Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 343

Do You Believe in Ghosts? Guest Blog-Tiger Lily by Wende Dikec

It was a dark and stormy afternoon (really – I’m not making that up), and we’d just settled down for our morning session in the English as a Second Language class I was teaching at a local university. I looked outside, at the rain pelting the window, and decided the atmosphere was just right to discuss one of my favorite subjects.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” I asked.
One of my students, a young woman from Thailand who’d once been one of the Royal Thai Dancers, raised her hand. “I do.”
In case you’re wondering what the Royal Thai Dancers look like, here’s a picture. My student didn’t wear this outfit to our class, though. Just FYI. She had on jeans and a pink t-shirt.


Some of the other students snickered, but the student from Thailand (I’ll call her Thai-nee Dancer), sat up straighter in her seat. “I do believe in ghosts…because once, in my village back in Thailand, one attacked my sister.”
Lightning struck outside, making everyone in the room gasp. The lights flickered. It had suddenly become the perfect setting for a scary ghost story.
Thai-nee Dancer held us enraptured as she told her tale. “The ghost was a phi ka, a hungry ghost. It tried to eat my sister’s soul.”
Her eyes were huge. “My mother had always told us to keep all the windows and doors closed at night, especially during a storm. My sister didn’t listen. She opened her window and the ghost got in.”
As the wind howled outside, the rest of the class stopped snickering. They were completely enthralled by Thai-nee Dancer’s story.
“What happened?” asked an older lady from Slovakia.
Thai-nee Dancer shook her head sadly. “It nearly killed her. We had to call a Shaman to do an exorcism. To make the ghost go away. It worked, but my sister was never the same. It…changed her.”
Suddenly the floodgates opened, and every student had a story to share. A Mexican student told us about El Día de los Muertos, The Day of the Dead. A man from Morocco shared stories of djinn and the spirits of the desert. All the students had stories from their home countries, and all had a similar thread.
To sum it up neatly: ghosts and other supernatural beings are scary. It doesn’t matter where you’re from. It doesn’t matter what language you speak. The idea of spirits walking the earth creeps people out.
And lots of people believe in ghosts. Even if they scoff at the idea on an intellectual level, on a very basic and visceral levels, ghosts give people the willies.

In my book Tiger Lily, the first ghosts my main character Lily Madison sees are black fuzzy orbs. She doesn’t even realize that the shapes are ghosts at first. She calls them “blobs.”


As I wrote Tiger Lily, I thought about Thai-nee Dancer and her story about her sister, and I started researching Asian ghost stories. The Chinese story of èguǐ, the Hungry Ghost, reminded me of Thai-nee’s ghosts, and it fit my storyline perfect. It was exactly the right ghost to use in my book. And the festival I talk about in my book is a real thing as well. It takes place in many different Asian countries. Here is a photo from the Hungry Ghost Festival in Phuket.

Is it true? Is there really such a thing as a Hungry Ghost? My student from Thailand certainly believed in it. She swore she saw it with her own eyes.
You be the judge. But may I suggest something? The next time it’s a dark and stormy night, and the wind howls outside, you might just want to close all your doors and windows. Just to be on the safe side.




Tiger LilyWende Dikec
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
Date of Publication: January 13, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-939590-59-6 (ebook)ISBN: 1939590779 (paperback)ASIN: B018A6N548
Number of pages: 156Word Count: 56,000Cover Artist: Najla Qamber
Book Description:
Lily Madison thought dying because of a bad manicure was the worst thing that could happen. She was wrong.
Waking up in the hospital and realizing she's being stalked by an entire herd of naughty little ghosts turns her entire world upside down. She begins to doubt her own sanity until she realizes she isn't alone. A Goth girl, named Zoe, can see the ghosts, too.
Most of the ghosts look like fuzzy blobs, but one is not blobby at all. He's a very hot, very annoying dead guy named Nick. Although they dislike each other on sight, Nick soon realizes Lily is his only hope. With the help of Zoe and Mr. Wan, the manicurist who almost killed her, she has only days to get Nick and the other ghosts back where they belong or the whole world will be in terrible danger.
But sending the ghosts back means saying goodbye to Nick forever, and Lily isn't sure she'll ever be able to let him go.
Amazon      Kobo      Barnes and Noble
"First Wende Dikec grabs you with her fresh writing, then she keeps you in the throes of her story with an incredible voice and a gifted talent for spinning tales that will amaze and delight. I am stunned. Tiger Lily will consume you, and before you know it you are fighting for air yet begging for more. You've been warned!" --NY Times Bestselling Author Darynda Jones


Excerpt: I died because of a bad manicure. It wasn’t a nasty fungal infection from the manicurist using dirty equipment, or a cut that allowed deadly bacteria to creep under my skin and rot me from the inside out. I died because on impulse I let Mr. Wan of Wan Fine Lady Nail Salon paint my nails a color called Pretty and Pink.With my red hair and pale skin, pink is tricky, but I trusted Mr. Wan. When he told me, “New color, big discount for you, Lily Madison,” I didn’t realize he actually meant, “Bad color, nobody else wants it.”I’ve never been a risk taker. My idea of living on the edge was not having an extra bottle of hand sanitizer in my purse. I knew the pink would be a mistake, but I ignored my inner voice. I guess the smell of acetone and the hum of the nail dryers had lulled me into such a relaxed state that I didn’t realize how awful the color actually looked until I drove home in the BMW my parents had given me for my sixteenth birthday.Pretty and Pink was false advertising, but as I learned long ago in my ninth grade science fair project, neither the government nor the FDA regulates the names of nail polish colors. I didn’t have a case, but I felt extremely upset.I didn’t see the ice cream truck stopped in the middle of the road. I was staring at my nails, wishing I’d gone with my first choice, Princesses Rule!, a frosty pale pink that would have enhanced my natural skin tone. I glanced up just in time to narrowly avoid hitting the truck and several small children caught in a snow-cone-induced feeding frenzy.It’s funny how accidents happen in slow motion. I remember the shocked faces of the people on the street as I swerved and flew over a small embankment. Someone screamed, and it took me a full second to realize the high-pitched wail came from my own mouth. I’d started screaming the minute I’d steered away from the ice cream truck, screamed some more as my car became an airborne missile, and continued screaming until it landed in the deep, murky waters of Lake Eugene.I tried to open my door, but it refused to budge. My windows wouldn’t roll down either. I pressed the buttons anyway, even the one on the dashboard to turn on the radio, but none of them worked except my hazard lights. I didn’t know I had hazard lights, although I’d read all about them in my driver’s ed class. They blinked on and off, illuminating the darkness around me with an eerie, red, pulsating beacon.I unbuckled my seat belt and searched for something to break a window with, but couldn’t find anything. I swung my purse at it, pounded it with the heel of my shoe, and even tried stabbing it with my nail file. I reached for my phone to call for help, but it was too late.
As the car filled with water and I gasped for air, the last thing I saw was that awful color on my nails as I scratched and clawed at the window until my fingers bled and everything turned black. As I died, I thought about my parents, and my friends, and all the things I would never get to do, and the fact that Mr. Wan had just lost his very best customer due to his own negligence. I hoped he would be sorry. Thinking about how bad he’d feel gave me just a little peace before I slipped away into darkness.
About the Author:
Wende Dikec has spent her life traveling the world, and collecting stories wherever she visited. She writes in several romance genres, and her books are quirky, light, and fun. Fluent in several languages and married to a man from Istanbul, Wende is a trekkie, a book hoarder, master of the Nespresso machine, and mother of three boys. A puppy named Capone is the most recent addition to her family, and she blogs about him as a way of maintaining what little sanity she has left.
http://www.wendedikec.com
https://www.facebook.com/wendedikecwriter
https://twitter.com/WendeDikec
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14735786.Wende_Dikec
https://www.pinterest.com/wendedikec/
http://wendewrites.tumblr.com
https://www.instagram.com/wendedikec/


Tour giveaway

Sign up for Wende’s newsletter for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card  https://madmimi.com/signups/177092/join

When Social Media Becomes Too Social with Allaina Daniels

This blog post belongs to the category called, Life as seen by Allaina Daniels.
I love Social Media.  It keeps me in touch with relatives that live across the country and friends who are just as busy as I am. You know, when you are great friends but rarely get the chance to take off your mommy hats and sit with each other while laughing about the antics of your children and spouses. It is also great for connecting with other authors, new readers, bloggers, reviewers, and Frands.  (Fan turned friend.) 
But I want to take a moment to talk about a few instances of weird and awkward social media behaviors. 
1.     When did it become the norm for people to become automatically upset by a difference of opinion?  As humans, none of us will always think the same way.  Our experiences are rarely 100% the same.  So different opinions are normal.  For example: If you adore the color black but someone else doesn’t because it is the color of car that ran over their cat, it is ok.  People are welcome to love things that you don’t.  They are welcome to hate things that you love.  Respect their choice, (as long as they are not harming anyone.) and agree to disagree.  There is already enough strife and drama in the world.  Don’t stir the pot.
2.    Can someone explain to me why it has become socially acceptable for people of the opposite sex that you went to high school with to ask you about your relationship or marriage?  How is this anyone’s business?  Especially some random acquaintance that you shared a Spanish two class with.  My marriage is solid as is my aim with a gun.  Quit fishing around this married woman.  You have been warned. Oh and, it is never ok to message a person to try and get them to divulge the details of their sex life. Stop.
3.    Overly aggressive online vendors are probably one of the most awkward and annoying things I deal with. It is fine to send me an invite to a party for slimming products, nail wraps, make-up, dishes, etc.  But please, for the love of God, don’t continue to send messages and invites after I have already clicked not going.  I saw what you were up to.  I am so happy that you love the business that you have joined.  I wish you success and happiness.  Now stop trying to pressure me into buying the product you are pushing.  I mean seriously, it is like you are screaming “Hey, you look a little chubby.  Try this product and you won’t be fat.”
4.    If your name is anything like: rjejejerrjeebdfe.  I am not accepting your friend request.  I am not clicking the link you tagged me in.  In the words of Gandalf – “You shall not pass!”
5.    Online friendships are wonderful, but neglecting the living, breathing people that are right where you are is not healthy.  Don’t forget to love the people who love you with more than a good morning text.  Live in the moment and hug your family, it will make you happier.
These things are completely and utterly nerve wrenching.  Just stop.  Instead, be accepting, mind your own garden, take the first “no” for what it is… NO, don’t be a phishing robot, and don’t undervalue your real life friendships.

InfinityXandrian Circle SeriesBook OneAllaina Daniels
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Romance
Date of Publication: Aug 2015
ISBN: 9781516804696ASIN: B012UF5K2A
Number of pages: 370 printWord Count: 97k
Cover Artist: Isaiah Bowling
Book Description:
Professional animal trainer, Carmen Rockwell, is happy living her life on the edge of society. She owns a high profile business that is run by her best friend, Lissy, the only person she thinks she needs in her life. Because of an unusual gift, she is the best in the country at what she does.
She goes away for work and finds herself suddenly drawn into a new world- one that she never knew existed and against her will, it follows her home, demanding that she enter into the life she was destined to live.
An important date is approaching fast, but will she turn away from this new world and hide or will she face her fate head on? One man could make all the difference- but does he love her or is she only a means to an end?
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/X3x7J4isLLY
Amazon Kindle     Amazon Print
Chapter 1
North Georgia 2005
Gabriel Vorrian was miserable. His business was steady, but boring. His surroundings were just a little better than spartan, and his quality of life was less than stellar; but he supposed it was his own fault. He had given up on ever finding true peace and happiness. When someone had been around as long as he had, day-to-day life just became one, long stretch of monotony. He was nearing his nineteenth decade; and although his body was just as healthy and strong as the day he turned twenty-nine—exposing his timeless, Xandrian heritage—his mind was worn out.He looked around his modestly-sized home and grimaced. He could live in a much nicer place, but why bother? The small, two-room cabin was livable and suited his needs, providing him with the basic necessities, even if they weren’t exactly comfortable. Not aging in a typical fashion dictated a move every ten years or so, but this place was his solution to that. There were no neighbors, and only the most intrepid visitor would attempt to trek the steep, two-mile hike of the driveway—if one could call it that. It was more of a narrow trail with massive overgrowth which barely accommodated one compact car. There was a dangerous, rickety bridge that went over a furious river about three-quarters of the way up. Once there, if the solitude didn’t turn someone away, the interior would perhaps convince all but the most well-meaning to leave.There were no family photos, no pieces of artwork, and no signs of a person with a life - just wood and the most basic of amenities. He moved in eleven years ago and had never taken the time to unpack. The place was a realm of utter chaos and disorganization. There were clothes everywhere and stacks upon stacks of papers. Sighing, he bent over one stack and began sorting it into piles at a languid pace. He stopped when one particular piece caught his attention.It was a postcard with peaceful waters on one side and a note on the other. His hand shook as he read the familiar script:
Even the faithless deserve the peace that all people crave and would die for. You still have time; continue your search.
He set it down in the to-be-thrown-out pile, sighing and rubbing his face with both hands. With a sudden spurt of anger, he sent the whole thing flying across the room with one, tormented swipe of a large, long-fingered hand. Didn’t they realize that he had lost hope a long time ago? The grim reality of his situation rooted him to the spot, until he caught sight of himself in the mirror which hung over his desk. Underneath the dark, uncut hair and rugged beard, he was still young and strong. Though his outward appearance pronounced his youthfulness, he could feel the bending of time in his mind. He didn’t have much time left, and he had lost all faith that he would ever find his saving grace.Amber eyes stared back at him with indifference. Resigned, he moved around to the large, leather chair and sent off the email he was working on. The mundane details of his human existence kept him moving forward when nothing else did. Minutes later he stood up from his desk, stretched to his full height, towering over the room. He then shifted into his favorite form—a gray wolf—and shed his clothes.            Gabriel’s mind eased as he shook out his thick coat and stretched out his lupine body. When he shifted, he was calmer. The anxious energy he kept contained while in human form, dwindled away, and contentment took its place. He needed to run and burn off some of the built-up energy he had stored; but, he had to wait for the cover of darkness, so as not to be shot by a hunter.The unexpected, familiar scent of his brother, Elijah, infused his senses. He could hear thundering noises in the kitchen—as if being made by an elephant, not a six-foot-four-inch, two-hundred-pound man. Without a sound, Gabriel padded across the plush, chocolate-brown carpet and through the maze of unpacked boxes. He followed the sounds and crouched down in the shadows, lurking, waiting for his brother to realize he had been noticed.Gabriel looked on as Elijah froze in place and scanned the room with his eyes—obviously sensing that he was being watched. He made a slow pivot and saw Gabriel.Elijah placed his hand over his chest and blew out a dramatic breath of relief. “One day, brother, you are going to sneak up on the wrong person and get your fluffy ass beat.”Gabriel let out a low, warning growl, baring his fangs.“I was just here to deliver some damn groceries. Quit acting so territorial,” Eli snapped. He placed the half-gallon of milk into the mostly-empty refrigerator and threw the plastic shopping bags into the overflowing trash can. He leaned against the sink and watched them fall to the floor, annoyance stamped on his face. “If you keep up the attitude, you grouchy son-of-a-bitch, I’m going to muzzle you. You need to get out of this house. Go drink a few beers or chase some piece of ass around. Quit being a whiny bitch. Quit wallowing in self-pity and live a little.”Gabriel lunged for his brother, looking for a fight; but, Eli teleported away before he could get close enough to tear a chunk out of him.
***
Gulf Coast Florida 2008
It had been a long, exhausting day. Carmen was a well-known, animal trainer on the east coast—one who just happened to have a special ability that made her better at her job than anyone else in her field. She could speak with animals, feel their emotions, and with just a little bit of mental conversation, she could completely rewire bad habits in one session. Her clients knew she was worth the money. They just didn’t need to know the exact why. She was with the last client of the day and was beyond ready to go home.The German Shepherd stood in front of Carmen, alongside its annoying, bossy, human. The dog tilted its head with affable curiosity, trying to figure out for sure what she was seeing. Carmen kept her face blank and sent peaceful thoughts its way, and the dog lay down with a sigh. Carmen linked her mind to that of the dog and asked, “So, why are you being so destructive?”“I get so bored when she leaves me alone and I can’t help myself. She doesn’t mean to be so busy, though,” Athena answered without hesitation. It was obvious she adored the debutante on the other end of the bedazzled leash. The old adage, “Love is blind” had never been truer than in that moment in Carmen’s estimation.Carmen couldn’t change personality traits in an animal any more than she could change them in a person. If Athena was suffering from boredom caused by neglect, then the only thing Carmen could do was make Athena’s owner aware of her failures.“Miss Hall,” Carmen spoke in clipped tones, unsure of why this client got under her skin with so little effort. She always did her best to remain professional with whatever situation her job tossed her into. But this particular woman made her want to throw away all of her hard-earned manners and just go back to what felt was natural—throat-punching any uptight pain-in-the-ass who got in her way.She let out a long, dramatic sigh. Maybe the job was finally getting to her, or perhaps it was the heat and humidity. She had felt a storm brewing ever since she had woken up that day. Or, it could have been linked to the feeling of being watched that she’d experienced that morning while getting dressed. Whatever the reason, something was off.“German Shepherds are a working breed. Their innate temperament will not allow them to become couch-potato pets. You need to give Athena a task.” Carmen nodded toward the dog while adding, “She needs to be exercised, too.”A young blonde with perfect teeth and a very expensive manicure—Miss Hall seemed to be the essence of everything that equaled an overindulged princess living in Panama City on Daddy’s money. Carmen almost hated her at first sight, almost. Her dislike was cemented as she wondered how the princess kept her hair stick-straight when the humidity did nothing but turn Carmen’s into a constant waterfall of flaming curls.“Miss Hall, if you do not put in the effort that it will take to teach Athena anything, she is going to continue eating your Jimmy Choo’s. She will chew on your couch, your adorable dinette set, and shred all of your magazines. You need to take her out to run more often. You also need to take her to obedience classes. Athena is not the problem here, you are.”Damn. Carmen winced a bit inside. She was losing her patience, and she was sure that Miss Hall had become offended. Oh well. Carmen sighed to herself and narrowed her eyes. Too bad. I’m not done. Miss Hall would, no doubt, never refer her to one of her friends, but Carmen didn’t care. She abhorred clients like this one; although, she usually had more patience with them.“How dare you speak to me in that tone?” Miss Hall shrieked, as her blemish-free, tanned complexion began to mottle. “I did not pay you to come in here and disrespect me. I paid you to fix her. She is the problem, not me,” she snarled while jabbing a flawless, manicured finger toward the dog and eyeing Carmen with almost-feral intent. “I do not have a problem, and I do not appreciate you taking that tone with me.” Her ranting had changed her at-first-pleasant face into one of a grade-A she-bitch.Carmen took a calming breath. It didn’t work. “Listen to me, you shallow, vapid little girl. You called me. You needed me. I do not need you as much as you needed this reality check. If you cannot wake up and realize that you are in the wrong here, then you need to find Athena a new home. A home with people who understand what she needs and will provide for those needs. Don’t you dare punish this beautiful creature for acting the way you have made her. You created these issues. She is just responding in a natural way to the confines you have created. She’s only eighteen months old. In human years, that is just shy of ten. You wouldn’t treat a ten-year-old child the way you have treated this poor dog, would you?”Miss Hall stepped back, aghast that anyone would speak to her that way. Carmen wasn’t just anyone, though. She was a woman who had lost her entire family at a young age, had grown up in and out of the foster system, and still managed to come out on top. She had worked hard for everything she had. She didn’t let anyone or anything stand in her way. Carmen wasn’t afraid to get dirty or ruffle a few feathers, and she could tell by the shocked look on Miss Hall’s face, she had figured that out.Miss Hall smoothed her hair down in frustration. “I will take what you have said under advisement. You are free to go now.” She straightened her clothes in a dismissive manner.For the first time all day, Carmen felt amused; but, she refused to allow her smirk to cross her lips. She didn’t want this woman to sense any weakness in her. She needed to drive her point home first. “You call me and tell me what you decide to do. If you decide to keep her and train her, I know some local people who can help. If you decide to find her a new home, let me know as well. I may be able to help. Either way ... you will let me know what happens. I don’t want to have to call animal control.” Carmen locked eyes with her, daring the unpleasant woman to contradict her.“Fine,” she huffed. “God, you sound just like my mother.”Carmen walked out before she could let the obscenities taking up space in her mind escape her mouth. She took her keys off of her belt loop and unlocked her little car. It was a red 1994 Mazda Mx6. There was something special about this little car. It was older, but something about it made Carmen fall in love with it. She started it up, pressed the clutch, put it in gear, and made herself proud by controlling the urge to spin the tires as she drove away.Driving fast evened her temper most of the time, but in that moment, a jet plane at Mach three wouldn’t have soothed her. Uncooperative clients, jerk ex-boyfriend, the constant feeling of being watched... it was all beginning to wear on her. Carmen turned the radio off and suppressed the urge to fly around the puttering car in front of her. She hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand instead.“Maybe I need a vacation?” she said aloud to the empty car, as she expelled a frustrated sigh. Her stomach roared, reminding her she hadn’t eaten all day. Or maybe I just need to eat.She pulled into the Waffle House four blocks from her house. “Hi, Carmen!” the staff and handful of regulars chimed at her. Several of the male customers looked her up and down with unwelcome appreciation. One of the braver ones called out, “Hey, baby.” Another one whistled and grinned. “I wish I was whatever you’re ordering.”Carmen didn’t even spare a glance. “I wish you were, too. Because then you’d be deep-fried and quiet.” He threw his fork down as his buddies erupted into bellows of laughter.As she strolled to her regular booth, Carmen passed Penny—another regular—who was seated at the bar. The lady’s button-down shirt and demure demeanor refreshed Carmen’s memory. She was the librarian from the library downtown.“Heya, Penny. Hiding out from your grandmother today?”The petite brunette nodded, offering a shy laugh. “Yes, sometimes I just need a break, you know?”Carmen laughed but didn’t break stride. “Yeah, except I need a break from people every day.” She found the waitress behind the counter. “Hey, Tiff. Can I just get my regular?” Tiffany nodded and wrote down the order to call it in.Carmen smiled. She was a part-time fixture there. She couldn’t help it. Hash browns soothed her, and anytime she had a dumb client, bad day, or craving; she ate hash browns smothered with almost everything. She was sure that one day her thighs and ass were going to pay the ultimate price for her indulgence, but it hadn’t happened yet. Carmen went to her favorite booth in the corner and sat with her back to the wall while she waited, with the smell of wonderful, greasy food teasing her. It almost helped her relax.



About the Author:
Allaina Daniels is a sassy domestic goddess from Georgia whose addiction to caffeine is surpassed only by her passion for the written word.
Her debut paranormal romance, Infinity, was released in August 2015; and, her second novel is expected to be available by summer 2016.
Allaina is an avid reader and reviewer of all genres and enjoys connecting with her readers on social media.
www.AllainaDaniels.com
www.facebook.com/allainadaniels
https://twitter.com/AllainaDaniels
https://www.goodreads.com/AllainaDaniels
http://www.amazon.com/Allaina-Daniels/e/B012XNGVP4/

Top Ten Ways of Making Nathe Amergin Crazy – Sapphy Black

Hi, there. Instead of Sophie coming to talk to you today, I decided it’d be more fun to come and share my favourite methods of making Nathe Amergin, a.k.a. Mr I’m-too-serious-to-smile, show his feelings. As if that was a dirty word or something. Trust me, I know much dirtier ones ;) My name’s Sapphy and I’ll be your tour guide around Nathe’s emotions today. So, how to get this locked-down lover to show you he cares? Here are my top ten ways:
1: Attack him. First impressions count, right? He came after me and yet he got so mad when I sent him flying with my ninja-wind power. Hilarious.
2: Run from him. He tried to take me to jail. Have me hanged. All because of a little mistaken identity. Jeez, humour this guy does not have. Turns out running from him brings out the caveman from Mr Control – and he likes to chase.
3: Tug on his strings. Nathe is an ambassador of the realm, a queen’s enforcer and incredibly loyal. As soon as I implied the danger to his people, he was not happy. And when Nathe isn’t happy, he gets uptight and stiff and sulky. Makes you want to bite his lower lip.
4: Oh, a good one. Kiss him. Nathe gets embarrassed easily when it comes to attraction. His ears blush. So cute. Except when he kisses you back – and then the earth shakes.
5: Tease him. I swear, the man must have grown up where nobody cracked a joke or something. Sarcasm gets an eyebrow twitch, innuendo a strangled comment. And if you say you’re going to tell the uptight nobles where to get off, he goes this deep shade of red that’s hysterical.
6: Ah. Not my favourite. Get hurt. Nathe has this incredibly protective streak along with an archaic idea about women needing his protection. Anyone tries to hurt me, the earth trembles with his contained rage.
7: Push him to talk about his family. If there was ever a man in need of opening up, it’s Nathe. He locks his emotions away so he doesn’t have to deal with them, but he needs to grieve his past. You have to shovel some manure before you can grow roses. Even when he gets annoyed about your pushiness, it’s worth a few displays of irritation to get him to open up.
8: Get seen with other men. So along with that ingrained protective streak, Nathe also has a deep vat of hidden jealousy. See, he doesn’t let himself care for any woman until I pushed my way into his life and if he even thinks another man is making eyes at me, Mr Cool flips to burning point. Watch out for the sparks that fly …
9: Give him the green light. You’d think a man who’s all about control might be a dud in the bedroom, but oh. My. Gods. Enough said.
10: Finally, the tenth way of forcing Nathe’s emotions out from under lock and key? Tell him you love him. I guarantee a display to treasure forever.
For more ways of letting Nathe’s feelings free, I recommend you check out our book. Strap yourselves in – it’s a bumpy ride ;) 
WhispersThe Divided Kingdom SeriesBook  TwoSophie H. Morgan
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Date of Publication: 03/01/2016
ISBN: 9781619230903ASIN: B018VL0860
Number of pages: 342 pagesWord Count: 102,929
Cover Artist: Kanaxa
Book Description:
He’s no pushover. And she ain’t no fairy princess.
No one would guess that Sapphy, awesome whirlwind of Maze badassness, grew up sheltered in the Fae realm. Witnessing a murder drove her into the humans’ broken cities to hide, but now she’s back, going undercover to keep history from repeating as the tournament to choose a new Fae queen dawns.
The only pebble in her shit-kicking boot is the jaw-gritting interference of Nathe Amergin, a Fae Enforcer whose solemn violet eyes set her skin to sizzle.
After the loss of his beloved sister, Nathe saved his last shred of sanity by clamping a lid on his emotions and forging a path to justice. When this frustrating, blue-eyed, my-go-or-I’ll-blow female informs him of a possible threat to the realm, his offer of support is genuine, if reluctant.
While he’s willing to work with her to protect his people, this sinful smart-ass skates perilously close to unleashing an avalanche of passion that, as the final choosing looms and whispers turn to screams, could bury them both.
Product WarningsContains ear-blushing sex between a flighty Fae with a mean air jab and a grounded Elemental who makes her earth move. Add a murderous queen clinging to power, and sabotage that strikes out of thin air. Anyone got ear plugs?
Samhain    Amazon UK    Amazon
Excerpt:
“Where is she?” Nathe ran a hand down the back of his head, rubbing at the pressure point in his nape. “How did you fare at the dress shop? She must look acceptable, Tomas.”
“Trust me. Saphaia looks…acceptable.”
The edge of humor was not welcome. Not tonight. “Where is she?” Nathe stressed. “The announcements of competitors will begin soon. It will not look correct if she hasn’t mingled first.”
Tomas blinked at the rush of words. “You’re nervous.”
“I am not.”
“Like a virgin on her wedding night.”
“Can you stop thinking about sex for one moment, Tomas? This is serious. So many aspects of this plan can fall apart if she makes one wrong step.”
“Do you have so little trust in her?” Tomas pushed his hands into the pockets of his dress suit, a little more fashionable than Nathe’s own, the color of a good claret that complimented his dark skin.
Nathe sniffed. “You have known her one day. How can you have so much?”
Tomas shrugged, ignoring the giggles of passing noblewomen as they headed for the buffet. “She is a straightforward woman, a species I could get used to. Even attracted to.”
“What does that mean?”
“As I said, she is an intriguingly open woman. No false modesty. And she has an enticing form.”
Dark emotions swirled in Nathe’s gut at the thought of Sapphy pressing her lips to Tomas, her body astride his friend’s.
The earth threatened to tremor beneath him until he quelled it. “What happened at the gown shop?”
“We bought several outfits. We talked about life and love.” Tomas tilted his chin. “Are you looking in that direction, my friend?”
“No.”
“Then I pity the blind man.” With those puzzling words, Tomas slapped a hand on Nathe’s arm. “For all the good it may bring you, she’s on the stairs.”
Hit with a flood of relief, Nathe twisted to where Tomas now pointed.
And stood frozen.
His breath halted, his heart pounded once before forgetting its next action entirely. The dancers melted away, the shouts of laughter and revelry faded, even Tomas blurred until there was but the dark.
And her.
Sapphy stood poised at the top of the marble staircase like an angel from a painting, one graceful hand brushing the bannister, her face in profile as she looked away.
Her long, lithe body was wrapped in silk. The gown was a waterfall of blue, darkest blueberry at the bodice melting into crisp ice at the hem. Baring creamy white shoulders, it cupped her round breasts, slipped down to a waist he could span with both hands, before flaring out to the floor.
Her face had been painted, her lips a pale pink, her eyes a dramatic storm of smoke and ice. Sapphires trickled from her earlobes and graced her throat, simple, understated, elegant.
But it was her hair that was magnificent. A sweep of silvery-blue, the color of ice crystals on the verge of melting, it had been left loose to wave down to her hips, the different blues shimmering in the electric lights. A crown of bluebells adorned her head, a dramatic contrast between sensuality and innocence. The awakening.
She moved like the wind she called her own when she began to descend, a rolling of her hips that had Nathe’s blood sizzling, snapping, aching for her. His body stiffened, but he drifted toward her, unable to stop himself. Drawn together, he thought. Magnets.
And still there was nobody but them as he met her at the middle. She spoke not a word, but her eyes remained watchful, knowing. Even bluer now that her true colors had been revealed. They blistered him with a knowing look.
With a small smile, she held out a hand.
In the dreamscape, every movement was slow, and his taking of her hand was no different. Raising it to his lips, he inhaled the scent of her skin, brushing his lips over her knuckles, lingering.
His eyes flicked up. Breathless was how she looked, sensual and slumberous as she watched him out of hooded eyes.
His groin was on fire, his belly in knots as he longed to yank her to him, gather her skirts up and ride them both to ecstasy.
She waited for him to speak, but he couldn’t find the words to describe her beauty, every one trite and cliché. Every one fell short.
So he took the hand he still held and pressed it inside his jacket, against his racing heart. As her smile floated away, he moved in as close as the steps allowed.
“I burn,” he said softly. He held her gaze as his breath whispered across her cheek.

She quivered.
About the Author:
Sophie H. Morgan is a paranormal romance author with a love for hot guys, sassy heroines, and HEAs that seem impossible. When not at the keyboard working out ways to drive her characters into each other’s arms, you can find her rambling about the English countryside with her crazy spaniels, shopping for one more pair of shoes, or devouring yet ANOTHER romance novel with ANOTHER bag of raisin cookies.
Website: http://www.sophiehmorganauthor.wordpress.com 

Facebook: www.facebook.com/sophiehmorganauthor
Twitter: @SophieHMorgan
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/SophieHMorgan   

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Cover Reveal BOUND by Carmen Fox

BOUNDThe Silverton ChroniclesBook TwoCarmen Fox
Date of Publication: April 30, 2016
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Smart Heart Publishing
Cover Designer: Ana Grigoriu
epub ISBN :  9780993199233
Book Description:
Bound by blood. Bound by loyalties. Bound by love.
Florian has it all: excellent fashion sense, a kickass job with his best friend, and a hard-won place among Silverton’s werewolves. When a pack of females pads into their territory, Flo’s alpha dispatches him to handle a merger. Total cakewalk. Except Keely, their alpha, has no intention of submitting her wolves to Flo's larger pack. Worse, a single glance from her baby blues sends his eloquence on vacation and his heartbeat into overdrive. His flirtations seem welcome too, but there's a snag. She doesn’t know he’s a vampire.
While Flo struggles with his conflicts—obey his alpha, or win over Keely—his estranged sire blasts into town with a catalog of radical ideas. And hanging out with unsophisticated werewolves didn't make the list.
With violence in the air and all sides testing his loyalties, Florian must bite back, even if showing his fangs costs him the girl.
Amazon    Smashwords     iBooks    BN
Book trailer: http://youtu.be/jlPI5sdKr-o

Goodreads     Facebook Page for Series
About The Author

Carmen lives in the south of England with her beloved tea maker and a stuffed sheep called Fergus. An avid reader since childhood, she caught the writing bug when her Nana asked her to write a story. She also has a law degree, studied physics for a few years, dabbled in marketing and human resources, and speaks native-level German and fluent Geek. Her preferred niches of geekdom are tabletop games, comics, sci-fi and fantasy.
She writes about smart women with sassitude, about pretty cool guys too, and will chase that plot twist, no matter how elusive.
Guarded (The Silverton Chronicles – Bk. 1) became a no. 1 bestseller in the vampire and werewolf mystery categories.
For details on this or Carmen's other work, visit her website atwww.carmen-fox.com

Spotlight and Giveaway- Trust Me by Aliyah Burke

Trust MeD.A.R.K. Cover, Inc.Book TwoAliyah Burke
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Military Romance, Romantic Suspense
Publisher: ARe Books
Date of Publication: March 1, 2016
ISBN: 9781943576685ASIN: TBD
Word Count: 20000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill
Book Description:
To survive the present and have a future, she must trust a man from her past.
Shelly Marie Dixon is a woman with a scary past. Literally. Never able to settle in one place because of the man set on tormenting her. After five years of struggling to move on with her life, she goes back to the man she left years ago. Hopefully, he will help her and not brush her aside.
Adam Wilder, eldest brother and co-founder of D.A.R.K Cover, Inc., never in his wildest dreams expected to find his lost love sitting in the lobby of his company building. No way he’s letting her face this danger alone. If it takes all of D.A.R.K’s resources he will risk it. Whatever it takes to keep her safe. Problem is, will he be able to keep it professional, because one look at her and he wants to go back to how things were, way back when.
The only way that is going to happen is if she’ll believe him when he says: “Trust me.”
ARe    Amazon    Kobo    iTunes

Excerpt: Adam Wilder scowled as he strode through the winter snow to the plowed path leading to the D.A.R.K. Cover, Inc. building. His shoulder still ached from the bullet that he’d received in the last month. He could do for a rest, no argument.Go to Belize as I did. It’ll do you a world of good.His youngest brother Wild’s words echoed through his mind as he yanked the outer door open and pushed into the heat. He tugged on the cuff of his black leather glove and headed for the stairs. He had too damn much paperwork waiting for him. “Adam? Adam, do you have a sec?”He paused three steps before the stairs. His sister-in-law Karen—who doubled as their secretary—called his name.“Yes.”“Can you open the closet, please?”He peered over his shoulder to see her carrying a stack of boxes. Adam dropped his bag and hurried to her side. “What are you doing? Where’s Rhodi? He shouldn’t let you carry so much.”“I’m not an invalid.”He grunted and took the four boxes from her, smiling down on her short blonde hair. “Never said you were. Implied my brother is a lazy bastard, but never that you’re an invalid.”She punched him and, solely because he liked her, he gave the obligatory grunt. An act that earned him another hit. She opened the door and he maneuvered by to place the boxes down on the table before sliding them onto the steel grey shelf.“How’s my nephew?”“Demanding, turning more like his daddy.” She rocked back on her heels, hands in pockets. “Never imagined I’d enjoy being a mom. He’s everything to me.”“Brayden’s a great kid. Go on, I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.”She smiled and nodded, the twinkle in her eyes making him wonder if she’d not waited for him to do it. He didn’t mind really.Ten minutes later, he left and headed back to swipe his bag, then took the stairs two at a time. He tossed his bag to land near the black leather couch as he continued to the large desk, also black, and sat heavily.He needed to get away. His last mission had taken more from him than it should have. More than he cared to admit. Moreover, the problem was, it shouldn’t have for it had been a babysitting gig. Woman and her son, hiding from the ex-husband’s parents who—if he did say so himself—were some ruthless bastards.For the next two hours he took care of paperwork, lining up other jobs and making notes on completed ones. His phone buzzed and he hit the button with the pen. “Yes?”“Could you come down here please?”Adam didn’t hesitate, he wasn’t fond of the tremor in her voice. “On my way.” He grabbed his Glock, made sure the magazine was full, and shoved it in the back of his waistband as he hurried to the door. He took the stairs and pushed through the door to find his sister-in-law sitting at her desk, watching for him. Scanning the area, he didn’t see anyone and met her gaze once more.“What’s going on?”“There’s someone here to see you.”Another look around their waiting room. No one was there. “Who are you talking about, Karen?”The door to the bathroom opened and a small figure stepped out, ball cap pulled low over the face, so he couldn’t tell who it was.“Her.”He ran another perusal of her. Her fear was obvious and her suspicion. He glanced back to Karen, who shook her head to his unasked question of why she called him. Derek had a way of making women feel safe, he was the lighthearted one. Not Adam.“She asked for you by name,” Karen whispered, answering the question as to why it was him.Raking a hand through his hair, he stepped forward. “You asked to see me?” he queried, willing her to lift her gaze.She raised a hand and removed her hat, simultaneously tilting her chin. Dark red curls tumbled free as he was speared by a pair of emerald green eyes he never thought he’d see again in his lifetime. His lungs were empty and it took a moment for him to comprehend, his brain reminding him to breathe.“Shelly Marie?” Surely it had to be a mistake he was seeing her before him.
“I know I’m the last person you want to see, Adam, but I need your help.” That pink tongue of hers darted out to dampen her lips. “Please.”
About the Author:
Aliyah Burke is an avid reader and is never far from pen and paper (or the computer). She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached here, or feel free to apply to join her yahoo group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/aliyah_... is married to a career military man, they have a German Shepherd, two Borzoi, and a DSH cat. Her days are spent sharing her time between work, writing, and dog training.
http://www.aliyah-burke.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Aliyah-Burke/283998078320168
http://twitter.com/AliyahBurke96

a Rafflecopter giveaway

What Readers Are Saying About Secrets of Successful Book Tours

“As a book blogger, I am often surprised by the number of new authors I meet that do not really promote their books. There are a lot of inexpensive and free ways for them to do so. Roxanne Rhoads does an excellent job of laying these ideas out. The book is well-organized and easy to follow. She points out author mistakes and faux pas. She speaks from her past experiences. I have a background in marketing. Roxanne Rhoads has a strong understanding of marketing and does a great job of explaining her suggestions and ideas. I highly suggest this book to all authors. There are many great ideas in this book that can help brand you as an author as well as get your books noticed. There are so many books out there. It is absolutely necessary for an author to promote themselves.”~ Diane Lynch, Book Blogger
“jam-packed with useful tips that had be scrambling for my calendar. And the conciseness is frankly another selling point for a busy authorpreneur. Who has time to wade through a bunch of fluff? Not me. And Roxanne doesn't waste our time with that -- she gets straight to the business of book tours. Want to run your own tour? No problem. The book provides advice on DIY'ers as well. From lists of blog ideas to the legal in's and out's of using images, Secrets of Successful Virtual Book Tours has something for novices and old hands like myself. And I believe her branding advice was spot on.”~ Kirsten Weiss, Author
“This is a must have for any author planning to do a virtual book tour. Most of us wouldn't even think of half this stuff. Roxanne's advice is golden.”~ Serena Synn, Author
“This book is packed with information on how to not only promote your book but also promote yourself as an author.”
~ Bonnie Amazon Review

‪#‎bookmarketing‬ ‪#‎virtualbooktours‬  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B019ELW7O2



Secrets of Successful Virtual Book ToursQuick Tips for Authors GuideRoxanne Rhoads
Book Description:
Are you considering a virtual book tour?
Not sure where to start or exactly what an online tour will entail?
Roxanne Rhoads, book publicist and owner of Bewitching Book Tours, shares her virtual tour expertise in this Quick Tips for Authors Guide.
Secrets of Successful Virtual Book Tours will guide you in utilizing the best marketing tool available- a virtual book tour, which can create online exposure for your book, jumpstart your book sales, help build your author brand, and expand your network.
In this guide you’ll learn:·       what you should do before a tour·       the components of  a great author website·       the best social media outlets for authors to utilize·       tips for building your author brand·       how to write great guest blogs·       what to expect from an online book tour·       the secrets of successful book tours·       how to schedule your own virtual book tour
And you’ll receive in-depth details about what to do during a virtual book tour to guarantee success.
Amazon    BN    Kobo    Scribd    iBooks
Smashwords    Inktera     Createspace


Excerpt 
The world of publishing is continuously evolving thanks to technology and the Internet. It is now easier than ever to publish a book. But with the growing number of new books being released every day it is also harder than ever to get your book noticed in the crowd.
If your line of thinking includes- “If I publish it, people will buy it,” think again.
Indie publishing requires a dedication to self-promotion. Gone are the days an author hermits them self away to write, then hands the book to the publisher who does all the leg work for promotion. Even NYT Bestselling authors and those with contracts through the big publishers still have to do a certain amount of self-promotion.
There are many ways to promote:  social media, advertising on popular websites and blogs, print advertising in trade magazines, attending reader oriented conventions and events…but one of the best ways to get your book out there and build name recognition as an author is through a virtual book tour.
In this Quick Tips for Authors Guide, you will learn why a virtual book tour can be an author’s most effective marketing tool.

Author Interview-Heart of Stone by Dakota Willink

Is the setting to your story important?  

For me it is, especially considering the amount of research I did for it.  The setting for Heart of Stone is New York City, and I took a trip there at Christmas time in 2014.  I walked the streets for hours on end, trying to find the perfect location for Krystina’s apartment and Alexander’s Penthouse.  I researched real-estate prices, took note of the smells in the air, and absorbed every detail about Washington Square Park. I fell in love with NY at Christmas time while I was there, and plan to incorporate the holiday season in the third book of The Stone Series.

Did you always want to be a writer? If not what did you want to be?  

At one time, I wanted to be an English teacher. For some reason or another, that didn’t happen and I ended up with a business degree and a job in retail banking.  I always wanted to be a writer through it all, but considered it a pipedream.  Responsibilities of managing a job and a family always seemed more important.  Then a few years ago, I met someone locally that wrote and published.  She was a wife and mother of three – and just as busy as I was.  It was then that I realized that I needed to stop making excuses and just do it.  So I did.  When my husband read what I had been working on, he became my biggest fan and encouraged me to quit my job to focus solely on finishing Heart of Stone.

When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?  

That’s tough to answer…even now I struggle to wrap my head around the fact that I am a published author. It feels surreal.   

How long did it take to get your first book published?  

I started writing Heart of Stone in July of 2013, but I only wrote sporadically in between work and family obligations.  I didn’t start to work on it full time until early 2015.  I ended up finishing it in December of 2015.

What were your goals as an author and have any of them come true?  

I published – that alone is a huge accomplishment, as many people never finish writing the story that they began.

What genres do you normally write in?  

To date, only Romance.  There is currently a debate on Goodreads about the subcategory, and whether it should be Contemporary or New Adult Fiction.

Is there a genre you haven’t written in that one day you’d like to tackle? 

Fantasy/Paranormal – either young adult or romantic.  I’m just nervous that I won’t be able to do it justice.

What was the first book you ever published? 

Heart of Stone is currently the only title that I have published.


Heart of StoneThe Stone SeriesBook 1Dakota Willink
Genre:  Contemporary Romance
Date of Publication:  December 27, 2015
ISBN:  0997160314ASIN:  B019NXMK6G
Number of pages:  458Word Count:  133,464
Cover Artist:  Dakota Willink
Book Description: 
Krystina Cole was a girl on a mission.  She had big dreams and aspirations, none of which included a man by her side.  She knew better than that – at least until she met Alexander Stone, the New York billionaire real estate tycoon.  She saw the way that he looked at her, and the dark promises in his eyes.  She was curious about his world and all that it entailed. But the shadows of her past haunted her, making her afraid to explore possibilities that she could never before have imagined…
Alexander Stone was a man who knew how to get what he wanted.  He understood the value of finesse, and the importance of patience and diligence to achieve the desired result. He was successful and wealthy, relying on his naturally sharp instincts to guide him through life.  But a chance run in with Krystina Cole quickly turned his world upside down. Her quick wit and firecracker attitude was the complete opposite of what he wanted in a woman, and his instincts failed him at every turn…
However, both Krystina and Alexander are clinging to the secrets of their past, and neither of them are willing to compromise.  Krystina’s hardened heart makes emotional surrender a hard limit.  But for Alexander, revealing his past could have devastating results.
Amazon
Excerpt:
After unwrapping the cellophane from the platter, I moved over to the minibar to choose a bottle of white from the wine cooler.  I perused the selections, trying to decide what would pair best with the cheeses.Sauvignon Blanc or Chardonnay? Both will go nicely, but which would she prefer?I glanced over at Krystina, intending to ask her if she had a particular wine preference.  However, she had a look about her that made me pause, and I didn’t want to interrupt the picture that she painted before me.  She was running one delicate hand over the wooden top of my dining room table.  She wore a soft smile on her lips, appreciating the craftsmanship of the design.  She looked beautiful sitting there, feet up on the chair, seeming completely at ease.  And in that moment, I realized that she had never before looked quite like that in my presence.  She had never appeared so completely relaxed.  So unguarded.I stood there studying every beautiful line of her captivating face.  Seeing her that way, it was almost hard to believe she was capable of so many smart remarks and witty comebacks.  Perhaps her sharp tongue and contentious behavior was a defense mechanism, one that she relied on when she was uncomfortable.  If that were truly the case, then I would need to take corrective actions to remedy that problem. I had to calm her, or else I’d never get through the weeks ahead.Weeks? Since when do I think long term about these things?The idea was novel for me and I was stunned to discover that I liked the idea of her being here more regularly. In my space.  With me.  It was a distressing sort of feeling.This can all go to shit at a moments notice.  Take it one step at a time. A change of tactics was needed, for Krystina’s sake as well as my own. My normal methods of operation would have to be thrown out the window.  Attempting to take control by laying down the law would only backfire, so I began to construct a new plan – one that would make Krystina feel more at ease.  Once she was relaxed, I would begin to work on her trust by giving her what she’s been asking for.  Full disclosure.  Krystina would have no doubts about what I wanted from her after tonight.  She would know exactly who and what I was.  She would either run, or she would stay.  If she stayed, then that’s when the true test would come into play – tonight I would discover if Krystina could put away that independent mind of hers long enough to pass her first lesson in submission.  Finally feeling like I had somewhat of a solution to Krystina’s argumentative nature, I turned my attention back to the wine selection.  Smiling to myself, I settled on a bottle of Joh. Jos. Prüm Riesling.Sweet.  Like her.I grabbed two crystal wine goblets and went back to the dining room, focused on the mission ahead.  I could only hope that Krystina would keep herself open to what I had in mind.




About the Author:
Dakota Willink is a self-employed writer and editor, and the author of Heart of Stone, a contemporary romance novel. 
She has always had a passion for reading and writing. From the time she was an adolescent, she enjoyed curling up with a good paperback, reading genres that ranged from thriller and fantasy, to mystery and romance.  She always dreamed of one day writing her own book, but had put her aspirations on hold to focus on her family and a career that would pay the bills. 
Although she earned a degree in business and had built a solid reputation in retail sales, her heart continued to be with fictional characters – whether they belonged to a favorite author or if they were just stories that she made up in her own head.  
In 2013, Dakota gathered enough courage to turn her dreams into a reality. In between playing chauffeur to two very busy children and working her job during the day, Dakota began to put words on paper.  Eventually, she began to describe her life as a book.  Everything she saw or heard throughout the day, intertwined with her imagination for the creation of future writings.  By 2014, with the support of her husband and two children, she gave up the security of a steady paycheck and began working on her first novel full time.
Dakota Willink is a lover of music, and appreciates the power and stimulating effect it can have on the brain.  She often uses lyrics and melodies to help her through bouts of writers block.  At the end of her novel, you can find an authors note that recognizes and thanks the artists that gave her inspiration.
Dakota resides in the Western New York area, where she enjoys spending time with family, her two Labrador Retrievers, and her spoiled rotten cat.  During the summer months, she can often be found on a boat, soaking up the sun on the Great Lakes with her family. 
Official Website:  http://www.dakotawillink.com
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/DakotaWillink/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/DakotaWillink
Amazon Author Central:  http://www.amazon.com/Dakota-Willink/e/B019UOHLYO
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14808492

Interview- Release Day Blitz MudMan by James A. Hunter

Hey folks, my name is James Hunter and I’m a former Marine Corps Sergeant, combat veteran, and pirate hunter (seriously). I’m also an Urban Fantasy writer—not that you’ll catch me making that confession in public. I’m the author of the Yancy Lazarus series and now the Golem Chronicles, which revolves around the adventures and various shenanigans of Levi Adams: a homicidal, shapeshifting golem, crafted from the muck, mire, and corpses of a World War II concentration camp. Levi’s been saddled with a divine commission to dole out judgment on those who shed innocent blood. After seventy years as a cold-blooded murder machine, however, the disgruntled MudMan is trying to change his grisly nature. I’d just like to take a quick moment to thank Fang-tastic for having me on this excellent blog.What inspired your story?
Though I love urban fantasy in all its various forms, I really wanted to write a character that hasn’t been done before (or at least not often). I hold a degree in theology, so I was familiar with the legend of the Jewish Golem—who is typically ugly, dumb, violent, and generally a terrible hero—and thought it would be cool to see a golem take center stage as the good guy. Though in truth Levi’s isn’t really a good guy—he’s been programmed to murder and it’s taken him years to curb his murderous lust.
Is the setting to your story important?
Yes. MudMan takes place in the same “universe” as my Yancy Lazarus series. The setting is contemporary and urban, with supernatural and fantastical creatures from a wide array of backgrounds hiding in plain sight. There is also a supernatural realm, Outworld, which exists on a different plane of existence, but which can be accessed by traveling through a shady, otherworldly city known as the Hub. My books draw from a lot of different mythologies and feature creatures you’re not likely to find elsewhere.
When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?
For me, anyone who enjoys writing—whether published or not—is a writer. Poems, short stories, flash fiction, novels. Whatever. If you write then you’re a writer. Period.
Is there a genre you haven’t written in that one day you’d like to tackle?
Right now my mainstay genre is urban/dark fantasy in all its wonderful and morbid forms. Originally, though, I started out writing horror novels and short stories and someday I may swing back that way. I also have an idea for a more traditional high-fantasy, which I would like to get around to writing one day.
What was the first book you ever published?
The first book I ever published was Strange Magic, the first book in my Yancy Lazarus series—also an urban fantasy book, which takes place in the same “world” as MudMan. Right now, there are three books (and a novella) available in that series—you can pick up the novella, Flashback: Siren Song, for free on Amazon.
What was the craziest thing you’ve ever done when it came to a storyline in your book?
In the third Yancy Lazarus novel, Wendigo Rising, the main character—a magical, wet-works man turned rambling blues hound—reluctantly teams up with a pair of disgruntled, Native-American Sasquatches to fight off a cannibalistic Bigfoot, possessed by a gluttony spirit called a Guttur Belua.



MudManThe Golem ChroniclesBook OneJames A. Hunter
Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Shadow Alley Press
ASIN: B01BX7PT7M
Number of pages: 415Word Count: 111,000
Cover Artist: Lou Harper
Book Description:
Levi Adams is a soft spoken, middle-aged Mennonite man—at least he tries to be when he’s not murdering people.
Levi’s a golem, a Mudman, crafted from the muck, mire, and corpses of a World War II concentration camp—killing is just a part of his DNA. He doesn’t like it, but unfortunately he’s been saddled with a divine commission to dole out judgment on those who shed innocent blood. After seventy years as a cold-blooded murder machine, however, Levi’s trying to change his grisly nature. And the AA meetings and church services are helping. A little. But when he runs across a wounded girl, Sally Ryder, during one of his “hunting expeditions,” he realizes self-help may have to go on the back burner.
Someone is attempting to revive a pre-Babylonian murder god, and the road to rebirth is paved with dead bodies. Lots and lots of them.
Now, Levi must protect Ryder—the key to an unspeakable resurrection—and defeat a Nazi mage from Levi’s murky past. But the shadowy mage holds a terrible secret about the Mudman’s unorthodox birth, one offering insight into Levi’s morbid compulsion for bloodshed. It’s a secret Levi would pay anything to uncover: maybe even Ryder’s life. If Levi isn’t careful, he may end up turning into the monster he always imagined himself to be.
Amazon
ZERO:AwakeningJune, 1943
He blinked his eyes open for the first time: a newborn stealing his first look at the world, which, in a way, is exactly what he was. Except no squealing, rosy-cheeked infant had ever been so big, so ugly, or so filled with blood-boiling rage. Never had a child been so appalling. He squinted at first, letting in only the merest trickle of light because even the wan illumination from the moon, which loitered over the world like a fat thumbnail, was harsh to his virgin eyes.Smells came next: the scent of musky earth, the harsh tang of powdery slaked lime—used to mask the reek of decay—and buried beneath that, the sour stink of rotten flesh and burnt hair.The sky spit down a misty drizzle, fine droplets of cool water that turned his gray skin slick. After a few moments more his eyes adjusted fully, allowing him, at last, to survey his surroundings. Mud and muck, deep brown and goopy, lined everything. It squished beneath his shoulder blades, clung to his arms and legs, and liberally coated the corpses crudely piled to his right. Despite the mud, the bodies appeared almost white, like angry specters waiting for him, welcoming him to this new hell with silent screams and vacant eyes.How he knew anything was beyond him, since this was the first day of his life, the day—or rather night—of his unnatural birth. Surely, no baby pushed and fought its way into the world with dark and grisly thoughts of murder and death lingering in its mind, with knowledge of mass graves, heinous experimentation, and hasty executions. But he knew such things. Fragments of memories floated and swirled inside his skull, dancing a slow funeral dirge, parading incoherent snatches of imagery through his head.The Wehrmacht march through the streets in their black spit-shined boots and high-collared, gray wool uniforms. Smart and dashing, those uniforms, dressing up the face of murder in civility and pageantry …The Luftwaffe soars overhead. The buzz of the single-prop Focke-Wulf and the thunderous roar of the colossal Messerschmitt transport planes fill the air with their racket …He clutches a small boy to his chest, his body trembling as he hides, holding his breath for fear of being heard. Terror and panic wriggle in his guts as the black-garbed Schutzstaffel—the SS—make their way from door to door, fists rapping on wood, rifle buttstocks smashing out windows, booted feet kicking their way inside …Then, train cars, loaded to capacity, roll through his thoughts. Bodies press up against one another so tightly he can’t breathe—except he isn’t a he, but a she. And she is searching for her sister. They’d been separated in all the chaos …So many images, circling around, each screaming more loudly than the last, each demanding he lend them an ear or an eye or a hand. He clutched at either side of his head. Broad, fleshy palms pressed in as though he could simply pulverize the images and send them back to whatever nightmare they’d come from. But they kept coming, and as they came—faster and faster, like a hail of automatic machine gunfire—his chest began to itch and burn. It felt like someone had taken a cherry-red fire iron and jabbed it into the meat covering his breastbone.A huge hand flew to the pain, his fingers finding crude markings etched directly into the skin, cut deep into the muscle below. As he touched the mark, the jagged wound, the voices and visions coalesced into a single demand. A demand for retribution. The anger came next, flowing from the brand like gasoline pumping through his veins, scorching his insides and propelling him to action. He lumbered to his feet, the muck squishing around his thick toes, and made for the muddy wall of his earthen womb. In reality, an open grave. He dug his digits in and used his flabby, though powerfully built, arms to pull himself upward and free.He lay on the edge of the pit for a long beat, charting the lay of the land, eyes scanning the dark, which covered everything like a velvety blanket. In the distance, not so far off, he saw a squat building. Some sort of bunker, outlined by the faint glow of light bulbs. He wasn’t sure what he was. Where he was. Or how he’d gotten there. But, as the brand burned in his chest, he was certain of one thing: someone—or, perhaps, lots of someones—had quite the butcher’s bill to account for, and he was ready to collect.

About the Author:
Hey all, my name is James Hunter and I’m a writer, among other things. So just a little about me: I’m a former Marine Corps Sergeant, combat veteran, and pirate hunter (seriously). I’m also a member of The Royal Order of the Shellback—’cause that’s a real thing. I’ve also been a missionary and international aid worker in Bangkok, Thiland. And, a space-ship captain, can’t forget that.
Okay … the last one is only in my imagination.
Currently, I’m a stay at home Dad—taking care of my two kids—while also writing full time, making up absurd stories that I hope people will continue to buy. When I’m not working, writing, or spending time with family, I occasionally eat and sleep.
You can visit me to find out more at www.JamesAHunter.wordpress.com
www.twitter.com/@jamesahunter13
www.facebook.com/WriterJamesAHunter

Top Six Things You Didn’t Know About The Asset’s Heroes By Anna del Mar

I’m thrilled to celebrate the launch of my debut Wounded Warrior series, a collection of hot, smart romances about strong heroines struggling to find their place in the world and the brave, kickass, military heroes who challenge their limits to protect the women they love. In The Asset , the series’ first novel, we meet Ash Hunter, a Navy SEAL wounded in Afghanistan who’s struggling to overcome his injuries when he finds himself staring down the barrel of Lia Stuart’s shotgun.
Lia is a fugitive desperately trying to escape her terrifying past. She may not be a SEAL and she’s definitively keeping secrets, but Ash recognizes her for who she really is: a fighter and a survivor, the kind, caring, passionate woman he could love, if only she wasn’t so afraid to let him. When she risks her cover to help him, Ash commits to a new mission: He will lay down his life to save hers.
The Asset is all romance and suspense. I don’t want to give away any spoilers, but here are the top six things you didn’t know about Ash and Lia as The Asset begins:

1.     Ash might be wounded, but he’s by no means out of the game. He’s got the skills, training and experience that allow him to discover Lia’s secrets. This wounded warrior is about to kick some ass.
2.     Lia didn’t fight in Afghanistan like Ash did, but she too suffers from PTSD. She’s a wounded warrior herself and yet she’s also a survivor. She’s fighting for her life and freedom and she’s managed to keep herself alive in the face of some piss poor odds. She doesn’t need anybody’s help, thank you very much.
3.     There’s a lot more to Ash than meets the eye. He has access to resources Lia could only dream of and he won’t hesitate to use them. Now, if he could only win Lia’s trust, he’d clear the path to her heart.
4.     Lia has suffered a lot of losses in her life. Everyone she’s loved has been taken from her. She’s afraid to love Ash. She worries that if she allows herself to fall for Ash, he too will die. And his death is not something she can survive.
5.     Lia’s enemy is cunning, powerful and ruthless, but Ash is devious too and he has a plan, a plan that only a highly trained SEAL like him can execute to perfection, if only he can get around Lia’s objections.
6.     Lia would rather die than see Ash hurt. And she will do so if it means Ash’s life. From him, she’s learned courage and hope. For a chance to love Ash, she will stop running, face her worst fears and fight.
The AssetWounded Warrior SeriesBook OneAnna del Mar
Genre: Romantic suspense,Contemporary romance,Military romance, SEAL romance.
Publisher: Carina Press
Date of Publication: February 22, 2016
eISBN: 9781459293526ASIN: B01765RJI2
Number of pages: 336 pages
Word Count: Approx. 95,000
Anna del Mar’s explosive, sexy debut novel in the Wounded Warrior series, perfect for fans of Lisa Marie Rice and Lora Leigh—the story of a woman desperate to escape her dangerous past and the navy SEAL who would lay down his life to save her.
Book Description:
Ash Hunter knows what it is to run. A SEAL gravely injured in Afghanistan, he’s gone AWOL from the military hospital. Physically and mentally scarred, he returns home to his grandmother’s isolated cottage—and finds a beautiful, haunted stranger inside.
Like recognizes like.
Lia Stewart’s in hiding from the cartel she barely escaped alive, holed up in this small Rocky Mountain town. Surviving, but only just. Helping the wounded warrior on her doorstep is the right thing to do…it’s loving him that might get them both killed.
Soon, Ash realizes he’s not the only one tormented by the past. Pushing the limits of his broken body, testing the boundaries of her shattered soul, he’ll protect Lia until his last breath.
Amazon     Carina Press    Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books    Google Play
Excerpt from Chapter One
My finger twitched on the trigger as I stared down the barrel of my shotgun. A stranger stood on my stoop. The mere sight of him shoved my heart into my throat and sent my brain into default. I widened my stance, tightened my grip on the gun and aimed at the stranger’s chest. No way. He wasn’t going to take me alive.A sharp bark startled me. The largest, darkest, most handsome German shepherd I’d ever seen stood next to the stranger, head tilted, ears forward, nose quivering in the air. It uttered a quiet whimper and padded over to me without a trace of aggression, circling me once before it leaned against my legs. I kept my shotgun leveled, but I spared another glance at the stunning dog. The plea in his eyes tempered the adrenaline jolting through my body, reined in my runaway heart and gave me pause to consider the stranger before me.Framed by the Rocky Mountains and the lake, the man at the threshold blocked the morning’s gray light and cast a huge shadow over my little porch. Raindrops tapped on his leather jacket, dripped from the rim of his cap and ran like tears down the sides of his face. Despite the exhaustion etched on his features, his glacial blue eyes narrowed on my gun. “That’s a pretty old Remington,” he rumbled. “With the damn safety off, no less. Who the hell are you expecting, Jack the Ripper?”“Stay back.” I forced the words out. “I’ll shoot if you come any closer.”“Damn it, girl,” he said. “If you want us to leave, just say so.”The scowl on his face contributed to his dangerous appearance. So did the scruffy beard and the shaggy hair sticking out from under his baseball cap. If he hadn’t come all the way out here to get to me—and that was still a big “if”—what on earth was he doing here? I couldn’t see any weapons on him. Was he a drifter? He didn’t look dirty, but a metallic scent wafted from him, an odd, ripe trace I couldn’t place. He must have seen my nose wrinkle. His whole body stiffened. He drew taller than six feet by several inches, but it was the outrage I spotted in his eyes that reinforced my fears.“Aren’t you a spitfire?” He pulled out a rumpled piece of paper from his pocket, balled it and dropped it at my feet. “Secluded, cheap and quiet, that’s what the ad said. But I don’t think you want to rent out a room, at least not to me. Come on, Neil,” he said to the dog. “Let’s leave this little hellcat to count her bullets.” He touched the rim of his baseball cap. “And a good day to you, ma’am.”He braced on a pair of sturdy crutches and hopped down from the stoop. Crutches? I should’ve noticed those before. The sable shepherd looked up at me, then nuzzled my hip and trotted off after his owner. The rubber bottoms of the man’s crutches stabbed the ground as he shuffled to the black truck parked in my driveway, a supercharged Ram 3500 that matched its owner’s brawn. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. Bad guys didn’t knock at your door. They didn’t back down, attack while on crutches or hobble away after they came for you. They didn’t call you ma’am, either. I picked up the crumpled paper and flattened it against the stair’s wobbly baluster. It was indeed the one flyer I’d dared to post at Kailyn’s convenience store, printed on pink paper, complete with the ten tear-off rectangles that listed my cell phone number. The ad. My brain came on line. He was here about the ad? Crap. Terror had a sure way of wiping reason from my mind. The ad talked about a stone cottage but didn’t include the address. True, mine was the only stone cottage around. Still, my stomach churned. I stared at the paper in my hands. He’d taken down the ad. Now I had exactly zero chance to rent out the room, which also meant that, since I’d have no money to make the rent, I was going to lose my little stone cottage. I was going to be homeless and I’d have to move on. Again.But I liked it here. The place suited me well. People in this secluded valley were nice and I’d managed to build a semblance of a life hidden out here. And what about my little friends out back? Who’d take care of them if I wasn’t around?The pound, that’s who.I took a deep breath and looked down on my flannel pajama pants and my extra-large sweater. With my hair up in a messy tail, I was pretty sure I looked like a gun-toting, gray-eyed witch, brimming with hostility. I’d just scared away my first and only customer. A top-notch German shepherd like that couldn’t belong to a crook. It was obvious that the owner took excellent care of his dog. If that wasn’t enough, the man got around on crutches. He couldn’t hurt me and, if he tried, I wouldn’t need a shotgun to defend myself. I’d just have to trip him.God, the things I thought about. Was I going to live in fear forever?Yes, I would, but living in fear was better than not living at all.

About the Author:
Anna del Mar writes hot, smart romances that soothe the soul, challenge the mind, and satisfy the heart. Her stories focus on strong heroines struggling to find their place in the world and the brave, sexy, kickass, military heroes who defy the limits of their broken bodies to protect the women they love. She is the author of The Asset (Carina Press), the first novel of her Wounded Warrior series and three other novels scheduled for release during 2016.
A Georgetown University graduate, Anna enjoys traveling, hiking, skiing, and the sea. Writing is her addiction, her drug of choice, and what she wants to do all the time. The extraordinary men and women she met during her years as a Navy wife inspire the fabulous heroes and heroines at the center of her stories. When she stays put—which doesn’t happen very often—she lives in Florida with her indulgent husband and two very opinionated cats.
http://www.annadelmar.com/pages/home.html
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAnnadelMar/
https://twitter.com/anna_del_mar

A Review of Fire Touched by Patricia Briggs

Fire Touched by Patricia Briggs
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Mercy Thompson is back in another non-stop adventure that leaves you turning pages until the end...and then you want more.

Fire Touched brings in characters we have seen previously in the books of the Alpha and Omega series and in Shifting Shadows: Stories from the World of Mercy Thompson. I love how Briggs stays true to her world and brings everything together. While the two series and the spin off short stories may be told from different characters POV and have a different voice, they all tie into this world and play a part in the big picture. If you have read all the books and short stories, you feel the puzzle pieces fitting together as you read Fire Touched.

But don't worry if you haven't read the the spin offs, you'll still get through just fine on the Mercy books alone without feeling like you're missing something.

Fire Touched opens in the Hauptman household. Mercy awakens from a nightmare, she feels that something bad is coming. Is it a premonition or just a nightmare? With Mercy you never know.

Either way life goes on as usual for the werewolf/coyote/human filled household- which means there is drama, power plays, and much supernatural mayhem.

Mercy and Adam simultaneously receive calls that something big is wreaking havoc on the bridge and humans are at risk. They are needed in town. Turns out it's a rampaging troll....a really big troll and Mercy and the pack need to stop it.

The troll is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg of what the Fae have in store. Tensions between the Fae, humans, and other supernatural factions have been growing more tense with each book. We're now on the verge of all out war. Now Mercy's pack has things the Fae want, mainly the fire touched child that lived in Underhill for centuries. He's come to them seeking protection from the Fae.

By offering the child protection, the pack now has a big Fae target on their back. And they have to protect themselves because no one else is coming to help. The Marrock has to distance himself from their pack so an all out war doesn't happen between werewolves and Fae, something Bran's been working hard to prevent.

The pack has to come together and be united or they won't survive. Mercy grows into her place in the pack and the pack member dynamics continue to evolve- and Mercy's relationship with Adam continues to grow as we see more of the depth of their bond. This is all showcased while they fight to do what's right and to survive the consequences of their actions.

Full of emotion and a roller coaster ride of action and adventure, Fire Touched will not disappoint.

View all my reviews