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Guest Blog: Icy Passage An Antarctica Story by Ann Gimpel

Science Fiction in Antarctica
If there’s any place on planet Earth where they do research, it’s Antarctica. The only people who live there, either year round or seasonally, are scientists and their backup personnel. I was fortunate enough to visit two research bases while I was there and to meet a field researcher who was counting penguin nesting grounds.
Most fiction set in Antarctica is either a thriller (think James Rollins) or science fiction (think Kim Stanley Robinson).  Here’s part of the book description for his Antarctica:
A stark and inhospitable place, its landscape poses a challenge to survival; yet its strange, silent beauty has long fascinated scientists and adventurers. Now Antarctica faces an uncertain future. The international treaty that protects the continent is about to dissolve, clearing the way for Antarctica's resources and eerie beauty to be plundered. As politicians and corporations move to determine its fate from half a world away, radical environmentalists carry out a covert campaign of sabotage to reclaim the land. The winner of this critical battle will determine the future for this last great wilderness....
Interestingly, while researching titles for Icy Passage, I came across one book with a gal in a bikini on the cover. That one made me laugh. No sun tops in Antarctica, not on either of my trips.
Mystery lends itself to storytelling, and Antarctica is one mysterious place. The single celled organisms, archaea, that play a starring role in Icy Passage, are real, as is everything I said about them in the book. One of the hallmarks of science fiction is the science parts have to be spot on. When I submitted the book to a well-known science fiction webzine for review, I held my breath because Icy Passage has paranormal elements in it too. The review turned out fine. More than fine, actually!
When some think about scifi, they conjure up images of spaceships and space stations á la Star Trek and Star Wars. Of the two, at least Star Trek was scifi. Star Wars is actually a mixed genre with magic liberally laced into the plot lines.
Icy Passage isn’t about space travel. It’s about single-celled organisms running amok. My hero is a microbiologist, and my heroine is a doctor, so there’s a lot of room for them to bat scientific theories back and forth, when they aren’t scrabbling to stay alive. There truly is a form of archaea that’s unique to the Polar Regions, and there’s also evidence they slow radioactive decay from the earth’s core.
Here’s a snippet from the book:
…Kayna swallowed uncertainty, not sure what to say. “Your life sounds so barren.” A lot like mine, actually. “Are you married?”“Why, Doctor.” He cocked his head to one side, but didn’t stop running his thumb along her jawline. “What a leading question.”“Are you going to answer it?” Her throat was dry, and she’d never been more aware of a man’s presence. He was alive, electric. If she closed the few inches between their faces, she could taste his lips. He wouldn’t rebuff her. She sensed his interest, but the wife question was important. In her mind’s eye, her raven spread its wings, flew a few feet, and settled again. Approval gleamed from his eyes. Kayna did a double take. Her spirit guide had never showed his beak in all the years she was with Derek, but he was certainly front and center tonight.It’s almost as if he’s giving Brynn his seal of approval…Oh for the love of Pete. I’m extrapolating all over the fucking place.Brynn’s voice took on a husky note. “I had a girlfriend, another M.D. We were together for years. She wanted more than I could give. Eventually, she left me.” He glanced down and Kayna sensed his internal conflict, raw and palpable, before he met her gaze again. “I don’t blame her. I wasn’t very…present.”“Maybe, she’d still be open to—”Brynn shook his head. “Too much bad water under the bridge. She told me not to find her after she left. I ignored that wish, exactly like I’d ignored most of her other ones.” A muscle twitched beneath one of his eyes, betraying tension. “The row we had once I tracked her down wasn’t pretty. Not too long after that, I landed a job with a British bioresearch firm and left for South Georgia Island.”“We have at least a few things in common,” she murmured.“Like what?” He inscribed small circles on her cheek before moving his hand down her neck.“I had a boyfriend—another doc, like your partner—but he dumped me once I told him I was going to McMurdo for a year.”Brynn looked at her, his eyes brimming with emotions he probably didn’t let out to play often. When he angled his head and closed his mouth over hers, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drew him close. Hard planes of muscle met her fingertips, and she reveled in how good he felt. His crisp masculine scent, sandalwood and amber, eddied about her. When he ran his tongue along the seam in her lips, she opened her mouth and welcomed him. He tasted sweet like the scotch, and his lips became harder and more demanding as she let him explore her mouth.Brynn threaded his arms around her and buried a hand in her hair, cradling the back of her head. Her breath quickened, and her nipples hardened where they pressed against his chest. It had been months since she’d had sex. Even before her blowup with Derek, he hadn’t touched her in a long time. Need licked at her, hot and urgent, in a rush of hormones all too aware her biological clock was running out of time. Encouragement glittered in the raven’s eyes, and she felt him urge her on.It would be easy to stretch out on the cushions, slide her tights down, and draw Brynn into her. Too easy. Her body screamed for release, but common sense intruded and she pulled away, panting slightly. “You’re a very attractive man, but this isn’t a good idea.”“Bad call,” her spirit guide spoke up.Holy crap snackers! I’ve had too much to drink. Kayna made a grab for rationality, but the raven stayed put, no longer talking, but with his avian attention glued to her.“I’d try to argue,” Brynn said, his voice thick with need, “except I agree.” He kneaded the back of her neck. It felt heavenly and she leaned into his touch. “Not that I don’t want to make love with you,” his gaze, dark gold now, bored into her, “because I do. Very much. But I want to take this slow. Get to know you.”His words made something warm and fluttery begin in her belly and spread outward. She untangled her arms from his body and got to her feet. “We’ll have time to figure this out.”“Maybe,” he said carefully, and something in his voice—perhaps regret—snared her attention.“Why maybe?”“You’re staying at McMurdo. I plan to go home after a couple weeks there.”With her body buzzing from his touch, and her spirit guide still making his presence—and opinion—known, she murmured, “One step at a time. We’ll see how things unfold.”Brynn looked at her, his hazel gaze unreadable. “It’s been a long day. Both of us should try to get some sleep.”She nodded and made her way out of the bar, lurching with the ship’s motion. Brynn had his secrets, like she had hers. She sensed his inner turmoil with her paranormal antennae. It was unlikely he could see into her with the same level of accuracy, but none of that mattered. Whether they’d even arrive at McMurdo remained to be seen.Hell, he may not be able to live with my secrets even if we make McMurdo.And I might not be able to stomach his.Secrets aside, why did my raven show up?Brynn would be a lot easier to accept if his cultures weren’t part of the deal. With that unsettling thought scattering her lust like ashes, Kayna plodded back to her surgery, let herself in, and made her way to her bed. The liquor she’d drunk made her head spin, and she hoped no one needed her before morning.She’d just shut her eyes when the raven formed behind her closed lids. “What do you want?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. Instead, an image of the Kiao from her earlier trance state formed. As she stared at the mystical Chinese dragon, she recalled that her father had a tattoo just like it inked onto his upper arm.Kayna flopped onto her stomach and supported her head with her hands, no longer sleepy. The same questions that had plagued her earlier came screaming back. Why would her father show up now? What did he have to do with McMurdo, the southern ocean, or Brynn’s accursed samples?…






Icy PassageAn Antarctica StoryAnn Gimpel
Hartwood Publishing Group
96K words
Release Date: 2/5/15
Genre: Science Fiction/Romance with a Splash of Paranormal
Lethal cultures, bizarre illness, and political intrigue create an unlikely backdrop for love in Antarctica, the last true frontier.
Book Description:
Fresh out of residency, Dr. Kayna Quan opts for a tour in Antarctica. Money is short, so she hires on as medical officer aboard a Russian research vessel headed for McMurdo Station. Primed for almost anything, she plays her paranormal ability close to the vest. Being odd man out in a world where most don’t believe in magic makes her wary and feisty.
Brynn McMichaels has been stationed on remote South Georgia Island for two years, and he’s eager for a change. When cultures of the single-celled organism, archaea, overgrow their bins in his lab and begin shifting into another form, he worries he’s losing his mind and talks with scientists at McMurdo, but they have problems of their own—bad ones. After he hears about them, Brynn agrees to help. The weather’s too uncertain to send a plane, so he hitches a ride aboard Kayna’s ship and brings his mutant culture colonies along.
Attraction sparks, hot and powerful, between Brynn and Kayna, but her disclosure about her magic is a tough nut to crack. It doesn’t help that her dead father is stalking her. Lethal cultures, bizarre illness, and McMurdo’s refusal to let them land force Brynn and Kayna into an uneasy alliance. Will their fragile bond be enough to thwart the powers trying to destroy Earth, and them along with it?




About the Author:
Ann Gimpel is a national bestselling author. She’s also a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian bent.  Avocations include mountaineering, skiing, wilderness photography and, of course, writing.  A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. She’s published over 20 books to date, with several more contracted for 2015 and beyond.
A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out her family.
www.anngimpel.com
http://anngimpel.blogspot.com
http://www.amazon.com/author/anngimpel
http://www.facebook.com/anngimpel.author
@AnnGimpel

Giveaway Demon Child by Kylie Chan

Demon ChildCelestial BattleBook TwoKylie Chan
Genre: Science Fiction
Publisher: HarperCollins/Harper Voyager
Date of Publication:  2/24/2015
ISBN: 9780062329080
Number of pages: 544
Book Description:
Australian bestseller Kylie Chan returns with a new, fast-paced adventure of magic, martial arts, and romance.
This trilogy follows the story of John Chen and Emma Donohoe. They have just found out that Emma has Demon blood. The Sidhe - or Shining folk, who defeated the Western Shen a thousand years ago - are prepared to do battle against the Western Shen to retain their dominance.
Emma’s allegiance is torn: to fight for her kind, the Western demons she is descended from, or to stand alongside her beloved Xuan Wu.
Available at HarperCollins

Add it to Your Goodreads Shelf
About the Author:
Kylie Chan is the bestselling author of the Dark Heavens and Journey to Wudang trilogies. She married a Hong Kong national in a traditional Chinese wedding ceremony.
Kylie has studied Kung Fu and Tai Chi and is a senior belt in both forms. She has also made an intensive study of Buddhist and Taoist philosophy and has brought all of these interests together into her storytelling.
She lived in Hong Kong for many years and now lives in Brisbane, Australia.
http://kyliechan.com/
Twitter: @kyliechan
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kylie-Chan/391705800860529
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/760392.Kylie_Chan


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February 24 interview Jill Archerwww.jillarcher.com
February 25 Spotlight3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, & Sissy, Too!  http://3partnersinshopping.blogspot.com
February 26 SpotlightBookwormBridgette's Worldhttp://bookwormbridgette.blogspot.com
February 27 SpotlightBeppe DM Books Blog  http://www.dmgsoft.eu/
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March 3 SpotlightLisa’s World of Bookswww.lisasworldofbooks.net
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March 9 SpotlightRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com
March 10 SpotlightFang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
March 11 SpotlightFantasy Book Lanehttp://www.fantasybooklane.com/
March 12 InterviewAuthor Karen Swartwww.authorkarenswart.blogspot.com
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March 16 Spotlight3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, &, Sissy, Too!   http://3partnersinshopping.blogspot.com
March 17 InterviewThe Creatively Green Write at Home Momwww.creativelygreen.blogspot.com
March 18 SpotlightDiane's Book Bloghttp://dianes-book.blogspot.com/
March 19 SpotlightIlluminite Caliginosushttp://darkwriter67.wordpress.com
March 20 ReviewDeal Sharing Auntwww.dealsharingaunt.blogspot.com
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Cover Reveal Stricken by Marcia Colette

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StrickenMarcia Colette
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Purple Sword Publications
Number of pages: 155Word Count: 60,000
Cover Artist: Traci Markou
Book Description:
Personal tragedy convinces half-werewolf Alexa York to get away to the town of McCormick, Pennsylvania where she's charged with protecting Dr. Aiden Joss, physician to the supernatural community. Not only does she need the money, she needs the distraction. Unfortunately, she gets it in spades when Joss's personal issues and a myriad of dangerously sick patients make her new job nearly impossible.
A mysterious disease is running its way through the New York Order of the Amazons and leaving bodies in its wake. The same warrior who had chosen her clan over Joss has asked for him help. Even though the disease is real, Alexa has reason to believe his ex's sincerity is not.
Given the other numerous problems she has to deal with that are outside of her job description, Dr. Joss might be the biggest threat to his own safety. But, protecting him comes first. That’s difficult to do when his efforts to find an antidote put everyone in his remote clinic in danger, including Alexa.
Excerpt: Chapter One
Present day…I stood on the porch of Dr. Aiden Joss’s luxurious home pissed as hell. Someone was supposed to meet me at the airport in Philadelphia. I ended up having to take a cab because all of the rentals were booked from the only airport about twenty-five miles from the small town of McCormick, Pennsylvania. The taxi driver must have mistaken me for an oil baron with the fare he charged. He ended up having to leave me at the front gate because the intercom was busted. Thankfully, being a human hybrid had its advantages. After tossing my duffle over the ten-foot age, I followed by leaping over. Some security. The downpour turned my black wavy hair into thick, cold tresses snaking down my neck and upper back. Sadly, my duffle bag was just as pitiful as I looked, since it wasn’t waterproof. I exercised more care when picking out my purse and laptop bag. The front door opened. A tall, bulky man who looked like he missed his calling as an NFL linebacker stood against the golden glow of the interior. His face was criminal-hard, though something in his dark eyes said otherwise. He wore a white shirt and jeans with a knee brace around his left knee. He blinked.“Oh, boy.” He hurried to unlock the storm door and let me inside. “You must be Ms. Alexa York.”I struggled getting passed him with my wet duffle and carry-on and drenched clothes clinging to my cold body. “I am. I take it the phones don’t work around here either.”He took my stuff and set it aside. “The power has been flickering all night. They just got the lights back on about three minutes ago. The phone is internet, so when the power goes out, everything goes out.”I unzipped my cold, sodden jacket. “I get it. No phone no phone calls. Which is why I was stuck at the airport.”He sighed. “Again, my apologies, ma’am. With so much going on, I only had a chance to worry about one thing at time.”I glanced at him before answering. So much going on? The house was quiet and not a soul in sight. What could’ve possibly had him too busy to pick me up when he knew I was coming? Heck, I was here to be his replacement while he was on the mend. If he didn’t want me here, forgetting me at the airport or not sending a car to pick me up worked in his favor. He offered his hand to me. “My name’s Sammy. I’m Dr. Joss’s med tech and assistant.”“Med tech?” I looked him up and down. “But I thought you were his—” He chuckled. “I’m really his assistant. I’m only his bodyguard when I have to be. And given the kind of world that lies beyond those gates, I find myself playing the latter more often.”I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry if I sounded a little crotchety, but—”Sammy waved his large hand. “No need to apologies. I’d be a lot more than pissed had I been in your shoes. Speaking of which, let me show you to your room so you can get some dry clothes on.”Snorting, I glanced at the puddle forming around my duffle. “Dry clothes, huh. That would be nice.”“No worries, Ms. York. I’ll find you something.”“It’s Alexa, by the way.” Those close to me called me Lex. We weren’t there yet.“Alexa, then.”My room was upstairs on the second floor along with five other bedrooms. Every piece of furniture was stained pine and sitting against light blue walls. Thankfully, I had my own private bathroom. When I looked out of the bathroom window, I noticed a light coming from the woods somewhere behind the trees. Had it not been for Wesley Dane, a full-blooded werewolf friend of my family, I wouldn’t be here to play bodyguard for one of his closest friends. It wasn’t the thousand dollars a day, tax-free money for my services that brought me here. I needed the distraction more than everything. “So how much do you know about me?” After snuggling into a thick, warm robe, I dried off my hair with a towel and opened the bathroom door. Sammy was still there, though keeping his distance by waiting in the hall. I thought it was weird, but whatever, seeing as this was more his house than mine. “Enough, he replied. “You’re half-werewolf, which is extremely rare. You’re also married, which means either your husband, who’s a full-blood, or Dane is going to tear Dr. Joss apart if anything bad happens to you. Although, that sort of defeats the purpose of you being the doctor’s bodyguard.” He half-smiled.“Are you expecting me to be torn apart?”“No,” he chuckled. “But I expect you’ll be put through the ringer.” He pointed at the fresh clothes on my bed. “The best I could come up with are some sweats, an oversized tee-shirt, and some thick socks we typically give the patients. I promise I’ll have your clothes cleaned and dried by the time you wake up tomorrow. That is, I hope you can stand the scent. I bought some unscented detergent when I found out you were coming, but I didn’t have a chance to wash those particular clothes in them.”My lips pursed together in a grin to keep from laughing. “Relax. My senses might be heightened senses, but not that much. I actually like the smell of laundry detergent. Flowers are preferable to anything else.”“So those will be okay?”I nodded. “They’re fine. And thank you. For the robe and clothes and stuff.”“Not a problem.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I don’t know if you’re hungry or anything, but I have some chili on the stove, too. Your appetite is…?”“Human. It’s one of the things I actually like about being half-werewolf.” Compared to others. I caught myself before saying anymore. Over the last three weeks, I wished I was more human than some freak living in the middle of that world and the werewolf one. Perhaps things might have turned out better between my husband and me.I forced a smile to my face. “So what kind of supernatural is Dr. Joss?”Sammy sighed. “I’m not at liberty to say.”“Really? You know what I am, so why can’t I know about him?”“You didn’t ask Dane?”My smile faded and I crossed my arms. “I did, but he sealed his lips on that one, too. Said I’d find out on my own.” The conversation took a nosedive after that. I had to remind him that both Matt and my father would break him in half if he sent me to a maniac’s house. Of course, I knew Dane well enough to know he’d never do that either.Chuckling, Sammy turned and started down the hall. “I can’t say my chili is award winning, but it did get an honorable mention at the state fair.”So that was how he wanted to play it. Good.Following after him while he spoke about the rules of the house and how I needed to be ready in case emergencies happened in the middle of the night, I focused on my sense of smell. The only thing that stung my nose was the scent of alcohol. Not the rubbing kind either. Sammy prepared me a small bowl of chili with enough spices to burn a whole your sinuses. I hardly touched it. While my appetite might have been human, my tastes was more sensitive than normal when it came to spicy stuff. Thank goodness there were plenty of delicious corn muffins to go around.My duties were simple. I wasn’t expected to participate in any life-saving measures, but rather watch Dr. Joss’s back, since most of his clients were supernaturals. The rest were those who couldn’t risk a report being filed with the police department. It also meant that I might have to fly out in the middle of the night or take a drive with him, since he still believed in house calls. Sammy would hold down the house and make arrangements, schedules, and contacts as they were needed. The only thing Sammy asked I do that wasn’t on the list was keep an open mind. I had no idea what that meant……until we heard a thump from down the hall. Sammy hobbled in front of me, hurrying faster than I would’ve thought for a guy who had recently twisted his knee. When he entered through the French doors, he muttered a curse before limping into the room.“A little help, please?” A female shouted. A man lay on the floor with a whiskey bottle a few inches away from his fingers and alcohol leaking into the carpet. The disheveled guy looked like he had missed a few days of shaving and couldn’t afford a comb. His clothes stank of booze and enough mustiness to imply he had misses a couple of showers, too. He had black, medium-length hair that looked greasy to the touch and was probably just as neglected as the rest of him. Next to him was a woman with dark blond tresses barely held together with a messy ponytail and plump lips that didn’t need any lipstick to stand out. There was something in those dark eyes that pleaded for help, but at the same time they said she was tired. She wore a pair of white pants with matching shoes and a black sweater. I bet anything she was a nurse. Sadly, the man on the floor didn’t need any medical care.“Ms. York,” Sammy said, leaning to pick up the empty bottle. “This is Macy Innick, our nurse, and the impeccable Dr. Aiden Joss.”Macy huffed at the two of us. “A little help here, please?”I pointed, unable to take my gaze off my new employer. “This is the genius who supernaturals trust with their patient confidentiality?” Macy managed to get him into a sitting position before glaring bullets into me. “While he might not be perfect, he’s still brilliant and your employer.”I held up my hands and stepped back. If she wanted to defend him, then more power to her. If he were my boss, he had better be paying me in spades, gold doubloons, and diamonds to clean up after his drunken foolishness. That wasn’t a part of the job description.Sammy managed to loop a hand under Joss’s arm. “Believe it or not, his medical expertise is one area where he’s quite sober, even if the rest of him isn’t.”“And if he should have an emergency tonight, am I supposed to drive him there in that smashed state?”He paused. “I hate to say it, but yeah.”A grin splayed my face. “You’re funny.” I turned and walked back down the hall, knowing full-well that he was serious. When I reached the kitchen, I grabbed an extra muffin and my cup of warm cocoa, and headed upstairs to my room. No way was I driving that man to his next medical-malpractice suit…assuming he even made it that far.

About the Author:
Marcia Colette didn’t discover her love for reading until her late teens when she started reading John Saul and progressed to works by Bentley Little, Stephen King and Laurell K. Hamilton. Her reading tastes convinced her to write paranormals where curses cause people to shift into spiders, psychotic and telekinetic mothers are locked away in attics, and murderous doppelgangers are on a rampage. Let's not forget about the hunky werecheetah coalitions who live throughout North Carolina. As long as she can make it believable, that's all that matters.
Born and raised in upstate New York, Marcia now lives in North Carolina with her mom and beautiful daughter. They’re not raising zombies in the backyard. There aren’t any hellhounds living in the den, only a rabbit and a cockatiel. So where she gets her ideas is as much a mystery to her as anyone else.
The best place to find her--when she's not stirring up trouble--is on her blog where she loves connecting with readers.
www.marciacolette.com
http://marciacolette.wordpress.com/
http://twitter.com/MarciaColette
https://www.facebook.com/marciacolette
http://www.goodreads.com/marcia_colette

Guest Blog and Giveaway with C. Edward Baldwin

I’m a big music lover. And oftentimes, some song is playing in my head while I’m writing. While creating my latest novel, Rememberers, several songs jockeyed for position. 
I’ve listed the twenty most insistent ones below. 
These tunes either inspired the creation of Rememberers or capture the spirit of the story.
1. Back to Life - Soul II Soul2. If This It - Huey Lewis & the News3. Love is a Battlefield - Pat Benatar4. You Blinded Me With Science - Thomas Dolby5. Let's Dance - David Bowie6. Set Adrift on Memory Bliss - P.M. Dawn7. I'd Die Without U - P.M. Dawn8. You Gotta Be - Desiree9. Hopeless - Des'ree10. I Know - Dionne Farris11. Next Lifetime - Eryka Badu12. The Light - Common13. I Would Die 4 U - Prince14. Genius of Love - Tom Tom Club15. Fantasy - Mariah Carey16. Always Be My Baby - Mariah Carey17. Fantasy - Earth, Wind, and Fire18. I Wish - Skee-Lo19. I Try - Macy Gray20. 1999 - Prince




RememberersBook 1C. Edward Baldwin
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Ink & Stone Pubishing
Date of Publication: June 2015
ISBN: 978-0692356760
Number of pages: 350Word Count:  99kCover Artist: Clarissa Yeo
Book Description:
In Rememberers, time is not a straight line. It circles back onto itself. Eternal Return is real. But only a small handful of humans know this. And of that handful, an even smaller number of people, known as Rememberers are capable of remembering events from previous life cycles.
Kallie Hunt, a nineteen year old college student, after suffering from a sustained bout of déjà vu, discovers that she’s not only a Rememberer, but also the reincarnation of the goddess Kali and the first woman Eve, and perhaps more importantly, a demon-slayer.
Excerpt: Monday, August 24 Detective Jeremy Stint looked absently at the clock on the wall of his office. He was vaguely aware that it was 7:30 p.m. But his mind wasn't on the time. He was thinking about Phillip Beamer's murder. The murder, which had been committed in the first week of August, had been the first murder in Buckleton in nearly a decade. Murders in Buckleton were as rare as a truth-telling politician. The town was located in a sweet spot in South Carolina about halfway between Charlotte and Columbia. It was off the beaten path for drug runners, therefore drug traffickers and the peripheral trouble usually accompanying them tended to avoid it. It was a town made up mostly of the elderly and middle agers with small children. Young people, considering it the boondocks, high-tailed it out of town as soon as their parents and the law allowed, never looking back, which was just fine by Stint. He'd spent twenty years working homicides in Richmond, Virginia, where murders had seemed to occur as often as hands got dirty. The cities could have their mass population's largess of crime. He'd take the slow pace of Buckleton any day of the week.      The rarity of murders in Buckleton made the occurrence of one more horrifying for the town's citizenry, especially since with Buckleton being a small town, the victim was usually known by all. Strangers were as rare as murders in Buckleton, which made Phillip Beamer's death doubly concerning. No one in town had known the man. It was as if he'd dropped into the town out of the clear blue sky.      Stint reread his notes on the Beamer case. The victim's landlord, Mabel Jones, had nearly tripped over the victim's body on the morning of August 6. It was five o'clock in the morning and Mabel was leaving the house on her way to her second business. She was the proprietress of Belle's Cafe. Beamer had been left on her front porch, stabbed to death. Mabel had been up since four and hadn't heard Beamer leave the house. She thought he was in his room, which was on the house's second floor along with the rooms of her three other borders, all of whom had been sound asleep, hearing nothing.     "I tell you that man was as quiet as a church mouse," she'd said to Stint during her first interview at the station. "He'd barely make a sound. I hardly knew he was there. Unlike those other three who clunk around like show horses."      She'd rented a room to Beamer just two weeks earlier. He'd passed her background check and had excellent credit. He'd told her he was a freelance writer and was working on his first novel.      Mabel sipped from the cup Stint had brought her. Drops of coffee trembled down the cup's sides, lightly dotting the table around it. "He said he needed a quiet place to work. And you know there's no quieter place than Buckleton. Even the wind tiptoes around here. I had no reason to doubt him. Everything had checked out. He was so nice and he paid me six months in advance." When she finished, she looked weakly at Stint as if seeking his forgiveness.      Stint remained stone-faced, but he didn't begrudge the woman's making of a buck, nor did he fault her for harboring a bad apple. Background and credit checks were the staples of the industry and were often a landlord's best and only defense against weirdoes and deadbeats. But they weren't foolproof. Heck, even reference-checking didn't always expose poisonous fruit. There was simply no surefire way for landlords or employers to keep a potential Ted Bundy or Jonathan the Bum from entering their places of business or humble abodes. It was impossible to know everything about everyone. Sometimes personal baggage moved in silent lockstep with applicants. "Did he have any visitors?" Stint had asked her.     "Nary a one," Mabel said. "Like I said, I hardly knew he was there. He was as quiet as a church mouse."     Church mouse, Stint thought somberly. It had been a morbidly fitting analogy. Beamer's head had been nearly decapitated, as if his neck had been snapped off by a human-sized mouse trap. Crime of passion perhaps, he thought.      There was a light rap on the doorframe to his office.      Stint looked up and saw the ICE agent standing in his doorway, holding a briefcase. After the Beamer murder, the agent had shown up at his office unexpectedly. Stint had no idea what Beamer's death had to do with national security. But then again, he didn’t know what the death had to do with anything. "Agent Bennett, come on in."     Bennett stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. Stint offered him the client seat in front of his desk. After an exchange of pleasantries, Bennett sat down in the offered seat and laid his briefcase across his lap. He opened it, pulling out the plastic bags containing the business card and crime scene photos. He handed the items to Stint. "I appreciate you letting me borrow these."     Stint laid them on his desk. "No problem, just professional courtesy. I'll put them in our storage safe. Would you like to share with me why you needed them?"      "Let's just say I wanted to gauge the reaction of a little birdie."     "A suspect?"     Bennett bit his lip. "It's hard to say."       Stint waited a moment to see if the agent was going to add to the short statement. When it was clear that he wasn't, he said, "We don't get much violent crime here. You can imagine the stir this one has caused. If there's anything you could share to help me solve this thing..."     "You're not going to solve it," Bennett said.      "How's that?" Stint asked, his dandruff rising. "I know we're a smalltime outfit, but there's no cause to..."     "That's not what I mean," Bennett interjected. "You're not going to solve it because the murder had nothing to do with Buckleton."       "Well, even a random act of violence happening in my jurisdiction is still my responsibility," Stint said.      "This wasn't a random act of violence."     Stint snatched up the plastic bags and stood up. He walked over to a floor safe tucked into the back corner of his office. He turned the combination lock and popped open the door. He paused and turned to face Bennett, holding the plastic bags up in the air. "Don't you think one professional courtesy deserves another?"      There was a brief pause, and then Bennett said, "Is this place secure?"     Stint just looked at him. Buckleton had a two man police force. Stint was the police chief and lead detective—well, only detective. The other member of the force, Raymond Johns, was home, probably just about ready to tuck his five-year-old son into bed.      "Okay," Bennett said, obviously catching the detective's drift. He nodded for Stint to return to his chair. The police chief placed the plastic bags inside the safe, closed the door, and readjusted the combination lock. After he returned to his chair, Bennett said, "Phillip Beamer was also known as Abu Dawood. He was an American citizen with ties to Al Qaeda."     "He was a terrorist?" Stint asked.     "He was a sleeper cell, planning a terrorist attack against America. He and a group of his cohorts were going to blow up the Strom Thurmond Federal Building in Columbia. We'd been tracking his email communications for a number of years. We'd known about Beamer or Dawood since 2001."     "Who took him out? Was it us?"     "By us, you mean the US government?"     Stint nodded.     "No," Bennett said. "There were no plans to take Dawood/Beamer out. We would have prevented the attack, but he was worth more to us alive than dead."     "Then who?"         Bennett's face drew in as he slowly shook his head. "We don't know."     "But you have a theory," Stint said.     Bennett looked at him curiously for a moment as if trying to gauge his aptitude for hearing the absurd. "Yeah, I do. It's a wild one, maybe even too wild to mention."     "I've been in law enforcement over twenty years. I've just about heard them all."     "A psychic," Bennett said in a matter of fact tone.     "A psychic?" Stint repeated.        "I think someone knew what Dawood/Beamer was planning to do, and then either they or someone they directed killed him before he could carry it out."     "Huh," Stint said. He was skeptical, but not dismissive. He'd known stranger things, like the man who'd thought his dog had commanded him to kill. "What about his cohorts?"     "What about them?" Bennett asked.     "Were any of them killed, too?"     "No," Bennett said. "We have a couple of the ones Dawood/Beamer communicated with via email in custody. But they, too, were sleeper cells and hadn't actually met him."     "Why would someone kill only this Dawood/Beamer character?"     "Because he was the leader. Killing him ended the planned terrorist threat. Dawood had been the lead domino. The other cells were to follow his instructions like trained seals. They knew none of the particulars of the assignment, only their specific roles in it."       "Okay," Stint said. "Let's say a psychic was involved. You have a vigilante on your hands that killed a known terrorist who was planning a horrific act of terrorism against the US. End justifies the means, right?"     "You don't really believe that, do you?" Bennett asked.     He didn't. Vigilantism was just another form of law breaking. To allow it would jeopardize the rule of law in society, ultimately leading to chaos. Not to mention the very real possibility that a vigilante could kill the wrong person. Stint didn't say any of this, but he didn't need to. He could tell Bennett recognized a slip of the tongue when he heard one. "So why do you think he was killed here in Buckleton?"     "Because he was here. His death wasn't connected to the town in any other way."     I guess that's good to know, Stint thought. The last thing Buckleton needed or wanted was someone targeting its citizens. "What's your next step?"     Bennett poked the inside of his jaw with his tongue and looked away. "There isn't a next step. Right now, we wait."     "What should I do about my investigation?"     "Unless you're a glutton for the punishment of an unsolved murder, I'd table it. Beamer's killer is most likely a world away from Buckleton."




About the Author:
C. Edward Baldwin’s debut novel, Fathers House was released in December, 2013 to wide critical acclaim. Kirkus Reviews called his 2014 Reader’s Favorite Award winning crime fiction book, “A resounding story of fatherhood packaged as a tense thriller.” Rememberers is Baldwin’s sophomore effort. Baldwin graduated from North Carolina A&T State University with a BA in Communications and he holds a MA in English from East Carolina. He and his wife Natasha, and their two boys, currently reside in Raleigh, NC.
www.cedwardbaldwin.com      
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7189731.C_Edward_Baldwin
https://cedwardbaldwinblog.wordpress.com/
twitter: @WinCurt
https://www.facebook.com/pages/C-Edward-Baldwin/332395700227959

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Temptation Resorts: Jess by Erzabet Bishop

Temptation Resorts: JessTemptation ResortsBook 2Erzabet Bishop
Genre: erotic romance, BDSM, fantasy vacation
Publisher: SilkWords
Date of Publication: March 2015
ASIN: B00THX7XWY
Number of pages: N/AWord Count:  18,500
Cover Artist: Indie Designz
Book Description:
Glamorous Jess lures her BFF Marnie to an exotic resort where everything's on the menu.
Follow Jess where no choice is too risqué. No passion is forbidden.
Available at Silkwords and Amazon
Excerpt 2
“A slave auction?” She hiccupped. “Really?”Kennedy leaned forward, and her lips curved into a smile. “You’ll be bid on by men and women, and the winner will claim you as slave for the day. Now ... there is one more thing to consider when you get there.” “What?”                        “You could always be the one bidding instead.” Kennedy winked.Jess squirmed in her seat. Heat crept up the back of her neck, and she self-consciously rubbed the spot. “What would I have to do?”“Head to the theater and meet up with Manuel.” Kennedy slid a card across the table. “Here’s my contact info if you need it.”“Do I need to change?”“No. They’ll have wardrobe already set up and waiting for you.” Kennedy handed her another item. “This is a map of the grounds so you don’t get lost.”“Thanks.”“No problem. Now, you’d better get started.” Kennedy stood and headed for the door. “Call if you need me. And remember your safeword. We use red, yellow, and green here — unless you want to change it to something unique?“Those work for me.”“Good. So remember, no one can make you do anything you don’t want to do.”Jess followed Kennedy into the hallway, letting the door shut behind her. She walked briskly to keep up with the other woman.“Have fun, and if you need me, call.” With that, Kennedy vanished behind the sliding door of the elevator.Jess was on her own, her pulse thrumming in her ears. The adventure was about to begin.


About the Author:
Erzabet Bishop is the author of Sigil Fire, Written on Skin: A Sigil Fire short, Fetish Fair, Temptation Resorts interactive erotic romances (upcoming), Holiday Cruise, Gingerbread Dreams, Pomegranate (upcoming), Red Dress, Holidays in Hell,  Sweet Seductions: The Erzabet Bishop Collection and multiple books in the Erotic Pagan Series. She is a contributing author to Club Rook, Taboo II, Hungry for More, Potnia, Wicked Things, Unwrap These Presents, A Christmas to Remember, Forbidden Fruit, Sci Spanks, Spank or Treat, Sweat, When the Clock Strikes Thirteen, Bossy, Cougars, Can’t Get Enough, Slave Girls, Gratis III, The Big Book of Submission, Gratis II, Anything She Wants, Coming Together: Girl on Girl, Coming Together: For the Holidays and more. She was a dual finalist for the GCLS awards in 2014. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. Follow her reviews and posts on Twitter @erzabetbishop.
Wix: http://erzabetwrites.wix.com/erzabetbishop
Facebook “like” page: https://www.facebook.com/erzabetbishopauthor
Amazon author page: http:// amazon.com/author/erzabetbishop/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6590718.Erzabet_Bishop









SilkWords is the go-to source for interactive romance and erotic fiction.
With gorgeous custom covers and a clean, sophisticated design, the SilkWords site offers a secure, upscale reading environment. In addition to content on their web site, they offer stories for purchase in the standard e-book formats.
SilkWords is owned and operated by a full-time mom with a background in genetics and an RWA RITA-nominated, multi-published sci-fi romance author.
Their technology guy and site designer was the founder of Microsoft Xbox Live.
SilkWords features two formats that allow readers to choose how the stories will proceed.
Pick Your Path:
Will she or won't she? With which man (or woman) in which location? With Pick Your Path romance, you decide. Romance and branched fiction are made for each other, like picking your favorite flavor of ice cream...positions, partners, and paraphernalia, oh my!
Reader Vote:
Readers vote at choice points and decide how the story will continue. These stories are a great way for readers and authors to connect. It’s exciting to be part of a developing story!
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A Lost Love Returns by Thomas Briar

A Lost Love ReturnsThomas Briar
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Publisher: MuseItHOT Publishing
Date of Publication: August 28, 2014
ISBN: 978-1-77127-572-9
Number of pages: 22Word Count: 4793 words
Cover Artist: Celairen
Book Trailer: None
Book Description:
Three years after her boyfriend's mysterious disappearance, Clarissa has finally recovered enough to move on with her life. She's graduated from college, found a good job, and is engaged to someone else now. She is happy once again.
So why has Jake, her long lost first love, suddenly turned back up in Key West, Florida at their favorite sidewalk café? Where had he been and what had he been doing during his absence?
But most important of all, what could he possibly want from her after all this time?
Available at Amazon
Excerpt:
Clarissa looked up from her espresso to suffer a shock of disbelief. She blinked several times, thinking her eyes must be deceiving her.  It couldn't be him. It just couldn't be.Yet, there he sat three tables away from her—the lost love of her life—having returned to Key West and their favorite sidewalk café from…? She honestly couldn’t say because she didn't know where he'd disappeared to or the reason behind his sudden abandonment of her three years ago.She trembled in the warm morning air as a plethora of emotions assaulted her beleaguered mind in quick succession: anxiety, intrigue, longing, regret, anguish, love, sorrow, and finally…indignation.With every passing second that she resisted the tremendous urge to get up from her seat and walk over to make her presence known, the more equilibrium she regained. She could not, would not, go to him. At twenty-five years of age, with more life experience than most women her age, she knew all about the virtues of having patience.To help sustain her resolve, she looked up at the clear blue sky, the other patrons enjoying their morning coffee, a lone car coming down the street, the group of retirees huffing along the sidewalk for exercise, everywhere except at him.When she couldn't take the suspense any longer, her gaze returned to her former lover. He remained sitting there all alone, head tilted down as he texted on his cellphone.  He looked pretty much the same as she remembered.In fact, he still parted his dark, wavy hair on the left side, although it was now cut short. He was very tan and his clean shaven, angular face still matched his lean muscular body perfectly. The board shorts, T-shirt, and sneakers he wore lent an impression of youthful vitality. Yeah, his early thirties looked really good on him.In comparison, she hadn't changed much either, although she now colored her curly blond hair a soft light brown. She'd also grown it out to mid-way her back but still kept it cut around her oval face. She thought this hairdo best suited her voluptuous, hourglass figure. And the pants suit with heels she wore today fit her better than the tank tops, cut-off shorts, and flip-flops ever had. As she continued staring at him and obsessing over his reappearance, she couldn’t help remembering how safe she'd felt within his strong embrace…how lucky she'd believed she had been at finally having met a man to share her whole heart with…how well their bodies had fit together…and lastly, of how much soul-connecting lovemaking they'd indulged in. What had gone so wrong for him to abandon her without an explanation? And why had he suddenly turned up again?Under her patient gaze, it became inevitable that he would eventually look up and see her. The moment it happened, his blue eyes widened, his face went slack, and then he mouthed her name in silent recognition. She only stared back at his stunned expression, trying her best to hide her own inner turmoil.He promptly got up and came over. In a deeply masculine voice, he said, "Hello, Clarissa. I was hoping I'd run into you here. May I sit with you?"She stared up into his pale blue eyes, melting a little on inside. But still, she somehow held onto enough of her composure to say, "I don't know, Jake. You'll probably disappear on me if I turn my back for a second. So maybe you shouldn't.""I have a very good explanation for my disappearance." He pulled out the patio chair across from her and sat without permission."Men always do, don't they?" She'd looked across the street at an elderly couple walking along holding hands. An old scar burst open inside her heart. She'd once envisioned Jake and her growing old together."I went away because—""Don't care to hear it." She cut him off, wanting to hurt him like he'd hurt her. She kept looking at the old couple while absently twisting her coffee cup around and around. "Besides, I'm getting along just fine without you. In fact, have you heard the news? I'm getting married in three weeks.""Yeah, I read about it in the paper a few weeks ago.""So you get the paper delivered to wherever you've been." She smiled at the old woman giggling at something the old man had said. Underneath the terrible pain searing her heart, she added, "And I saw you with a cellphone. You were texting, I believe. So you're obvious up to date with the modern technology of our times.""I read the local paper online. And yes, I have a cellphone. I get it—you think I should have already contacted you.""Yes, I do.""I always thought I'd get back to you and Key West sooner.""Oh yeah?" She shrugged her shoulders, keeping her gaze on the old couple. "I thought that too, right up until I decided you were either dead, or wasn't ever coming back.""I almost did die, several times," he stated. Then, in exasperation, "Won't you at least look at me? I can explain what happened.""Why should I let you? As I remember it, you received a mysterious phone call in the middle of the night, and then you got really agitated before leaving without a word of explanation.""I—""Not your turn to talk, Jake!" Clarissa cut him off again, still refusing to look at him. "I think it's time we play a little game of who-knows-what. I'll start it off. You can jump in whenever I ask a question."


About the Author:
Edgy and provocative in his writings, Thomas Briar strives to exalt the virtues of love and lust in every erotic story he creates. To date, he's garnered eleven publishing contracts with three different publishers and has seven published books in the marketplace.
When he's not writing, he enjoys reading, spending time with his wife, taking long walks, and people watching. Yeah, he's always wondering what makes people do the things they do. He knows it's usually something hidden in plain sight. He just has to figure out what it is, much like the motivations of the characters in his stories.
http://thomasbriar.com/
Amazon Author Pagehttp://www.amazon.com/Thomas-Briar/e/B00K34T4SW/
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February 23 Spotlight and reviewRomantic Fanatichttp://romanticfanaticblog.com/
February 23 Character InterviewAuthor Karen Swartwww.authorkarenswart.blogspot.com
February 24 SpotlightBooks to Light Your Firehttp://bookstolightyourfire.blogspot.com
February 25 InterviewRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com
February 26 Guest blogThe Creatively Green Write at Home Momwww.creativelygreen.blogspot.com
February 27 SpotlightBeppe DM Books Blog  http://www.dmgsoft.eu/
March 2 SpotlightFreshly Baked Bookshttp://freshlybakedbooks.blogspot.com/
March 3 SpotlightShare My Destinyhttp://sharemydestiny.blogspot.com
March 4 Reviewfeedmeinbookswww.feedmeinbooks.wordpress.com
March 5 SpotlightHouston Havens –https://houstonhavens.wordpress.com
March 6 InterviewEclipse Reviewswww.totaleclipsereviews.blogspot.com
March 9 Guest blogARe Cafewww.AReCafe.com
March 9 SpotlightLisa’s World of Bookswww.lisasworldofbooks.net

Kindle Freebie- Dewdrops and Decadence: A Collection of Erotic Poetry

Free at Amazon March 6 and 7
Dewdrops and DecadenceA Collection of Erotic PoetryRoxanne Rhoads
Print Length: 55 pages
Publisher: Bewitching Books 
Release date: March 3, 2015
ASIN: B00SQ87E9S
This arousing collection of erotic poetry will delight your senses and stimulate your mind. 
Ranging from soft and sensual to explicitly erotic, lovers of erotica are sure to find something to tempt and titillate.
Flip through the pages with a lover or enjoy them alone as naughty bedtime reading.
Available at Amazon

A poem from the collection:

In the Clearing
Chasing butterflies I found you in the clearingbathed in sunlight soft and sweetWillow wisp and grass litheyour body was the rock that grounded me
Butterflies fluttered byas I tasted your desirewild on the air, thick as honeyI kissed your lips to ease your need
Nature stood sentinel around ustestament to beauty, love, creationKeeper of primordial secretsGuard of our private playground
Butterfly kisses and tongue tickling caresseslove made blissful in sunlight glowMore than just a roll in the haya union of souls in dewy morning grass
You touched my soul as I held your heartButterfly whimsy and childish delight,laughter and love sounds broke the silence of the woodBare sweat and dew drenched limbs lay tangled in sun glow
Breathless bodies eventually partedFull of joy and love soaked energyDrunk off passion playNot quite ready to face a busy day
Never wanting to leavebut there was work to doI followed the butterfliesbut they always led me back to you

Guest Blog and Giveaway Earth’s Imagined Corners by Tamara Linse

All Stories Are Ghost Stories by Tamara Linse
I recently read Kelly Link’s great short story “Two Houses” in The Best Science Fiction of the Year, Volume Seven . It’s also in her new collection Get in Trouble .
It’s such a great story.  Two sister ships are sent out into deep space, and one of the ships disappears in the blink of an eye. Years later, the crew of the second ship awakes from hypersleep for a birthday party and to tell ghost stories.  There’s the story of the ghostly people looking up from the table in the meadow. There’s the little girl cut in half by a falling tree. There’s the rich aristocratic boyfriend who lived in two identical ghost-ridden houses. I won’t tell you the end, but it gives me the chills just to think about it.
That got me thinking. Someone much smarter than I said that all stories are ghost stories, and I think that’s true.  We writers are in the industry of memory.  We take our own emotional memories, and we bleed them out on the page. 
Our best writing comes from those things that haunt us, the make us uncomfortable, that embarass us, that shake us to our bones.  One of my mentors, Steve Almond, once said, “Run screaming toward the pain.” It’s so true.  We writers have to embrace discomfort and pain in a way others can avoid.  We have to “go there” in our minds, experience things, in order to write about them.  If your character is dying, you have to experience what that’s like in order to write about it, even if it’s just research. You have to imagine it.  You have to imagine the worst possible scenarios to make them real on the page, and the more fully you imagine them and convey that, the better the work is.
My novel Earth’s Imagined Corners is a ghost story because it’s my imagining of what my great grandfather and great grandmother went through as he grew up in poverty and was thrown in prison for a horse thief.  Them meeting and marrying and moving to Kansas City to open a store.  These are some of my ghosts ~ Ma Strong and her husband Frank. It haunts me, how Frank and his mother were in poverty. How Frank was both a good man and also did things like stealing horses and chasing his wife with an ax. 
It’s also my ghost story because it takes my deepest feelings of terror and puts them on the page.  I fear the powerlessness that comes with being a woman, and it was so much moreso in the 1880s.  I am deeply saddened by poverty, and I empathize with that little boy who was so powerless to help himself and his mother.  I feel in some small way the terror and struggle of what it was like ~ and still is ~ to be black in America.  And there’s the physical struggle of trying to escape natural disasters large and small.
Writers find different ways to show these ghosts.  Some people are literally drawn to ghosts, and there are so many wonderful ghost stories. In addition to Kelly Link, Harry Potter comes to mind. And sometimes those ghosts are morphed into other forms, whether it’s historical fiction or science fiction or paranormal.  It’s taking the metaphor and putting your own personal twist on it.  And I love that.  I love that two people can take the exact same idea and their stories will be so different.  It’s the one thing that is uniquely ours ~ unique in the true sense of the word, as in the only one in the world.  That’s what you offer: your unique take on things. 
And so I would encourage you to take that thing that makes you so special ~ your unique take on the world ~ and write the very best stories you can.  The world would be poorer without your ghosts.
Photo: The author’s great grandparents Frank and Ellen Strong.


Earth’s Imagined CornersThe Round Earth SeriesBook 1Tamara Linse
Genre: Historical Fiction
Publisher: Willow Words
Date of Publication: January 31, 2015
ISBN: 978-0-9909533-1-9          ASIN: B00T18RRNK
Number of pages: 472Word Count: 130,000
Book Description:
In 1885 Iowa, Sara Moore is a dutiful daughter, but when her father tries to force her to marry his younger partner, she must choose between the partner—a man who treats her like property—and James Youngblood—a kind man she hardly knows who has a troubled past.
When she confronts her father, he beats her and turns her out of the house, breaking all ties, so she decides to elope with James to Kansas City with hardly a penny to their names.
In the tradition of Willa Cather’s O Pioneers! and Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God, Earth’s Imagined Corners is a novel that comprehends the great kindnesses and violences we do to each other.

Available at Amazon

Excerpt:
Anamosa, Iowa, 1885
Sara Moore should have nothing to fear this week. She had been meticulous in her entering into the ledger the amounts that Minnie the cook requested she spend on groceries. She had remembered, just, to include her brother Ed’s purchase of materials to mend sister Maisie’s doll house and to subtract the pickling salt that she had purchased for sister Esther but for which Esther’s husband Gerald had reimbursed her. She stood at her father’s shoulder as he went over the weekly household accounts, and even though her father owned Moore Grocer & Sundries from which she ordered the family’s groceries, he still insisted she account for the full price in the ledger. “No daughter of mine,” he often said, though sometimes he would finish the thought and sometimes his neatly trimmed eyebrows would merely bristle.Despite the buttressing of her corset, Sara hunched forward, somewhat reducing her tall frame. She intertwined her fingers so that she would not fiddle with the gathers of soft navy wool in her overskirt, and she tried not to breathe too loudly, so as not to bother him, nor to breathe too deeply, in order to take in little of the cigar smoke curling up from his elephant-ivory ashtray on the hulking plantation desk. As always, the heavy brocade curtains armored Colonel Moore’s study against the Iowa day, so the coal oil lamps flickered in their brackets. Per instructions, Sipsy the maid lit them early every morning, snuffed them when he left for the grocery, lit them again in anticipation of his return at seven, and then snuffed them again after he retired. It was an expense, surely, but one that Sara knew better than to question. The walls of the study were lined with volumes of military history and maps of Virginia and Georgia covered in lines, symbols, and labels carefully inked in Colonel Moore’s hand. In its glass case on the bureau rested Colonel Moore’s 1851, an intricately engraved pistol awarded to him during the War of Northern Aggression. Sipsy dusted daily, under stern directive that not a speck should gather upon any surface in the room.Sara’s father let out a sound between an outlet of breath and a groan. This was not good. He was not pleased. Sara straightened her shoulders and took a breath and held it but let her shoulders slump forward once more.“My dear,” he said, his drawl at a minimum, “your figures, once again, are disproportionate top to bottom. And there is too much slant, as always, in their curvatures. I urge you to practice your penmanship.” His tone was one of indulgence.Inaudibly, Sara let out her breath. If he was criticizing her chirography, then he had found nothing amiss in the numbers. The accounts were sound for another week. Later, when he checked the numbers against the accounts at the grocery, there was less of a chance that she had missed something.He closed the ledger, turned his chair, and with both hands held the ledger out to her. She received it palms up and said, “I will do better, Father.” “You would not want to disappoint to your mother.” His drawl was more pronounced.So he had regretted his indulgence and was not satisfied to let her go unchecked. His wife, Sara’s mother, had been dead these five years, and since then Sara had grown to take her place, running the household, directing the servants, and caring for six year-old Maisie. Ed needed little looking after, as he was older than Sara, though unmarried, and Esther, the oldest, was married with two daughters and farm of her own.Sara straightened her shoulders again and hugged the ledger to her chest. “Yes, Father,” she said and turned and left the room, trying to keep her pace tranquil and unhurried. She went to the kitchen, where Minnie had a cup of coffee doused with cream and sugar awaiting her. Minnie gave her an encouraging smile, and though Sara did not acknowledge what went unsaid between them—one must shun familiarity with the servants—she lifted her shoulders slightly and said, “Thank you, Minnie.” Minnie, with the round figure and dark eyes of a Bohemian, understood English well, though she still talked with a pronounced accent, and Sara had only heard her speak the round vowels and chipped consonants of her native tongue once, when a delivery man indigenous to her country of origin walked into the kitchen with mud on his boots. Sara tucked the ledger in its place on a high shelf and then allowed herself five minutes of sipping coffee amid the wonderful smells of Minnie’s pompion tart. Then she rose, rinsed her cup, and applied herself to her day. The driver had Father’s horse and gig waiting, as always, at twenty minutes to nine. As Father stretched his fingers into his gloves, pulling them tight by the wrist leather, he told Sara, “When you come at noon, I have something unusual to show you.”“Yes, Father,” she said. It seemed odd that he would concern her with anything to do with business. He left her to the household. He had long tried to coerce Ed into the business, but Ed’s abilities trended more toward the physical. He was a skilled carpenter, though Father kept a close rein on where he took jobs and whom he worked for. All talk of renaming the business Moore & Son had been dropped when Father had recently promoted the young man who was his assistant, Chester O’Hanlin, to partner. Mr. O’Hanlin had droopy red muttonchops and a body so long and thin he looked a hand-span taller than he really was, which was actually a bit shorter than Sara. Mr. O’Hanlin didn’t talk much, either, and he seemed always to be listening. He held himself oddly, cocking his head to one side, first one way and then the other, his small dark eyes focusing off to the left or right of the speaker. His nose, long and wedge-shaped, seemed to take up half his face. “Chester, the Chinaman,” Maisie called him outside of his presence because of the way he stooped and bobbed whenever their father entered the room.


About the Author:
Tamara Linse jokes that she was raised in the 1880s, and so it was natural for her to set a book there. She is the author of the short story collection How to Be a Man and the novel Deep Down Things and earned her master’s in English from the University of Wyoming, where she taught writing. Her work appears in the Georgetown Review, South Dakota Review, and Talking River, among others, and she was a finalist for an Arts & Letters and Glimmer Train contests, as well as the Black Lawrence Press Hudson Prize for a book of short stories. She works as an editor for a foundation and a freelancer.
Find her online at www.tamaralinse.com and her blog Writer, Cogitator, Recovering Ranch Girl at www.tamara-linse.blogspot.com
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/tlinse
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Goodreads Book Giveaway Earth's Imagined Corners by Tamara Linse Giveaway ends April 02, 2015.
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Guest Blog: Remember The Maelstrom by Josh Sinason

Edmond Hamilton and Writing Fantastic Space BattlesJosh Sinason

I’ve only discovered Edmond Hamilton in the last few months.  In a way, I’m glad I found him after Remember The Maelstrom because I might have lost my nerve for science fiction and for space exploration fiction after reading work of that quality.  The things the man did with anepic space battle elevated it to new heighs.

Edmond Hamilton was the first science fiction author published in hardcover, a short story collection including the novella The Stars My Brothers, a story about an astronaut unfrozen  years after his presumed death and dragged into a planetary rebellion of lizard people.  Our hero encounters a planet where humans are primates and ruled by the lizard men in a story eerily reminiscent of the movie Planet of the Apes years before the movie’s release.

Hamilton’s agent in the early part of his career was a man named Julius Schwartz, agent to Ray Bradbury and H.PLovecraft amongst others.  But he’d go on to great success as the longest running editor of the Superman comics and he brought in many noted science fiction writers from his agency list but none of them made the impact like Hamilton made.  Hamilton was one of the first writers to bring a hard science fiction element into superhero comics predating work like Watchmen by over thirty years.  Hamilton’s Superman dealt with corrupt military, cloning and the nature of life and death, and in my personal favorite Superman story, Action  Comics 300, the man of steel dealt with the possibility of a world he couldn’t protect, stripped of his powers in a post apocalyptic future and forced to fight for his lif, Hamilton’s Superman was forced to really live up to the name or die trying.  Hamilton’s comics were considered old fashioned by the sixties when camp elements entered the genre but they remain decades ahead of their time.

My favorite Hamilton story, The Sargasso of Space, involved a battle over a salvage yard between one spaceship and a group of pirates.  Yes they’re lizard men too..frogs this time.  It’s kind of a thing with him Lizard men, Frog men, even his Superman comics featured multiple anthropomorphic characters, hero and villain alike.  It speaks to Hamilton’s views on the nature of humanity, regardless of reptile or mammal; we all have a choice in what we become.

The true gift of that particular Hamilton story was the way he writes a space battle.  Space battles tend read like someone describing a world war two dogfight movie to their friends or are done from the perceptive of someone on the ground.  Hamilton puts the reader not just right in the action, but into the eyeballs of someone behind the wheel of a spaceship.  We see what they see and Hamilton flat out refuses to give you any more even if it means we miss some action somewhere else.  

I admire the gumption it takes to just let that kind of thing linger, to tell your audience you don’t care if they miss something because that’s not the part of the story we’re in right now.  It takes a discipline I hope to have someday. 

Decades before Neil Gaiman did it, Edmond Hamilton went seamlessly between comics and novels, and finally leaving comics completely in the mid sixties but his stuff was reprinted long after and was even adapted into an episode of an animated series.  He died in 1977 one year before his wife, herself an accomplished author and screenwriter, Leigh Bracket.  (She is credited with writing a little film called Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back and adapting The Big Sleep to the screen.) I’m still discovering Hamilton’s work both in comics and novels and it excites me as science fiction fan…and scares the heck out of me as a writer.

Remember The MaelstromJosh Sinason
Genre: Sci-fi Romance
Publisher: TWB Press
Number of pages: 40Word Count: 10,000
Book Description:
A botched investigation into the past triggers a domino effect, thrusting T.I. Agent Amanda West into a race to get home to the man she loves in a future that may no longer exist. 



Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/q7SzyIivKXk
Available at Amazon    Smashwords     TWB Press
Excerpt:
“Let’s go, rookie.” I set my blaster on stun. “I want to be home in time for dinner.”Corporal Winger nodded and drew his gun.I noticed his hand shake. That should have been my first cue something was wrong. He clutched his gun so tense his knuckles turned white. This was his first op, and it already went way far south way too soon. This was just supposed to be a routine run: bring back a fugitive who had bolted through an unauthorized time portal. We were the closest ship to it. He was just one guy, but he had a gun. Who would have thought things could’ve gone so wrong?I kissed the scar on my right hand before we chased him through Central Park in the year 2014. It was a silly ritual, but when I found myself far from home, I started to get superstitious. On cold nights, when time, space, and a universe kept me away, I’d look at that scar and think about Parker.Winger was a hair faster than me catching up with our time jumper. Maybe if I’d been there a second or two sooner I could have stopped him, but I arrived just in time to watch him aim his gun. I was just within view when our jumper pulled in a hostage, a little girl, something that would’ve made any experienced agent hold his fire.Winger was just reacting on instinct.  He didn’t pull back in time, and the guy held the kid in front of him. The scene played out in slow motion. Maybe Winger thought he could make a head-shot on the perp, or maybe he just fired in the heat of the moment; we were both tired. All I knew was, as the girl and our jumper fell to the ground, the look of horror on Winger’s face didn’t last long.I’d never seen a person fade from existence before, not until that moment. The theory, according to Temporal Investigations, was that one dies before actually disappearing completely. Sheer shock and horror was the killer, like falling off a tall building. But Winger looked me in the eyes the entire time, silently pleading for help as he faded right in front of me. I reached out to grab his hand, but it vanished, and that’s when I noticed my scar begin to ghost.I didn’t know who that little girl was. Maybe she had invented something that made the Galactic Conferences possible, or maybe she was the grandmother of the grandmother of someone who assigned cores in the Academy, and because she no longer existed in the future, Parker and I may have ended up in different course plans. Or maybe she did something at just the right moment, a move in one direction or another, a decade from now, and things just fell into place for us. It was impossible to tell what could happen without her influence, but I feared something was wrong. I could have lost Parker already without even knowing it.When I saw that scar on my hand ghost, I knew it was a sign that the time stream was starting to realign. We were briefed on ghosting at the Academy. They told us to run; they said always run back to the ship, flat out as fast as we could. But we all knew the truth. We couldn’t outrun a time realignment. It would be like outrunning the hand of the universe.The moment I saw that scar flicker, I took off in a dead sprint back to the ship and leaped into the captain’s chair. As the controls came on around me I felt the hum of the hyperspace time bubble curling around the ship like a warm blanket. Then, when I tried to catch my breath, I felt a hot sting in my gut. Our jumper had managed to get off a shot, and as luck would have it, his blaster charge went straight through Winger’s ghosting body and hit me in the stomach. I did my best to breathe slowly, but each inhale felt like razor blades slicing through my chest. I winced and put pressure on the singed and bloody wound then throttled up the engines.“Well today just sucked, didn’t it.” I looked at the picture of Parker I kept on my dashboard. We had our pictures taken when we were assigned to The Bartlett. Knowing this meant I hadn’t forgotten about him...at least not yet. Then I looked to make sure the hyperspace time bubble had restored the scar on my hand. Yes. I gave it another kiss for luck. Just lifting my arm sent shooting pains through my stomach, but I figured I needed a fair amount of luck right about then, so the pain was worth the effort.“Just make it home for dinner.” I clutched the steering yoke tightly. “Just one more trip.” I forced a breath. “Let me see that everything is all right with Parker. Then let whatever changes I’ve made to the future do what they will to me.”“Some time cop I turned out to be.”I slammed on the thrusters hard and gunned the engine boosters through the time jump, but the inertia field didn’t have time to boot up, so I felt my ribs crack as my chest slammed against the crash belt and the back of my head bounced off the top of my chair.I screamed in pain.In flight school I had experienced what happened without an inertia field. Senior cadets would watch Parker and I train in the flight deck sim. We’d shoot to hyperspace without any problems. But every once in a while the cadets would program in an inertia field glitch just to see how we’d respond to the stress, at least that’s what they told the instructors. It was really a rite of passage made worse by the fact that the simulator didn’t have crash belts, so the only way to go was flying backwards. If it wasn’t for the crash helmets, our brains would’ve splattered against the cold metal exit door.“Stupid prank,” I said, spitting blood. I was bleeding internally. The scar on my hand ghosted again. The time bubble was weakening already, so I started going over my past, wondering just how much of it I would forget.I decide to listen to my personal logs and make sure everything was just as I remembered. Hopefully that last ghosting wasn’t a sign that I was too late. The computer accessed my files, starting with my first week studying for the Academy mid-terms.I remembered that day by the lake on the Academy grounds, fresh in my mind no matter what time jump I was in. The lake was clear blue enough that I could see the incoming spaceships reflected in the surface. I had sat there so often over that first month I could tell how low the ships were flying by the ripples their wakes made in the water.I sat near a tree, hoping to keep my mind on my introductory engineering midterm studies. Sometimes the Academy felt like a monster looking to swallow cadets whole, but out there, under the shuttles flying by and the transport ships jumping to hyperspace like little daylight shooting stars, the Academy grounds felt peaceful. That day the transports lit up the clouds like purple and red lightning. I listened to the low rumble of the shuttles as I skipped a rock across the water. Then I cracked open a book.

About the Author:
Josh Sinason grew up in DeKalb, Illinois, and has been featured in the Two With Water reading series and at DIY-Film.com.
In addition he has won the Creativity in Media award for his work on www.stairwellblog.com  
His work has been recently featured in Burroughs Publishing Lunchbox Romance Line and Eternal Press’ young adult fiction line.
https://twitter.com/JRSinason
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8094737.Josh_Sinason/blog

March 2 InterviewDeal Sharing Auntwww.dealsharingaunt.blogspot.com
March 2 SpotlightHywela Lynwww.hywelalyn.blogspot.com
March 3 Guest blogThe Creatively Green Write at Home Momwww.creativelygreen.blogspot.com
March 3 Spotlight3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, & Sissy, Too!  http://3partnersinshopping.blogspot.com
March 4 SpotlightBooks and Tales:http://booksandtales.blogspot.co.uk/
March 4 SpotlightFang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
March 5 SpotlightSapphyria's Book Reviewshttp://saphsbookblog.blogspot.com/
March 6 SpotlightLisa’s World of Bookswww.lisasworldofbooks.net
March 6 Character InterviewEclipse Reviewswww.totaleclipsereviews.blogspot.com
March 9 InterviewAuthor Karen Swartwww.authorkarenswart.blogspot.com
March 9 Guest BlogRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com

Cover Reveal Unhinged by Shelley R. Pickens

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UnhingedThe Haunting of SecretsBook 2 of the TrilogyShelley R. Pickens
Genre: YA, mystery, paranormal
Publisher:  Fire and IceImprint of Melange Books
Date of Publication:  March 2015
Word Count: 62,364
Cover Artist:  Caroline Andrus
Book Description:
Being normal isn't always a good thing, especially if it ends up killing you.Aimee, the sixteen year old girl who can see your every memory with just one touch, is fresh out of the torture room after risking everything to capture a killer.
Despite her instinct to avoid contact with others, she tries her best to find a new normal at school - perhaps even a boyfriend. But for those who are cursed, happiness and normality aren’t easy to obtain. A bizarre illness is spreading like wildfire through the school causing those around Aimee to lose their sanity before falling into a coma. Slowly, all the people she loves succumb to this strange disease.
Alone and terrified, she must use her curse to find a way to save her family and friends. As she delves deeper and deeper into their memories, she realizes a delusional person from her childhood named David is the bigger threat that could end up destroying her. Despite the danger that surrounds her, she struggles to solve the puzzle before it’s too late to help those she cares for the most.
But as David moves closer to eliminating her, one puzzle still remains. Will she be able to save herself?



Book Trailer for Book One: http://youtu.be/cQvKX0rb-Zg
Book 1 The Haunting of Secrets Available on Amazon  BN   Goodreads

About the Author:
Shelley Pickens is a Spanish teacher by day and a novelist by night. She's been in love with everything paranormal since she can remember. After years of teaching high school students, she decided to take her firsthand knowledge of young adults and apply it to her passion for creative writing and fantasy. When not teaching or writing, Shelley likes to spend time with her husband and two beautiful children in Atlanta, Ga. Her escape from reality is her love of complex thriller and science fiction TV series like Supernatural and Sleepy Hollow. In her spare time she is an avid watcher of little league baseball. THE HAUNTING OF SECRETS is her debut novel.
Website: www.shelleypickens.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/shelleypickens