 31st, 2017. And the book is available for preorder at $2.99. at Amazon: http://amzn.to/2xY7clQ As links for the preorder go live at Apple, Kobo and other venues I'll add them to this post.
In the meantime, here's the blurb and an unedited excerpt to wet your appetite. The Blurb:
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14thcentury gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… and help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
My editor has the entire 86,672 word book in her hands and is working hard. But I'm going to post an excerpt she hasn't edited yet.
A well-dressed man strode down the entrance foyer and paused to greet her and introduced himself as Mr. Jonathan Taylor. His face was narrow and his warm brown eyes had a hint of gold. His blond hair, a few inches too long to be considered traditionally immaculate, hung over his shirt collar and had her studying him with interest.“I’m Genevieve Warren.” She offered her hand. “I’m here to inquire about the gargoyle from the Dunvegan Castle grounds.”“Yes. My secretary notified me you’d be coming. I’ll get a bag for your umbrella and we’ll go down the hall. The statue is so heavy we wanted to keep it on the ground floor. We haven’t moved it to a room yet. But I’ve had it uncrated in the storage room at the back of the building. I hope you won’t mind viewing it there.”“No, not at all.” She studied the golden glow of the floor and the high ceilings while she waited for him to return. She slipped the umbrella into the plastic bag he handed her and walked along side him down a wide hallway. The storage area was well lit and had hand crafted shelves, some with slots where paintings could rest on their edge until they were hung. Reinforced shelving for pottery, ceramics, and other three dimensional artworks stretched against all four walls. Close to the large shipping bay doors was the gargoyle. She recognized him from the back. A tail curved around his muscular thigh, while his wings stretched up and back partially folded together. She had first seen the statue in the garden at Dunvegan Castle and asked about it. Years of exposure to the elements and nature had discolored and streaked the stone leaving it mottled. The pattern of weathering looked like melted candle wax, but it didn’t detract from the work. Genevieve circled to face the piece and was struck once again by the raw emotion depicted in the creatures face, a combination of torment and rage. He was ugly, yet she saw a dash of humanity in his features. It was that element that drew her. His expression had stuck in her thoughts long after she’d left the castle and moved on to her bed and breakfast there on the Isle of Skye.In medieval architecture of the Gothic period Gargoyles were used mostly as down spouts on the roofs to project water away from the buildings during rainstorms. To find a full sculpture of this kind was very rare. The owners had to want a fortune for it.But then again maybe not. Instead of being a curiosity and drawing the attention of the visitors on the castle grounds, she’d been told it had often frightened them because of the suffering depicted in his expression. He was life sized, and that in itself made him intimidating. Had he not been kneeling on one knee, he’d be at least six feet tall. Another oddity was the sculpture had impressive realistic sexual organs; something unheard of since gargoyles had always been depicted as sexually neutral though most gave the impression of being male. To find such nudity in a sculpture of that period was surprising. During the medieval era artists and society as a whole were focused on dissuading the populace from sin. Nudity of any kind in paintings and sculptures had been discouraged adamantly and was almost non-existent. In fact, she was surprised the sculpture hadn’t been defaced. “He of course needs to be cleaned, what with the pigeons having roosted on him and the natural weathering of the stone. The fact that he hasn’t been tended will work in your favor and the price will be adjusted.”“I’m a sculptor. I know how to clean stone,” she murmured taking in the shape of the gargoyle’s ears. They lay against his head and were pointed at the top which made him look a little like a Vulcan.” “A professional sculptor?” Jonathan Taylor asked.“Yes. I work in stone and wood.” “Genevieve Warren.” His brows rose. “I read an article in a magazine just recently about your work.”“You may have. It’s beginning to come along.”He smiled. “And they say the Scottish are masters of the understatement.” His accent had grown a little thicker. “I am part Scot and part French. My father’s family came from La Varenne, my mother’s family was from the Inverness area. That may be why I am always at odds with myself. May I touch him?” “Certainly.” He motioned with a long expressive hand.She stepped forward and knelt to cup the gargoyle’s snarling face in her hands. From her position, she gazed directly into his eyes. She read suffering in the narrowing of his lids, but also defiance and more than a glint of rage. A strange tumbling sensation attacked the pit of her stomach. His bunched jaw muscles felt almost real. For several moments she was content to caress the shape of his chin. The artisan who sculpted this was a master. She braced a hand against the muscular slope of his shoulder to rise. Her eyes followed the line of his wing caught in the moment when it had just started to flex.“What do you think about him?” “I think he’s so ugly he’s beautiful.” Taylor laughed. The pelt of thick wavy hair following the contours of the gargoyle’s head was strange as well. He was a chimera, part human, and part beast. She rested her hand upon his crown, tempted by the detail to smooth the disheveled strands. She stepped away to circle him again and study his wings. Bony fingers fanned from his shoulder blades and veins branched from the joint to trail through the thin membrane very similar to a bat’s. The detail was exquisite and would show up much better once he was cleaned. To his credit, Taylor stood by silently and didn’t attempt to pressure her for a sale. “How much are they hoping to get for him?” “Twenty thousand pounds. But there is a hitch”She raised her brows. She wasn’t surprised. “Historic Scotland will not allow any sculpture of the period to be sold outright, and transported to another country, but it can be put on permanent loan. So you would not be able to purchase him straight out, but pay for the right to have him relocated indefinitely.” So she would be paying twenty-five thousand US dollars to house and care for him but could not claim ownership because she lived in another country. Twenty thousand dollars she could use for materials to do more sculptures. Stone didn’t come cheap. But she could do some smaller things or work in wood to make up for the difference. Her work was moving well.She studied the gargoyle a few more moments. “The transport to get him home will cost me dearly,” she murmured. Possibly as much as five thousand. And then the transport from the ship to her studio another two or three. She was probably looking at close to thirty thousand, maybe more. She’d gone insane. She was going to spend as much for a sculpture as it would cost to house a family of four for a year in her neck of the woods. And he wouldn’t even belong to her.“They could easily get five times what they’re asking at auction and sell him to someone here in Scotland.” This statue was a one of a kind and would be well worth the money.Why was she so drawn to him? He wouldn’t fit in her studio with all her own work. He’d have to go on the porch outside her studio. The insurance would probably be astronomical. She cupped his cheek and felt the curve against her palm. He had to be fashioned after a real man. She’d do some research and find out. She bent and whispered in his pointed ear. “Do you want to come to America with me?”Taylor chuckled. She looked up and smiled again. “We can help you with the transport arrangements. We often ship things stateside via plane and ship.”“I’d appreciate that.” She reached inside her coat pocket and withdrew a business card with her name and contact information on it. “You sound very sure they’ll sell him to me.”“I can’t be completely certain, but they remembered your interest in him when you visited the castle, a few weeks back. ‘Twas from them I got your number. They seemed interested in giving you first dibs.”“If they decide my offer is enough, I’ll give him a good home and he’ll be in out of the rain and snow.” Taylor smiled, his light brown eyes alight with amusement. “You speak about and to him as though he’s alive.” “My own sculptures seem alive to me. I breathe life into them with my hammer and chisel. Whoever sculpted him,” She nodded toward the gargoyle. “Thought the same.” Taylor turned his attention to the statue with a thoughtful look. “Too bad they didn’t give him a more pleasant expression. But then he wouldn’t have scared away evil spirits nearly as well.”“He wouldn’t be nearly as interesting either.” Genevieve wandered toward the exit and Taylor turned to walk with her. “Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked.“I’ve taken up enough of your time and I’m sure you have other responsibilities waiting for you.”“Actually I’m through for the day and I’d be pleased if you’d join me. There’s an Italian restaurant just up the street.” He motioned for her to go ahead of him through the door. Genevieve studied his narrow face with its warm brown eyes and shaggy blond hair. A quick twinge of grief assailed her and she started to turn him down but hesitated. She’d only be in Scotland another three days. But it might be pleasant to spend an hour with an attractive man. She’d never see him again. And Simon her agent wasn’t here to warn her away from him, as he always did. They came to a stop in the entrance foyer. “Italian sounds good.”Taylor smiled his eyes alight with pleasure. “I’ll just get my coat and umbrella.
I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. And look for a Halloween release!!! I'm so excited about this book. I love my hero, the gargoyle, and there's an unexpected twist in the book I think you'll find as creepy as I did.
Read on,Teresa Reasor
September 5, 2017
An Excerpt from Breaking Free (Book 1 of the SEAL Team Heartbreakers)
I'm working on the 7th book of my SEAL Team Heartbreakers Series BREAKING HEARTS. I already have the cover (to be introduced later). And I've been plotting this thing for a while now. Bowie is the true heartbreaker of the team and I've decided he needs to fall hard. He's possibly the most complicated character in the series because of his backstory. (I'll say that while I'm writing him until I get to the 8th book, Derrick Armstrong's story) But until I get BREAKING HEARTS done, I thought I'd publish excerpts from the other books each week. Of course I have to start with the first book published in 2011. It doesn't even seem possible that I've written 5 more books and 2 novellas for the series since then but I have. And there will be 2 more full lengths before the series will transition to another SEAL Team.
That being said... here's an excerpt from Breaking Free (Book 1 of the SEAL Team Heartbrearkers Series)
Zoe heard her mother’s door close down the hall and struggled to rise from the bed. She couldn’t sleep until things were settled between Hawk and her. She wouldn’t be able to stay under his roof, if they didn’t try to reach some kind of understanding.Her leg ached as she made her way back down the hall to the kitchen. The exterior door stood open to the porch and she stopped at the threshold and scanned the room.Hawks arms stretched along the edge of the hot tub and his head was tilted back against a cushion. Ropy, well-defined muscles stood out in his neck, shoulders, upper arms, and chest. Though she knew every muscle, had anyone asked her to recite the names at this moment, she wouldn’t have been able to identify a single one. Black hair dusted his chest just above the waterline. The size and strength of him awed her. The beauty of him stole her breath and made it hard for her to swallow. She forced air into her lungs and tried to block off the physical response that made it difficult for her to focus.She took two decisive steps into the room. “I didn’t want to go to bed without settling things between us.”His lids rose, his pale gray gaze fastening on her face for a moment before they slid downward over the faded sweat pants and cropped t-shirt she wore. He homed in on the two-inch band of bare skin just above her waistband, and a tempting tingle arrowed downward. Her knees grew weak. How could he make her hot and wet with just a look?“I wondered when you’d be back to bust my chops.” He sat up from his reclining position. “I was out of line earlier.”Surprise kept her silent for a moment. “I’m not here looking for a boyfriend. I’m here for Brett.”“I know that.”“I’m not a flirt or a tease either.”“If what I said led you to believe I thought that, Zoe, you’re mistaken. I’m sorry.”He hooked his hands upon the rim of the tub and hiked himself up on the wide tile edge around it.After the first glimpse of a rock hard six-pack bisected by a thin line of hair that disappeared beneath a brief black swimsuit, she averted her gaze. She wandered to the screen door to focus her attention outside until she could get her breathing under control.“My concern wasn’t just about the cohesive condition of my team, Zoe. I was concerned about you, too.”Sure. The only blip she made on his radar screen was as a possible problem for him or his team.“The men have been pressuring you.”“They’d be that way with any woman who came within their scope. It’s the male way of being friendly. Because I’m Brett’s sister, they’ll tease and flirt, but they’re not really serious about pursuing me.” She forced herself to face him, just to prove to herself she could do it and still breathe.Hawk probed her expression. “I heard Bowie ask you out, and it didn’t sound like he was just interested in flirting.”Her cheeks grew hot. “I’m sure he’s used that same line, and his killer dimples, with great success on any number of women. I didn’t take him seriously.”His frown set his features in lines of masculine aggression. “Why not?”She’d learned the hard way that men were only interested in girls who could keep up with them. To him and his men, a five-mile run was probably a cakewalk. There were days, walking across the room was like running a marathon for her.“I’m not interested in a temporary relationship.”“Who’s to say it would be?”If she’d harbored any hopes he was the least bit interested in her, he’d just doused them. That was a good thing. He was doing her a favor. Being involved with a military man wasn’t what she needed anyway. Seeing Brett in his condition offered her enough heartache already.She leaned back against the door facing and studied his expression. “Are you encouraging me to go out with Bowie?”“No.” A frown drew his brows into a V above the bridge of his nose setting his features into intimidating lines. She wondered what he would be like truly angry. Probably scary as hell.“I’m glad you’re not trying to tell me what to do because we both know I’ll do as I please.”A warning glint lit his pale gray gaze as their eyes met. Just when she began to grow concerned they were about to have words again, a smile broke across his features and he laughed.“How’s the knee?” she asked, changing the subject. “You’ve been on it a lot today.”“It’s feeling better after a few minutes in the hot tub. Why don’t you join me?”Even knowing he meant nothing by the invitation, her pulse hammered at her throat and wrists. A fantasy of all that smooth skin and hard muscle, wet and warm beneath her hands, flashed through her mind. “I haven’t got a bathing suit.” She hoped her voice sounded normal.“Then come in, in what you have on now,” he suggested. “You could cut your sweats off into shorts so the water can circulate around your legs.”Though tempted, too many painful past experiences triggered a feeling of panic that made it hard for her to swallow.She forced a smile to her lips. “And ruin the fashion statement I’m trying to make,” she teased.“We’ll pick a bathing suit up tomorrow at the PX then.”“I have other things to spend my money on right now, Hawk.”“I’ll spring for it. You can’t come to California and not have a bathing suit. This is the surf, sand, and sun state.”She couldn’t meet the challenge she read in his gaze; she’d learned that the hard way. “I appreciate the offer, Hawk, but I probably won’t have any time to enjoy the surf and sun and I’m certainly not too fond of sand.”“It isn’t one of my favorite things, either, since BUD/S training.” He pushed off the rim of the hot tub back into the water. “You could lie down on the lounge and talk to me while I soak.”She hesitated, torn between the inexplicable attraction he held for her, and her need to keep him at a distance. The more time she spent with him, the more difficult it would be to ignore her response to him. And what if he discovered how she felt? Her stomach rolled and she placed a hand against it.She turned to find him watching her and her legs grew weak.“It could be dangerous for you to stay in the hot tub alone,” she said as she stretched out on the lounge and drew a pillow beneath her head. “There have been instances of people being overcome by the heat of the water and drowning.”“That would certainly be an ironic end to my SEAL career. You’d better stick around.”His droll tone made her laugh. She wiggled and turned on her side. She intercepted a smile that softened his features and brought an answering one to her lips.As hard as he tried not to look, Hawk’s attention rested on that thin strip of pale skin visible beneath the bottom of her cropped t-shirt. He ached to reach out and follow the hollow dip of her belly to her navel with his fingers, then his lips. The drawstring dangling just below her belly button seemed to be giving directions. His gaze followed the round curve of one breast clearly defined beneath her t-shirt as she tucked her hands beneath her cheek. He found the combination of sensual young woman and innocence tempting as hell. He drew a deep breath and, closing his eyes, tilted his head back against the cushion again. Maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t in the water with him. He’d grown hard as a torpedo and the possibilities were just too explosive.
The Blurb: When Lieutenant “Hawk” Yazzie rescues Ensign Brett “Cutter” Weaver during a mission in Iraq, his faith in his team’s loyalty is shaken. Someone in the team attacked Cutter and left him for dead. But who?
Zoe Weaver races to her brother Brett’s bedside. He stood by her while she fought her way back from a devastating injury, and she’s determined to do the same for him. Though drawn to Hawk’s good looks and steady strength, she’s reluctant to get involved with a man in uniform. But with Brett lying in a coma, Hawk may prove the key to what happened to her brother.
Hawk is torn between loyalty to his men and his need to see justice done. When he tries to save a troubled teammate’s career, he unwittingly puts Zoe’s life in danger. Can he lead the rest of the team in a rescue operation to save her? Or will one of Hawk's brothers in arms destroy the woman he loves?
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1PIXrxOB&N: http://bit.ly/1hfIGTahttps://www.smashwords.com/books/view/67404APPLE https://itunes.apple.com/ie/author/teresa-j.-reasor/id824016149?mt=11KOBO: http://bit.ly/1y8VxsfGoogle play: http://bit.ly/1KFpqJFhttps://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/breaking-free/id452726491?mt=11
I hope you enjoyed my excerpt. Thanks so much for stopping by my blog. And I'd love to hear from you.
If you'd like to sign up for my newsletter http://bit.ly/I7TtiC or follow me on my Author page on Amazon http://amzn.to/1j6OYPg you'll know when my next book will be out.
The next book will be DEEP WITHIN THE STONE. I'm hopeful it will be out for Halloween since it's a paranormal romantic suspense.
I have a fantastic cover created by Tracy Stewart my fantastic cover artist.
Here's the blurb:
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
Read on!Teresa Reasor
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That being said... here's an excerpt from Breaking Free (Book 1 of the SEAL Team Heartbrearkers Series)
Zoe heard her mother’s door close down the hall and struggled to rise from the bed. She couldn’t sleep until things were settled between Hawk and her. She wouldn’t be able to stay under his roof, if they didn’t try to reach some kind of understanding.Her leg ached as she made her way back down the hall to the kitchen. The exterior door stood open to the porch and she stopped at the threshold and scanned the room.Hawks arms stretched along the edge of the hot tub and his head was tilted back against a cushion. Ropy, well-defined muscles stood out in his neck, shoulders, upper arms, and chest. Though she knew every muscle, had anyone asked her to recite the names at this moment, she wouldn’t have been able to identify a single one. Black hair dusted his chest just above the waterline. The size and strength of him awed her. The beauty of him stole her breath and made it hard for her to swallow. She forced air into her lungs and tried to block off the physical response that made it difficult for her to focus.She took two decisive steps into the room. “I didn’t want to go to bed without settling things between us.”His lids rose, his pale gray gaze fastening on her face for a moment before they slid downward over the faded sweat pants and cropped t-shirt she wore. He homed in on the two-inch band of bare skin just above her waistband, and a tempting tingle arrowed downward. Her knees grew weak. How could he make her hot and wet with just a look?“I wondered when you’d be back to bust my chops.” He sat up from his reclining position. “I was out of line earlier.”Surprise kept her silent for a moment. “I’m not here looking for a boyfriend. I’m here for Brett.”“I know that.”“I’m not a flirt or a tease either.”“If what I said led you to believe I thought that, Zoe, you’re mistaken. I’m sorry.”He hooked his hands upon the rim of the tub and hiked himself up on the wide tile edge around it.After the first glimpse of a rock hard six-pack bisected by a thin line of hair that disappeared beneath a brief black swimsuit, she averted her gaze. She wandered to the screen door to focus her attention outside until she could get her breathing under control.“My concern wasn’t just about the cohesive condition of my team, Zoe. I was concerned about you, too.”Sure. The only blip she made on his radar screen was as a possible problem for him or his team.“The men have been pressuring you.”“They’d be that way with any woman who came within their scope. It’s the male way of being friendly. Because I’m Brett’s sister, they’ll tease and flirt, but they’re not really serious about pursuing me.” She forced herself to face him, just to prove to herself she could do it and still breathe.Hawk probed her expression. “I heard Bowie ask you out, and it didn’t sound like he was just interested in flirting.”Her cheeks grew hot. “I’m sure he’s used that same line, and his killer dimples, with great success on any number of women. I didn’t take him seriously.”His frown set his features in lines of masculine aggression. “Why not?”She’d learned the hard way that men were only interested in girls who could keep up with them. To him and his men, a five-mile run was probably a cakewalk. There were days, walking across the room was like running a marathon for her.“I’m not interested in a temporary relationship.”“Who’s to say it would be?”If she’d harbored any hopes he was the least bit interested in her, he’d just doused them. That was a good thing. He was doing her a favor. Being involved with a military man wasn’t what she needed anyway. Seeing Brett in his condition offered her enough heartache already.She leaned back against the door facing and studied his expression. “Are you encouraging me to go out with Bowie?”“No.” A frown drew his brows into a V above the bridge of his nose setting his features into intimidating lines. She wondered what he would be like truly angry. Probably scary as hell.“I’m glad you’re not trying to tell me what to do because we both know I’ll do as I please.”A warning glint lit his pale gray gaze as their eyes met. Just when she began to grow concerned they were about to have words again, a smile broke across his features and he laughed.“How’s the knee?” she asked, changing the subject. “You’ve been on it a lot today.”“It’s feeling better after a few minutes in the hot tub. Why don’t you join me?”Even knowing he meant nothing by the invitation, her pulse hammered at her throat and wrists. A fantasy of all that smooth skin and hard muscle, wet and warm beneath her hands, flashed through her mind. “I haven’t got a bathing suit.” She hoped her voice sounded normal.“Then come in, in what you have on now,” he suggested. “You could cut your sweats off into shorts so the water can circulate around your legs.”Though tempted, too many painful past experiences triggered a feeling of panic that made it hard for her to swallow.She forced a smile to her lips. “And ruin the fashion statement I’m trying to make,” she teased.“We’ll pick a bathing suit up tomorrow at the PX then.”“I have other things to spend my money on right now, Hawk.”“I’ll spring for it. You can’t come to California and not have a bathing suit. This is the surf, sand, and sun state.”She couldn’t meet the challenge she read in his gaze; she’d learned that the hard way. “I appreciate the offer, Hawk, but I probably won’t have any time to enjoy the surf and sun and I’m certainly not too fond of sand.”“It isn’t one of my favorite things, either, since BUD/S training.” He pushed off the rim of the hot tub back into the water. “You could lie down on the lounge and talk to me while I soak.”She hesitated, torn between the inexplicable attraction he held for her, and her need to keep him at a distance. The more time she spent with him, the more difficult it would be to ignore her response to him. And what if he discovered how she felt? Her stomach rolled and she placed a hand against it.She turned to find him watching her and her legs grew weak.“It could be dangerous for you to stay in the hot tub alone,” she said as she stretched out on the lounge and drew a pillow beneath her head. “There have been instances of people being overcome by the heat of the water and drowning.”“That would certainly be an ironic end to my SEAL career. You’d better stick around.”His droll tone made her laugh. She wiggled and turned on her side. She intercepted a smile that softened his features and brought an answering one to her lips.As hard as he tried not to look, Hawk’s attention rested on that thin strip of pale skin visible beneath the bottom of her cropped t-shirt. He ached to reach out and follow the hollow dip of her belly to her navel with his fingers, then his lips. The drawstring dangling just below her belly button seemed to be giving directions. His gaze followed the round curve of one breast clearly defined beneath her t-shirt as she tucked her hands beneath her cheek. He found the combination of sensual young woman and innocence tempting as hell. He drew a deep breath and, closing his eyes, tilted his head back against the cushion again. Maybe it was a good thing she wasn’t in the water with him. He’d grown hard as a torpedo and the possibilities were just too explosive.
The Blurb: When Lieutenant “Hawk” Yazzie rescues Ensign Brett “Cutter” Weaver during a mission in Iraq, his faith in his team’s loyalty is shaken. Someone in the team attacked Cutter and left him for dead. But who?
Zoe Weaver races to her brother Brett’s bedside. He stood by her while she fought her way back from a devastating injury, and she’s determined to do the same for him. Though drawn to Hawk’s good looks and steady strength, she’s reluctant to get involved with a man in uniform. But with Brett lying in a coma, Hawk may prove the key to what happened to her brother.
Hawk is torn between loyalty to his men and his need to see justice done. When he tries to save a troubled teammate’s career, he unwittingly puts Zoe’s life in danger. Can he lead the rest of the team in a rescue operation to save her? Or will one of Hawk's brothers in arms destroy the woman he loves?
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1PIXrxOB&N: http://bit.ly/1hfIGTahttps://www.smashwords.com/books/view/67404APPLE https://itunes.apple.com/ie/author/teresa-j.-reasor/id824016149?mt=11KOBO: http://bit.ly/1y8VxsfGoogle play: http://bit.ly/1KFpqJFhttps://itunes.apple.com/ie/book/breaking-free/id452726491?mt=11
I hope you enjoyed my excerpt. Thanks so much for stopping by my blog. And I'd love to hear from you.
If you'd like to sign up for my newsletter http://bit.ly/I7TtiC or follow me on my Author page on Amazon http://amzn.to/1j6OYPg you'll know when my next book will be out.
The next book will be DEEP WITHIN THE STONE. I'm hopeful it will be out for Halloween since it's a paranormal romantic suspense.
I have a fantastic cover created by Tracy Stewart my fantastic cover artist.
Here's the blurb:
THE BEAUTY…
Like Michelangelo, gifted sculptor Genevieve Warren believes her purpose is to set free the beings she can sense trapped inside the stone she carves. But she’s never had a sculpture speak to her like the rare 14th century gargoyle left out in the elements to crumble in a castle garden. Because of Scottish antiquity law, she can’t buy him, but she leases him and has him shipped home. However, she’s left to wonder why his owners are so eager to get rid of part of their history.
THE BEAST…
Finlay MacLeod has spent centuries as a monster. Stone by day and beast at night, he craves an escape from the endless loneliness of his existence. When Genevieve cares for the stone sculpture as though he’s real, he hopes he’s found someone who will care for the monster imprisoned inside it, too… help him end his suffering. But first he must reveal to her he’s alive.
THE CURSE…
Genevieve becomes aware there are mystical things afoot when she’s told dark magic surrounds the sculpture she’s imported. The reality of what she’s welcomed into her life is more fantastic and compelling than anything she could have imagined.
But there’s more than one kind of monster prowling the hills and valleys of Superstition. One has decided that only Genevieve can feed his many hungers. He’s watching, waiting, and moving closer every moment.
Read on!Teresa Reasor
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