Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 426

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

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 Wheaton
YA 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.



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 Author
Kimber 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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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 Aasheim
Genre: 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 One
Sheena 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.


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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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.

Forget Me NotShadowflesh Series Book 2Shawn Martin
Genre:  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

Sleeping Beauty and the DemonThe Cursed PrincesBook 4Marina Myles
Genre: 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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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. Knight
Genre: 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


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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. 

Interview and Giveaway Glimpse of Darkness by Nicole Delacroix

Can you tell readers a little bit about yourself and what inspired to write in this particular genre?
I was born in Frankfurt, Germany, my mother is a German national and my father was in the US military.  My father was military so we moved around a great deal, and making friends for me was difficult.  So my mother bought me a diary when I was 10 and I would scribble in it all the time. From that point on, I learned to live in my head and write everything down, so I guess I owe my mother for making me into a writer.  As for inspiration, I’ve always had a deep love for the paranormal and fantasy genre, so when you begin writing you write what you love.
What is it about the paranormal that fascinates you so much?
While my book doesn’t have vampires in it, I do love vampire stories and books.  I think for me I like the mystery and taboo of the subject.  In older literature, vampirism is a metaphor for intimacy, so knowing this I always let my mind wander when I read such stories.  Trying to think, how would someone from the Victorian era have viewed this?
What inspired you to write this book?
I’ve always had a fascination with angels and the story of the Nephilim.  I had been studying religious texts (for fun) and kept digging deeper into the legend.  Before I knew it I was seven books deep and could name all the listed fallen angels.  That’s when the story first began brewing.
Please tell us about your latest release.
Glimpse of Darkness is book 1 of a planned 4 book series that will follow the main characters, Daniel and Charlie, all over the world in a search for her missing father and her missing birthright.  Without giving too much away, there will be twists and turns along the way as well as an alternative history to some interesting events in history.  I’ve flushed out the story from beginning to end long before I began working on the first book, so I know exactly what will happen in each volume of the series and I know where the story ultimately ends.  My only “up in the air” item is that I was toying with the idea of making it a trilogy instead of 4 full books, so the number of volumes may change, but the story remains the same.
Do you have a special formula for creating characters' names? Do you try to match a name with a certain meaning to attributes of the character or do you search for names popular in certain time periods or regions?
I have a number of books for names, so usually I have an idea of what I’m looking for and just use the book or the internet to make a final selection.  I like using real places in my books so the internet is a huge help on that.
Was one of your characters more challenging to write than another?
I’m not sure that challenging is the word I would use, but I knew that I wanted Daniel to have certain abilities and for me I had to research every aspect of what those abilities would do to a human body.  I found the research tedious at times, but I think that once the second book comes out (where I’ll be focusing more on Daniel) the hours will have paid off.
Is there a character that you enjoyed writing more than any of the others?
I think I’m a bit of an oddball, as I tend to like the periphery characters more than the main characters.  For me, my favorite character is a tie between Fifi and Mo, they are so very distinctly different characters and their backstories were the most interesting to write.
Do you have a formula for developing characters? Like do you create a character sketch or list of attributes before you start writing or do you just let the character develop as you write?
I actually have a character questionnaire that has fifty questions.  I sort of do an interview with the character and then develop what I think they should look like.  That way I have their personality developed prior to what they look like.  I will say that limiting the questions allows some personality quirks to appear when I’m writing them, but I find a solid foundation makes it easiest for me. 
What is your favorite scene from the book? Could you share a little bit of it, without spoilers of course?
I really loved the scene where Daniel is explaining how angels don’t age and what angels really do on this planet… Here’s part of my favorite part – Daniel is the first speaker:
"Would you prefer the technical answer, like in scientific format, or would you prefer the easy answer?" He was enjoying being playful with such a serious discussion, it had been so long since he'd been so engaged by someone. She chewed her bottom lip in thought, "hmmm... I think technical with a side of scientific if you please." Daniel laughed under his breath, she really was a refreshing breath of air, she thought him crazy but here she was trying to wrap her mind around the concept. 
"Alright. Technical it is. My body and cells are not the same as yours are. In fact, the only way to explain it correctly is to think of the starfish. If it were to lose a limb it can regenerate a new one. It's not the same. If I were to lose a limb I couldn't regenerate a new one, but my cells are able to constantly regenerate themselves, in truth my cells are in a perpetual state of mitosis. The main benefit is that I can live for an indefinite period of time as long as my cells continue to regenerate. Eventually as I grow older I will start to look like I'm aging and my cells won't be able to replicate as fast. For example, I know that Sam is far older than I am and yet he still appears to be the same age as me." 
Did you find anything really interesting while researching this or another book?
I did.  I went through 7 different books on the subject and actually found a rare book that listed the names of all the angels and the different choirs.  I found it fascinating that most people believe in angels, but really don’t know much about them.  There is very little information about them in the bible itself and unless you’re a theology student, you really don’t have a clue. 

 Can these books be read as stand alones?
The first book sets the main story.  In my outline for book 2, you will gain some additional information, but if someone were to skip book 2 I think they would get the heart of the story without all the details.  I think book one and three are the heart of the story, even though book 2 will add needed backstory and there will be a few incidents in book 2 that may confuse some readers if they skip. 
Do any of your characters have similar characteristics of yourself in them and what are they?
Well I didn’t see it, but my best friend said that I was so much like Fifi that she thought I should have named her Nicole.  I didn’t see it, but after reading the book again I see that Fifi and I do share that precocious nature and a playful air.  So without choosing to do so I guess a little bit of me appears in all my characters.
Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? How do you deal with it?
I have to remember to not kick myself when I'm down. That’s how you give an invitation to writer’s block to come in and stay awhile.  A few of the tips I like to use when I’m feeling that “pause” coming on:

Take a walk
Be productive (do something else)
Write exercises (write an anecdote)
Step outside your comfort zone (write another genre)
Write a biography
Write a profile of someone you admire

Now I’ll admit in the pinch of the moment, I’ll immediately turn to Solitaire or World of Warcraft (that’s 6 hours I’ll never get back – and no one is ever ready for a raid!).   I turn off the internal editor and just write, even if it’s just something silly.  I write what I did the last time I was drunk.  (I never seem to  run out of those stories!)
Do you have any weird writing quirks or rituals?
I think most writers are creatures of habit.  I like to have a clean desk – I hate clutter around me when I work.  Beyond that, I like to listen to classical music or David Garrett when I write.  I like music without lyrics when I work.
Do you write in different genres?
I have tried my hand at non-fiction and I’m even working on a horror/ghost story at the moment.
Do you find it difficult to write in multiple genres?
Not really, in fact I find it helps me stretch my writing muscles. 
When did you consider yourself a writer?
I’m a firm believer in you dress for the job you want, so once I decided that I wanted to make some sort of living at writing, I started calling myself a writer.  It wasn’t until I finished writing my first book that I changed that term to author.
What are your guilty pleasures in life?
Chocolate, Chocolate and um… Chocolate… Oh did I mention, Chocolate?
Other than writing, what are some of your interests, hobbies or passions in life?
I'm an avid reader (what writer isn't?) and I try to read a book a week.  I'm also a huge Sci-Fi fan, so anytime there is a new SciFi movie out, I'll be first in line (Can't wait for the new Star Wars!).  Other than that, I work a full time job as an IT Professional and am excited that I'm going to be an Aunt very soon.
What was the last amazing book you read?
It’s a tie:  Jason Jones Voyages of the White Skull, Bev Stout Secrets of the Realm, and Sariah Wilson The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back.  All three are really interesting new voices.
Where is your favorite place to read? Do you have a cozy corner or special reading spot?
I really love curling up on my couch with a nice throw and a hot cuppa Earl Grey – I’m such a closeted Brit!
What can readers expect next from you?
I’m currently working on several things.  I’m focused on book two – the sequel to Glimpse – which is titled Blind Horizon.  In addition, I kick around a ghost/horror story and a World War II story I’ve been formulating.  My pet project is a non-fiction book that focuses on bravery, tentatively titled How Brave Are You?  I’ve finished that book and am currently shopping around literary agents.
Where can readers find you on the web?
http://nicole-delacroix.com/ https://twitter.com/NicoleDelaCroix http://nicoledelacroix.tumblr.com/ https://www.google.com/+NicoleDelacroix http://www.amazon.com/Nicole-DelaCroix/e/B00KAAORGS/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1401404455&sr=8-1 http://www.facebook.com/writer.nicoledelacroix
Would you like to leave readers with a little teaser or excerpt from the book?
I’m happy to supply some free excerpts for people to read.  You can read the first chapter either on my website at http://nicole-delacroix.com/glimpse-of-darkness/fangiveaway/or you can read the first two chapters here:  http://www.freado.com/book/18444/glimpse-of-darkness-volume-1-chronicles-of-the-cursed
Glimpse of DarknessVolume 1: Chronicles of the CursedNicole Delacroix
Genre: YA Paranormal/Fantasy
ISBN: 1497335930 ISBN: 978-1497335936ASIN: B00JWUOMIU
Number of pages: 367Word Count: 68183
Cover Artist: Javier Charro
Amazon   BN
Book Description:
Charlene (Charlie) Bennett is a simple waitress in the wilds of Hyder, Alaska whose father has just gone missing. Isolated and alone, her fathers' disappearance is nothing new to her, but this time things are a little different.
For starters, there is a handsome stranger, Daniel that has come to town and while Charlie has never taken more than a passing interest in strangers, she has an immediate and intense attraction to this one. Secondly, she's soon to find out that this stranger isn't what he appears. He's about to throw Charlie's entire world into a major upheaval.
Now Charlie has to decide if she believes this strangers' incredible story and follow Daniel or if she wants to stay in the only home she's ever known for an uncertain future and an absentee father. As she comes to terms with what Daniel shows her, she realizes that he's the only true thing in her life and leaves everything she knows behind to follow the handsome stranger.




About the Author: 
Nicole Delacroix was born in Frankfurt Germany to a German mother and American Military father. Her parents instilled in her a deep love of the written word and a profound respect for literature in all forms. So it's little wonder that from the moment she could first write she knew that writing would always be a part of who she is. From short stories to dabbling in scriptwriting she passes her time with her day job as an IT professional but feverishly writes well into the night. Her passion for literature encompasses many different genres but her heart beats true with fantasy and science fiction. She's fiercely loyal to friends and family and is eagerly awaiting the day when she can move to London England, her childhood dream.
Web:  http://nicole-delacroix.com/
FB:  https://www.facebook.com/writer.nicoledelacroix
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/NicoleDelaCroix
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8177927.Nicole_Delacroix
Google+: https://plus.google.com/+NicoleDelacroix/posts
Tumblr:  http://nicoledelacroix.tumblr.com/








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Release Day- Dark Sacrifice by Angie Sandro

DARK SACRIFICE
 A GIFT AND A CURSE
Mala LaCroix sees dead people -really. After using her psychic gifts to catch a killer, she's locked in a psych ward and must strike a deal with the devil to secure her release. Apprenticed to a dark arts practitioner, Mala vows to free herself and save her loved ones from danger. But she doesn't know who to turn to when her crush on Landry Prince turns into something more serious.
A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH
Landry has sacrificed everything to protect Mala. A near-death experience changes him forever, and now he, too, possesses supernatural powers he doesn't understand. Mala and Landry must band together to defeat the dark forces-both human and otherworldly-who would use their abilities for evil. Even as they fall for each other, they must prepare to battle for their very souls . . . 

BN   Kobo    iTunes    GooglePlay 
Excerpt:On Saturdays, the local farmers set up a market in Paradise Park. I plan to do my veggie shopping there since I didn’t get my garden planted this year. The streets bordering the park are packed. I’m lucky to find a spot in the parking lot of First National Bank kitty-corner from the Memorial Rose Garden. Colorful tents are lined up in orderly rows in the square. Each section is separated, with the organic foods in one row and regular folk who want to sell extra produce in the other. Local shops also set up booths selling everything from pastries, coffee and tea, handmade clothing and soaps, fresh eggs, organic meat, and toys and games. A freaktastic clown stands on the street corner with a tank of helium and a gaggle of kids around him. I’m tempted to buy Landry a balloon to cheer him up. The passenger door slams shut as soon as I shut off the engine. Landry wastes no time coming around to open my door and lift me to the ground before I can squawk in protest. He strides off while I grab my cloth shopping bag, leaving me to stare after his retreating back in shock. When he’s halfway across the street, he pauses and turns around. “This is your idea. Hurry,” he yells.  “I’m coming.” I shut the door and run to catch up. When I reach him, he moves around me until I’m on his blind side. He starts forward again, but slows his steps so they match mine. If I didn’t know him so well, I’d think he didn’t have a care in the world, but I do. He walks like he did in jail—shoulders back and tight, chest slightly raised. He scans the area, alert for a threat. I take his hand, squeezing when he tries to pull away.We blend into the crowd, strolling up and down the rows. It’s a mix of people of all ages. A few people say “hi.” Most don’t. A large percentage of them stare. I feel like I’m at the mercy of paparazzi. “Smile and wave,” I mutter from the corner of my mouth, jabbing Landry in the side with my elbow.“Huh?”“You’re acting like you’ve done something wrong, but you haven’t. Don’t let these fools see you sweat. Weakness breeds violence. Like a silverback gorilla in the jungle, you need to beat your chest and fling your poop at someone.”His snort-laugh doubles him over, and I pat him on the back. “That’s perfect,” I say. “No worries.”He turns and lifts me into a breath-stealing hug. “Thanks,” he whispers in my ear and presses a brotherly kiss to my forehead. Wish he’d move his lips a little lower. Would a few inches kill him?My voice comes a little thick and raspy too, and I cough to clear my throat. “No problem.”How long has he been standing here holding me? We have an even larger audience than before. Now we really are the object of paparazzi-like behavior as people snap pictures of our embrace with their phones. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my cheek against his. “Cheese,” I say, grinning for the cameras. A couple of high school kids start to laugh. One yells, “Give her another kiss, Landry.”“Yeah, Landry. Give me a kiss.” I bat my eyelashes, whispering in his ear, “I swear if you drop me on my ass in public—”I don’t have to finish the threat.His mouth steals across mine.  I lean into him, head tilting. My arms tighten around his neck. His lips are soft and juicy, like peaches. Yum. My thoughts scatter and swirl, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on mine. He breaks free first and lowers me to my feet. He avoids my gaze. “Did it work?” he asks, running his fingers through his black hair so it falls forward to shield his eye again. He shifts from his forward foot to his back which somehow puts distance between us without him having to move.I laugh, playing off the hurt. “Yeah, we gave our fans a titillating bit of new gossip to take the place of the old. Rumors about our relationship will be flying through town before lunch.” I glance around to be sure. The crowd drifts away, realizing there’s nothing more to see. Even better, nobody hurls insults or throws dead animals at our heads. “Let’s go.”

About Angie Sandro
Angie Sandro was born at Whiteman Air Force Base in Missouri. Within six weeks, she began the first of eleven relocations throughout the United States, Spain, and Guam before the age of eighteen.
Friends were left behind. The only constants in her life were her family and the books she shipped wherever she went. Traveling the world inspired her imagination and allowed her to create her own imaginary friends. Visits to her father's family in Louisiana inspired this story. Angie now lives in Northern California with her husband, two children, and an overweight Labrador.

http://anjeasandro.blogspot.com/
http://facebook.com/pages/Angie-Sandro/
@AngieSandro

Guest Blog and Giveaway: Warrior Lord by Nancy J. Cohen

Magic or Science? by Nancy J. Cohen
When does science turn into magic? In an episode of Babylon 5, a mage explains to one of the characters that magic is merely technology we don’t understand. Can you imagine how our less cerebral ancestors might have viewed a cell phone? It’s a little box from which voices emanate. Magic! Or how about a lighter, where at the flick of a finger, a flame is produced? Or a television, a big box where little people move and talk? Surely they must be possessed.
How many technological wonders have we yet to discover that would seem like magic to us today?
Take the invisibility cloak worn by Harry Potter. Magic is at work in J.K. Rowling’s series. Lord Magnor, the hero in Warrior Lord (The Drift Lords Series #3), wears a similar device on his belt. Is it magic or technology that allows him to become invisible to his enemies?
In Magnor’s case, it’s pure science. He explains how it works to Erika Sherwood, his new bride. They get married after meeting at a Las Vegas casino and entering a contest for engaged couples on a whim. Erika couldn’t resist trying for the $50,000 cash prize, plus a new car and a stay in the resort’s honeymoon suite. But she didn’t expect to find herself wed to a stranger in front of a live TV audience. Soon she’s swept into a maelstrom of danger and pursuit.

Magnor raids a museum at the Viking Vegas Resort after closing hours. He says the security guards are enemy soldiers called Trolleks, part of an alien invasion force who’ve entered Earth through a dimensional rift. He’s after a weapon that can defeat them. He seeks a clue to this weapon’s whereabouts in an ancient scroll displayed in the museum.
“Stay with me. My invisibility belt only works for you if we maintain contact.”Erika stared at him. “Your what?”His grip tightened. “The technology transmits visual information about our surroundings through the fibers of my clothing so it seems as though we’re not here. We disappear into the background. Please tell no one about this device. It’s proprietary to my, uh, company.”She felt privileged that he’d shared something confidential with her. “Whatever you say, husband.”His nostrils flared. “Do not believe our status gives you the right to plunder my secrets. If you even think about betraying me, I’ll hand you over to the Trolleks myself.”
This device isn’t totally a fictional invention on my part. I gained this information through a news clipping that mentions camouflage technology. It’s already in the realm of reality.
Then again, Magnor and Erika encounter dwarfs who have the power of invisibility along with the ability to turn inanimate objects into gold. Magic or technology based on science?
We also have a piece of equipment called a PIP, which is carried by the Drift Lords. This Portable Intel Platform is a handheld device with multiple functions including a scanner, locator beacon, and levitator beam. It’s like the Tricorder on Star Trek. Aren’t we close to this device today with the wristbands that can track your pulse rate, monitor the number of steps you walk and so on? Add infrared sensors, and these might be able to track life forms up ahead. We’re not far away from these tracking and scanning devices. And yet, to a less civilized group, being able to tell there are unseen humans in the vicinity might seem like extrasensory abilities at work.
Science makes technology possible, and advanced technology may seem like magic to the uneducated. In fiction, we have the option of explaining these abilities or of relegating them to fantasy.
Either way, what seems like magic today can probably be accomplished tomorrow through technological means. What’s exciting is how we can incorporate these possibilities into our fictional tales.


Warrior LordThe Drift Lords SeriesBook 3Nancy J. Cohen
Genre: Paranormal SciFi/Fantasy Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: August 1, 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62830-446-6ISBN: 978-1-62830-445-9ASIN:
Number of pages:  422Word Count: 102,340
Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor
Book Description:
A fantasy wedding in Las Vegas turns into a nightmare when contest winner Erika Sherwood realizes she’s married an alien.
Pottery sculptor Erika Sherwood has no idea her televised wedding in Las Vegas is for real until an official confirms she and the stranger she’s just met are legitimately wed.
A Drift Lord and warrior of the Tsuran, Magnor tricks the redhead into marriage because she’s one of six women prophesied to save Earth. But as he’s forced into her company in their race against the apocalypse, he wonders if he risks his heart more than his life.   
Can a free-spirited ceramic artist and a fierce swordsman trust each other enough to prevent disaster?
Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/91cdYSftbmU
Available at Wild Rose Publishing and Amazon

Excerpt:
Where else but Las Vegas could a bearded man wearing a cape and sword swagger inside a casino without drawing attention?Erika Sherwood stared at the man who peered around, a bewildered look on his face until his gaze slammed into hers.Her heart slowed, as though the world had frozen in that moment. Despite the bells ringing and people chattering and roulette wheels spinning, her awareness narrowed. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from his searing glance.Her pulse jumped when the man strode purposefully in her direction, his cape flapping behind him. With his powerful physique and resolute jawline, he looked like a superhero come to life. She supposed he’d bought that fabulous costume at a store along the Strip.He claimed the empty seat beside her, exchanged a few words with the blackjack dealer, and set out a pile of chips. Tension charged the air around him. Her sideways glance absorbed his longish black hair and trim beard and the wide breadth of his shoulders. She pulled her skirt down, aware it had hiked up indecently, but his gaze didn’t go there. Instead, his dark eyes fixated on her wristwatch.“Miss?” The dealer’s questioning glance fell on her.“Oh. Hit me, please.” She grimaced at the eight of spades she’d drawn. Drat, now she was over the limit.“Not having any luck?” The newcomer nodded at her diminishing pile of chips. “Maybe this isn’t your game.”“Excuse me, mister…?”“My name is Magnor.” He quirked an eyebrow when the waitress came by with another round of free drinks.Erika lifted her third Viking Volcano from the tray. Who could resist? The fruity drinks were on the house, a popular ploy to keep gamblers in their casino.She raised her glass in a friendly gesture before taking a sip. “Is Magnor your first name or your last name?”“It’s my only name.” His mouth curved as he watched her reaction.“O-kay.” She wasn’t in the mood to challenge him. Those drinks had already gone to her head, making her happy to accept his remark along with his blatant stare. Probably half the people in Vegas used false names anyway.“Do you work here?” she asked, realizing his outfit matched the resort’s Nordic theme.He stiffened. “I should say not. I am a guest, like you.”“Sorry to have asked, but you fit the part.”“It is my customary attire as a warrior of the Tsuran.”“I see,” she said in a noncommittal tone. Maybe he was an actor deep into his role. He could be taking a break from a movie set. Were they filming a sequel to Thor in the area?“Nice timepiece you’re wearing.” He nodded at the object of his scrutiny.Erika slid her hand under the table. “It was a gift.”Her parents had given her the watch for her sixteenth birthday with the caveat that she ask no questions about its unusual properties. It ran with no visible mechanism and no battery and had a peculiar symbol engraved on its face.Her forehead wrinkled. Why had Magnor chosen to comment on her watch when most men would offer a line about her flaming red hair or her flashy clothes?Come on, Erika, why do you care what he thinks? You came here for the art show, remember, and not to meet men?It must be the alcohol causing that low buzzing sound in her ears and not his imposing presence.“This announcement is for all of our engaged couples out there,” blared a loudspeaker voice. “It’s the last call if you want to enter our exciting contest. The lucky winners will be married on live television, after which they’ll receive a complimentary stay in our honeymoon suite, fifty thousand dollars, and a new car. Entries are being accepted in the Green Room all day Friday until four o’clock.”“Fifty thousand dollars,” Erika muttered. “Man, could I use that money!”Magnor nudged her, a grin on his face. “Why don’t we enter the contest together?”The smile transformed his features, making her want to study the craggy lines and furrows that made his visage so interesting.“What?” she said when his words finally registered.“I need a room, and the hotel is full. If we win, that will solve my problem. You can keep the car and the cash.”“B-But the winners have to get married. On live television.”He waved a hand. “Oh, that. Las Vegas is all about fantasy, is it not?”Her eyes widened. “You mean, the wedding will be filmed like a reality show, but it isn’t real?”He winked at her. “All of the contestants get bonus credits on their club cards. What have we got to lose?”Erika stared at her diminished pile of chips. She’d lost two hundred dollars in less than an hour. She scooped the remaining credits into her purse while considering the man’s outrageous suggestion.In her earlier days, she’d have accepted his proposal without a second thought. Back then nothing had mattered except her plants, her pottery, and her own pleasure.Eventually, she’d erected an armor of self-discipline around herself so she could accomplish her goals. However, this resolve had evaporated under the influence of the drinks and the man’s piercing gaze. Who wouldn’t want a hunk like him as her fake fiancé?Ignoring the warning bells in her mind, she scraped back her chair.“I accept your offer,” she told him with bravado. “If we lose, at least we’ll be ahead by several credits. And it might be fun.”“We should seal the deal if we are to play an engaged couple,” Magnor said, closing the distance between them.His head descended before she could protest, and his lips met hers.

About the Author:
Nancy J. Cohen writes the humorous Bad Hair Day mystery series featuring hairdresser Marla Shore. Several of these titles have made the Independent Mystery Booksellers Association bestseller list. Nancy is also the author of Writing the Cozy Mystery, a valuable instructional guide for writers on how to write a winning whodunit. Her imaginative romances have proven popular with fans as well. Her titles in this genre have won the HOLT Medallion and Best Book in Romantic SciFi/Fantasy at The Romance Reviews. A featured speaker at conferences, libraries, and community events, Nancy is listed in Contemporary Authors, Poets & Writers, and Who's Who in U.S. Writers, Editors, & Poets.
Website:  http://nancyjcohen.com
Blog: http://nancyjcohen.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/NancyJCohenAuthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/nancyjcohen
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/91508.Nancy_J_Cohen
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/njcohen/
Linked In:  http://www.linkedin.com/in/nancyjcohen
Google Plus: https://google.com/+NancyJCohen
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6Yb2zOkXEQ6xmAeYv8Jp5w/
Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/author/nancycohen
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/nancy-j.-cohen

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Win a whimsical Gnome figurine and a signed first edition copy of Circle of Light.
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