Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 425
August 11, 2014
Blitz: Extraordinary Love by Micah Persell
Extraordinary LoveMicah Persell (author touring), Kathleen Shaputis, Holley Trent, Andrea R. Cooper, Candace Sams, Spring Stevens, Bobbi Romans, Lisa White, Becky Flade, Danica WintersGenre: ParanormalPublisher: Crimson RomanceDate of Publication: August 4, 2014
ISBN: 1440583269ISBN 13: 9781440583261ASIN:
Book Bundle containing 10 full category-length novels
Book Description:
Everybody needs love — especially those sexy shapeshifters, gentlemen ghosts, misunderstood demons and witches, and intergalactic leaders. You’ll find all of these otherworldly heartthrobs -- and the strong, sexy women who make their perfect matches -- in this captivating collection of paranormal titles from Crimson Romance.
Titles include:
Of Eternal Life: Micah PersellHer Ghost Wears Kilts: Kathleen ShaputisA Demon in Waiting: Holley TrentThe Garnet Dagger: Andrea R. CooperThe Peacekeeper’s Soul: Candace SamsEmbrace the Fire: Spring StevensSwamp Magic: Bobbi RomansDiscovery: Lisa WhiteFated Souls: Becky FladeThe Nymph’s Labyrinth: Danica Winters
Available at Amazon
Chapter One Of Eternal Life by Micah Persell
Abilene Miller, sitting cross-legged on the floor, squinted at the rolls of gauze on the shelf in front of her through the fringe of her lashes. When the gauze blended into something resembling a snow-covered mountain, she sighed with satisfaction and leaned her head back against the wall behind her. The supply closet was the coolest place in the hospital, and with this little trick, she could almost fool herself into thinking she was not in the God-forsaken Mojave Desert.“Southern California, you lying bitch,” she murmured as she took a vehement bite from her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.Dreams of rolling ocean waves, vibrant night life, and Disneyland had quickly given way to the reality that was Needles, California: a small town of 4,000 outside of the Mojave National Preserve.Of course, the two military recruiters who had come to her hometown of Aspen, Colorado, right after med school to convince her to come work in their “cutting edge” research facility had played up those very tourist attractions in a way that merited a court martial for perjury. If that was even a thing that could happen. She didn’t know. Military I am not, she thought in amusement as she set aside her sandwich for a baggie of Oreos.She sighed again, this time in disgust. Top 5 percent of my class at Duke University Medical School, and I get duped. She hadn’t even begun her residency, and these guys had wanted her. Really, really wanted her. Enough to throw an obscene amount of money at her, making “no” an impossibility. And if she had thought it was suspicious that they wanted to hire her before she had even seen the facility, the pull of finally being on her own had overshadowed the oddity.She snorted. “On her own” was proving to be an elusive concept. In fact, she felt as though every step she took was measured. She lived in a military dormitory with the four other women who worked in the labs. They all carpooled to work each morning, and the head of the hospital, Major Taylor, seemed to lurk around every corner, as aware of her movements as her overbearing parents.Abilene knew she’d made a mistake in taking this job. She just so badly needed to prove herself. What was that old adage? If it sounds too good to be true, don’t effing move into a military compound?“Abilene, you in here?”She gave an unfeminine grunt in response and returned her attention to her Oreos. The door edged open, and Dahlia looked in.“Oh, Abi, hon, are you fantasizing that the gauze is snow again?”“Among other things,” Abilene replied.Dahlia shut the door behind her and sank down to the floor beside Abilene, reaching over and snagging an Oreo from the baggie. She turned her warm caramel-colored eyes toward Abilene.“Tough day?”Abilene met her friend’s gaze. “Dahlia, how many patients have you seen today?”Understanding lit in her friend’s eyes. Dahlia had been at the facility longer than Abilene. She had been recruited straight out of the University of Pennsylvania, also before her residency, and had been working here for nearly ten months. From their talks, Abilene knew it had been a long ten months.“Abi, I haven’t seen any patients today. You know that.”Abilene nodded. Both women had come to this hospital in part because they believed in the cause. According to the military recruitment team that had visited each of them, the government was conducting an experiment in which they planned to refurbish small, abandoned military buildings in rural areas. These facilities would be for the local population as well as for the processing of the armed forces’ medical tests. The facilities would employ civilian doctors, but they would be funded by the government and sanctioned by the military.It was nice in theory; however, the largely Native American population in Needles viewed any help from the government with suspicion, understandably so, and avoided the new hospital as though they still used plague-ridden blankets — a reaction the government had to have expected, which lead Abilene to wonder what the real purpose of this facility was. It was hard to believe she and the other women were here just to run labs.“What are we doing here?” Abilene pushed a hand through her short blonde curls in frustration. “Damn it, I want to see patients. I want to save lives. I want to do something.” Dahlia broke eye contact and looked at the floor.Abilene blew out a breath. “Sorry.” She offered a smile. She’d gotten carried away again. “Jeez, I’m sorry, Dahlia. I know you’re frustrated, too.”Dahlia gave Abilene’s knee a squeeze. “Hey,” she shrugged, “the government is paying us to run labs and make friends. What’s to complain about?” She rose to her feet in effortless grace, turning to offer Abilene a hand up. “Come on. Treat you to a Diet Coke from the vending machine?”This was turning into a tradition among the women at the hospital. Whenever one of them had a meltdown, it always ended with Diet Coke, which, personally, Abilene loathed. The other women sucked it down like ambrosia.“Oh baby, you know just what I like,” Abilene said in a breathy voice, grasping Dahlia’s proffered hand while shoving thoughts of her disappointing career aside. She rose to her feet, much less gracefully than Dahlia. “You and your weird Swan Lake moves suck, you know,” she grumbled.Dahlia chuckled and glided out into the hall.• • •Awareness flooded his senses so quickly he choked on his gasp of air. For several moments all he could do was gulp as his body took over in its need for oxygen. His lungs burned. He could hear his ragged breaths echoing around him, bouncing around an empty cavern.Where am I?His instinct urged him to take in any details he could. He heard a measured beep. His frantic mind wouldn’t place it. In fact, he couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but that hysterical pull of air. Panic crept into the edges of his consciousness, causing his heart rate to thump.Where was he? What was happening? Why was he … afraid?God, not fear.His mind clamped down on him. Fear was dangerous.Regulate breathing. Determine surroundings. He clenched his teeth behind closed lips. Slowly, steadily, he drew a measured breath through his nose. The debilitating fear in his chest abated. Again, an internal voice whispered.He pulled another breath through flared nostrils, this time blowing it out between parted, parched lips. As the panic receded, he noticed the incessant beeping slowed. In an instant, he discerned the beeping: his own heart rate.A medical facility.I’m hurt? He took mental inventory of his body. The sudden awareness of his limbs brought an onrush of pain. His bones felt crushed, agony knifed through him, and he groaned in the back of his throat.Pain. Familiar pain. He was not a stranger to this anguish. He eased his eyes open. An involuntary moan escaped his lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the bright lights.“1457, subject is stirring. Shows signs of light-related visual pain.”Intense, animal fear arose at the sound of the clinical voice above his head. At the alarming reference to a subject.As in test subject? Ah, God …He held his breath as he processed this new information, what the presence of that voice meant.I’m not alone.For some reason, instead of calming him, this revelation ratcheted the terror tighter, to the snapping point. The inner voice whispered urgently:This man is dangerous.A lock fell from a hidden cache of information in his brain. He recognized the voice that whispered to him. The Voice had been his constant companion since this nightmare had begun. Now, the Voice whispered the identity of the other person in the room: The Tormentor. The beep above his left shoulder sped up as panic rushed in again. The muscles in his arms and legs clamped down as his mind scrambled over fight-or flight.This involuntary movement caused more pain to slice through him, and he just stopped another moan from rising out of his chest. He could not let himself make any sounds of distress. Another revelation from that hidden instinct: Hide your suffering. He loves it.Oh, God. How did he know that? There was no doubt in his mind that he knew that from personal experience. This newest revelation solved his fight-or-flight dilemma: flight.He moved his left arm infinitesimally to determine how much pain he would be dealing with when he fled. He became aware of the cold, cutting metal impeding further movement.A new flare of panic. Oh, no. Not that. He moved his arm again and met the same immovable restraint. He tried to move his feet. He was shackled. The sharp edges of the metal binding his wrists and ankles bit into his skin, adding to the buffet of pain, but his terror would not allow him to cease his struggles.His mind screamed at him, urging his body to do the impossible.“1500, subject is showing usual onset of panic at regained consciousness. Thrashing has opened wounds at the sites where he is restrained.”The last of his confusion melted away. He remembered. He remembered everything, and knew he was lost. There would be no escape, just as there had been no escape for the past eight years. He’d been through this before. The panicked awakening. The fierce pain swamping every corner of his existence. The dawning horror of remembered tortures.When he forced his eyes open, ignoring the sting of the bright operating room lights, a familiar figure approached.“Always such a fuss, hmm, Eli?” The Tormentor tsked. Eli recoiled. His name was not safe with that man. He never heard it without being reminded that he had no control over himself or his situation.His struggles against the metal restraints now resulted in a rather satisfying cacophony, but still only caused blood to drip down his arms and pool beneath his feet. The Tormentor approached, eyeing the damage Eli had done to himself with a sadistic leer that turned Eli’s stomach.“Blood is strength, you know.” The Tormentor shook his head in mock-sorrow. “What a pity that you seem to hold it in such low regard.”A feral growl resonated in Eli’s chest, and he punched his head up from the stretcher to glare into the Tormentor’s eyes. “I’m going to kill you.I’m going to make sure everyone knows what you’ve done here, and then,” he paused to ensure the Tormenter was looking at him, “I’m going to kill you.”The Tormentor cocked an eyebrow and raised a recording device to chin level. “0817, subject is displaying the symptoms of aggression that have heretofore been associated with memory recollection. Has threatened death. Again.” He clicked off the recording device and slipped it into the pocket of his scrubs.“‘What I’ve done here,’ hmm?” He leaned down until his face almost touched Eli’s. “What I’ve done here is what you signed up for, soldier.Nothing more, nothing less.” He straightened with a sneer and turned toward the door.One of the two guards on the other side of the see-through barrier keyed a code into the door, and the hiss of released pressure and a grinding of gears announced that the door was unlocked. The Tormentor paused with his hand on the handle and turned to announce over hisshoulder, “Number 140 begins in four hours. Perhaps you should use this time to gather your strength instead of waste it.” He twisted the handle and left the room.Four hours.In just four hours they were going to conduct their one hundred fortieth experiment.Number 14: gunshot wound to the chest. The cold feel of steel pushed against his sternum. The force of the bullet driving his body into the unforgiving metal at his back. Gunpowder stinging his nostrils as his teeth chattered from the cold caused by his bleeding out.Number 58: asphyxiation by smothering. Excruciating burning in his lungs. The flailing of his limbs as he fought the restraints in a need to knock the oppressive hand from his mouth and nose. Stars dotting his vision as his brain fought the lack of oxygen.His heart rate sped up to match his ragged breathing. Number 100: dismemberment. He couldn’t stifle the moan that memory dredged up, hearing in his mind the buzz of the bone saw, feeling the heat of whirring metal on flesh. His Tormentor had informed him that they had wanted to make the one hundredth “special.”He was panting like an animal now. Four hours. In four hours, they were going to kill him.For the one hundred fortieth time.
About the Author:Micah Persell, winner of the 2013 Virginia HOLT Award of Merit for her first novel Of Eternal Life, holds a bachelor's degree in English and a double master's degree in literature and English pedagogy. She is an avid reader of all types of literature, but has a soft spot for romance. She currently teaches high school English classes in Southern California. Her paranormal romance series, Operation: Middle of the Garden, and her "wild and wanton" editions of Austen's Emma and Persuasion are available now through Crimson Romance.
www.micahpersell.com
www.twitter.com/MicahPersell
www.facebook.com/MicahPersell
www.goodreads.com/MicahPersell
ReviewNicky Peacock Authorhttp://nickypeacockauthor.wordpress.com/
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Guest blogThe Word at My Fingertips http://ashjellison.blogspot.com
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August 10, 2014
Tempted by a Rogue Prince by Felicity Heaton
Tempted by a Rogue Prince, the third book in New York Times best-seller Felicity Heaton’s hot new paranormal romance series, Eternal Mates, is now available in ebook and paperback.
To celebrate the release, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY at her website.
Find out how to enter the Tempted by a Rogue Prince international giveaway (ends August 24th) and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website, where you can also download a 6 chapter sample of the novel: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/tempted-by-a-rogue-prince-paranormal-romance-novel.php
Felicity is hosting a Facebook release party for Tempted by a Rogue Prince on August 17th, so join her then for amazing giveaways, Q&A, teasers and more.
All the details at: https://www.facebook.com/events/532238736898993/
Tempted by a Rogue Prince and the Eternal Mates series is set in the same world as the Vampire Erotic Theatre series, so if you’re a fan of that series, you will love Eternal Mates. Throughout this series, you’ll have a chance to catch up with the cast of the Vampire Erotic Theatre series and learn more about their world. In Claimed by a Demon King, you’ll get to visit the theatre, and some of the favourite characters in the Vampire Erotic Theatre series.
Here’s more about Tempted by a Rogue Prince, including an excerpt from this paranormal romance novel.
Tempted by a Rogue Prince
Eternal Mates Romance Series
Book 3
Felicity Heaton
An elf prince on the verge of losing himself to the darkness, Vail is maddened by the forty-two centuries he was under the control of a witch and forced to war with his brother. Now, he roams Hell seeking an escape from his terrible past and the heads of all who bear magic. When demons of the Fifth Realm capture him, he sees a chance to end his existence, but when he wakes in a cell to a beautiful female, he finds not death but his only shot at salvation—his true fated mate.
Captured by the enemy of the Third Realm when the war ended, Rosalind has spent months in the cells of the Fifth Realm with her magic bound, forced to heal the new king’s demon warriors, and haunted by the lives she has taken. When she’s brought to heal an unconscious man, she discovers her only hope of escape has come in the form of her worst nightmare and the first part of a prediction that might spell her doom—a devastatingly handsome and dangerous dark elf prince.
Unwilling to fall under the control of anyone ever again, Vail must escape before the Fifth King can use him as a pawn in a deadly game of revenge, but he cannot leave without Rosalind, the woman who looks at him with dark desire in her stunning eyes and awakens a fierce hunger in his heart. A witch who drives him mad with need even as the darkness within whispers she will enslave him too.
Can Rosalind escape her fate as they embark on a journey fraught with danger and resist the temptation of her rogue elf prince? And can Vail overcome the memories that madden him in order to seize his chance for salvation and the heart of his fated female forever?
Tempted by a Rogue Prince is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/tempted-by-a-rogue-prince-paranormal-romance-novel.php
Tempted by a Rogue Prince – Excerpt
He growled so low that she only felt it as a rumble through her chest and then strained against his manacles, becoming so agitated that she feared he would hurt himself again. His face screwed up, his enormous fangs on display, and he threw his head back and roared as he arched off the dark stone slab.
“You need to calm down.” Rosalind reached for him.
She froze when his eyes snapped open.
Purple.
Her breathing accelerated.
She shook her head.
He couldn’t be.
He stared at her, vivid purple eyes flashing wildly as his lips peeled away from his fangs again. Fangs. Purple. Mother earth, she was going to hyperventilate.
His overlong black hair parted to reveal the pointed tips of his ears and she almost passed out.
Elf.
Rosalind shot backwards away from him. Pain erupted in her side, searing her ribs and stealing her breath together with him. Not a damn elf. He couldn’t be a bloody elf.
She shook her head and huddled into the corner, holding her knees and staring at him as he wrestled with his manacles.
Anything but an elf. Why couldn’t he be anything but an elf?
She went back seventy years, to a magical summer’s day when she had been having tea in the garden with her grandmother. It had all been so peaceful and perfect. Endless blue skies. Flowers in full bloom. Butterflies and bees going about their business. A perfect moment.
Until her grandmother had turned sombre, staring at her in silence and worrying her. Rosalind had asked her what was wrong and her grandmother had looked right into her eyes with ones that swirled like a silver storm and had spoken words that had changed her forever.
In Rosalind’s future would be an elven prince, and after meeting him, she would die.
When she had helped King Thorne with his war, she had specifically avoided seeing or meeting Prince Loren of the elves who had been assisting him too.
She warily eyed the elf in the cell with her. He didn’t bear the markings of a royal elf, ones she had learned about during her research into the species. He didn’t look much like a prince either. She tried to shake off her fear, and her rising panic with it. It was difficult. She had spent her whole life convincing herself that her grandmother had been having one of her strange episodes when she got her wires crossed and thought she was talking to someone else, and now she had the horrible feeling that it hadn’t been the case at all.
She had seen Rosalind’s future and had spelt it out for her.
And now Rosalind was locked in a cell with an elf.
She shook off the last clinging threads of her fear. She had met the elf Bleu without dying, and the fae history books only mentioned one elf prince. The one she had avoided. This male was not that prince. The prince had a calm aura. Not a violent one.
She blew out her breath and winced as her ribs protested.
The elf male stilled, his eyes locked on her. They were focused, but not right. He looked lost, a wild beast struggling to comprehend her and his surroundings. He drew in a deep breath.
He craned his neck, turning his head towards his right arm. What was he doing? Studying his restraints?
He sank his fangs into his forearm.
“Stop that.” Rosalind raced across the room to him and stopped short of grabbing his wrist to pull his arm free of his fangs.
He released his arm and blood bloomed there. His purple eyes grew wilder and black spots formed in them like inky blotches that began to spread as he stared at her.
He growled in a commanding tone, “Drink. Female.”
Rosalind’s stomach turned and she shook her head. He snarled in response to her refusal and struggled against the manacles again. Blood crept down his arm, stark red against his pale skin. He spoke in his language, his voice alternating between softness and hardness, between a whisper and a growl. The thick metal restraints cut into his wrists as he frantically fought them, spilling more blood. She couldn’t take it.
She grabbed his bare shoulders and used her weight to press down and restrain him, her body laying partially across his.
He stilled.
She breathed hard, every inch of her shaking, a heady mixture of fear, adrenaline, and relief sweeping through her. Mother earth, she hoped he didn’t bite her or attack her. She had placed herself within easy reach of his fangs. A stupid move, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. He had been hurting himself because of her refusal. He had been losing himself to whatever came over him at times when he was under duress.
“Female. Drink. Heal.”
Rosalind eyed the blood. He wanted to heal her? He was truly insane. Lacerations and wounds covered him from head to toe and he was worried not about himself but instead about her?
He urged her again, dark and commanding this time.
“Drink.”
The thought made her ill but she wanted to be strong so she could escape this nightmare and didn’t want him to hurt himself anymore because of her. If she could achieve one of those things, she would take his blood. Just a sip.
She knew all the fables about elf blood, including the one that said it could heal. She just wasn’t sure she believed it.
Only one way to find out whether it was true.
She bent her head to his arm, poked her tongue out and tried not to think about what she was doing, sure she would retch if she did. She licked the blood, following a line of it up his arm, trying to be as gentle as she could with him so she didn’t startle him.
He startled her instead.
He moaned and his hips undulated against her.
Rather than shocking her into moving away, the sound of pleasure emanating from his lips enticed her to move closer, emboldening her.
Rosalind wrapped her lips around the twin puncture marks his fangs had made and sucked, earning a dark hungry growl from him. He bucked his hips wildly, nudging against her, his actions driven by instinct rather than a conscious decision. She knew it to be true because she wanted to rock hers too, ached and burned low in her belly, possessed by a need to rub against him while she drank him down.
“Drink. Female,” he uttered, his voice a bare whisper. “Ki’ara.”
She instantly tore herself away from him. He called her by another female’s name?
Cold engulfed her, emptiness that left her emotions reeling, clashing violently as she struggled to comprehend what had just happened and fought her instinct to bash him across his thick skull.
She spat the remaining blood in her mouth on the floor, gaining a dark glare from her companion, one that she ignored as she went to work on him. She wasn’t gentle as she healed him. The bastard didn’t deserve gentle after calling her by another woman’s name. She would have told him to go to Hell, but since they were both already there, it hardly seemed worth the effort.
Besides, she couldn’t find her voice. Her throat felt thick, squeezed so tight that she could barely breathe, let alone speak.
He passed out at some point. She didn’t care enough to note when it happened, but was glad that he had left her alone in a way. She wanted to be alone.
The incubus in the cell opposite kindly remained quiet too, although he prowled his cramped quarters, his gaze constantly on her. She hated him too. She hated that he had witnessed the whole affair and could probably see the hurt on her face. She never had been good at hiding her feelings. She had never seen the point before now.
Now though, as she sat in a cell with an elf who had somehow managed to slip past her defences and get under her skin, she wished she knew how to lie and how to shield herself from others, concealing her emotions so they couldn’t be used against her.
Rosalind sank back onto her heels and let her breath out on a sigh. She was done with him and still had hours before moonrise. No punishment for her.
The male’s eyelids flickered and then opened.
He deserved punishment though.
Rosalind stood and towered over him with her hands on her hips. “Who’s Kiara?”
He frowned, a confused edge to his steel-blue eyes. Part of her was glad they were no longer purple. When he looked like this, she could fool herself into thinking he wasn’t an elf, and that she had hope of making it to her one hundred and first birthday.
“I have no ki’ara,” he muttered.
She loomed over him and gave him her best glare. “That wasn’t the case when you commanded me to drink from you.”
His expression sharpened, darkening by degrees. “What are you talking about? I did no such thing.”
She pointed a shaky finger at the marks on his arm. She wanted to see him try to deny they were his, because she wasn’t in possession of a pair of fangs.
“You made me drink and then you had the bloody audacity to call me by another’s name.” Her heart pounded wildly, beating so fast she felt sick.
She stormed to the cell door, grabbed the bars and rattled them with all of her strength, which was considerably more than it had been prior to drinking from the bastard elf. She mentally marked the fable about elf blood having a healing ability as true.
“Guards!” Rosalind hollered, unwilling to spend another second in his company. Heavy footsteps echoed along the corridor. She looked over her shoulder at the elf, her lip curling. “The demon king will be questioning you now, and I hope the bastard gives you what you bloody deserve.”
He stared blankly at her.
The guards opened the door. She huffed and strode out of it, pausing at the bars for long enough to cast him one last withering glare.
“Next time, you can damn well heal yourself.”
The elf blinked, shock written across every line of his handsome face.
Rosalind ignored the bolt of heat that went through her, turned her nose up and stomped along the corridor towards her cell, shaking like a leaf in a storm and unsure whether her jelly legs would give out before she reached her quarters.
There was one thing she was sure of though.
The next time she set eyes on that elf, he was going to find out that Hell had no furies that could match a witch scorned.
Tempted by a Rogue Prince is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback.
Find all the links, a fantastic 6 chapter downloadable sample of the book, and also how to enter the giveaway and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/tempted-by-a-rogue-prince-paranormal-romance-novel.php
Books in the Eternal Mates paranormal romance series:
Book 1: Kissed by a Dark PrinceBook 2: Claimed by a Demon KingBook 3: Tempted by a Rogue PrinceBook 4: Hunted by a Jaguar – coming in 2015
About Felicity Heaton:
Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Todayinternational best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you're a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.
If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.
If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:
Website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk
Blog: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/blog/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/felicityheaton
Twitter: http://twitter.com/felicityheaton
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/felicityheaton
To celebrate the release, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY at her website.
Find out how to enter the Tempted by a Rogue Prince international giveaway (ends August 24th) and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website, where you can also download a 6 chapter sample of the novel: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/tempted-by-a-rogue-prince-paranormal-romance-novel.php
Felicity is hosting a Facebook release party for Tempted by a Rogue Prince on August 17th, so join her then for amazing giveaways, Q&A, teasers and more.
All the details at: https://www.facebook.com/events/532238736898993/
Tempted by a Rogue Prince and the Eternal Mates series is set in the same world as the Vampire Erotic Theatre series, so if you’re a fan of that series, you will love Eternal Mates. Throughout this series, you’ll have a chance to catch up with the cast of the Vampire Erotic Theatre series and learn more about their world. In Claimed by a Demon King, you’ll get to visit the theatre, and some of the favourite characters in the Vampire Erotic Theatre series.
Here’s more about Tempted by a Rogue Prince, including an excerpt from this paranormal romance novel.
Tempted by a Rogue Prince
Eternal Mates Romance Series
Book 3
Felicity Heaton
An elf prince on the verge of losing himself to the darkness, Vail is maddened by the forty-two centuries he was under the control of a witch and forced to war with his brother. Now, he roams Hell seeking an escape from his terrible past and the heads of all who bear magic. When demons of the Fifth Realm capture him, he sees a chance to end his existence, but when he wakes in a cell to a beautiful female, he finds not death but his only shot at salvation—his true fated mate.
Captured by the enemy of the Third Realm when the war ended, Rosalind has spent months in the cells of the Fifth Realm with her magic bound, forced to heal the new king’s demon warriors, and haunted by the lives she has taken. When she’s brought to heal an unconscious man, she discovers her only hope of escape has come in the form of her worst nightmare and the first part of a prediction that might spell her doom—a devastatingly handsome and dangerous dark elf prince.
Unwilling to fall under the control of anyone ever again, Vail must escape before the Fifth King can use him as a pawn in a deadly game of revenge, but he cannot leave without Rosalind, the woman who looks at him with dark desire in her stunning eyes and awakens a fierce hunger in his heart. A witch who drives him mad with need even as the darkness within whispers she will enslave him too.
Can Rosalind escape her fate as they embark on a journey fraught with danger and resist the temptation of her rogue elf prince? And can Vail overcome the memories that madden him in order to seize his chance for salvation and the heart of his fated female forever?
Tempted by a Rogue Prince is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/tempted-by-a-rogue-prince-paranormal-romance-novel.php
Tempted by a Rogue Prince – Excerpt
He growled so low that she only felt it as a rumble through her chest and then strained against his manacles, becoming so agitated that she feared he would hurt himself again. His face screwed up, his enormous fangs on display, and he threw his head back and roared as he arched off the dark stone slab.
“You need to calm down.” Rosalind reached for him.
She froze when his eyes snapped open.
Purple.
Her breathing accelerated.
She shook her head.
He couldn’t be.
He stared at her, vivid purple eyes flashing wildly as his lips peeled away from his fangs again. Fangs. Purple. Mother earth, she was going to hyperventilate.
His overlong black hair parted to reveal the pointed tips of his ears and she almost passed out.
Elf.
Rosalind shot backwards away from him. Pain erupted in her side, searing her ribs and stealing her breath together with him. Not a damn elf. He couldn’t be a bloody elf.
She shook her head and huddled into the corner, holding her knees and staring at him as he wrestled with his manacles.
Anything but an elf. Why couldn’t he be anything but an elf?
She went back seventy years, to a magical summer’s day when she had been having tea in the garden with her grandmother. It had all been so peaceful and perfect. Endless blue skies. Flowers in full bloom. Butterflies and bees going about their business. A perfect moment.
Until her grandmother had turned sombre, staring at her in silence and worrying her. Rosalind had asked her what was wrong and her grandmother had looked right into her eyes with ones that swirled like a silver storm and had spoken words that had changed her forever.
In Rosalind’s future would be an elven prince, and after meeting him, she would die.
When she had helped King Thorne with his war, she had specifically avoided seeing or meeting Prince Loren of the elves who had been assisting him too.
She warily eyed the elf in the cell with her. He didn’t bear the markings of a royal elf, ones she had learned about during her research into the species. He didn’t look much like a prince either. She tried to shake off her fear, and her rising panic with it. It was difficult. She had spent her whole life convincing herself that her grandmother had been having one of her strange episodes when she got her wires crossed and thought she was talking to someone else, and now she had the horrible feeling that it hadn’t been the case at all.
She had seen Rosalind’s future and had spelt it out for her.
And now Rosalind was locked in a cell with an elf.
She shook off the last clinging threads of her fear. She had met the elf Bleu without dying, and the fae history books only mentioned one elf prince. The one she had avoided. This male was not that prince. The prince had a calm aura. Not a violent one.
She blew out her breath and winced as her ribs protested.
The elf male stilled, his eyes locked on her. They were focused, but not right. He looked lost, a wild beast struggling to comprehend her and his surroundings. He drew in a deep breath.
He craned his neck, turning his head towards his right arm. What was he doing? Studying his restraints?
He sank his fangs into his forearm.
“Stop that.” Rosalind raced across the room to him and stopped short of grabbing his wrist to pull his arm free of his fangs.
He released his arm and blood bloomed there. His purple eyes grew wilder and black spots formed in them like inky blotches that began to spread as he stared at her.
He growled in a commanding tone, “Drink. Female.”
Rosalind’s stomach turned and she shook her head. He snarled in response to her refusal and struggled against the manacles again. Blood crept down his arm, stark red against his pale skin. He spoke in his language, his voice alternating between softness and hardness, between a whisper and a growl. The thick metal restraints cut into his wrists as he frantically fought them, spilling more blood. She couldn’t take it.
She grabbed his bare shoulders and used her weight to press down and restrain him, her body laying partially across his.
He stilled.
She breathed hard, every inch of her shaking, a heady mixture of fear, adrenaline, and relief sweeping through her. Mother earth, she hoped he didn’t bite her or attack her. She had placed herself within easy reach of his fangs. A stupid move, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. He had been hurting himself because of her refusal. He had been losing himself to whatever came over him at times when he was under duress.
“Female. Drink. Heal.”
Rosalind eyed the blood. He wanted to heal her? He was truly insane. Lacerations and wounds covered him from head to toe and he was worried not about himself but instead about her?
He urged her again, dark and commanding this time.
“Drink.”
The thought made her ill but she wanted to be strong so she could escape this nightmare and didn’t want him to hurt himself anymore because of her. If she could achieve one of those things, she would take his blood. Just a sip.
She knew all the fables about elf blood, including the one that said it could heal. She just wasn’t sure she believed it.
Only one way to find out whether it was true.
She bent her head to his arm, poked her tongue out and tried not to think about what she was doing, sure she would retch if she did. She licked the blood, following a line of it up his arm, trying to be as gentle as she could with him so she didn’t startle him.
He startled her instead.
He moaned and his hips undulated against her.
Rather than shocking her into moving away, the sound of pleasure emanating from his lips enticed her to move closer, emboldening her.
Rosalind wrapped her lips around the twin puncture marks his fangs had made and sucked, earning a dark hungry growl from him. He bucked his hips wildly, nudging against her, his actions driven by instinct rather than a conscious decision. She knew it to be true because she wanted to rock hers too, ached and burned low in her belly, possessed by a need to rub against him while she drank him down.
“Drink. Female,” he uttered, his voice a bare whisper. “Ki’ara.”
She instantly tore herself away from him. He called her by another female’s name?
Cold engulfed her, emptiness that left her emotions reeling, clashing violently as she struggled to comprehend what had just happened and fought her instinct to bash him across his thick skull.
She spat the remaining blood in her mouth on the floor, gaining a dark glare from her companion, one that she ignored as she went to work on him. She wasn’t gentle as she healed him. The bastard didn’t deserve gentle after calling her by another woman’s name. She would have told him to go to Hell, but since they were both already there, it hardly seemed worth the effort.
Besides, she couldn’t find her voice. Her throat felt thick, squeezed so tight that she could barely breathe, let alone speak.
He passed out at some point. She didn’t care enough to note when it happened, but was glad that he had left her alone in a way. She wanted to be alone.
The incubus in the cell opposite kindly remained quiet too, although he prowled his cramped quarters, his gaze constantly on her. She hated him too. She hated that he had witnessed the whole affair and could probably see the hurt on her face. She never had been good at hiding her feelings. She had never seen the point before now.
Now though, as she sat in a cell with an elf who had somehow managed to slip past her defences and get under her skin, she wished she knew how to lie and how to shield herself from others, concealing her emotions so they couldn’t be used against her.
Rosalind sank back onto her heels and let her breath out on a sigh. She was done with him and still had hours before moonrise. No punishment for her.
The male’s eyelids flickered and then opened.
He deserved punishment though.
Rosalind stood and towered over him with her hands on her hips. “Who’s Kiara?”
He frowned, a confused edge to his steel-blue eyes. Part of her was glad they were no longer purple. When he looked like this, she could fool herself into thinking he wasn’t an elf, and that she had hope of making it to her one hundred and first birthday.
“I have no ki’ara,” he muttered.
She loomed over him and gave him her best glare. “That wasn’t the case when you commanded me to drink from you.”
His expression sharpened, darkening by degrees. “What are you talking about? I did no such thing.”
She pointed a shaky finger at the marks on his arm. She wanted to see him try to deny they were his, because she wasn’t in possession of a pair of fangs.
“You made me drink and then you had the bloody audacity to call me by another’s name.” Her heart pounded wildly, beating so fast she felt sick.
She stormed to the cell door, grabbed the bars and rattled them with all of her strength, which was considerably more than it had been prior to drinking from the bastard elf. She mentally marked the fable about elf blood having a healing ability as true.
“Guards!” Rosalind hollered, unwilling to spend another second in his company. Heavy footsteps echoed along the corridor. She looked over her shoulder at the elf, her lip curling. “The demon king will be questioning you now, and I hope the bastard gives you what you bloody deserve.”
He stared blankly at her.
The guards opened the door. She huffed and strode out of it, pausing at the bars for long enough to cast him one last withering glare.
“Next time, you can damn well heal yourself.”
The elf blinked, shock written across every line of his handsome face.
Rosalind ignored the bolt of heat that went through her, turned her nose up and stomped along the corridor towards her cell, shaking like a leaf in a storm and unsure whether her jelly legs would give out before she reached her quarters.
There was one thing she was sure of though.
The next time she set eyes on that elf, he was going to find out that Hell had no furies that could match a witch scorned.
Tempted by a Rogue Prince is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback.
Find all the links, a fantastic 6 chapter downloadable sample of the book, and also how to enter the giveaway and be in with a shot of winning a $75, $50 or $25 gift certificate at her website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/tempted-by-a-rogue-prince-paranormal-romance-novel.php
Books in the Eternal Mates paranormal romance series:
Book 1: Kissed by a Dark PrinceBook 2: Claimed by a Demon KingBook 3: Tempted by a Rogue PrinceBook 4: Hunted by a Jaguar – coming in 2015
About Felicity Heaton:
Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Todayinternational best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you're a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.
If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.
If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:
Website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk
Blog: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/blog/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/felicityheaton
Twitter: http://twitter.com/felicityheaton
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/felicityheaton
Kindle Freebie A Hot and Sinful Summer By Roxanne Rhoads
Free for Your Kindle August 7-10
A Hot and Sinful Summer
5 Tantalizing Tales of Sizzling Summer SeductionBy Roxanne Rhoads
Genre: sizzling erotica
Five sinfully seductive tales of scorching summer trysts grace the pages of this short story collection.
Something More Than Friends- a clandestine hookup in the front seat of a car is anything but casual as two friends simmer with emotion while hiding their secret affair from the rest of the world.
Sun Worship- The heat brings out carnal urges in Gina, urges she can't control as the hot summer sun beats down upon her bare skin. You won’t believe the naughty things she does to appease her needs...while her neighbor, Joe, secretly watches.
Lawn Service- Serena's loneliness and the relentless summer heat have her aching for something sinful. Her wishes are granted when Rob, a sexy lawn service technician, shows up to get her yard in shape for the annual 4th of July party.
A Hot and Sticky Summer Night- It’s a hot summer night and a young couple are plagued by boredom. They drive around looking for something fun to do. They end up making love in the woods... and it's anything but boring.
Not Another One Night Stand- Rebecca has been watching Damon at the nightclub for weeks. One night she finally works up the courage to approach him...and he goes home with her. Will it be just a one night stand or could it be something more?
Warning: heat level is hot and explicit
A Hot and Sinful Summer
5 Tantalizing Tales of Sizzling Summer SeductionBy Roxanne RhoadsGenre: sizzling erotica
Five sinfully seductive tales of scorching summer trysts grace the pages of this short story collection.
Something More Than Friends- a clandestine hookup in the front seat of a car is anything but casual as two friends simmer with emotion while hiding their secret affair from the rest of the world.
Sun Worship- The heat brings out carnal urges in Gina, urges she can't control as the hot summer sun beats down upon her bare skin. You won’t believe the naughty things she does to appease her needs...while her neighbor, Joe, secretly watches.
Lawn Service- Serena's loneliness and the relentless summer heat have her aching for something sinful. Her wishes are granted when Rob, a sexy lawn service technician, shows up to get her yard in shape for the annual 4th of July party.
A Hot and Sticky Summer Night- It’s a hot summer night and a young couple are plagued by boredom. They drive around looking for something fun to do. They end up making love in the woods... and it's anything but boring.
Not Another One Night Stand- Rebecca has been watching Damon at the nightclub for weeks. One night she finally works up the courage to approach him...and he goes home with her. Will it be just a one night stand or could it be something more?
Warning: heat level is hot and explicit
August 9, 2014
Tortured Souls by Kimber Leigh Wheaton
Kacie Ramsey’s Top Ten Favorite Things
1) Logan – My boyfriend who has been my rock through the scariest ordeal of my life. He has saved me more times than I can count and always stood by my side. We were friends for two years, but in the month we’ve been together, I’ve learned so much more about him. I really like him… a lot…
2) My Friends & Family– When life gets turned upside down, you discover who your real friends are. The ones that stick with you through the bad times are keepers. I love the new friends I’ve made in the Orion Circle, but Celia will always be my BFF. We’ve been friends for years, through the good, bad, and worse. Dad and my brother, Gavin, are also keepers. You don’t get to choose your family, and I’m glad I ended up with them. My mother, not so much…
3) The Orion Circle – I struggled alone with my abilities for years. In the month that I’ve been part of the Circle, my life has taken a drastic turn. It feels so good to have people who understand the toll my psychic powers can have on my life. I finally have people to talk to.
4) Kodiak – He’s my dog—a full-size Goldendoodle who looks more like a sheep or a polar bear than a dog. He runs with me just about every day and sleeps with me at night.
5) Musical Theater – I love the theater, love being on stage, love being in the audience. Musical theater is perfect because I love to sing. When I’m on stage I feel alive.
6) Animals– I have a soft spot for animals of all kinds, even snakes and other creepy crawlies. I was shocked when I discovered my familiars. But as a witch, I guess I was destined to have them.
7) Cars – I love cars. My dream car is a McLaren 650s Spider. But I have to admit I also love Logan’s Mustang Shelby GT500. Though I haven’t broached the subject of cars with Dad yet, I turn sixteen in six months.
8) Chocolate – Cake, ice cream, cookies—doesn’t matter as long as it’s chocolate. My favorite is chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. Logan brings me a chocolate cupcake from a local bakery once in a while. It tastes that much sweeter since it’s from him.
9) Video Games – I used to play a lot of RPG games, but lately I’ve been into the multiplayer variety. My preference is racing or fighting games.
10) Running – I’m on the cross country and track teams at school. There’s something exhilarating about running. My dad once said I do it to try to run from my problems, but it actually helps me confront them and deal with them.
Tortured SoulsThe Orion Circle #1Kimber Leigh WheatonYA paranormal romanceJuly 14, 2014Sea Dragon Press
Amazon Goodreads
Sometimes Rest in Peace isn't an option.
Kacie Ramsey sees ghosts—and it's ruining her life. Her mother left, her father blames her, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't keep the ghosts away. Now a new power has emerged. Nightly visions of grisly murders and a relentless predator draw her to the brink of insanity.
When the phantom appears at a party, Kacie's longtime crush, Logan, saves her. He invites her to join the Orion Circle, a group of supernatural hunters with chapters in schools all over the country. Through the Circle, Kacie learns to embrace her spiritual powers, and for the first time in her life she feels in control rather than a victim.
But the Foxblood Demon will not give up so easily. A demented serial killer in life who trapped the souls of the thirteen children he murdered, imprisoning them within the walls of his mansion. Now in death, he plots his return while drawing power from the pure souls of the children. He recognizes something in Kacie he's never seen before—a medium powerful enough to provide a vessel for his tainted soul.
Kacie can't ignore the tortured souls of the children crying out to her every night. With Logan at her side, she will fight the Foxblood Demon. But can they banish this powerful phantom, or will Kacie lose not only her body, but her eternal soul to the monster.
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Excerpt #3
Horrifying broken pictures shatter the tranquility of my once pleasant dream. Though I scream in my mind to wake up, I know I won’t be able to. I’m captive in my own head while the gritty scenes play out in stark black and white, flickering like an old silent movie. I run from the phantom chasing me. When I slip in a dark gray puddle, my body collides with the ground, my hands slapping into the viscous liquid. Blood. The sharp, pungent odor assaults my nose, telling me this is no ordinary dream.I stare into the sightless eyes of a teenage girl sprawled across the grass like a broken, discarded doll. Her legs bend beneath her at impossible angles, the bone poking through the shin of one leg. Blood seeps from her shattered skull, flowing to the grass in rivulets to pool around her lifeless body. As I try to crawl away from the broken girl, I sense the approach of a monster, the man responsible for this gruesome display. With a tiny whimper I surge to my feet. He’s on me in a flash, and I scream a wordless keening cry before my airway is forced closed. My sanity begins to shatter then everything goes mercifully black…Somehow I manage to tear myself from the gut-wrenching dream. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. Blood pours into my mouth, and I gag on the metallic taste. As my heartbeat begins to return to a normal rhythm, I untangle my body from the sheets holding me captive on the floor of my room. Lurching to my feet, I try to comfort my mind, ease my quaking nerves. This is the fifth night in a row I’ve had this dream. It’s always the same, always in black and white, gritty, the images jerky.I haven’t seen the attacker, the monster responsible for the grisly murder. The faceless phantom hides in the darkest recesses of my mind. He chases me for several minutes in the dream, but I never turn to face him. Deep down I know if I face this dream monster, something awful will happen.
Leaving the sheets on the floor, I move back to sit on my bed, staring into the room, but only seeing the dream. Vision, my mind insists—it was a vision not a dream.
About the AuthorKimber Leigh Wheaton is a bestselling YA/NA author with a soft spot for sweet romance. She is married to her soul mate, has a teenage son, and shares her home with three dogs, four cats, and lots of dragons. No, she doesn’t live on a farm, she just loves animals. Kimber Leigh is addicted to romance, videogames, superheroes, villains, and chocolate—not necessarily in that order. (If she has to choose, she’ll take a chocolate covered superhero!) She currently lives in San Antonio, TX but has been somewhat a rolling stone in life, having resided in several different cities and states.
http://www.kimberleighwheaton.com
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August 8, 2014
Guest Blog and Giveaway The Magick of Dark Root by April Aasheim
Ten Fun Facts About Eve Maddock by April Aasheim
For the blog tour, I thought it would be a lot of fun to talk about the four sisters that comprise The Daughters of Dark Root: Maggie, Merry, Ruth Anne, and Eve. On today’s stop I will focus on the youngest of the four women: Eve Maddock. In The Witches of Dark Root Eve is Maggie’s (the protagonist) rival. In The Magick of Dark Root, Maggie and Eve’s relationship transcends old wounds and the two women become allies and partners in crime.
Eve is a lot of fun to write. She is candid, sexy, and a bit of a snob. She says whatever is on her mind without fear of repercussions. But for all her bravado, Eve is terribly guarded.Here are a few facts about Eve. Enjoy!
Eve was born on New Year’s Eve, exactly one week after her older sister Merry’s birthday (born on Christmas Eve). Their mother named both the girls accordingly.Eve runs her mother’s old business in the town of Dark Root: Miss Sasha’s Magick Shoppe. Although the shop still sells the staples: herbs, candles, and divining tools, Eve has taken great pride in modernizing it with the addition of items like: henna tattoos, hookahs, and body piercing items. Some say the shop is even better under Eve’s care than it was in Miss Sasha’s day.Eve left home at 18 to start a life in New York as an actress. Unfortunately, the closest she ever came to Broadway was working as an understudy in the off-Broadway production of The Musical History of Cheese. While Eve enjoys ‘working the craft,’ she also has a magical ability that most people can’t see (but can feel): sex appeal. This has been a source of conflict between her and her sister Maggie their entire life.Eve’s favorite workout: Half a Pilates video followed by two glasses of wine.In the eighth grade Eve ‘dated’ her science teacher. When the scandal came out the town’s beloved teacher resigned. To this day everyone still blames Eve’s for his departure.Eve fell in love with Paul when she was working as a waitress at Hooters. He was the only man who didn’t’ comment on her short shorts or her tight t-shirt. It perplexed her at first as she couldn’t figure out why he was immune to her obvious charms. As she did her best to entice him and Paul continued to treat her as nothing more than a friend, Eve’s intrigue turned to respect, something she never thought she’d have for a member of the opposite sex. Later, respect became love. Eve’s favorite vacation destinations: Anywhere she can be properly spoiled. A spa inside a castle on a tropical island would do nicely, but only if she can get the internet.Eve’s favorite book: Peyton Place.Eve’s favorite TV shows: Dating games and shows about ‘rich women who don’t have jobs.’Eve fell in love with Paul when she was working as a waitress at Hooters. He was the only man who didn’t’ comment on her short shorts or her tight t-shirt. It perplexed her at first as she couldn’t figure out why he was immune to her obvious charms. As she did her best to entice him and Paul continued to treat her as nothing more than a friend, Eve’s intrigue turned to respect, something she never thought she’d have for a member of the opposite sex. Later, respect became love.
The Magick of Dark RootDaughters of Dark RootBook TwoApril AasheimGenre: Paranormal, Women’s Fiction
Publisher: Dark Root Press
Date of Publication: June 3, 2014
ISBN: 1499611951ASIN: B00KRQ2KAK
Number of pages: 330 pagesWord Count: 88,000
Cover Artist: AnneMarie Buhl and Greg Jensen
Book Description:
“There are rules that must be followed, Maggie.”
“Even in witchcraft?”
“Especially in witchcraft. What someone puts into the world comes back to them.”
“You mean karma?”
“Like karma, yes. But for a witch it comes back threefold. Never forget that.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Who said life was fair?”
In the second installment of The Daughters of Dark Root series, Maggie Maddock and her sisters are back, training under their coven-leading mother Miss Sasha Shantay to take over as the new leaders of The Council. But life isn’t as smooth as Maggie had hoped it would be. Harvest Home’s taxes have come due, and her mother’s illness has returned, stronger than ever.
Desperate, Maggie and Eve devise a scheme to make money through witchcraft.
And that’s when things go terribly wrong.
Available at Amazon
Excerpt:
There are nights when you question just about everything: who you are, where you've come from, what your purpose is, how you got to your current place in life.And then there are nights when you just accept things.Nights when you stand beneath a silver moon, digging a shallow grave for a man you murdered. A man who probably had a wife and children, a mother and a job. A man who probably wouldn't have tried to molest your kid sister, if she hadn't been wearing a perfume enchanted to entice men in the first place.These are the nights you try not to think.Because if you think––about the corpse sitting in the car a dozen feet away, about your inability to determine wrong from right, about the fact that your mother was right about you after all, that you walk the line, just like your father––you just might go mad.And I couldn't go mad.Anyway, it was Thanksgiving, officially, and I wasn't going to let this little incident ruin the holidays.“No!” I said aloud as I plunged my shovel into the earth and tossed out another spade full of dirt. “I’m going to keep it together!”“Maggie, you okay?” Merry stopped digging and faced me, her eyes concerned. In this lighting, as her gold hair framed her sweet face, she looked more angelic than ever. “You can take a break, if you need to. We’ll be okay.”“Me? I’m fine, Merry. Thanks for asking.”I caught my sisters shooting each other knowing looks, looks that said I wasn’t all right, that in fact I had lost my marbles.“I’m fine,” I repeated emphatically, tossing out an extra-large helping of dirt and wondering how much deeper we would need to dig.The spell said to encase the subject in a box, then bury him under the light of a waning moon, but it didn't specify how deep the grave needed to be. An unhelpful omission. Since the “subject” would eventually dig his way out of that grave, clawing his way through the box and layers of muck, I conjectured we shouldn't dig it too deeply.The experience would be traumatic enough for the poor guy as it was.Fortunately for us, however, the timing of his death couldn't have been better, being a waning moon and all. If I’ve learned anything from this ordeal, it’s that if you are going to commit murder, and have any intention of bringing the deceased back to life, always plan it around the correct moon cycle.Lucky break for Maggie!“I think,” I said, continuing to dig. “That this might be a lucrative business. Bringing people back from the dead. If it works out, we might start charging for it. Gotta bring in more money than that stupid magick store does.”“Maggie, stop,” Eve said, wiping her forehead with cashmere gloves she would never wear again.“I’m just saying…why not? We can call it Bodies R Us. They’re not dead unless we say they’re dead.” I grinned at Ruth Anne, sure she’d appreciate my joke.She shook her head and continued digging.“What?” I asked, throwing my shovel onto the ground. “Are we too good for death jokes now?”Merry pressed her lips together. “Honey, you’ve had a terrible shock and now it’s finally setting in. Go sit on the porch steps and we’ll finish this. We’ll call you when it’s done.”“No!” I screamed, surprising myself with the shrillness of my voice. I tore at the air with both hands, as if being assaulted by an invisible man, tears stinging my eyes. “I won’t sit by while my sisters bury the man I…”I choked, unable to finish the sentence. I lifted my trembling chin. “Neither hell nor jail is good enough for me.”Someone’s arms wrap around me. I recognized the vanilla and lavender scent as Merry’s. I hyperventilated in her arms as she held me, cooing me to quiet.“It’s okay, honey. It will be okay.”How could I explain to her that it wouldn't be okay? Nothing might ever be okay again. Even if we did manage to raise him, I had the deathtouch, just like my father. And there was no coming back from that.“What if we can’t do it, Merry?” I sniffed, wiping my nose on her shoulder as I stared at the Christmas tree in the front yard, the box that would soon be a coffin.“We will,” she said, brushing the hair from my face. “You’ll see.”“I think this is deep enough,” Ruth Anne announced, tossing her shovel onto the ground. “We’d better hurry.”I let out one final sob of self-pity and nodded.Merry grabbed my hand and we converged on the car.“I’m sorry,” I said to the man in the passenger seat.He sat buckled in, staring straight ahead. I removed his seat belt, noticing the stiffness of his body we hefted him from the car. You hear that the dead are cold, but you can never imagine how cold. It’s not a freezer type of cold or a snow type of cold. It’s an empty chill, like floating in deep space. A coldness without hope.“We don’t have much time,” I said as we lowered him into the box.He didn’t quite fit and we pushed on arms and legs, stuffing him inside like an unwilling Jack-in-the box.Merry wiped the salve she had concocted across his face and neck. It smelled horrible, like ashes and mold. Next, she reached into her pocket and produced Mother’s wand.“Once he’s completely buried, we use this,” she said.“Paul says that in the old days, people were often buried alive,” Eve said, fighting back a shiver. “He said gravediggers found coffins with scratch marks on the inside.”“Maybe they weren't buried alive,” I suggested. “Maybe they were guinea pigs in spells like this one.”“Maggie, you’re not funny.”“I know.”At last, it was done. The man who’d been buying us drinks and pawing at my sister only a few hours ago was now four feet underground in my front yard. I wanted to stick a cross in the earth, or a stone, something to mark this place.But I couldn't think like that. I had to believe he was just sleeping and would wake up shortly, and we’d all go back to our normal lives.Merry lifted the wand. The emerald-colored gem shone so dim, it faded into the night. The wand was dying, too.“We could use this on Mama,” Merry said, her voice almost a whisper.There was a cold silence that passed between us. If the wand had one charge left, did we waste it on a stranger? Or did we try and save the woman we loved, who hovered very near death herself in the bedroom upstairs? It could buy her time.Our heads turned in unison towards her window.“No,” I said, resolutely. “There’s still hope for Mother, but there’s no hope for this guy. We have to use it on him.”Merry nodded and we gathered around the grave. She lifted her wrist, ready to cast the wand, but I stopped her.“Give it to me, Merry. I have to be the one.”“But Maggie,” Merry protested. I knew what she was thinking. She had the gift of healing, while I had the curse of…She handed it over.My hand shook as I took it. Merry might have the right kind of magick, but my powers were greater, and I had Mother’s Circle.My sisters held hands, chanting words from Mother’s scroll, indecipherable gibberish that produced an ethereal sound when spoken together, like angels falling from heaven.I raised the wand, catching site of a raven that roosted between the spokes of the old garden gate, intently watching me.It was now or never.The price of the deathtouch had to be paid.
About the Author:April Aasheim considers herself an ‘expert’ in the paranormal. Her mother dabbled in the occult and her father was a martial artist who believed that true power came from an unseen energy that you could tap into.
As a child, April claims to have lived in a haunted house and to have been visited by relatives who had passed on. To combat her frightening experiences, April spent her youth studying world religion including Christianity, Islam, and Buddhism. Later, April branched out in her studies with a focus on psychology, anthropology, sociology, and the paranormal.
April is married with children and currently resides in Portland, Oregon where she spends her days writing, watching movies, and attending Zumba classes at her local gym.
The Magick of Dark Root is the second in The Daughters of Dark Root series, and her third novel.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomuser_aprilaasheim
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AprilAasheimWriter
Blog: http://aprilaasheim.blogspot.com
Twitter: @aprilaasheim
Web: http://www.aprilaasheimwriter.com/
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Guest Blog and Giveaway: Seraphina The Awakening by Sheena Hutchinson
For those of you that don’t know me, my name is Sheena Hutchinson. I recently self published my first book, Seraphina: The Awakening that is currently available on Amazon. It’s been eight long months, but it was worth every hour of sleep lost and every hair I pulled out when the words wouldn’t come. There are however two questions I get asked by fans all the time: How do you come up with the story or the inspiration to write a book? and Why did you self publish instead of the traditional way?
Not to get all Twilight on you guys, but Seraphina’s story came to me in a dream. I had been going through a break up and dove into reading again. I was deep into the Hush Hush Series by Becca Fitzpatrick and I was sort of obsessed with the idea of him being her Guardian Angel in the second book. I went to bed that night and saw it all before my very eyes, a Guardian Angel falling head over heels for his subject, the accident, and him making the hardest decision of his life. The next scene I pictured was Sera’s accident and her somehow shielding herself with a power she never knew she possessed. By the time my eyes flew open the next day, everyone close to me was sick of hearing about my dream. Desperate for an escape from my own feelings I resolved to put all my effort into writing it all down on paper. One scene led to another then another until I began passing it around from friend to friend for advice and one year later I finally had a complete book.
Now, why did I choose to self publish? Honestly, the thought of rejection scared the living daylights out of me! I knew I wasn’t up to par with the writing styles of people who have been writing all their life. I knew my manuscript would just sit on someone’s desk for months before I got that inevitable rejection letter in the mail. Instead, the idea of self-publishing really appealed to me. I’d put it out there on my own terms, I can change it anytime I wanted, and if it didn’t go anywhere it was no big loss. The one thing I wasn’t expecting is the amount of promotion and marketing I’d have to do completely solo. If I had to go back and do it all over again, I think I’d do my research way before I hit ‘publish.’ I’d find out about blog tours, street teams, conventions, marketing, and networking with other authors and bloggers. One thing that did save me was the fact that I signed up for Amazon’s KDP Select. It’s Amazon’s program that makes your book available in the Amazon Lending Library so their Prime Members can borrow it for free. I’ve heard this doesn’t always work for everyone, but I’ve personally had a lot of success with it.
In the end, I wouldn’t change my experience for the world. I have found out more about myself as well as the world of publishing than I ever would have thought possible. I plan on writing more books and everything I’ve learned will be a tool for my future success.
Seraphina: The AwakeningSeraphina SeriesBook OneSheena Hutchinson
Genre: Paranormal Romance
ASIN: B00HL5PQYM
Number of pages: 150 in e-book formatWord Count: 60,000
Cover Artist: Andrea GarciaCover Model: Sheena Hutchinson
Book Description:
For as long as she can remember, Seraphina Cross has experienced these visions that made her feel like there was more to life. It wasn’t until one moment, one accident that her life changed forever. She awakens the next day a new person in more ways than one. With no recollection of past night’s events, she’s forced to adapt to certain sensations she is experiencing all while trying to piece together what exactly happened to her that fateful night.
Her strange, hectic life doesn’t seem to make sense until she meets a handsome stranger. Only then does the puzzle finally piece itself together. What she doesn’t expect is the new powers she has developed attracting all kinds of unwanted attention.
Thrown into a world she never truly believed existed she is forced to come to grips with who she is becoming while staying out of trouble long enough to figure out what needs to be done to fulfill her destiny.
Free at Amazon August 4-8
Available at Amazon and Amazon UK
Excerpt 2:
Driving home I try to focus on the road, but my mind won’t seem to cooperate. Tears begin to well up in my eyes as I’m driving down the lonely, deserted street. Staring out the windshield through my tears I can’t help but think the scenery is just how I feel inside, alone and dead. It’s just a normal December night outside, but I can feel it coming for me. The darkness and depression creeping up on me like a monster in the night.
I pull up to my house, put my car in park, and pause for a second. I sit with my hands still on my steering wheel staring down the empty dead-end street, not hearing the radio blasting, breathing in the darkness, and finally accepting the depression that’s coming. Tears are streaming down my face now, smearing the mascara I was wearing. Resting my head on the steering wheel, I allow the tears to stream down my pale cheeks. I can’t get control of all the emotions swirling up inside of me, it seems like all I can do is release them.
My mind wanders from the freakiness of my date, to my dreams, to the psychic encounter, to the weird feelings I’ve been having and back again. I can’t help but feel like this world will never be enough. I will never be truly whole because part of me lives in another realm.
I will never be truly content with this life, I have this overwhelming feeling that I’m waiting for something, something else, something… more.
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About the Author:Sheena is a born and raised New Yorker, even her writing can’t hide her hard sarcasm. Like some she went to college blindly and spend her early years trying to decide which path to take, dabbling in various jobs and career ventures, such as modeling, clinical psychology, retail, and medical billing. All before destiny lead her to writing again. She constantly strives to be a positive role model and write stories that empower and inspire.
Sheena always roots for the underdog, believes in love at first sight, and that everyone should have their happily ever after. While God is currently writing her love story she continues to put all her time into her writing as she is constantly getting new inspiration.
For more on Sheena and her books visit her website www.SheenaHutchinson.com
Twitter: @Sheena_Hutch
www.Facebook.com/TheSeraphinaSeries
www.Goodreads.com/SheenaHutch
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August 7, 2014
Forget Me Not by Shawn Martin
Do You Believe In Coincidence?byShawn Martin
So, do you? Have you ever found yourself thinking about an old friend, then an hour later she gives you a call? And you say, "What a coincidence!" But is it really?
Webster defines coincidence as: a situation in which events happen at the same time in a way that is not planned or expected. I prefer to look at it like this: we are smart enough to realize two or more events are tied together, but we aren't quite smart enough to figure out what brought them crashing together.
If you find yourself surrendering your imagination to academia, you're told that what brings those events crashing together is either a scientific correlation or the randomness of the universe. But there is a third option. Maybe, just maybe, there is a supernatural entity at work.
As a writer of paranormal fiction, I found the supernatural an excellent companion to penning a good story. When two events collide at the beginning a story, a question looms in the mind of the reader. What brought them together? It's up to you, the writer, to either gently or slowly or quickly or shockingly spill the answer onto the pages. The answer needs to be plausible, yet not completely predictable. Sure, your coincidence can have elements of providence and can even be serendipitous. But above all when it comes to the paranormal, the answer needs to contain elements of the supernatural.
Your coincidence should never be explained with science, where the results could be replicated in a laboratory. And your coincidence should never be random. Remember, it's fiction. It's your imagination. Let the supernatural, whether ghosts or angels, play in your mind and find their way out of your pen and onto paper. It ties a story together and keeps the reader reading.
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Forget Me NotShadowflesh Series Book 2Shawn MartinGenre: Young Adult Paranormal
Publisher: Vinspire Publishing
Date of Publication: March 31, 2014
ISBN: 0989063232ASIN: B00IKZTVUC
Number of pages: 308Word Count: 73,500
Cover Artist: Elaina Lee
Book Description:
Fortune has smiled on seventeen year old Aileen McCormick ever since Addison came back into her life, giving her the love she has so desperately longed for. That is, until a mysterious man slithers across her path and slips a spellbinding cameo around her neck. The cameo holds more than just the image of an enchantress who hungers for souls. It possesses a curse that strangles away every memory Aileen has of Addison.
Addison, a three hundred year old fugitive from the netherworld, recognizes the wretched woman inside the cameo and the curse she has cast on his unsuspecting love. The enchanted cameo has but one purpose: to torment Aileen with hints of love she can no longer recall.
Aileen cannot escape the deadly cameo. She runs for her life with the curse only a breath away. If she truly wants her memory back, the enchantress is all too willing to restore it. It will cost her, though. Cost her everything.
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Excerpt FromChapter 1
I couldn’t remember the last time I had been afraid of the dark. It seemed like a lifetime ago, when shadows and demons consumed me at night, when the end of the world was but a breath away. That was all before I met Addison.From the very moment I literally fell into his arms, I had fallen hopelessly in love with him. Hopelessly, carelessly, eternally in love with him. And he loved me back.Addison Wake had become my entire life, my reason for living. I breathed in his love and exhaled his name. My heart beat a passionate rhythm to which only he marched. He danced into my dreams, stealing me away into the stars at the witching hour. Since he had come back to me we had been inseparable.The last amber leaves of autumn waved goodbye to the worst and best year of my life. The year I lost my home, my friends, everything I thought I needed to live. The year I discovered a grandmother I hardly knew. The year I found new friends. The year I fell in love.The calendar gloated that Christmas was less than a month away, but who cared? I looked forward to the first day of winter. Or rather the longest night of the year. Ever since finding out Santa was just a figment of my parents’ imagination, I didn’t have much use for the yuletide. But I had always loved that long and wonderful night. Addison had already set a date for that night, promising to take me to an air show in the day and onto the rooftop at night to teach me the constellations.It was kind of embarrassing, but I had never really learned the stars. Sure, I could spot the Big Dipper and hardly ever mistook the moon for a comet. But that was the extent of my celestial knowledge. Most of my time had been spent looking down rather than up, and I regretted that. Just one more regret in the long list I had been working on in my seventeen years. But all that was changing, and Addison was helping me one regret at a time.To say I appreciated everything he had done for me would be an understatement. He taught me how to drive a stick. He trusted me with his deepest, darkest secrets. He saved my life. He fell in love with me, maybe even more than I had fallen in love with him. If that was possible.Mere words could do no justice for how I felt about Addison. But that didn’t stop me from trying to tell him, or show him. I poured my heart out into haiku almost daily. I swirled his initials into the thighs of my worn jeans in three colors of permanent ink. I learned to say “I love you” in twenty-one languages.My most recent declaration of love cost me an entire paycheck. I purchased a star. Not the Hollywood kind starlets walked across in stilettos. An actual star, in outer space, where no man has boldly gone before.Bonnie Fay and Nicola had completely different reactions when I confessed what I had done. Bonnie Fay wrinkled her nose and squinted at me, forcing the kind of smile that told me I was lame. “Sounds kinda hokey,” she had said in her southern drawl. “Sugar, if you’re gonna tease him with something he can’t have, don’t let it be a star.”Nicola, the polar opposite to everything calm and conforming, had a completely different reaction. She ached a sigh, crossed her hands over her heart, and fell backwards onto my bed. “That is just so…” She took a breath and clicked the heals of her combat boots. I prayed she’d say something other than “hokey.” “So… romantic.” Then she wiped away a hint of her sentimentality before it had the chance to smear her dark eye make-up. She had spent too long applying deadly Goth to have it ruined by a girly tear.Yes, I bought my boyfriend a star. It was a little star – I didn’t make that much money – cleverly hidden in the Scorpius constellation. The website informed me the little speck could be seen near the horizon using a telescope the size of a small skyscraper. But the heavenly body, now and forever known as “Addison Wake,” was indeed there. It was my gift to him, a little piece of eternity that would smile down upon us every night until the stars all went out.Okay, it was a little hokey.But what could I have given to Addison Wake? He wasn’t exactly like the other boys at Redcliff High. To be perfectly clear, he was nothing at all like anyone on this mortal world. Addison was a phantom, a fugitive from the netherworld, casually walking among the living as shadowflesh. He willed his dark, mysterious ether into the tall, lean embodiment of perfection. An immortal soul, yet vulnerable shadowflesh.And no, I didn’t need my head examined… or maybe I did.Addison was completely wrong for me, completely wrong for any living, breathing girl who had a fondness for staying alive. The more I knew we shouldn’t be together, the more I was drawn to him. Like a knot, the harder a person tried to pull it apart the tighter it got.To show my love for Addison, I had to think of something as unique, something as ageless as he. Haiku hadn’t cut it. And it wasn’t like I could burn him a CD of my favorite music and expect it to mean anything in a year, or a decade, or a century. But a star, it would be forever.And when that long and wonderful night finally came and Addison showed me the constellations, I would surprise him with his star, pointing to the part of the sky where the tiny speck was supposed to be.I had no idea how he would react. Maybe he’d shrug or look at me as if I had lost my mind. Or maybe he’d arch one eyebrow higher than the other over his smoky blue eyes and kiss me. It would be cold, December nights get that way, so he would undoubtedly drape his leather flight jacket over my shoulders and wrap me in his strong arms, and I would kiss him back like I had never kissed him before, like I would never kiss him again. And perhaps that would be the night. The night.I no longer feared the darkness. As a matter of fact, I looked forward it. The longest, darkest night of the year waited for me, and that should have been my happily ever after. But fate can be a funny, cruel thing.
About the Author:Shawn Martin calls Springfield, Missouri, home. After graduating from Missouri State University with majors in Economics and Political Science, he bounced around the Midwest only to end up right where he started.
His day (and night) job is being a firefighter. Aside from rescuing cats in trees and removing burnt pot roasts from ovens, he spends his time finding the hardest way to do the simplest of things. The rest of his time is spent weaving words into another installment in the Shadowflesh Series. Visit www.shadowflesh.com for a look into the author and his work.
web: www.shadowflesh.com
twitter: @martiniaff152
goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20871119-forget-me-not
facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shadowflesh
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Release Day Blitz Sleeping Beauty and the Demon by Marina Myles
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Sleeping Beauty and the DemonThe Cursed PrincesBook 4Marina MylesGenre: Historical/paranormal romance
Publisher: eKensington
Date of Publication: August 7, 2014
ISBN: 9781601832818ASIN:B00IUPCLWW
Word Count: 75,000
Book Description:
Sleight Of Hand
Dragomir Starkov poses as an illusionist, a showman performing tricks, his Romanian accent and dark good looks all just a part of the drama. That’s how Rose Carlisle first sees him. She’s a respectable girl—she wouldn’t accept witchy birthday gifts from a demon.
But the hustle and bustle of 1912 New York City offers plenty of ways to slip around the strict old rules of propriety. A good thing, too, because once Rose meets Drago, she no longer cares about being respectable.
But the only illusion in Drago’s act is that his magic is smoke and mirrors. Every word of power he speaks is as real as Rose before him, in thrall to his lust and adoration. Drago knows about Rose’s curse, that she will die on her next birthday.
But the shadowy threat that stalks her hasn’t won her yet. If she can trust him, perhaps he can save her too…
Available at Amazon BN Kobo iTunes Google Play Books
CHAPTER ONE
New York City1912
A torrential downpour bounced off the sloping roof of the Sunshine Theater. Inside the auditorium, an eager audience sat riveted by Dragomir Starkov’s onstage presence. Dressed in black, he moved with confidence. With his hair slicked back from a widow’s peak and his eyes drawing the crowd into his mirage, he spoke in a heavy, Romanian accent. “Ladies and gentlemen, I will now attempt something few magicians dare. I will bring a creature back to life.”Turning to the rear of the stage, he hid his hands from view. When he faced the audience again, he presented the body of what appeared to be a dead kitten. The small animal hung limply across his open palm. Murmuring a low chant, he waved it from one side of the stage to the other. Then, with a flick of his white-gloved fingers, he urged the kitten back to life. The small cat sat up erect and blinked in astonishment. As it let out a satisfied “meow,” it sprang to the floor.The audience clapped wildly. In turn, Drago stepped forward. That’s when he spotted the woman he had willed to come to tonight’s show. With an abundance of flaxen hair that swayed from a ponytail like wheat in a summer breeze, and a flawless complexion that glowed against the stage’s low-lying gaslights, the young woman’s beauty imprisoned Drago like a padlock. In the sparkle of her violet eyes he saw something amazing—a unique essence of goodness that compelled him as he often compelled others. She’s even more beautiful than she was in my vision. The girl flashed him a smile—and when it illuminated his world of darkness like a bright spotlight, the need to protect and possess her rose within him. But it didn’t matter how he felt. He was here to banish a cruel curse cast upon her when she was a baby. And if he wanted to weave his unique spell around her, he needed to hypnotize her now. A hush fell over the theater. Clasping his hands behind his back, Drago paced the stage like a caged animal. “For my next trick, I need a female volunteer from the audience.”Numerous hands went up. He ignored them. Once he unlaced his dark cape, he threw it into the wings. “I need a very specialparticipant for this mystifying trick.” Pressing his forefinger to his temple, he pretended to use his powers of telepathy. Just then, the beautiful blond girl left her seat, accompanied by her dark-haired friend. They scurried to the theater’s center aisle, apparently adverse to the thought of being called on to volunteer. “You there!” Drago thundered. The duo froze in their tracks and wheeled around.Pulling on her thick, blond ponytail, Rose—her name popped into Drago’s head suddenly—blushed.“You, my dear.” He galloped halfway down the staircase at the side of the stage and extended his hand.“Go on, Rose!” her friend encouraged. Drago was right about her name.Rose smoothed her gingham dress. She joined him on the shadowed staircase, then took his hand. As Drago grasped it, an alarming chill raced up his spine. And when her pink lips spread into another shy smile, he found himself completely enchanted.Leading her to center stage he said, “Please tell the audience your name, Miss.”“It’s Rose Carlisle.”“Have we ever met before, Rose?”“No.”“If you don’t mind, I’d like to tell the spectators how old you are.”“I don’t know how you could guess that, but very well,” she replied in a sweet, clear voice.He cleared his throat. “Today is your birthday, and you are twenty years old.” The number surfaced in his mind as surely as he knew his own birthday. Rose’s jaw dropped open. She nodded vigorously. “How did you know?” Her friend, who had returned to her seat in the front row, mirrored her stunned expression.Drago felt his affinity for the doe-eyed beauty grow. Yet he urged himself to be careful—and to make her feel as comfortable with him as possible. “It doesn’t take a magician to see that you’ve attended this show without your parents’ permission,” he said. “Is that right, Miss Carlisle?”The crowd chuckled lightly at the joke. Rose looked stunned. “I haven’t seen my parents since I was a baby. But my adoptive parents don’t know I’m here.”“I see,” Drago remarked lightheartedly. But when he saw Rose clutching her hands together nervously, he sensed her pain ran deep.“Have you ever been a magician’s assistant?” “No,” Rose replied. “In fact, this is my first magic show.”“We’ll have to make it one you’ll never forget.” When he reached for her small, velvet hand, it trembled inside his at the suggestion. “Promise me you won’t be anxious,” he said. “I would never allow harm to come to you.”She slid a glance his way—and they locked eyes for what felt like an eternity. “I’ll try not to be nervous,” she finally promised. “What do I have to do?” “Absolutely nothing. Just close your lovely eyes and remain in one spot.” Rose did as she was told. Drago took the opportunity to study her high cheekbones, dainty mouth, and hourglass figure. Though she was tall, her demeanor lent her a fragile air. She seemed to him a delicate, porcelain doll which could be broken easily if handled improperly. Frowning, he tried to concentrate on performing his illusion. While Rose kept her eyes closed, he massaged the air in front of him with his fingertips. As he murmured something inaudible, he willed Rose’s feet to rise slowly off the ground. It appeared as if someone was pulling her legs out from under her. Eventually, her torso, limbs, and head reached a plane parallel to the stage and she was levitating in space.The crowd gasped as Drago reached for a large silver hoop. He proceeded to pass the circle back and forth over Rose’s stiff body. When he twisted and turned it in every direction, the audience gasped. The trick, which had been performed only one time before, proved it had the power to intrigue.“Are you doing all right, Rose?” Drago asked in a gentle voice.She nodded. Her ponytail swung toward the wooden floor.“Excellent.” Drago passed the silver hoop to his brunette assistant, Katherine. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a confession to make. The second half of this trick is new even to me. However, it’s something I feel bold enough to try with Miss Carlisle’s help.” Drago’s assistant cast him an angry look. He continued on anyway. “Katherine, would you hand me that red silk drape?” he asked. Clearly irritated, Katherine moved to the tiny prop table in the corner. Once she passed a large cloth to Drago, he unfolded it and draped it over the length of Rose’s levitating body. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a low tone. “Making a woman levitate in midair is one thing. But what if I made her …disappear?”He whipped off the red drape and exposed nothing but air. Men in pinstriped suits leapt to their feet and women touched their hats in astonishment.When the audience’s enthusiastic clapping subsided, Drago removed his gloves. “NowI’ll make our lovely Rose reappear. Just… like… that.” Snapping his fingers loudly, he moved to a cabinet in the middle of the stage. He opened the cabinet’s door with an exaggerated gesture and there stood a pale-faced Rose. Grinning, Drago took her hand and helped her out. Together they walked to the front of the stage and were greeted with thunderous applause. As he took one step away from Rose, Drago bowed to her as well. Her cheeks regained their color—and she looked at him as if he were the most wonderful man in the world. Although leaving her was the last thing he desired to do, he had no choice. Drago came closer to her and pressed something into her hand. Then he mouthed the haunting words, “Wear this and come back to me.”
Rose’s hand closed around the item the handsome magician had placed in her palm. The curtain closed with a dramatic whoosh—and as she stumbled up the aisle, she unfurled her hand and stared at the object. It was a beautiful amulet that bore a silver chain and mysterious Egyptian engravings.
About the Author:Marina Myles’s love of books began as soon as she read her first fairy tale. During her college days, she received degrees in English Literature and Communications—and enjoyed the unique experience of being a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader.
Now that she lives under the sunny skies of Arizona, she hasn’t left her glamorous life behind completely. After all, she gets to divide her time between her loving family, her loyal Maltese, and worlds filled with fiery—but not easily attained—love affairs.
Visit her at www.marinamyles.com
www.facebook.com/marinamylesauthor
www.twitter.com/#!/marinaauthor
www.amazon.com/author/marinamyles
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August 6, 2014
How real is too real? Guest Blog By Morgan St. Knight
How real is too real?By Morgan St. Knight
The lift of a wand here, a little ditty there, and poof! The heroine or hero gets what they need at the moment. Adding magic to a storyline can spice up paranormal, urban fantasy and horror stories. But can it get too real?
This may bring a few chuckles. Too real? Magic doesn’t exist. How can it get “too real”?
My opinion is different on that matter, but I’m not here to debate that. I want to look at what authors put in their books, and whether it sometimes goes too far.
I absolutely love it when authors do serious research to make their books as believable as possible. The former journalist in me loves facts. So if someone has written a scene with a criminal investigation, I want to see a real criminal investigation. What sort of techniques do the investigators use? What is the science behind those techniques? Has the author written a believable series of events with a believable outcome, or are there too many questions and improbabilities?
When we read a scene involving a specific science, discipline or art, and our own background knowledge tells us the details are spot-on, it makes the experience more enjoyable. When it seems off, we may be motivated enough to look up the details on line. If the writer has gotten it wrong, we lose respect for and enjoyment of the book.
What does this have to do with magic? Well, I mentioned science, discipline and art, and in my world magic is all three. But again, I’m not here to debate. So let’s take a neutral example.
Say a writer includes a bomb-making scene in a thriller novel. This isn’t just some cursory scene, either. The writer has done her research and goes, step by step, through the process of making a bomb. If the reader followed the same steps, they would have a bomb that would really work. The writers might as well have cut and pasted a chapter from “The Anarchist’s Cookbook”.
Would you say such attention to detail was necessary? Or would you deem it unnecessary and even irresponsible for the writer to include such data?
Here’s where I switch over to the topic of magic. In most cases, the magical scenes I see in books nowadays are innocuous. It’s unlikely anything bad would happen if someone decided to actually perform them. But I said most, not all, and there’s the problem. I have read some books that put in detailed scenes that might as well have come out of a grimoire. I have studied the occult for several decades, and I know the real stuff when I see it. True, some of these authors omitted (intentionally or through carelessness, I have no idea) certain aspects of the ceremonies. But they left in enough that a casual researcher could either find the missing information, especially in the age of everything-on-the-internet, or else could cobble together a working ritual from the elements that are there.
If you want a good example of TMI, read James Blish’s “Black Easter”. I don’t mind mentioning him by name because he’s been dead nearly 40 years, and you can’t defame the dead (in the U.S. courts, anyway. The dead have their own ideas about it). He did his research, I’ll give him that. There’s enough information in that little book to give someone the basics for full-dress demonic evocation. Fortunately the ritual is so onerous and the preparation so lengthy (you have to forge your own set of ritual swords, knives, etc.) that it’s unlikely anyone would have the time, patience or resources to attempt it.
But that’s not the case in other books. I read a series that centered on a witch who faced off against a number of occult enemies. Since the author is fairly well known, I won’t get into too many specifics or name names. A chapter in one of the books showed an evil sorceress performing a demonic invocation, and the details were surprisingly accurate. This was not the drawn-out process cited in Blish’s book. This was a short ritual done in one hour. The elements, from descriptions of magical symbols to the use of various tonal inflections in the actual invocations, was amazingly precise.
Good job with the research. Bad job for putting that kind of thing into writing for other people to find it.
So I beg those of you who want to write magical scenes, ease up on the research and come up with something that is dramatic but clearly in the realm of fantasy, or at least not practical for the average reader to try. Because if it’s doable, I guarantee someone will try it at some point.
Don’t worry that a real witch will come up and say “Bad research on the facts!” A real, responsible witch will look the other way, and may even give you a pat on the back for not spilling our trade secrets.
Curse of Prometheus:A Tale of MedeaMorgan St. KnightGenre: Paranormal/urban fantasy
AISN: B00HRG6FEAISBN-13: 978-0991396092
Number of pages: 276Word count: 107,000
The ancient world's most notorious sorceress has just become the modern world's only hope for survival.
Book Description:
How do you fight a god of light who has been seduced by darkness? That’s the challenge Medea Keres must meet. Posing as a wealthy young heiress in modern day Atlanta, no one knows she is the original Medea, the sorceress from ancient Greek legends.
As priestess of the witch goddess Hecate, Medea is charged with hunting demons that would otherwise overrun the world. Now she must face a far greater adversary. One of the twelve shining Olympian gods has turned rogue, violating the edict against human sacrifice. As the body count quickly rises, Medea knows her enemy is getting stronger.
With the help of the underworld nymph Orphne and the hero-god Heracles, she must find a way to unmask the evil so that the other Olympians will take action.
But as she probes deeper into a blood-soaked labyrinth of suspense and intrigue, Medea finds a net of deceit and treachery that will require all of her cunning to escape.
Available at Amazon
Excerpt
A form rose up between the two men on the table, as if it had been lying there all along. Dark and still amid the flashing power pouring out of me, it was perfectly black, the outline roughly human. There was no firm definition to the edges of the body. It flowed andrippled like onyx-colored water. Billowing clouds rose behind its back, shot through with thick reddish-black strands that throbbed unevenly like huge, ulcerated veins. The clouds resolved into vague wing-like shapes. Icy winds whipped through the room, snuffing most of the torches along the walls.{Forbidden}The voice was hissing, the single word almost breathless, as if it was uttered on an inhalation rather than exhalation. Pounding blows of dark energy assailed me, a relentless tide from an ocean of decay. The power flaring within me shuddered under the punishing attack.{Release}The word rang within my skull as much as it echoed from the walls, the sibilance giving it a hint of something vaguely serpentine. It seemed my summons was not going to go unchallenged. It was the worst possible circumstance, and yet I felt oddly reassured. I knew this adversary wouldn’t have bothered appearing if there hadn’t been a strong chance my efforts would be successful.“Yield, Thanatos!” I said through bared teeth, calling death by its ancient, though by no means its oldest name. I willed more energy from my center to push back its assault. I could show no fear, for it would be the one chink in my armor that Thanatos would find and exploit.{Mine}Fetid winds pummeled me, trying to force me to release my grasp on the two dead men. I knew if I broke contact with them for even an instant, Thanatos would be able to seal them off from me forever.I wasn’t willing to give up now. Too much was at stake. I was going to get the answer I needed, once and for all.I balled my hands into fists, clutching the hair of the men beneath me. I forced first one, then the other of my legs to lift up so I could struggle onto the table. “You want them back?” I yelled. “See what they bring with them!”
With a cry, I jerked their heads up so that they faced the hovering monstrosity in front of me. I changed the flow of my power, drawing it up rather than pushing it into the bodies, using it to suck the ram’s blood out of their stomachs. I concentrated with all my might, forcing the blood into jets that shot with blinding speed towards the living darkness.The still-hot fluid hit home, and horrible screams pierced the air. They sounded like multiple sets of iron claws dragging on a blackboard in rapid succession. I’d guessed correctly. The one thing death cannot abide is life, and fresh blood is the essence of life itself.There were huge rents in the darkness where the blood had eaten through the material form Thanatos had temporarily adopted. But the demon-like terror was not gone by a long shot. It wasn’t about to give up so easily. It closed the distance between us almost instantly, the head coming within inches of my own.I struggled not to retch at the stench of rot that poured from the area where a mouth would be on a human. On this creature, it merely seemed to be an inky black aperture, darkness within darkness.It rippled slightly as another single word oozed from deep within it.{Release}Numbness spread through my arms, and in a panic I looked down. I was still grasping the men, but I couldn’t feel my hands. It was a psychic assault. Nothing was actually wrong with my nerves or muscles. But if I didn’t maintain perfect control my hands could easily slip and let go of the prizes I was trying to win. Thanatos hadn’t been able to scare me into submission, so it was going to try another tactic.Too bad we’d sacrificed a ram instead of a bull. If I had more blood to work with I might have been able to disintegrate the form of Thanatos entirely. But there wasn’t another easily accessible source of life-force.Suddenly I remembered. Maybe I did have another weapon. I looked up. The bowl which had held the sacrificial blood was still floating above my head, right where I’d released it. It was caught up in the same nexus of power that surround me and the dead men. I recalled the word meaning “breath of life” engraved around the bowl, and understanding came to me. The words weren’t just decoration.They were an incantation. The bowl itself was a magical object, and it was still coated in blood.It was my only chance. I reached out with my mind, felt the shape of the bowl as clearly as if I held it within my own hands.“Now!” I screamed, using my mind to thrust the bowl down. It struck the jet-black form of Thanatos directly in the middle. Cries of pain and anger that would have frightened devils erupted from the dark specter, so loud that I thought my head would shatter.I felt the table jar as if we were in an earthquake, and it took all of my focus to maintain my hold on the dead men that lay on it. Their eyes were wide open now, their mouths working as if they were trying to say something. Hard to tell, but it could easily have been a look of terror on their faces. Well, no blame there. They’d died horrible deaths, and were now faced with new horrors when they should have been enjoying peace.I thought the form of Thanatos might simply disappear, but I should have known better. Nothing is simple in battles like that. Instead, it shattered into myriad shards that shot in all direction, like thousands of tiny arrows.About the Author:
Morgan St. Knight live in Atlanta, and is a lifelong student of mythology, the occult, and comparative religion. With more than 25 years of experience as a journalist, Morgan enjoys the occasional foray into fantasyland to escape the grim realities of life. He is currently working on the sequel to "Curse of Prometheus" and is developing a second paranormal series which also takes place in the South.
http://www.talesofmedea.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tales-of-Medea/697399940306618
July 21 Spotlight and reviewSister Sinister Speakshttp://sistersinisterspeaks.blogspot.com/
July 22 SpotlightJodie Pierce's Ink Slinger's Blogwww.jodiepierceauthor.blogspot.com/
July 23 InterviewButterfly-o-Meter Bookshttp://butterfly-o-meter.com/
July 24 Guest blogCloey's Book Reviews and Other Stuffcloeyk.blogspot.com
July 24 SpotlightShare My Destinyhttp://sharemydestiny.blogspot.com
July 25 SpotlightEmma Weylinhttp://emmaweylin.com/
July 28 Guest blogMythical Bookshttp://www.mythicalbooks.blogspot.ro/
July 29 SpotlightCorazones Literarios http://corazones-literarios.blogspot.com
July 30 SpotlightBooks & Tales:http://booksandtales.blogspot.co.uk/
July 31 reviewFang Freakin Tastic Reviews www.fangfreakintasticreviews.com
August 1 SpotlightBook Troll http://booktrollsrealescapebookblog.com
August 4 InterviewPembroke Sinclair. www.pembrokesinclair.blogspot.com
August 5 Spotlight3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, & Sissy, Too! http://3partnersinshopping.blogspot.com
August 6 Guest BlogFang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
August 7 InterviewRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com
August 8 Guest BlogThe Creatively Green Write at Home Momwww.creativelygreen.blogspot.com
August 11 Guest blogThe Review Listhttp://reviewlist.blogspot.co.uk/
August 12 Top Ten ListDarkest Cravingswww.darkestcravings.blogspot.com
August 13 ReviewBookworm Babblingshttp://inspirationsbysimone.blogspot.com/
August 14 SpotlightBooks and Books http://booksandbooksreviews.blogspot.co.uk
August 15 InterviewEclipse Reviewshttp://totaleclipsereviews.blogspot.com/
August 18 SpotlightBuried Under Bookshttp://www.buriedunderbooks.com
August 18 SpotlightThe Book Reviewhttp://www.cluereview.blogspot.com
Kindle Giveaway
To win, you just have to follow Morgan on Twitter @MorganStKnight and send a tweet that says "Entering giveaway for CoP". Only one tweet is necessary, but you must send that one tweet to know you're interested in entering the giveaway.
Additionally, Morgan will be giving away 2 copies of "Curse of Prometheus" each week of the tour. Everyone who enters for the Kindle giveaway on a given week is automatically entered for that week's book giveaway.
And yes, if you win a copy of the book, you are still in the running for the Kindle giveaway.
