Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 362

Spotlight and Giveaway Handyman’s Crush by Jordan Ashton

Handyman’s CrushShifters of the Claiming KindBook SevenJordan Ashton
Genre: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance,M/M, shape-shifters
Publisher: Siren Publishing
Date of Publication: July 2015ISBN: 978-1-63259-633-8
Number of pages: 99Word Count: 24,977
Cover Artist: Harris Channing
Book Description:
The minute Ryan Forrester read Tobias Gale’s diary he found in the home he was renovating, he fell in love. The man Tobias described as his perfect soul mate is Ryan. When a family emergency brings Tobias home, Ryan tries to console him and help him through this trying time.
Tobias Gale’s world is turned upside-down when he gets a call from Ryan Forester telling him his mom had a stroke. He rushes home to find out that not only has she been keeping Ryan Forrester, the sexy handyman who lives with her a secret, but also something far more detrimental. Tobias’s whole life has been built on lies and he doesn’t know who to turn to for help. Luckily, Ryan is by his side offering him his ear and his heart to help him get through it all.
There are more secrets to uncover when Ryan’s wolf shifter past comes back to haunt him. After Ryan gets an ominous phone call from his brother, he knows danger is nearby. He has to solve the mysterious message while keeping everyone he loves safe from the man and organization that have been stalking him for years.

Bookstrand

Excerpt:
Tobias’s boss’s voicemail came on. He sighed in relief at having been spared the torture of talking to her directly. “Yeah, ah, Martha. It’s Tobias. I didn’t get a chance to call you before now, but I won’t be able to come in tomorrow or for the rest of the week. There’s been a family emerg–”Before he could continue, Martha replied, “Tobias?”He frowned. “Hi, Martha. I was just leaving you a message.”“Yes, I realized that. So did I hear correctly, you won’t be coming in this week because of a family emergency?”“Yeah, my mom had a stroke earlier today. I took a plane home as soon as I heard.”“I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope she’ll be better soon.”“Thanks.” He was astounded at how sympathetic Martha seemed.“About my work and the edits on John’s book.”“Don’t worry about that. Work and the edits can wait until your mom gets better and you come back to New York.”Tobias grinned with deep relief. “Okay, that’ll be great. Thanks so much for understanding.”“You’re welcome. We’ve all got a mother we love and who we want to help as much as we can. After all, they’ve done so much for us. It’s only right we return the favour.” Her tone turned assertive. “Concentrate on your mom and work will wait until you get back here. In the meantime, let me know how she’s doing soon.”“I will. Thanks again, Martha.”“No problem, Tobias. Bye.”He stared at the phone wondering if it really was Martha Benson he actually had spoken to or an imposter with a kind heart. He shrugged before using the app directory to get the number to St. Matthews Hospital. When he placed the call, an automated system came on. By the time he’d gone through the phone protocol, five minutes passed.A gentle and sweet female voice answered, “St. Mathews Hospital ICU. Nurse Smith speaking.”“Hi, I’m Gladys Gale’s son. I wanted to know if there’s been a change in her condition.”“Why yes, there has, Mr. Gale.” Tobias held his breath ready for bad news. “She’s awake and alert. It happened just a few minutes ago. I was in her room taking her vitals when she woke up. She asked me about you. She had heard you talking to her.”“Oh my God! That’s wonderful. I’ll head back there right away.”“Umm, the doctor is with her right now and I believe he’ll send her upstairs for an MRI and other tests now. Plus, it’s hospital policy –”“I know. I know. Not to have visitors in the ICU after visiting hours end.”“Yes, sir, but you can come in at ten tomorrow to see her. I promise I’ll check in on her just as soon as the doctor finishes examining her. I’ll make sure she’s all right and see if she needs or wants anything.”“Thank you, Nurse Smith, that’s so very kind of you.”“My patients are my number one priority, Mr. Gale, and your mother is such a sweetheart.”He smiled as his eyes misted with emotion. “Yes, she is.”“Good night, Mr. Gale.”“Bye.” He was all choked up.He didn’t wait to make sure he shut off the phone before rushing to the back of the house to tell Ryan the good news. He stopped in midstride after he turned the corner and witnessed Ryan exiting the bathroom. He had a tiny towel wrapped around his waist. His wide shoulders, brawny, hairless chest and ripped six-pack abs glistened with droplets of water on his skin, which accentuated his gorgeous, muscular physique and wayward sexual magnetism.Tobias’s eyes soaked in all the beauty while his mouth hung open and his mind turned to mush. It took him a few seconds to realize he was rudely ogling and started to turn away in embarrassment.Ryan said, while towel-drying his damp hair, “I’m done if you need to use it.”“Hmm, use what?”“The bathroom.” Ryan offered him a sidelong grin.“No, I don’t.” His brain function began to kick in again. “I was just looking for you to tell you the good news.”Ryan froze, staring at him wide-eyed.” What good news?”“My mom’s awake and alert, and she asked Nurse Smith about me.”Ryan walked up to him. His eyes and smile beamed as he wrapped his huge arms quickly around Tobias’s shoulders, hugging him tightly. Holy cow!He smelled of musk and lemon-scented body wash.“Yes, that’s the best news ever!” Ryan cheered.He stepped back. The teeny-tiny towel started to slide down his thigh with his motion, offering Tobias a quick peek. Ryan then quickly turned around, trying to grab the wet towel and re-wrap it, but not before Tobias got a good look at Ryan’s amazing derriere. Damn, that was the finest ass Tobias had ever seen.He almost let out a whimper of approval before Ryan said, “I better get dressed before I give you a real peep show.” Apparently, he had no idea he had already done just that. “I’ll be out in a minute.”Tobias pointed over his shoulder while his heart raced. “That’s all right. I’m heading to my old room to crash out. I want to wake up early to go see my mom as soon as visiting hours begin.”Ryan nodded. “All right. I’m going to bed now, too. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”“Yeah, bye.” Tobias turned, too distracted to see the wall before he slammed into it hard. He rubbed the side of his aching head as he hurried away, praying Ryan didn’t notice his clumsy maneuver.The protruding bump pulsed with heat as blood pooled into it. He needed to get ice on it, stat. It would help reduce the swelling and maybe cool down his body. He was hot and bothered and it was all Ryan Forrester the teaser’s fault.
About the Author:
Jordan Ashton is a writer and wife whose passion for reading romance novels led her to writing them, too. She believes love can conquer all and that it makes the world go round, not money. Her heroes, heroines, and the worlds she creates bring this belief to life. She is and will always be a true romantic at heart.
Website: https://authorjordanashton.wordpress.com/
Blog: http://authorjordanashton.blogspot.ca/
Bookstrand: www.bookstrand.com/jordan-ashton
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Author_J_Ashton
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006608238654
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Guest Blog Always Have and Always Will by Stella McLeod

Some people say authors are born not made, I think authors are just people who decide they want to write. The only problem is that once you begin there comes a time when you don’t want to do anything else.  I decided I wanted to write when I was a teenager. I was abysmal at Maths, Physics and Chemistry but I was good at English so I entered competitions and started winning awards. And that old adage about positive reinforcement strengthening behaviour? It’s true. But what I didn’t know and wasn’t to learn until I became a Clinical Psychologist was that intermittent reinforcement is the most powerful force in determining human behaviour. Like the majority of writers I’ve managed to keep writing and getting published, spasmodically but consistently, while being a mother and working in a full time occupation but a few years ago I decided to retire early from private full time practice as a Psychologist and that writing was going to be my full time, instead of part-time career. It wasn’t so much a leap of faith, rather than just reaching a crossroad and deciding which path gave me more joy, more fulfilment and the fact that all the clues were all there, like signposts, showing me which way to go. Most of my friends were writers, I spent all my free time either writing, thinking about writing or reading other writers. Over the years I’d written Medico-legal reports for the courts, professional journal articles and conference papers for Psychologists, scripts for pre-school TV shows, YA and teenage fiction books, a series of technical cookbooks for The Culinary Library and novel length romances. When I committed to writing full time I knew, both consciously and subconsciously, it was the Romance novels I wanted to focus on. One of the things I’d learned as a Psychologist was that, although every one’s stories and pain seem different there are common universal threads of humanity and we are more similar than we know.  For most people it is the complexities of human relationships that they seek to unravel, understand and master. We may all start off on different roads but they are all heading in the same direction, hoping for the same destination. Romance writing is the genre that, to me, best explores the many facets of human relationship, but in the end it is the ONLY genre that absolutely delivers what most people are ultimately looking for throughout all stages of their life from childhood to death, acceptance, love and a place of peace and acceptance where they feel good about themselves and the world. (or as my heroine in Always Have and Always Will says, she just wants to feel beloved on the earth.)I could easily and legitimately draw an analogy between Psychological Therapy and Reading Romance books. They both involve a stepping away from and temporary suspension of the everyday world, trust and faith that the therapist or author can deliver what they advertise and promise and the goal of a happy ending that makes the participant feel better about themselves, more in control and more optimistic about the world. The difference is romance readers don’t need and aren't looking to be told anything because they’re not looking for therapy in that sense. What they are looking for, I believe, is entertainment, to be shown a different world from theirs, an interesting and exciting one peopled with strangers, characters that they can quickly learn to love (or hate) and care about and ones they hope and know are going to find happiness if they can only stay strong and courageous.  Romance novels are a temporary escape from the pressures of everyday life and responsibility, they immerse the thoughts and emotions of the reader, literally, into a different world, with lives and problems that are entertaining and interesting, and a story that guarantees those problems will ABSOLUTELY all be sorted by the last page, or in my case the last word if necessary. (Never read the last pages of a book first, your subconscious wants a chance to work it out for you!)So why paranormal?  Always Have and Always Will is not about vampires, shape-shifter, werewolves or some of the other traditional paranormal species or human aberrations, it’s a paranormal in the sense that it introduces and normalizes the concepts of Immortality, reincarnation, life after death and mind control. These concepts are not so unfamiliar that we can’t believe in them and empathize with the characters and an added bonus is the beautiful and exotic setting they allow for the action to unfold.  Most paranormal characters require dark, gloomy and edgy setting to get about their bloody business. Ancient Immortals living today are more likely to be found in the Greek Islands, Egypt, Rome and Italy, Babylon and the lands mentioned in the Bible.  The added plot benefit with Immortality is the complications it allows for relationships and love. Immortality is shit if all the people you love are dead or if you keep making the same mistakes for centuries or if your love is unrequited, betrayed or abused. And lets face it, it doesn’t matter how many decades, centuries or millennium you live there are times in your life when you are going to want to feel beloved on this earth. So if you like a face-paced action, exotic settings and complex flawed characters with rich inner psychological lives who are searching for, and trying to understand, love, then you’ll love Always Have and Always Will. It’s characters and plot deliver on every promise with humor, vulnerability, strength and a plot twist you won’t see coming but will love.    The message ?  Never give up on loveWhy is it called the Omega Series?  Because it’s about time the heroine told the story and whilst we all love strong and delicious alphas, Romance Writers, I believe, are the most supportive and inclusive group of Omegas in the world. (and that included the male authors as well.) We all know the Greek alphabet begins with Alpha but did you know it ends with Omega? The Omega symbol in classical Greece was associated with Birth and Creation, symbolized the female and celebrated her ability to nurture a child thereby achieving immortality for both herself and her mate. Although manwas symbolized by the first letter of the Greek alphabet, Alpha, it was the Omega symbol that was considered the most auspicious and most blessed by the Gods.  Yaaaay!!!
Always Have and Always WillThe Omega SeriesBook 1Stella McLeod
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: October 1, 2015
ISBN: 1500270598ASIN: 978-1500270599
Number of pages:  264Word Count: 70,000
Formats available:  pdf
Cover Artist: Hang Le
Book Description: 
Reincarnation is easy until you have to face being murdered a second time. A life destroyed 2000 years in the past, a buried Greek temple with the secret to Immortality, ancient families torn apart by betrayal and a modern reincarnated woman who holds the key.
Ana Black thinks a villa on a Greek Island will be the perfect summer holiday but her plans don’t include Alexander Petrakis. He’s an ancient warrior who thinks he’s Immortal, says he’s waited 2000 years for her to return and claims she’s his reincarnated lover, a woman he freely admits he failed to protect in her past life. Even if she believes him and gives him a second chance, what hope he won’t fail her again?
With a past she cannot escape and a future he cannot accept, all they have is the present. Will they find a way or are they both out of time?

Available at AmazonChapter 1. Island of Monemvasia, Greece. Present day.
“I would rather be tied to the soil as another man’s serf ...than be King of all these dead and destroyed.” ~ HOMER, The Odyssey
When the last shutters close nothing moves but the wind in the trees and the thin fabric of my dress as it drums and billows in the air.I knew it was a mistake, like my hair. When I’d left it had been neatly arranged in a loose knot and now it’s unraveling out of control. Like my life.The streets are quiet and everyone is inside but I try not to think about the shitty weather, try to pretend it’s not a bad omen. The oppressive summer heat has given way to warm autumn days that gave no hint of the winter to come, the blue skies were bluer, the air cleaner.Until today. Today the grey started and rain threatened.A short while ago I felt safe, now my imagination creates danger where there is none. But it doesn’t matter, just like the rain and mist in the darkening streets don’t matter and the shutters closed against the coming storm don’t matter. The local villagers snug and warm behind those shutters though, are smarter than me.But I have no choice. I have to meet him or the Greek authorities are going to burn my passport, lock me up and throw away the key.I rub my arms, not for warmth but to brush away the goose bumps that thinking of Alexander Petrakis brings. I should be scared and I am, I should abandon my crazy plan but I can’t, and if I try walking any faster in these high-heeled shoes skipping the country is going to be a lot harder with a broken leg.So I keep my head down, watching for rising cobblestones that might trip me up and see a scruffy dog instead. He’s too happy to see me, too sad to be anything but a stray. If he were mine I’d have him inside on a night like this. So I stop for a few minutes to give him a scratch behind the ears and a few words of comfort.“Gotta go now,” I say shooing him off gently, making promises I can’t keep, watching him amble away with his hunched shoulders and limp tail in search of comfort and shelter he will never find. I walk away fast, think of other things but my hearts racing and breaking for not turning around and not doing the right thing. I should take a lesson from him, do a runner and take him with me. But it’s too late for me for that.I pass an ancient olive tree that flashes its leaves to me in the wind, flipping them silver to green then silver again, sending me a thousand SOS’s. I ignore their warning and instead look out to sea at the jutting island with its crumbling relic and ancient ruins that fills tourists with awe. I shudder. It makes my flesh crawl and affects my mood. Dark weather stirs dark thoughts, and dark thoughts are perfect for dark deeds.Across the narrow straight of choppy sea I estimate distance, current, and opportunity. It’s far, but not too far to steer a boat against the tide. I calculate the risk of missing the dock against the likelihood of being smashed against the rocks; glad I didn’t make that mistake.That mistake I avoided by going the long way around and walking across the long causeway, but I’ve made plenty of others. He’s chosen the place. I would have preferred the plush Chrisovoulo or the Kastraki for our meeting rather than his stuffy restaurant but he’s insisted, owns it evidently. I guess it doesn’t really matter in the end because I doubt I’ll feel safe anywhere in Greece at the moment. At the moment I just feel betrayed.I walk along the waterfront then turn into the small lane and make my way carefully up the steps to the Bellagio. I don’t want to open the door. That fact alone should chill me to the bone, insteadI’m on fire, feel slightly sick, getting a temperature maybe. I take a deep breath, push harder and step across the threshold into my future and a blast of hot air where my skin is cold, then hot, then cold again; tingling with dread or excitement, I’m not sure which. My senses are confused. My life is confused. Same old, same old, nothing new tonight then for Ana Black.

About the Author:
McLeod’s books deliver exotic and interesting locations with characters flawed in quirky everyday ways and as a Clinical Psychologist, she draws on psychological insights into human behaviour and motivation to bring her story and characters to life. Published for over twenty years in a variety of media including television, books, electronic and print media, with additional qualifications as a London trained chef, food writer and lecturer means her readers will always find psychological complexity, tension and food written into her books. Stella McLeod is a member of the Australian Romance Writers Association.
Web: www.Stellamcleod.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/di.gramp
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorstellamcl/   

Guest Blog- Reinheit by Thomas S Flowers

Not everyone wakes up and suddenly realizes, “Hey, I want to write about Nazis.” And not just Nazis, but tackling some of the most taboo of Americana topics. I’m talking about school shootings, domestic abuse, racism, rape, the bottom of the barrel of humanities darker half. Before you ask, no, there will be no major spoilers here. My aim is to give a little peek behind the curtain on some of the subject matter discussed in the book by looking at the characters that live inside the world of Reinheit. And perhaps some insight into what inspired me to write the macabre story in the first place!
For starters, what does Reinheiteven mean? Reinheit is the German word for purity or uncontaminated. Purity and contamination and how people define those terms are key themes throughout the entire book. From start to finish, those meanings play a significant role. Allow me, if you will, to show you what I mean through some of the characters you'll find within the pages. Let’s start with the villains!
Major Eric Schröder: As an Nazi SS officer, his character deals with purity in a very real and terrifying way. His secret life also plays into notions of purity and contamination.  He is a true believer in Hitler's vision of the Third Reich, the Thousand Year Reichas some of them have called it. He believes almostwithout question, though at times he does doubt the methodology. Schröder is in command of one of the Einsatzgruppenunits. These units are real and a tragic part of history. Made up of everyday men, regular blue collar folks, these units followed behind the regular German army into the eastern front and "liquidated" entire Jewish ghettos. The Einsatzgruppen were the solution before Concentration Camps turned into killing camps, before the gas chambers filled those shower with Zyklon B. In writing the story, I needed and wanted to use Schröder's character to give a foundation of sorts for the theme of purity. I want my audience to question how certain notions of purity can lead to terrible things. And while Schröder is a vile character for the horrifying things he does or orders others to do, he is, in his own way, a sympathetic character because of the secret life he is hiding, even from his own beloved SS. Or I should say, a secret hidden especially from the SS.
Frank Moss: Honestly, I really, really, really loathed Frank's character. I had to tap into some really dark places and imagine some really horrible things. Frank, much like Schröder, has a "different" look on life. He's a traditionalist in the worst kind of way. An abuser and gets off on the suffering of others, especially his wife, Rebecca. When writing, originally, Rebecca was going to be the mechanism paired with the armchair, the carrying on, of sorts, of historic sin. However, when Frank's character began to develop more fully, it became apparent that he would be the ideal host for the armchair to latch on to. Rebecca was simply the obstacle, in a way, that came between Frank's later possession and those he aimed to hurt. The only sympathy for Frank, that I found, was his family history. His father was a drunk and a fiend. The idea of Frank becoming just as his father was, is a common motif and a tragic reality. I'm talking statics, of course. Not every abused becomes the abuser. Frank and Schröder are both linked together in the story as antagonists because of their prolonged contact with the armchair, but will they share the same fate?
Next we’ll look at our heroine and the not-quite-villains category.
Rebecca Moss: What can I say about Rebecca? During her character introduction in the book, we see that she is both charitable and has a bit of a comedic side. Rebecca is one of the stronger characters in Reinheit, given her positive personality juxtaposed with the horror she endures from Frank. She is, I think, I tragic heroine. Her good nature confronts evil, yet, despite Frank’s brutality, she still loves him. She is also courageous, as she moves into the final act. However, when she faces a possessed Frank, what will she do? Will she finally make a stand, or will she continue to allow the torment? One of the questions I wanted to evoke with Rebecca was, “How much can good people take before they snap?”
Weber's Auction House: Okay. Not truly a “character” in the traditional sense, but I find the idea that places and things can absorb the essence of those it interacts with terrifying. I mean, what If someone really vile died on a particular piece of furniture? Or what about a building surrounded by tragedy? What would happen to those places and things? If the corruption and tragedy lived on in an echo? The armchair itself was born from this idea, as you see from the very get go in the book, as Schröder once owned the armchair that eventually possesses Frank Moss. Weber's auction house becomes the go-between with the past and the present. As it seems, the armchair is drawn to particular places equally as scarred as itself. The chapter dealing with Weber's auction house was my favorite. I love the idea of historic echoes, how strong emotions like tragedy can ripple through time and space and shape a place. The idea of Weber’s Auction House is the question: “What happens to our past civilizations? Are they really gone? Buried beneath us? Or does something, an essence you might say, live on?”
Braun: Despite his past, I really enjoyed writing Braun's character. He is the main human catalyst between the past and the present. He was part of the Einsatzgruppen unit under the command of Major Schröder, and carried out many damnable actions. And, in a way, he really never learned from his past mistakes. He is the very definition of a conflicted character trope. And a very tragic one, at that. There are moments where we glimpse him holding on to an old photograph of a little girl, assuming this to be his daughter. What happened to her, I wonder? His character confronts Rebecca Moss, but do not necessarily succeed. Despite his failings, I believe his was a brave-flawed character, if not perhaps a little insane at times! With Braun, I wanted to force the question of redemption.
Clyde: You will not see Clyde much in the story. He is a very minor character, among many. However, he does represent an important aspect of the theme, purity and contamination. His character also represents the idea of the sins of the father kind of motif. Different from Frank's abusive father, Clyde's dad was an intentional abuser, though not with fists, but with words and the things he shared with his son. Clyde also became a catalyst for the end...on that, I will not reveal too much. Clyde was also a fun character to write. A real creepy and simpleton. But dark and dangerous all the same.
Okay, so why did I write Reinheit? And what is my style of horror?
Well...to divulge this let me ask you what you think/feel when you hear the word NAZI. What comes to mind? Typically, when one thinks of the Holocaust and the Nazis, we think "blood thirsty Jew hating maniacs," right? Well…as it actually turns out, the Einsatzgruppen, and all Nazis for that matter (or most, I should say) were just regular folk, ordinary men and women who believed in their particular cause, as murderous and heinous as it was. There are many scholars and historians and psychologists that argue for the precise causality for such brutal actions as seen during this time period; however, how can there be only one cause? I think Hannah Arendt said it best, that "the sad truth is that most evil is done by people who never make up their minds to be good or evil." In the end, perhaps maybe it all boils down to our culture and how we see the world, which is a precarious conversation in and of itself. It is my opinion that when see other people as them and not us, we compartmentalize people into boarders. We no longer see people as just that, people. The Einsatzgruppen has taught us a lesson that came at a terrible price, yet the world ultimately continues to function all the same. We still think in terms of us and them. Or as one of my history professors once put it, “We think in terms of othering.” Or, to paraphrase John Carpenter, “The camp fire story is an easier one to sale. The enemy is out there, not us, in the woods, away from the fire. The other story is harder to tell. When we say we have met the enemy, the enemy is us, we are the enemy.” Though, as hard as it may be, I honestly, unequivocally, believe that horror is one of the best mediums in which to have these kinds of discussions. I write horror because I love the genre and because it is the most honest expression of social commentary -- period. Horror forces audiences to ask questions without the sticky humdrum of actually answering anything, and instead, allowing people to come to their own conclusions.
My stylein horror I'd say is realism, because, as stated above, "storytelling reveals meaning without committing the error of defining it." I love monster stories, but the best monster stories deal with the banality of it. The real horror is that we all in some capacity are capable of committing horrible acts, either it be cutting someone off on the highway or cutting someone off with a chain saw, living within each and every one of us. The definitive question remaining, how we react to said evil .


ReinheitThomas S Flowers
Genre: Thriller
Publisher: Booktrope
Date of Publication: July 29, 2015
ISBN: 1513701673ASIN: B013118P92
Number of pages: 184Word Count: 62,200
Cover Artist: Travis Eck
Book Description:
Rebecca Moss never questioned the purchase of the strange seductive armchair. She wanted to please Frank. But the armchair has a dark purpose. Nazi officer Major Eric Schröder believed fervently in Hitler's vision of purity. Now the chair has passed to Frank, an abusive thug who has his own twisted understanding of patriotism. There are those who want to destroy the armchair, to end its curse. But can the armchair be stopped before it completes its work?
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/f6PWf_qW1Xg
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Excerpt:
The Eastern Front, Lithuania. July 1941.The armchair moaned delightfully as Major Erich Schröder sat. Outside, the sun burst into the mountain ridge, filling the sky with brilliant orange and red flames. Schröder watched out the open window from his seat in front of a dormant fireplace. He poured a glass of Berentzen Doornkaat schnapps from the decanter he had brought with him from home. Helen had packed it for him, wrapped with last month’s funny pages. One of the strips discarded in the waste bin revealed a valiant rosy cheeked Dutchman named Conrad, demonstrating the power of solidarity in the factory workforce. The energetic and turbulent rhythm of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony floated into the room from some far off record player in the barracks. Love this performance. Schröder closed his eyes and sunk farther into the armchair. The cool leather and haunting harmony of Beethoven set his mind at ease, comforting his weary bones. The comfort abated his thoughts, for the moment at least, of what lay ahead and the unordinary expectations levied upon his young shoulders by high command.Expectations? he thought. God help us. Schröder lifted his glass and took a long gulp, biting down against the burning sensation crawling in his throat. Expectations… Horrible, horrible expectations… But it must be done. Himmler has given the order, and so it must be. Ein Völk, ein Reich, ein Führer. For we are one people, one nation, of one leader…Schröder had believed in the vision for a thousand-year Reich ever since he was a young boy, serving in the Hitler youth movement, following in the shadow of Herbert Norkus, the child martyr. Schröder believed in his führer fervently and demonstrated so by enlisting in the Waffen officer program when he became of age. And that strong belief made him stand out from among his peers to become a full party member of the Schutzstaffelorder, the dreaded and feared SS. And even after receiving his first orders, being forced to follow on the boot heels of the regular army into the Eastern Front, he retained his faith in the great commission, the plan to save Germany, to bring the Fatherland into rebirth, renewal, into purification…but at what cost? he wondered.“Major?” called a strong male voice from outside the door, interrupting Schröder’s thoughts.“Who is it?” asked Schröder. He took another long swig before rubbing the cold glass against his temple, struggling to abate the crest of an emerging headache.“Lieutenant Braun, sir.”Ah, yes, Braun. The thought of the handsome lieutenant was not unpleasant. Unlike the rest of the old reservists assigned to his unit, Braun was different, younger than Schröder, which wasn’t saying much. But Braun is local, Schröder recalled, just like the other swine. Well…the lieutenant must be the exception, proving not all of Lithuania is as ghastly as it appears. Perhaps there are some redeeming qualities, he thought with a hungry smile.“Enter,” Schröder finally answered. His face returned to its narrow coldness. He brushed his short-cropped, wavy, blond hair to the side. He crossed his legs and stared into the fireplace, as if contemplating a fire.The door opened. Schröder listened to the marching of feet coming to a halt directly behind the armchair. He guessed there were at least two men, uniforms flat as iron, brown as earth, with burning red armbands and swastikas on each muscular biceps. The last being a fantasy, of course, most of the men under his command were police reservists from the rural portions of the country, not at all the physique of physically disciplined soldiers. Well, except for Braun. He is most certainly fit. Schröder took another gulp from his favorite schnapps, quietly fantasizing Braun’s undergarments, waiting on either of the reservists to speak, but no one did. Only silence, except for the ice cubes ringing against his crystalline glass.“What is it?” Schröder asked impatiently, his breath on fire. His head felt dizzy.“Sir…” began Braun, his voice boyish but prudent.“For God’s sake, spit it out,” Schröder barked.“The delivery, sir. It has arrived.”“Delivery?”“The cases of schnapps, sir.”“Oh, yes, good,” said Schröder taking another swig, nearly killing the glass. “Assign a small detail and unload some of the boxes into one of the storage rooms. Keep the rest on the truck,” he ordered with heated breath.“Yes, major.”“Use the quartermaster’s room, if you must. When you’re finished, have the rest of the company form up in the courtyard,” Schröder ordered. His mind began to drift between his nearly empty glass and the sound of crows squawking about outside the window, desperately searching for a place to nest before winter. A strong breeze found its way inside. The odor of pine and spruce filled his quaint personal quarters decorated with yellow flower wallpaper and a quaint single bed covered in soft linen sheets. An old quaint oak dresser and vanity sat next to the bed, and a small quaintcircular kitchen table, also made of solid oak, sat on the other side of the fireplace. The burgundy leather Queen Ann high back armchair was last of the furniture.Schröder waved his hand in his usual form of dismissal. He listened to the snapping of boot heels as the men shouted in unison, “Sieg, Heil!”“And, lieutenant…” Schröder added.“Yes, major?” asked Braun.“Keep it quiet.”“Sir?”“I don’t want a bunch of questions about why we have the liquor on the truck. I want this done quickly and quietly, understood?”“Yes, sir.”The men filed out, leaving Schröder alone again. He sat there and took another sip of schnapps, watching the dead untouched logs with little interest. Outside, the sun had fully disappeared behind the mountain ridge. The sky was black. His mind went to the hundreds of boxes of cheap apple liquor in the cargo truck outside in the courtyard. The men will need it, after today, he thought. After tonight, and the next night, and the night after that, and so on and so forth until this madness is over. Until the solution has been answered. When the vermin are eradicated, removed, liquidated from the purity of the Reich. The rats, the money-grubbing Jews, stabbed us in the back in Versailles, but never again. Schröder smiled weakly and took another gulp, finishing off the glass with a grimace. The ice was cold, but the liquor burned going down, warming his otherwise empty stomach. Licking his lips, he slumped deeper into the armchair. The cushions felt more than welcoming. The Queen Anne was soft, yet sturdy, dependable, and dare he say, comforting? Yes. Yes, even in a waste of a country as Lithuania, given nightmarish orders. Yes, even here, something as simple as a chair could be comforting. It whispered to him. The tall backrest shielded him from the world and told him everything was going be fine. The voice lingered with Schröder like a fat dark cloud caught in a valley before a storm. Where have you been? he wondered. Who last sat on you? Who else have you comforted?Who will you comfort when I’m gone? You’re mine, you know that? You’ll always be mine. His thoughts teased real jealousy.Schröder recalled when the armchair had first arrived. He remembered when Himmler, the führer’s shadow, had delivered it personally from Latvia. A gift, supposedly, for Schröder’s first command. Himmler arrived in the dead of night and Schröder had thought it odd for someone of his stature to take the time to visit someone new in the order. Or perhaps that was the reason for the visit. Did he come to inspect me, my men, our resolve?Schröder waved the thought away with his empty glass. Does it matter? Was it really so strange for a man like Himmler to drop in, even unannounced? No.Schröder knew of Himmler’s obsessive reputation and the simple fact that the man commanded all of the SS, including all the Einsatzgruppen units, with the entire final solution for the Jewish question residing on his shoulders, was warrant enough for paranoid examinations. I’d do the same thing in his place, Schröder believed. How could he not? While the regular Waffen army served a purpose, driving back the vile communist filth, the Einsatzgruppen, the killing squads, as rumored to be called by some of the men, were given orders of the upmost import. On our shoulders alone sits victory for Germany. Only through us can Himmler succeed and thus Hitler’s final solution be answered. Only through us can the one-thousand-year Reich be achieved. So, when an officer like Himmler drops in unannounced, bearing a gift for your recently awarded commission, you do not turn him away, and you most certainly do not ask questions, Schröder weighed, pouring another glass of schnapps when his door thundered yet again.“Major?” called Lieutenant Braun in his usual vigor manner.“Yes?” answered Schröder.“The detail is done and the men have begun to form up, sir.”Schröder peeled himself begrudgingly from the armchair. His skin felt as if it were being ripped away from the leather. It was difficult, more than it should have been, for Schröder to get to his feet. It was as if gravity were working against him. The more he moved, the more he didn’t want to move. He hesitated to leave the warm comfort of the high-back armchair, or the warm breeze from the window, or the bottle of schnapps, or even his lonely late-night fantasies of a bare-backed Lieutenant Braun in his chambers. Schröder pictured the young lieutenant naked, erect, pulsating with heat, and smelling of plums. But Schröder knew he had no time for fantasies such as those, not now. Now he had a job to complete, the commission, and until then he would not be able to return home to Munich, to his beloved Helen, and their faux marriage, and her ravenous breasts and plump lips he absolutely had no desire for. But, despite his pretentious social mask, of which he so often hid, that fairy tale existence was more enjoyable and pleasing than the cold nothingness of Lithuania. At least in Munich he could have something more than fantasy. Full moons he could sink his teeth into and lustful adventures out on Blumenstraße’sdark avenue, where men and boys overfilled his cup. A place where names were never asked, never given. Or at least not real names.God help me if anyone ever found out. He shuddered. They’d stich a pink badge on a pair of rags and send me on the midnight train to Dachau, or worse. Auschwitz-Birkenau.And what would poor Helen think of the charade? That her husband loved the taste of cock? She would be absolutely abashed! Schröder let loose a faint dry laugh despite the remnant fear of being caught lumped heavily in his heart.There was another soft knock at the door. “Sir?” asked Braun. “Is everything okay?”“I’ll be out in a moment,” the major barked.Schröder pulled himself from the comfortable armchair and smoothed out the wrinkles in his black uniform. He noticed a scuff mark on the toe of his otherwise perfectly gloss black boots. Frowning, he crossed over to the small table, set down his empty glass, and picked up a rag. Kneeling, he polished out the blemish in quick sweeps. He stood and looked himself over in the vanity. Satisfied with his appearance, Schröder opened the door to his room. Lieutenant Braun was just outside, alone, and snapping to attention. One hand shot down to his side while the other flew upward, palm down, fingers held firm together and straight, as one might imagine how the Romans may have saluted Caesar.“Sieg, Heil,”shouted Braun.Schröder returned the salute, smiling on the inside. Licking his lips. At least there was more than just the lieutenant’s physique and beautiful bright blue eyes that he admired. Braun was, if anything else, dedicated, loyal, and obedient. Qualities one should always surround themselves with.“Sir,” Braun’s arm returned to his side, “If I may, why have we assembled the men at such an hour?” he asked, nodding toward the dark sky outside the hallway window.“Judenfrei,” replied Schröder.Braun did not mask his confusion.“Do you believe it is possible?” Schröder added, almost singing.“To be free of Jews? Yes, major.” Braun still looked confused.“How?”Major Schröder knew the young lieutenant could not answer. How could he? He had only the slightest idea. A rumor, at best…as for the particulars in how the Reich would free themselves of Jews. Only the higher echelons knew. Most assumed the same fate the POWs met, when the Communist sympathizers and partisan survivors had been gathered to the labor camps, and would think this seemed a possible solution for the Jews as well. Made sense. To collect them and then transport them off to the camps as well. But how can that be? Schröder thought. Of all the camps, certainly they could not hold all the Jews in Lithuania, nor all the POWs, gypsies, criminals, or homosexuals, all of the Reich’s undesirables. There were too many enemies and simply not enough room for them all. Certainly, Braun has mulled through all this.“Well, lieutenant?” prodded Schröder. “Let’s hear it.” The Major smiled foxily.Braun looked white, befuddled in his confusion. He almost seemed to laugh. Perhaps a sudden idea had sprung to mind? A terrible idea? Whatever the cause, the lieutenant remained silent. Is he thinking of what I’ve been ordered? Of mass extermination? All of them? Schröder could sense the lieutenant’s unease. He looked flushed and short of breath. He knows. He simply doesn’t want to say it out loud. It would be too horrible, unfathomable to say out loud, the major thought. He understood because he felt the same unease within himself, the unease of exterminating an entire people. The annihilation of European Jewry. The weight of killing not just the men, but women and the children, both the very young and the infirm. But we must, for the nation. For the purity of the Reich.“Lieutenant, I am going to tell you something that will not be easy to hear. In fact, it’ll be damn near impossible to hear,” Schröder began. “But we must. Such courage will be needed if we are to succeed in our mission…for the purity of the Reich.” Yes, Erich, keep telling yourself that. But at what cost? How much are you willing to pay? At the cost of your own soul? Your sanity? Schröder pushed his weakness away. “Our goal will require the strongest will. Tonight, we will march toward Kovno, arriving at the break of dawn.” Schröder paused. He took a deep breath. “We will then begin the process of eradicating the vermin from the Kovno ghetto. For the purity of the Reich, the infestation must be absolutely eradicated. There can to be no survivors, lieutenant. Do you understand what I am saying?” Schröder watched. Waited.Braun was a ghost, as white as death. “We are to…kill them, major? All?”“Is it villainess to put down a diseased dog? Or is it an act of mercy?” asked Schröder.Braun was silent. He nodded quietly.Schröder nodded as well, but said nothing. They said nothing for some time. Neither would look at each other. In the silence, Schröder could hear voices stirring from outside through the second floor hallway window. In the courtyard below, Bravo Company was beginning to wonder, no doubt, why they had been ordered into formation at such a late hour in the night. Schröder oddly began to wonder himself what Helen was doing back home. Meeting up with a friend for dinner, perhaps? A male escort? That would be something, he thought numbly. Finally, Schröder looked at Braun, who stood as a specter in the hallway. Schröder wanted to embrace him, to hold his firm chest against his own, to feel the panicked and disturbed heartbeat in rhythm with his. Schröder wanted to brush Braun’s slicked black hair, to part his lips and pull Braun close, and feel his large bulge and well-manicured hands. But Schröder pushed away the fantasy. Instead, he told Braun of Himmler’s orders, the commission of the Einsatzgruppen units. That they were to enter the Eastern Front, in four separate commands. In Kovno, Bravo would herd the Jews into the town square, dividing the men fit for labor from the rest.The laborers would be ushered to the train yard, destined for Höss’ newly operational Auschwitz camp, while the others would be marched into the nearby forest. They would dig graves deep enough for a city municipal bus and then the Jews would strip. And the brave, ordinary men of Bravo Company would aim their shot with bayonet and fire into the base of the skulls of countless girls, boys, hags, gimps, and the sick. The infants would be bashed against the side of walls to make quick use of their time. One round per Jew… God forgive us, but this is how the Reich will be judenfrei. This is how the Reich will become pure again, Schröder thought, his hands quaking terribly. He gave one last longing look into his bedroom, his gaze settling upon his high-back armchair.‘I can do this, I have to do this, and so it must be done,’ a strong whispering voice reassured him. With his eyes still on the chair, tracing the elegant blemishes were blotches of brown grew darker and then lighter, Schröder exhaled, “Ein Völk, ein Reich, ein Führer,” just audible enough for Braun to hear him.Braun snapped to attention, still ghostly, and threw out his right arm, “Sieg, Heil!”Schröder returned the salute vigorously. And then the two abandoned the hall to join the men of Bravo Company outside in the courtyard. Nearing the tall pine door entrance, Major Schröder stopped and turned.“Have my armchair loaded into one of the cargo trucks,” Schröder said. “The Queen Anne will accompany us to Kovno.”Braun did not question the order.Schröder did not explain.






About the Author:

Thomas S Flowers was born in Walter Reed Medical Center, Maryland to a military family. He grew up in RAF Chicksands, England and then later Fort Meade, and finally Roanoke, Virginia. Thomas graduated high school in 2000 and on September 11, 2001, joined the U.S. Army. From 2001-2008, Thomas served in the military police corps, with one tour in South Korea and three tours serving in Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom. While stationed at Fort Hood, Texas, between deployments, Thomas met his wife and following his third and final tour to Iraq, decided to rejoin the civilian ranks.
Thomas was discharged honorably in February 2008 and moved to Houston, Texas where he found employment and attended night school. In 2014, Thomas graduated with a Bachelor in Arts in History from University of Houston-Clear Lake. Thomas blogs at www.machinemean.org, commenting and reviewing movies, books, shows, and historical content. Thomas is living a rather simple and quite life with his beautiful bride and amazing daughter, just south of Houston, Texas.
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/ThomasSFlowers   
Twitter: https://twitter.com/machinemeannow    
Website/Blog: http://machinemean.org/   
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Thomas-S.-Flowers/e/B008ML8VBE/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9537035.Thomas_S_Flowers





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Guest Blog and Giveaway Sins of Long Ago by Naomi Bellina

Family Feuds: How long should you hold a grudge?
The Hatfield and McCoy feud lasted twenty-eight years, according to Wikipedia, with plenty of bloodshed and even a romance. Wow. Twenty-eight years is a long time to hold a grudge, but I guess they didn't have mediators or lawyers back in the mid to late 1800's. You got pissed at someone, you passed it down from generation to generation. It sounds crazy to me. I'm all about looking for common ground and forgiveness. Life is too short to waste being mad at someone, when usually, there's a way to resolve most any issue.
In Sins of Long Ago, Vincent's family holds a grudge against Gen's family. Seems the witches didn't approve of werewolves and took matters into their own hands. And that, my friends, is how trouble starts. One person feels strongly that their opinion is right, and that it's okay to force it on others at any expense. Like poor Vincent and Gen don't have enough issues to deal with, they have to contend with a family feud.
Speaking of family feud, read this article on Wikipedia about how modern day Hatfield and McCoy's settled their argument. And won some money while they did it. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hatfield%E2McCoy_feud
How about you? Do have a feud going on in your family? Enjoy the excerpt and thanks for reading.



Sins of Long AgoNocturneBook 2Naomi Bellina
Genre:  Paranormal romance
Publisher: Liquid Silver BooksDate of Publication: 7/27/2015
ISBN:  9781622102372ASIN:  B01051ZNZU
Number of pages:  189Word Count: 71,000
Book Description:
Werewolves and humans don't mix. Until danger forces an alliance and desire demands satisfaction.
Leading his pack of werewolves keeps Vincent plenty busy, and now with a predator out to harm them, life is more perilous than ever. The last thing he needs is a woman to complicate matters, especially one who sets his body and soul on fire. She's a human and a witch — totally the wrong woman for him. Even if he could take a mate for his own, he refuses to put her in the danger his life has become. No way can they ever be together. Werewolf-style love is fine anyway. No permanent partner, no bullshit, no heartache.
Genevieve has never known true love. Cursed by an enraged woman long ago, females in her family are doomed to go insane if they fall in love. Life has been fine without a man around-- until a hot werewolf drops in and captures her heart. Though they have plenty of obstacles to overcome, Gen knows they can work past them. Tell that to Vincent, as he struggles with old pack rules about love, sex, and consorting with humans.
As Vincent searches for a killer, deals with death among his own, and tries to keep his hands off Gen, she attempts to end her family curse. Together, they must find a way to break free from the sins of long ago.
Heat level: 3 out of 4
Liquid Silver Books   All Romance   Amazon   BN
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Excerpt 3 rated R  957 words
“Have I managed to turn you off yet? Scared you away?” With one finger, Vincent gently moved her chin, tipping her face toward him.In his dark eyes she saw unease, despite the sureness of his words.“I’m also the leader of a pack of werewolves who need my attention. I work long hours with my job and the pack, and now and then my phone rings all night. Once a month, sometimes more, I turn into a wolf and hunt, kill, and eat animals.”Gen caught her breath.“Now are you scared?” he asked, lowering his lips toward hers.A little, but not only for the reasons he thought. Vincent stirred feelings in her, desires she’d buried long ago and had no intention of digging up until she’d met him.The kiss started slow, tentative, as though he were gauging her response. Beneath the gentle movements of his lips she detected a hunger, a need, so close to the surface she could taste it. His scent, which had tantalized her as soon as she’d come near him, rose stronger, sending a burst of moisture between her legs. She moaned, the arousal that had begun the moment they’d touched scorching a path down her nerves. Her body moved almost of its own accord, leaning into him. She opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue and the feel of his arms pulling her in, suddenly desperate to be closer to him, to feel the warmth of his body, the touch of his fingers caressing her skin.He cupped the back of her head with one hand as he increased the intensity of the kiss. The other hand slipped under her shirt and curled around her ribs. He was hot, warmer than her own body temperature. His thumb stroked her stomach, and then his hand moved up until he reached her bra.In the distance an owl hooted. The fire snapped and crackled, but these sounds only dimly registered. In the forefront of her senses she heard Vincent’s breath and her own, both coming fast and hard. He cupped her breast over the fabric and squeezed, then with a moan, tore his mouth from hers and moved it to her neck. He kissed and licked there, biting the skin lightly with his teeth. She felt his body shudder and suspected he held back from what he really wanted to do to her.He pulled away again and reached in his pocket.“Look, I’m turning off my phone. I don’t very often, but I need uninterrupted time with you.”His voice, hoarse with desire, sent molten flames licking at her spine. She took the moment apart from him to catch her breath. Did she have a blanket in her car? She longed to get out of her clothes, to feel his naked body on top of hers. Skin to skin, soft on hard.He cupped her cheeks with hot, rough hands she had to have touching her body. Now.“Tell me if I’m going too fast. I want you so bad.”Too fast? Hell no. She could not wait to run her fingers along every inch of him, to touch him everywhere. Start with the rough stubble on his face, move down his neck, through the hair on his chest. Then stroke his firm stomach, over that low patch of hair, down to his cock. It’d be hard, so hard, and would fill her hand like she was meant to hold it.“No, please, don’t stop.” Oh God, was that her, begging like a dog in heat?His mouth covered hers hungrily, and he crushed her body to him again, this time with both strong arms. His hands roamed up her back and trembled slightly as they caressed her. He undid her bra, then slid his fingers to her breasts and brushed his thumbs against her taut peaks.She whimpered into his mouth. Her nipples had hardened the moment he touched her; they were now painfully erect, and she longed for him to take them in his mouth. As though reading her mind he grabbed her sweater and bra and pushed the clothing up to her chin, then bent his head to her breast. He licked and sucked one while his thumb and forefinger fondled the other, the movement flooding a current of desire from her scalp to her toes.As often happened when she became sexually stimulated while outdoors, the elements responded to her growing excitement. The wind blew, rustling the fallen leaves, and the fire flared up, matching the burning heat in her core. No one had ever stirred such passion in her, such longing for more. She’d not let herself feel this deeply with a man. Never. She undid the fastener on her jeans and pulled down the zipper, then guided Vincent’s hand there.He continued his attention to her breasts and slipped a hand inside her pants. Cupping her pussy with his palm, he used one finger to stroke and probe through her underwear. She squirmed in his hand, desperate to have him go deeper. He finally pushed the elastic aside and eased his finger into her slick folds. She knew she must be sopping wet by now. Tilting her pelvis, she begged him with her body to rub her clit, pushing into his hand. She was wound up like a vintage alarm clock; it wouldn’t take much to send her over the edge.Finally he touched her nub, ever so gently. She groaned in frustration, and he growled, the sound sending even more currents of heat through her.“I’m taking my time with you, woman. I want you hot.”“If I get any hotter I’ll turn into steam. I need to…”
A sudden noise interrupted.

About the Author:
Naomi lives in sunny Florida with the love of her life and a magical calico cat. She writes for various fiction and non-fiction markets but is drawn to romance because her characters insist on canoodling and falling in love. So she lets them. Her interests include dancing, motorcycle riding, drumming and creating healthy meals. She takes the opportunity to play whenever possible.
Her motto:  Never pass up the opportunity to have an adventure!  
Visit her at http://www.naomibellina.com/
http://www.naomibellina.com/
http://www.facebook.com/NaomiBellina
https://twitter.com/TheGoddessNaomi
https://www.tsu.co/NaomiBellina

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Kindle Freebie October 5-9 Bewitching Brews and Devilish Desserts

Bewitching Brews and Devilish Desserts 
A Collection of Cocktail and Dessert Recipes
Edited by Roxanne Rhoads

Paperback: 50 pages

Publisher: Bewitching Books

ISBN-10: 1502947013

ISBN-13: 978-1502947017
ASIN: B00PE0BNES

Book Description:

Stir up a little magic from our cauldron full of cocktails and desserts. 

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Celia’s Werewolf Top 10- Favorite Werewolves from Movies, TV and Books

Hi Everyone!

Happy to be on Fang-tastic Books to celebrate the release of Under A Mating Moon, my new Wolf shifter paranormal romance!

Our furry, fangy friends are loads of fun, don’t you think?  Here are my top ten favorite werewolves in movies, TV, and books (books I haven’t written, that is).

In no particular order…

MOVIES
1. The Underworld movies.  Love all of those digitally rendered Lycans.

2. Wolf (1994), starring Jack Nicholson. Seriously, it’s **Jack Nicholson**. Enough said. :-)

3. An American Werewolf in London (1981). Great humor and creepy transformation effects.

TV
4. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Seth Green as Oz is the best.  It’s **Joss Whedon’s** work, people!

5. Vampire Diaries. Michael Trevino as Tyler Lockwood is super broody but fun.

6.  True Blood. Joe Manganiello as Alcide Herveaux.  The definition of sexy.

7. The Originals. Joseph Morgan as Niklaus Mikaelson. He’s a vampire/werewolf hybrid, but one hundred percent entertaining badass! 

BOOKS
8. Immortals After Dark Series by Kresley Cole.  Love all of her werewolves, particularly the stubborn and sexy Bowen MacRieve.

9. Guardian series by Keri Arthur. Riley Jenson, a vampire/werewolf hybrid. A fierce heroine and fun to read.

10. Anita Blake series by Laurell K. Hamilton.  All her wolves are fascinating, especially kindhearted, sexy, and brave Jason.

Under a Mating MoonBlack Hills WolvesBook 27Celia Breslin
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Date of Publication: September 18, 2015
ISBN: 9781613338940ASIN: B0148W4RHW
Number of pages: 114Word Count: 32,200
Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde
Book Description:
British Alpha wolf Jake Matthews spends his days among humans, pursuing a lucrative music career and avoiding his pack’s politics. When his current DJ tour takes him to the US, he stops in Los Lobos to visit family, and runs into the one Wolf he never wants to see again—the mate who rejected his claim.
While visiting her brother in Los Lobos, free-spirited Lexi Luparell is shocked to encounter the Wolf she’d denied when they were teens. Now she must face her guilt for the cruel way she spurned him all those years ago, make amends, and admit the truth. Jake was right all along—they’re meant to mate.
Lexi would love to explore the mate concept and her overwhelming attraction to virile, alpha Wolf Jake, but he wants nothing to do with her. How can she break down his defenses when she’s the reason he built them in the first place?
Jake dates only human women now. Lexi had her shot at being his mate, and she threw it away. But when her life is threatened, he may have to rethink his position and do whatever it takes to claim his one true mate.
AllRomance    Amazon    BookStrand     Kobo    Goodreads Excerpt:
A billion butterflies battered Lexi's stomach. She shifted her attention from Ross to the piano. Sure enough, the music had stopped, and Jake faced her from his seat on the bench. Man oh man, the heavy stare from those sky blue eyes sent shivers skittering down her spine. His gaze held the same intensity she remembered from him as a kid, as if he saw into the heart of people, exposing their deepest secrets. It had driven her crazy back then, and she'd spent much time teasing him, pulling his hair, trying to distract him from being so serious all of the damn time. They were teenagers—partying was supposed to be their sole focus.
With his ice-blue stare locked on her, Jake rose to his feet, all taut muscle and predatory power. His energy swept over her like a tsunami, forcing all of the moisture to abandon her mouth while parts much lower wept with want. Her inner Wolf howled, answering the call of this Alpha, the first Dominant male ever to make her sit up and take notice. Holy crap. Her muscles shook with the need to bound over to him, jump in his arms, wrap her legs around his torso and writhe against his hard, hot, tattooed body.
Jake said something to his uncle then stalked straight at her, cutting a path right through the middle of the tables and the many, too-curious patrons.
A whimper escaped her throat.
Surprise sparked in her brother’s brown eyes. "You're kidding me. Him?" He burst out laughing. "Wow, sis, that's some major, big-time irony right there."
Darci’s expression conveyed her bewilderment. "Now what are you two talking about?"
Her annoying brother grinned. "See that angry Alpha headed our way? My sister here rejected him when they were teens and he's apparently her—"
Lexi socked her brother in the ribs. "Shut it, Ross."
"Ouch." Ross rubbed his side and chuckled at her plight. The jerk. "Come on, Lexi, you have to admit the hilarity of the situation."
No, she did not. Nor did she have to admit that J-Bird was right all those years ago. He was her mate. O to the M to the G…. They were mates.
Even so, he didn't look happy to see her at all. In fact, he looked positively enraged. Shit, shit and triple shit. What a mess she'd made eight years ago. Well, she was woman enough to pull on her big-girl panties and fix it. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin in challenge, meeting Jake's stormy stare. He halted before her.
I can do this. "Hey J-Bird. Nice to see you." Lovely. Her voice sounded like she'd eaten the gravel from the lot in front of Gee's bar. Embarrassment heated her cheeks.
One breath, two breaths, three…. J-Bird glared. Tension coiled between them in the silence. Lexi bit the inside of her cheek to avoid babbling at him. She'd said hello. It was his turn. Damn it, J-Bird, say something. He wasn't making this easy.
"Alexina."  His arctic tone dismissed her and slapped her in the face at the same time, leaving her disappointed and confused. No one called her by her full name. No one except her parents when she'd done something wrong as a kid. He might as well have said, "Screw you," while slamming a door in her face.
His focus shifted to her brother. "Hello, Ross. Been a while." His hand shot out to grasp her brother's in a cordial shake.
"Good to see you, Jake. Join us for lunch? My treat. We can catch up on old times."
"No, thank you. I'm done. Nice to see you again, Ross." Jake nodded at Darci. "Miss." He brushed past them and out the door.
"What. Just. Happened?" The, “I'm done,” he uttered in his delicious British accent seemed aimed more at her than at her brother's offer. And the fact he hadn't even looked at her before stalking out all sexy in his gloom and doom? Yeah, that hurt.
"I think you know, sis." The amusement left her brother's face and sympathy glimmered in his gaze. "Question is, what are you going to do about it?"
She'd never run from a fight in her life. She wouldn't start now. "Grab a table. I'll be back in a second. Or not." She ignored her brother's knowing grin and hurried out the door.



About the Author:
Celia lives in California with her husband, daughter, and two feisty cats. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and has a particular fondness for werewolves, vampires, and the Fae. Her award-winning vampire series - The Tranquilli Bloodline - is available from Champagne Books.  Under A Mating Moon is her second werewolf story for Decadent Publishing’s multi-author, shifter line: Black Hills Wolves.
When not writing, you’ll find Celia exercising, reading a good book, hanging with her family, or indulging her addiction to Joss Whedon’s TV shows and movies.
Web site: http://www.celiabreslin.com/
Blog: http://www.celiabreslin.com/blog/
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/celiabreslin
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CeliaBreslinAuthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/CeliaBreslin
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/celiabreslin/
Newsletter:  http://eepurl.com/bxqwRL

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Guest Blog- Vienna Sky by Josh Sinason

As far back as I can remember I’ve always wanted to write a western.  I’m not that old, I was born the same year Pale Rider came out, which, is really the last great western movie.  (Don’t get me started on the bloated plodding zombie of a film that is Unforgiven) but I’ve always loved them.  For most of the 20thcentury it was every kids first exposure to Genre fiction and it’s pretty much the most straightforward storytelling structure you could have.  There are really two types of westerns, a man goes on a journey, and a stranger comes to town.               
But for whatever reason I’ve never been able to really make a western stick and I blame that on science fiction and fantasy.  Since so much of the conventions of that genre, from Ray Bradbury and Robert Heinlein all the way down to Stephen King, t have been a huge influence on science fiction and fantasy and since that’s now the first genre kids my age and younger are exposed to, it’s hard to double back and look at Westerns without feeling like your doubling down on story convention.               
I think that’s why the science fiction western, or weird western as some call it, has been so hit or miss.  I got close with a pretty cool idea for a weird western once, but it fell apart and I took a lot of that into a spy story and it worked better.  But I still would love to get that western in.                 I think there is a lot of a good old western in Vienna Sky.  We have manifest destiny, a boy going on a journey to a strange land, and a good showdown.  He goes through all this while trying not to get shot.  No spoilers, but that last thing might not work out so well.



Vienna SkyJosh Sinason
Genre:  Spy-Fy, YA, Thriller.   
Publisher: Eternal Press
Date of Publication: September 1
eBook ISBN: 9781629293127Print ISBN: 9781629293134
Number of pages: 180
Word Count: 75,000
Cover Artist: Dawné Dominique
Book Description:
When the world pushes you to your limits, sometimes your limits push back.
Archie thought making it out of New Jersey was a long shot. That was before an Eastern European mobster wanted to crack open his head to get the secrets inside, put there by a dead spy he barely knew.
The secrets buried in his head will take Archie across the world and into the arms of Rebecca, the girl recruited as the spy’s last asset. She has her own secrets and her own demons buried in her head. Together they learn what they are capable of in a life and death battle for love and justice.
Available at Eternal Press
Excerpt 1
“I thought we would be square by now, Scott.”  He said as he wrapped an arm around Scottie.  He started slowly patting down his jacket looking for scraps of anything he could take.  “Nothing, man, not a thing.  That’s too bad.”            “Here, I was holding this for him,” I handed him the few dollars I had on me.  “That’s all, honest.”  The second year senior grabbed the crumbled wad and looked me over. “Alright, this is start.”  He butted Scottie in the shoulder, nearly knocking him over.  “I’ll see you later.”  We heard the click of a lighter as he disappeared around the corner, not even bothering to bypass the dogs.            “I’ll get you the money, Archie,” Scottie said as he straightened himself up and we ducked around the corner.  “We’ll get burgers sometime soon, my treat.”            “Yeah,” I put my hands in my then empty pockets.  “So what’s with that man?  You owe some goon money?”            “It’s complicated. I have it under control, Archie.  I just need some extra time. You really saved my ass, man. Thanks.”            We went back inside and snuck in the free lunch line.  I saw that grey lump of macaroni and did my best not to think about those buttery grilled unions and that patty covered in real melted cheese.   The smell of grill seasoning was in my brain and I didn’t want to let it go because what was in front of me was the same thing I’d had all week, leftover from the year before probably.            I told Scottie everything was fine but I was still pretty annoyed.  What was he doing worrying about money anyway?  He’s all set. In two years he’ll be living in the city and Panzer and everything about this place will be nothing but a memory, including me.* * * *            I skipped the bus home.  I wanted to clear my head. I was tired of the bus, that parking with the rust piles, and that metallic smell filling the air.  I was practically choking on it so I did the only thing that made any sense to me at that moment.  I ran.            I ran flat out until cold air filled my lungs and my throat grew dry.  It felt like I swallowed gravel. I could see the other kids at the burger stand enjoying their burgers and I could smell the butter on the grill, but I just kept on running.            I didn’t stop until I hit right around Seventy-fifth Street with those half abandoned office buildings.  One of them was barely finished; it hung open at the time with the crumbling concrete showing through the fading paint job.  I took one look at it, a building I walked by a hundred times in my life, and nearly collapsed to the ground.  The pain in my head was skull-splitting.  I could feel veins straining as the world spun out around me. “C’mon,” I said as I looked for the nearest place to sit down.  “Don’t be that guy.  Don’t be the kid who passes out in the middle of the street.   No. No, Archie.”  I dug my fingers into a metal pole.  “Don’t be that guy.”            And then it passed, like a tide clearing out a layer of sand on the beach, my head was suddenly clear.   I pried my hand away from the pole and moved forward on shaking legs, but I just couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that something was there, something big.  It whispered in the back of my skull and echoed even after I’d made my way down the block and back to our little tenement.  “It’s not a tumor. I’m fairly sure it’s not a tumor,” I said as I rounded the corner to my neighborhood.  “I’m like eighty-five percent sure it’s not a tumor. Seventy percent.”             My head was still spinning as I stumbled back home.  I couldn’t even tell which building was mine at first.  I was guided by the smell of rust and looked for the old trucks with collected debris and scrap metal hanging out the back that belonged to our super.  It wasn’t until I saw those, and smelled the collecting water in his tire pile on the side of the building, that I knew I was home.  Just like every other building, ours was a pile of bricks built on top of a puddle of mud with a fire escape barely holding on at the side.  Sometimes I thought about climbing that fire escape, just once.  I looked up at my window without the bars on it and I knew I could do it if it wasn’t for that final jump, which was just a little too high.   I stepped on broken glass on my way up to the stoop.  The pain cleared by the time I hit the door but my head still felt fuzzy.  It was like a radio on static in my brain.  There were flashes of that Seventy-fifth street building, with its wild thorn bushes surrounding a paved path with weeds stick through and a roof that remained unpainted.  They’re flashes of me and words like “asset” and “rendezvous”, but they were only coming through the fog every once in a while as I plodded up each creaking and warped stair to our doorway. 


About the Author:
Josh Sinason is a freelance writer working in the Northern Illinois area. His work has appeared as part of Chicago DIY Film Magazine.  His past work includes all ages short story romances, A Linger in the Echo and Monaco Dawn. 
https://twitter.com/JRSinason/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8094737.Josh_Sinason


September 21 SpotlightZenny's Awesome Book Reviewshttps://zennysawesomebookreviews.wordpress.com/
September 22 SpotlightAround the World in Books http://www.aroundtheworldinbooks.ca/
September 23 Spotlight and reviewThe Cubicle Escapee www.TheCubicleEscapee.com
September 24 Spotlight3 Partners in Shopping Nana, Mommy, and Sissy, Too!http://3partnersinshopping.blogspot.com/
September 25 InterviewShut Up and Read http://shutupandreadgroup.blogspot.com/
September 28 SpotlightTeatime and Bookshttps://ladyofbooks76.wordpress.com/
September 29 InterviewRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com
September 29 SpotlightA Bookaholic’s Fix: Feeding the Addictionhttp://Bookaholicfix.wordpress.com
September 30 SpotlightLisa’s World of Bookswww.lisasworldofbooks.net
September 30 Spotlight and reviewRising Indies United https://www.RisingIndiesunited.com
October 1 Guest blogThe Creatively Green Write at Home Momwww.creativelygreen.blogspot.com
October 1 Spotlight and reviewIlluminite Caliginosushttp://darkwriter67.wordpress.com
October 2 SpotlightLiterary Musingswww.literarymusing.weebly.com
October 2 SpotlightDeal Sharing Auntwww.dealsharingaunt.blogspot.com
October 5 Guest BlogFang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
October 5 SpotlightCBY Book Clubhttp://cbybookclub.blogspot.co.uk

Interview with the Authors of Dark Secrets A Paranormal Noir Anthology

Please tell us about your latest release.
Suzanne Johnson: DARK SECRETS: A PARANORMAL NOIR ANTHOLOGY brings six authors of paranormal fiction together with six all-new novellas. Our only prompt was to interpret “paranormal noir” in our own way, so all six books—by Rachel Caine, Cynthia Eden, Megan Hart, Jeffe Kennedy, Mina Khan and myself—are very, very different, which makes it fun. We have ghosts, the devil, vampires, faeries, djinn and fairy tale reimaginings. All dark, all different. Oh, and a little romance, of course.
Do you have a special formula for creating characters' names? Do you try to match a name with a certain meaning to attributes of the character or do you search for names popular in certain time periods or regions?
Rachel Caine: I go about it differently for different books, but I do try to pull from popular and appropriate names for the time periods. I don't usually go after attributes ... sometimes I think it's fun to play against that, though, as with Valentine in the story for DARK SECRETS. (He's not exactly hearts and flowers, even if he is in love ...)
Was one of your characters more challenging to write than another?
Rachel Caine: I found Tilde (in DARK SECRETS) a little mysterious, but that's a good thing—she's mysterious partly because she can't tell Valentine everything she knows, and frustrated because she's helpless to be by his side. She was challenging in that I wanted her to have a creepy edge to her, but it's her death that was creepy ... not Tilde herself.
Jeffe Kennedy: In Heart’s Blood (part of DARK SECRETS), Nix was a challenge to write because she needed to be broken and cowed, wounded by what happened to her, but also strong enough to overcome. I didn’t want her weak and whiney, so we all lost patience with her. She’s destined to be a queen and needed that kind of spine. It was a delicate line to walk!Suzanne Johnson: In my DARK SECRETS story, The Consort, Liandra was hardest to write because she is innocent and maybe even naive—yet also smart and has an innate courage she’d never before had tested. So it was challenging to show her innocence without losing her intelligence and courage.
Do you have a formula for developing characters? Like do you create a character sketch or list of attributes before you start writing or do you just let the character develop as you write?
Rachel Caine: I really enjoy just letting the characters speak to me. I start with a name and a bit of background, and a situation, and let it go from there. I'm often surprised by the twists and turns they take! It's part of the reason I love doing shorter fiction; I generally know quite a bit more about my novel characters before I begin. This is more of a journey of discovery.
Suzanne Johnson: I do some basic character work before I start writing. I know enough of their backgrounds to know what makes them tick, and I know each one’s emotional flaw, what he thinks he needs versus what he reallyneeds. That way, I make sure the characters complement each other or, if it’s a romance, complete each other.
What is your favorite scene from the book? Could you share a little bit of it, without spoilers of course?
Suzanne Johnson: My favorite scenes from THE CONSORT are the ones set in Faerie, when Liandra goes to the Royal Tower to visit Queen Sabine and when she and Faulkner go to the Winter Palace to visit Prince Christof. I’m a zealot for worldbuilding, and it was fun to start developing this world. Because in my universe, the fae are nuts!
What is the most interesting thing you have physically done for book related research purposes?
Megan Hart: I once tossed my kids out the front window of my Suburban to make sure it could be done in the amount of time I was having my heroine do it. There was someone there to catch them. ;)
Rachel Caine: Well, I attended an autopsy ... that's certain interesting!
Jeffe Kennedy: I got to have a private, off-season backstage tour of the Santa Fe Opera House when I was writing MASTER OF THE OPERA, which is my erotic, contemporary retelling of The Phantom of the Opera, set at the Santa Fe Opera House. That was super cool!
Can you tell readers a little bit about the world building in the book/series? How does this world differ from our normal world?
Suzanne Johnson: THE CONSORT is set in the “multiverse” of my Sentinels of New Orleans series, although the story itself isn’t tied to the series and you don’t need any knowledge of the series to read the story. So the “normal” part of the world is modern New Orleans, but there are also the vast otherworlds called The Beyond, and the Realm of Faerie is part of that. In the novel series, we don’t visit Faerie until book five, which comes out in 2016, so THE CONSORT gave me a chance to take a couple of visits into that realm, which is very eclectic, to say the least (think alpine village with skyscrapers). Faerie is on the verge of civil war, and I was able to bring that into the novella.
With the book being part of a series, are there any character or story arcs, that readers jumping in somewhere other than the first book, need to be aware of? Can these books be read as stand alones?
Suzanne Johnson: All of the novellas can be read as standalones even though a couple are set in the worlds belonging to series.
Do you have any weird writing quirks or rituals?
Rachel Caine: I need to have music to set the mood, and the mood is different for each project, so I have a LOT of playlists! I spend two or three days before a major project assembling a good set of tunes that helps me capture the story. 
Jeffe Kennedy: I don’t know if it counts as a weird quirk, but I do most of my writing walking at my treadmill desk. I walk 6-8 miles a day while writing and love it!
Other than writing, what are some of your interests, hobbies or passions in life?
Mina Khan: Cooking (followed by eating), and Renaissance dancing!
Suzanne Johnson: I do mixed-media art and art journaling. I’d love to illustrate one of my books!
What was the last amazing book you read?
Mina Khan: THORN by Intisar Khanani; this is a thought-provoking retelling of the fairy tale, “The Goose Girl,” which makes you think about things like social order, justice, choices and more. Both the heroine and the hero grow throughout the story. I’m adding this to my Keeper Shelf.
Megan Hart: BIRD BOX by Josh Malerman was thrilling, scary and so much fun.
Rachel Caine:  I think it may be a three-way tie: Lilah Bowen’s WAKE OF VULTURES, Claudia Gray’s LOST STARS, and Sabaa Tahir’s EMBER IN THE ASHES!
Where is your favorite place to read? Do you have a cozy corner or special reading spot?
Megan Hart: The beach!




Dark Secrets:A Paranormal Noir AnthologyRachel Caine, Cynthia Eden,Megan Hart, Suzanne Johnson, Jeffe Kennedy, Mina Khan
Genre: Paranormal Noir,Romance, Fantasy, Urban Fantasy
Date of Publication:  September 29, 2015
ISBN: 978-1-942840-05-3ASIN: B0147D7JTU
Number of pages: Approx. 350Word Count: Approx. 150,000
Cover Artist: Robin Ludwig Design
Book Description:
Six award-winning authors bring you this spellbinding collection of stories about dark desires, mysterious worlds, and danger that lurks in the shadows of the night. Where nothing is black and white; where things might not be as they seem; where magic and mayhem rule.
MARION, MISSING by Rachel Caine
Valentine is a detective with two major problems: he's been offered a kidnapping case that will probably get him killed, and his partner won't let him turn it down. He owes her that much … since his partner's a ghost, and he's the one who killed her. A dark, haunting noir mystery of love, hate and loss.
FEMME FATALE by Cynthia Eden
PI Mick Swayne has seen it all—his clients have included liars, thieves, and even killers. He thinks he can handle anything and anyone. Then she walks into his office. Savannah Moreau is beautiful, seductive, and…a vampire? The gorgeous vamp hires Mick to help her track down a killer who is hunting in Chicago, but as Mick slips deeper into Savannah’s paranormal world, he wonders if he can really trust his new client…
DANCE WITH THE DEVIL by Megan Hart
When the devil starts the music, you'd better get ready to dance.
Kathleen Murphy has sold her soul to the devil. Fame, fortune, success...everything she's ever dreamed of is hers, and all she has to do is the devil's bidding. When love comes knocking, the last thing in the world she wants to do is involve Jake in her twisted world, but the devil's started up the jukebox and Kathleen has no choice but to learn the steps.
THE CONSORT by Suzanne Johnson
Faulkner Hearne, the captain of the ruthless Fae Hunters, finds his duty at odds with his heart when he’s ordered to capture the consort of Faerie’s cruel Prince of Summer when she flees across the veil into modern New Orleans. Can Faulk turn Liandra over to a certain death at the hands of the prince, or will he risk a war with Faerie in order to save her? An all-new novella set in the Sentinels of New Orleans multiverse.
HEART’S BLOOD by Jeffe Kennedy, a Twelve Kingdoms novella
A dark fairytale retelling of a princess robbed of rank, husband and even her name.Nix is nothing. The Princess Natilde—her former waiting woman—attacked her on the journey to wed Prince Cavan, stripping her of everything and taking her place. With no serving skills, Nix becomes a goose girl. Perhaps if Nix keeps her promise never to reveal who she really is, Natilde won’t carry out her vile threats. Prince Cavan entered his arranged marriage determined to have a congenial, if not loving relationship with his future queen—for the sake of both their kingdoms. But, his wife repels him more each day and he finds himself absurdly drawn to the lovely Nix....With broken vows, anguish and dark secrets between them, Cavan and Nix struggle to find the magic to restore what’s gone terribly wrong... if it ever can be.
THE DJINN IN THE MIRROR by Mina Khan, a Djinn World novella
A paranormal Cinderella story with a young witch as the heroine and a wicked, sexy djinn instead of a fairy godmother....Dahlia, the step-daughter of a power hungry wizard, promises to free a djinn trapped in a mirror if he rescues her from impending death. But Ashmael the djinn has his own agenda: to trick & seduce his way to freedom. The only problem is he ends up falling for Dahlia. Can he win his freedom and save the girl?



About the Authors:
Rachel Caine is the New York Times, USA Today, and #1 internationally bestselling author of more than 45 novels that span the categories of horror, suspense, urban fantasy, science fiction, media tie-in, historical, and young adult. She’s also the author of more than 100 short stories.
http://www.rachelcaine.com
Twitter: @rachelcaine
Facebook: www.facebook.com/rachelcainefanpage

Award-winning author Cynthia Eden writes dark tales of paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She is a New York Times, USA Today, Digital Book World, and IndieReader best-seller. Cynthia is also a three-time finalist for the prestigious RITA® award. Since she began writing full-time in 2005, Cynthia has written over fifty novels and novellas.
http://www.cynthiaeden.com
Twitter: @cynthiaeden
Facebook: www.facebook.com/cynthiaedenfanpage

Megan Hart is a USA Today, Publisher’s Weekly and New York Times bestselling author who writes in many genres including mainstream fiction, erotic fiction, science fiction, romance, fantasy and horror.
http://www.meganhart.com
Twitter: @megan_hart
Facebook: www.facebook.com/megan.hart

Suzanne Johnson is the author of the award-winning Sentinels of New Orleans urban fantasy series. Writing as Susannah Sandlin, she is author of the award-winning Penton Legacy paranormal romance series as well as The Collectors romantic suspense series, including Lovely, Dark, and Deep, winner of the 2015 Holt Medallion and the 2015 Booksellers Best Award winner for romantic suspense. Her new Wildlife Wardens romantic suspense series begins in 2016 with Wild Man’s Bluff.
http://www.suzannejohnsonauthor.com
Twitter: @suzanne_johnson
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorSuzanneJohnson

Jeffe Kennedy is an award-winning author whose works include non-fiction, poetry, short fiction, and novels. Her most recent works include a number of fiction series: the fantasy romance novels of A Covenant of Thorns; the contemporary BDSM novellas of the Facets of Passion, an erotic  contemporary serial novel, Master of the Opera, the fantasy series The Twelve Kingdoms, and the erotic romance trilogy, Falling Under. The first of the Twelve Kingdoms books, The Mark of the Tala, has been nominated for the RT Book of the Year while the sequel, The Tears of the Rose, has been nominated for best fantasy romance of the year. Jeffe lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with two Maine coon cats, plentiful free-range lizards and a very handsome Doctor of Oriental Medicine.
http://www.jeffekennedy.com
Twitter: @jeffekennedy
Facebook: www.facebook.com/Author.Jeffe.Kennedy

Award-winning author Mina Khan grew up in Bangladesh on stories of djinns, ghosts and monsters. These childhood fancies now color her fiction. She daydreams of hunky paranormal heroes, magic, mayhem and mischief and writes them down as stories. She is the author of the Djinn World Chronicles, including The Djinn’s Dilemma and A Tale of Two Djinns, as well as Wildfire, a paranormal mystery with cowboys and dragons.
http://minakhan.blogspot.com/
Twitter: @SpiceBites
Facebook: www.facebook.com/Mina.Khan.Author

Guest Blog and Giveaway with Gretchen SB

The Maddening
Greetings,
I would like to take this chance to tell you about a phenomenon that happens to the Warrior species in the Nigh World Series known as the Maddening.
"When the Flash hit, a Warrior only had three days to bed his mate. If he didn’t, the Warrior in question would be driven insane by the overwhelming lust that came over him during that three day period, or as it was usually referred to, the Maddening.
During the Maddening, the Warrior would experience physical pain when away from his mate. He would lose his senses should she be injured or touched by any other male. 
Warriors tended to stay away from those in the Maddening or in the first stage of mating while all the Maddening symptoms lowered to the tolerable level mated Warriors dealt with. The first stage of mating could last anywhere from three months to a year, depending on the Warrior. The more the Warrior bedded his mate in that first stage, the easier it would be for him to handle the symptoms."
So as you can see, Warriors are given three days from the first time they touch their mate to sleep with her or he is driven insane with lust and usually must be put down. While young Warriors imagine what their mate might be like, by the time they are older they begin to dread that they might feel the Flash. As they age they become more out of touch with society. Making it harder for them to relate to their mate. It has causes a bit of a superstition that they avoid those in Maddening to prevent from catching it.
From an author perspective this is a fun and frustrating set of rules to write. It means I have to make the romance (hopefully) pan out in three book days. Not an easy task. At the same time, maybe I'm just crazy, I like the panic and whirlwind comedic reactions the Warrior and other characters have.
Happy Reading,
Gretchen

Viking SensitivityNight World SeriesBook 2Gretchen S. B.
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: Aug 21st, 2015
ISBN: 1515251837ASIN:
Number of pages: 235Word Count: 84,500
Cover Artist: Bookin' It Designs
Book Description:
Viking was not sure what to do with himself with Gwen in Montana. That is until his path crosses with Mia's. She is a beautiful sensitive who is being haunted by a strange being Viking has never heard of.
Mia Jones might not have an exciting life as the owner of an independent book store, but she is okay with that. Then she meets Viking and it is as if her life goes tumbling down a rabbit hole.
Mia and Viking must pull together to fight off the being that is haunting her. As Mia adjust to the Night World it appears this being might not be working along.

Excerpt
Viking's heart beat four times its natural pace. At the same time his breathing stopped. He didn't have it in him to move. The shock was overwhelming. He hadn't even realized Poet came out from behind the registers until the other man grabbed his shoulder. "Viking, Viking?"It was then he finally turned his head from where Mia had been moments before. Looking at his third in command he could see the shock on the other man's face. "Though you are strange. And your abilities are far beyond that of a Warrior. I would bet money you just felt the Flash."Viking didn't respond. He didn't really need to. Poet had been around Viking long enough to know his expressions. He couldn't hide it. And he wasn't sure how to cover it up. He just felt the Flash. The warning bell that announced to a Warrior he just met his mate. Not just met his mate but touched her, flesh to flesh. Viking had been around centuries and now here she was. Some woman he just happened to come across. He had been interested in her. Knowing there was something special about her. Could that have been it? Could he have known she was his mate without touching her? He blinked several times before turning towards the door again. That couldn't have been it, could it?He turned towards Poet. The other man blanked his face."Yes, I did." Just saying it out loud seemed overwhelming. He didn't know what to do. Where to go. He didn't know how to find that woman. Before he realized what he was doing Viking was out the shop door and looking down the street. He scanned both ways and jogged to the end of either block. He had no idea how long he stood there staring but clearly it was long enough for her to get her car and leave. Cursing himself repeatedly he walked back into the store. Several of the employees gave him funny looks. He ignored them and headed straight out the back doors. There was only one person he could think of to talk to. Once he exited the back door of the shop. Into the staff only area he didn't stop his momentum, he ran up the stairs. Taking them several at a time. He didn't slow until he burst out the door on the top floor. He yanked out his keys in a jerky motion and unlocked Gwen's apartment. Slamming the door behind him he went and sat down in her favorite oversized chair. He tried to calm his pulse and his breathing. He needed to talk to Gwen. He had never tried to reach her from so far away before. He wasn't entirely sure if it would work. She was supposed to be on her honeymoon, as it were, but he knew she would understand why he would call. "Little One! Little One can you hear me?" He was yelling it so loud in his head the only thing louder was his racing heartbeat.He concentrated on his breathing as he waited. If he could calm his body down, maybe he would have a better chance of reaching her. "Viking? Viking is that you? What's wrong? What's happened? Is everyone okay?" The worry and fear in her tone was clear as a bell. It overrode the sleepiness he heard.Viking took another deep breath before answering. "Everyone's fine. Everything is fine. I just. I just needed to talk to you. I needed to hear your voice." "What's happened? Viking you tell me right now or I'm walking out the bedroom door to find August and making him call over there to tell me what's wrong." Viking knew that was an empty threat. Gwen would not stoop to chasing down her husband, who could be doing important political business just so he would answer her question. He blew a few random strands of hair from his face. Gwen could always tell when something was wrong. She'd gotten good at reading every single one of his micro-expressions in the two decades they'd been together."I felt the Flash."He didn't even get out an entire thought before she answered."You what?! Who is she? I'm coming home right now. I will be on the next flight to Seattle."This is why Viking loved Gwen so much. She had such a big heart. She would drop everything if she felt someone needed her. "That is not necessary Little One. She's someone I met paying off the debt to Lucia. There is no need for you to come home before your proper honeymoon has begun just to sit with me." If he was honest with himself there was nothing Viking wanted more than having the woman he had grown to think of as his little sister by his side through this trying ordeal."Don’t be ridiculous. I'll be there in the morning. One of you guys are to pick me up from the airport. I'll text you the flight information as soon as I have it."With that last statement he almost physically felt her disconnect from him. And he knew at that point the argument was over. He couldn't convince her not to come. Not that he really wanted to. He would be grateful to see her. He and all the other Warriors missed her terribly. She meant a lot to a lot of people. He had been eternally grateful when Cesar agreed to move part of the Warrior government to Washington State so she could be near the people she loved.Closing his eyes to the room around him, Viking concentrated on his breathing. The next few days were going to be difficult. He had to somehow woo a woman he didn't even know. It had been longer than he cared to admit since he had been up for such a challenge. He was going to take the opportunity while his head was still relatively clear to meditate and relax his body. Hopefully, ward off some of the initial effects of the Maddening.When the Flash hit, a Warrior only had three days to bed his mate. If he didn’t, the Warrior in question would be driven insane by the overwhelming lust that came over him during that three day period, or as it was usually referred to, the Maddening. During the Maddening, the Warrior would experience physical pain when away from his mate. He would lose his senses should she be injured or touched by any other male. Warriors tended to stay away from those in the Maddening or in the first stage of mating while all the Maddening symptoms lowered to the tolerable level mated Warriors dealt with. The first stage of mating could last anywhere from three months to a year, depending on the Warrior. The more the Warrior bedded his mate in that first stage, the easier it would be for him to handle the symptoms. Viking wasn't sure how to get a near stranger to sleep with him once, let alone multiple times over the coming months.

About the Author: 
Gretchen is a Seattleite that loves her home. She has a day job as a Program Coordinator a local university. She is a struggling Indie Author, struggling as in she is trying to make her living writing books. She loves to read,  write and create characters. As well as knit and binge watch Netflix. She is also on a sporadic book blog and internet radio show with some of her college friends. She currently lives with her husband and their mischievous Rotti mix, who always seems to find something new she shouldn't be chewing on.
http://www.gretchensb.com/
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7398184.Gretchen_S_B_
http://www.amazon.com/Gretchen-S.-B./e/B00GDGEEI4
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Gretchen-S-B/540293959350712
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The Phoenix Year by David Blond

The Phoenix YearDavid Blond
Genre: thriller
Publisher: Wattle Publishing
Date of Publication: 2014
Number of pages: 332Word Count: approx. 125,000
Book Description:
“… from out of the fire, would rise a new order, like the legend of the phoenix.There would emerge a new world, a new super economy…”
So starts a sequence of events destined to rock world economies to their very core. On the 50th anniversary of their induction into the Society of the Phoenix, a group of billionaires is about to change the world dramatically, with devastating effect.
Overseen by the reclusive Heinrich Von Kleise, the Society has hatched an audacious plan to subvert world economies, by using and abusing some of the world’s wealthiest businessmen and their families; in some cases, holding them literally to ransom, or worse.
Michael Ross, an economic advisor to the US President, Ben Masters, a disgraced property tycoon, Natalya Avramowitz, a Russian economist and spy, and “Kim” a CIA Agent, find themselves at the center of this plot, involving inside trading, sex slavery, and political corruption.
As the world careens towards financial Armageddon, can Michael, Natalya and Kim prevent global disintegration, or are the world’s financial institutions fated to implode?
The Phoenix Year by David L. Blond is a gripping novel, encompassing many of the financial crises that have hit the headlines in the past decade. The author has skillfully woven these together to create an action-packed conspiracy thriller.

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About the Author:
Dr. David L. Blond works as a private economic consultant specializing in quantitative analysis of economic data. He began his career working for the United Nations in Geneva, Switzerland. During the period of 1978 – 1985, he was a Senior Economist in the Office of the Secretary of Defense in Washington, and after leaving that position worked for various major global economic forecasting and consulting firms in senior positions. He lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Twitter: @davidblond2000
Publisher Twitter: @wattlepub
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/David-L-Blond/335415883266804
Wattle Publishing Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WattlePublishing?sk=app_190322544333196
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LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/wattle-publishing-ltd

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