Edie Ramer's Blog, page 21

You're invited to chat with me at Romance University

I'll be quick so I won't interrupt your excerpt reading for too long. I'll be in a chat room with the Romance University ladies this evening (Thursday) between 8-9pm CST. You can find the chat room link at Romance University tonight. If you have a few minutes, stop in a say hi. Ask me a question about writing or dragons or ghosts or cats. Or anything you'd like.

In the meantime, RU has posted a new excerpt from DRAGON BLUES. It's a vulnerable and dramatic moment for the heroine. I like it and thought readers would like it.

I hope I'll see you at the chat room tonight!

You're invited to chat with me at Romance University!

I'll be quick so I won't interrupt your excerpt reading for too long. I'll be in a chat room with the Romance University ladies this evening (Thursday) between 8-9pm CST. You can find the chat room link at Romance University tonight. If you have a few minutes, stop in a say hi. Ask me a question about writing or dragons or ghosts or cats. Or anything you'd like.

In the meantime, RU has posted a new excerpt from DRAGON BLUES. It's a vulnerable and dramatic moment for the heroine. I like it and thought readers would like it.

I hope I'll see you at the chat room tonight!

Release party excerpt & giveway: EMILY'S CAPTAIN by Shari Anton

As the Union Army prepares to rampage through Georgia, Emily Gardner prepares to flee. She accepts the escort of a handsome soldier, who she later learns is not the man he claimed to be. Jared Hunter is on what he considers an easy mission: kidnap Emily Hunter and take her to her father. Too soon he discovers his necessary deceptions could cost him not only Emily's love but their very lives.

Emily's heart thumped, realizing she was about to offer her body, her heart, her very soul to the man she loved. She loved Jared. The startling admission heightened her fears.

Lovers. Could she settle for the relationship without commitment on Jared's part, knowing that once they reached their journey's end at Petersburg, Jared would leave and she might never see him again?

Damn her scruples. She'd had commitment once, from Lewis, and where had it left her? Rejected, alone.

Emily extinguished the lamp, closed the door behind her, then padded down the inn's dimly lit hallway. She stopped. What if Jared no longer wanted her after she'd so thoroughly rejected him?

Before her courage could falter she knocked on his door, but entered before he answered.

Jared's room was dark, except for the glowing ash on the tip of his cigar. She watched the spot of light glow brighter, then make a long arc of orange between his mouth and knee. He had to be sitting in a chair, in the corner.

"Do you know," he asked flatly, "the light from the hall seeps right through your nightgown?"

Stung by the lack of emotion in his voice, Emily realized Jared was angry, probably hurt by her rejection. Heavens, she'd come to his room for the express purpose of being seduced, not seducing Jared. Where did a lady begin?

"I'm sorry."

"Go back to bed, Emily."

Emily almost turned to obey the command. But she'd come too far to retreat. She closed the door.

"I'd like to stay."

He took another drag from the cigar. With a sigh, he said, "You can't sleep in your bed, so you want to use mine."

Emily resisted the childish urge to stomp her foot. Usually so astute, Jared had chosen this awkward moment to be blindly imperceptive.

"I am trying to say I am willing to share yours."

Buy the book: Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes&Noble, Smashwords, A Writer's Work

Find out more about Shari and her books at her website.

One lucky commenter will win an e-copy of EMILY'S CAPTAIN by Shari Anton. Comment on all 26 DRAGON BLUES Release Party excerpts for a chance to win more free books! Winners will be announced on Monday, Feb. 28. If you'd like to look at the schedule of events, click here.

Release party excerpt & giveaway: TAKE THE MONKEYS AND RUN by Karen Cantwell

Film lover Barbara Marr is a typical suburban mom living the typical suburban life in her sleepy little town of Rustic Woods, Virginia. Typical, that is until she sets out to find the missing link between a bizarre monkey sighting in her yard and the bone chilling middle-of-the-night fright fest at the strangely vacant house next door. When Barb talks her two friends into some seemingly innocent Charlie's Angels-like sleuthing, they stumble upon way more than they bargained for and uncover a piece of neighborhood history that certain people would kill to keep on the cutting room floor.

Enter sexy PI Colt Baron, Barb's ex-boyfriend who would love to be cast as new leading man, filling the role just vacated by her recently estranged husband, Howard. When Colt flies in from out of town to help Barb, events careen out of control and suddenly this mini-van driving mother of three becomes a major player in a treacherous and potentially deadly FBI undercover operation. It's up to her now. With little time to spare, she and she alone, must summon the inner strength necessary to become a true action heroine and save the lives of those she loves. The question is can she get them out alive before the credits roll?

The sky was black, my toes were numb and I was a lunatic.

Forgetting that our recent October nights had turned colder, I had set out on my mission barefoot.  I had no idea what the thermometer said, but the ice cold brick beneath my unprotected feet told me plenty.  And my worn-thin-through-the-years knit jammies were certainly no match against the biting air.  Evidently I had left my brains in the house along with my shoes and down-filled parka.  Indiana Jones, our orange Tabby, followed me and purred while he rubbed against my legs, offering a tinge of warmth at best.

I squinted into the darkness.  "Three thirty in the morning.  Am I totally insane, Indy?"

"Mew."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Yes, I'm a grown woman and I talk to my cat.  What's the big deal?  My cousin Samson the psychiatrist tells the family I'm delusional and should be medicated.  Pshaw I say.  Samson has a psychiatrist of his own as well as a far more disturbing obsession with large farm animals, so I severely doubt his legitimacy.  As long as Indiana Jones talks to me, I'll keep talking to him.

My name is Barbara Marr.  I'm not a lady coroner, bounty hunter or crime scene investigator.  I don't fight vampires, werewolves or flesh-eating zombies destined to destroy humanity.  Even worse, I don't knit, sew, bake gourmet goodies for sweet English ladies or refinish houses then flip them for a profit.  In fact, I lack a veritable encyclopedia of talents and accomplishments.  I have managed to give birth to three children, but when my teenage daughter looks at me like I'm an alien from the planet Freak, I wonder at my parenting abilities.

Then of course there is my marriage.  Not long ago I would have bragged to anyone about our solid bond.  True love.  True fidelity and commitment.  That was before Howard dropped the bomb and moved out.  So perpetuating matrimony can be added to the list of things I don't do.

When reviewing the list of lifetime achievements for which I am proud, being mother to my three girls sits at the very top, followed by the time I saw Yul Brenner in a convenience store and discreetly let him know he had ketchup on his chin.  He was so thankful that he autographed a bag of Fritos for me.

And most recently I got familiar with the video camera again and shot a music video with my daughters.  We called it Four White Girls Do Madonna. I posted it on You-Tube and got over twenty-five views.  It was very exciting.  Still, I'm not exactly setting the world on fire.

So when Howard left, I decided it was time to resurrect my dream and write about movies.  I love the movies.  Old movies, new movies, musicals, dramas, comedies, westerns, action, science-fiction, and anything starring Meryl Streep.  Some years ago, in between changing diapers and potty training, I had bought a domain name, ChickAtTheFlix.com, with the intention of building a movie review website.  I kept the domain name, but got side-tracked by little things like ear infections, strep throat, pre-school, elementary school and baby number three.  Now, with my life deteriorating before my eyes, the time had come to take the bull by the proverbial horns and start anew.

After putting the girls to bed, I needed a way to keep my mind off Howard.  I plotted and planned a grand design.  The website would contain reviews of current release movies as well as DVD releases of older classics.  I would also have a weekly blog where I waxed enthusiastic on different subjects of the cinema.  Since I had just recently watched a Men of Mystery Film Festival on the Classic Movie Channel, my first blog title would be, "Charlie Chan or Sherlock Holmes?  Whodunnit Better?"

At two a.m., I was too tired to think about the website, but too upset about my marriage to sleep, so I turned on the TV.  Movie fare included The First Wives Club, A Bill of Divorcement, An Unmarried Woman and The Breakup on HBO.  Disgusted, I turned off the TV, turned out the lights and contemplated learning voodoo so I could hex Howard with a festering urinary tract infection.

By three a.m., I had been crying for at least twenty minutes when I heard the rumble of a truck outside my bedroom window.  Suddenly, I had something else to occupy my frazzled mind.  The truck was back at House of Many Bones.

And that was how I ended up outside on a cold, fall night with no shoes on.

Buy the book: Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes&Noble, Smashwords

Find out more about Karen and her books at her website.

One lucky commenter will win an e-copy of TAKE THE MONKEYS AND RUN. Comment on all 26 DRAGON BLUES Release Party excerpts for a chance to win more free books! Winners will be announced on Monday, Feb. 28. If you'd like to look at the schedule of events, click here.

Release party excerpt & giveaway: FORGET ABOUT TOMORROW by Liz Kreger

On the run from an intergalactic mob boss, she kidnaps the earthling security expert who helped her. Her plan? Make him forget about tomorrow.

Larissalyia Ashanti, is hiding out on Earth, a barbarian planet unsanctified by the FOW—Federation of Worlds—and on the run from an intergalactic mob boss who plans to use her as leverage to force her magistrate father to clear his criminal record.

Mac, an earthman, witnesses the evidence of aliens when the mob catches up with Lacey. After he helps her fight them off, she does the only thing she can think of—she kidnaps him and takes him with her as she flees Earth. Mac learns the answer to that age old question of whether there's life out there…in spades. But not only does he have to convince Lacey that his numerous skills are indispensable, he has to find a way into her heart.

The chase is just beginning…and so are the romance, adventure and danger as they cross the universe in search of safety and answers.

Going by the evidence of his eyes, he had a feeling the question of whether mankind was alone in the universe was about to be answered.  No way in hell were those scaley things people in costumes.  Even Hollywood couldn't have come up with something so bizarre.

Which left only one explanation.

He cocked one eyebrow upward when she didn't answer.  "Let's start with something real easy, lady.  You got a name?"

Her chin came up in the same imperial manner he had noticed earlier.  That gesture was beginning to irritate him.  Her regal attitude tried to regulate him to the status of an underling, but he wasn't falling for it.  The grin he gave her was designed to infuriate.  Going by the frown gathering on her brow, he'd succeeded.

Then he was distracted from his amusement when he noticed something else.  Her eyes were now the color of dark storm clouds.  He was sure she had ice blue eyes.  No … they'd been a pale gray.  He shook his head.  He was a trained observant and he couldn't even say for sure what her eye color was.  Pitiful, MacNaught.

"Yes, I have a name."  He again noticed her sing-song manner of speech.  It feathered up and down his spine in a very intriguing way.  Hell, with that voice, he'd listen to her read from a dictionary.

It was steamy and cool at the same time and everything in between.  Sexier than hell.

"It is Larissalyia Sarisekko Ashanti."

He stared at her for several seconds, dumbfounded.  The way she pronounced her name inserted vowels where he wouldn't have guessed existed.  He began to laugh.  The movement irritated his back but he ignored it.

"I couldn't pronounce that on a bet.  I'll just call you Lacey."

"You will do no such thing."

"Look, lady.  It's late, I'm hurting and I'm really not in the mood to put up with a prima donna."  With slow deliberation, he stalked her, deliberately exuding intimidation. He was pleased to note she refused to back down.  She had guts, he had to say that for her.  If anything, that stubborn chin came up higher.  This close, he saw that her eyes were no longer gray.  Even has he watched, they bled into a deep brown with reddish specks emerging.

Shit.  No wonder he couldn't put a color to her eyes.  They changed with her moods!

Before today, Mac would have said he didn't believe in aliens. Tonight's events proved him wrong.

Buy the book: Samhain Publishing, Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes&Noble, Borders

Find out more about Liz and her books at her website.

One lucky commenter will win an e-copy of Liz Kreger's FORGET ABOUT TOMORROW. Comment on all 26 DRAGON BLUES Release Party excerpts for a chance to win more free books! Winners will be announced on Monday, Feb. 28. If you'd like to look at the schedule of events, click here.

Release party excerpt & giveaway: SACRED SECRETS: A Jacoby Ives Mystery by Linda Prather

Sacred Secrets is the prequel to award winning, The Gifts, A Jacody Ives Mystery. The story behind the story. Revealing the dark secret hidden of Gavin McAllister that created Jacody Ives.

Jacody Ives had never had to wonder whether evil existed. He was born knowing it was there. A cunning predator, silently stalking its prey. Lurking in the shadows. Waiting. Patiently waiting for the delicate balance to shift. Give it power. Grant it life. Feeding on lies and manipulation. Anger and hate. Growing stronger as it chipped away at the soul. Destroying the light until there was nothing left but the darkness.

Evil attracts evil. He'd heard its call in the nightmare. The girl was dead, but she wanted something from him. "Please. . .", she whispered. A small prayer in the darkness. Unanswered.

He would answer. There'd never been any other choice for him. Evil knew his name.

"Just put the bags over there." Katie O'Connor smiled at the young man standing patiently by the door as she took stock of the sparsely furnished cabin. Two bunk beds, a nightstand by each with a rustic door in the middle that she hoped led to a bathroom.

A quick glance told Katie that the left side of the cabin had been reserved for her. At least she hoped her side would be free from the blood-dripping posters and graphic art that was stretched wall to wall on the right side of the room. No wonder the kid was depressed.

Frank Davis set the bags on the bed, glanced around the room and grinned. "Remind me to get the name of your interior decorator. Make sure I don't hire her."

With a wave of his hand he was gone.

Katie sat on the bed, once again doubting her judgment in participating in this weekend. She wasn't even sure how she'd gotten here. Everything since Friday morning was a blur. She stood up, frozen for a moment, not knowing what to do. She wasn't a counselor. And she knew absolutely nothing about kids. Glancing around the room again she grimaced. And Dr. Arthur was wrong. She had nothing in common with her roommate, except for the fact they were both dying. Katie had lived with that knowledge for a long time. Death was closer now. More of a reality. She should have checked with Dr. Wagner before coming here. She should have . . .

"Welcome to death row."

Katie whipped around, barely controlling the gasp that was itching its way up her throat. Closing her mouth she quickly averted her eyes from the young woman in the doorway.

The bloody posters and graphic art had not totally prepared her for their owner. Thick ebony hair cut in a pageboy surrounded a stark white face, sable eyes and black lips. A face devoid of emotion. Two days. She was in for two days of Nightmare at Camp Hope, and she was bunking with a pint sized Freddie Kruger.

Katie breathed in a small dose of confidence. She could do this. She handled hundreds of employees every day. Dealt with shady lawyers, stock brokers and politicians. It was only two days. Pasting a smile on her face she stuck out her hand and approached her roommate. "Hi, I'm Katie O'Connor."

"Oh, crap. You're one of those." The wheels of the chair scraped the wood floor as the girl pushed the chair to her side of the room, turned and crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't bother unpacking. I am not spending the last few days of my life with a perky Pollyanna."

Katie let her extended hand drop to her side as she again forced her mouth to close. She was beginning to feel like a cartoon character stuck in a bad script. Anger heated her eyes, a deep red flush rising from her neck to her face. Impertinence was something she was not used to. Turning her back on the girl she opened her suitcase and began to unpack muttering to herself.

"Take away the wheelchair and fifteen years and you're looking at you, Katie. She's scared. Angry. And damned adamant not to show either one. Remember what that was like, Katie?  Clover needs you. And I think you need her."

Katie recited Dr. Arthur's words to herself, angrily tossing clothes into drawers. Clover didn't need anyone. And Katie certainly didn't need her. She'd be lucky if she survived the weekend without choking the little monster.

"Hey, I told you, you're not staying here."

Katie exhaled slowly. As much as she hated to admit it, Dr. Arthur was right. Survival depended as much on attitude as it did on medication. The rest–well the rest was up to God. She felt the slight tremor in her hands as she placed the diary in the top drawer. Running her fingers over the raised print, remembering how stubborn she'd been, how pissed off at the world. Her "kick them before they kick you" attitude.

She needed that attitude now. If she was going to deal with a twelve year old then maybe she needed to act like one. Closing the drawer she turned around facing Clover.

"And I'm supposed to listen to you why?" Sarcasm dripped from every word. Katie let her gaze slide over the painted face. "Halloween is still three weeks off you know."

The air in the room vibrated with tension. Each measuring the other. Katie could feel the struggle going on inside Clover. No one had ever challenged her. No one said no to her. She'd expected Katie to pity her. Well, the hell with that. Katie reserved her pity for those who needed it, not those who wanted it.

Katie refused to look away. She was going to win this battle if it killed her. Clover uncrossed her arms, pushed the wheelchair closer to her own bed. "Okay, you can stay."

Katie made a sound of disgust. "Yeah, I thought so."

Finished unpacking, she sat down on the bed. The simple task, combined with the emotional strain had robbed her of precious strength. She was going to have to watch her own attitude this weekend. It was always easier for someone to pull you down than it was for you to pull them up. She'd won round one, but it was going to be a long weekend.

Buy the book: Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes&Noble, Smashwords

Find out more about Linda and her books at her website.

One lucky commenter will win an e-copy of SACRED SECRETS by Linda Prather. Comment on all 26 DRAGON BLUES Release Party excerpts for a chance to win more free books! Winners will be announced on Monday, Feb. 28. If you'd like to look at the schedule of events, click here.

Release party excerpt & giveaway: AIN'T LOVE GRAND? by Dana Taylor

"Love will have its way in this charming tale of opposites attracting." -Booklist Review

"a fresh voice, an impeccable sense of comedic timing, vivid narrative, and fascinating characters." -Foreword Magazine

Golden Quill Award for Best First Book

They first meet when he tackles her to the ground. All Persephone Jones was doing was trying to stop the bulldozer from destroying the herb garden she planted on property adjoining hers. But her new neighbor, Jason Brooks, was not only building a beautiful new house, but also a landing strip over her garden. Persephone and Jason couldn't be more different. He is a well-known, high-powered defense attorney with money to burn. She's the illegitimate daughter of a flower child, and dispenses wheat-grass smoothies as well as herbal remedies from her modest shop. And neither of them can understand their mutual attraction. In spite of appearances, Persephone doesn't abide by all hippie principles. For instance, when Jason suggests that they make their relationship more intimate, she demurs. For her sex is an important step, indicating that marriage is on the horizon. He feels differently, but love will have its way in this charming tale of opposites attracting. -Maria Hatton

The set-up: Persephone Jones is the owner of a health-food store Peeler, Oklahoma. She recently had a run-in with her new neighbor, lawyer Jason Brooks.

It was a Saturday, two months later in August when a lively gray-haired lady and her overly-made-up preteen granddaughter came into the shop.

"Let's just see if they have anything for these stiff hands." The lady looked up at me with sparking, china blue eyes. Her skin feathered into fine parchment lines. A twinkling expression and fluffy coif of white hair revealed an impish spirit.

"Good morning", I said. "Would you like a cup of herbal tea?"

"Oh, that would be delightful! How about you, Valerie?"

The granddaughter, Valerie, made a face and rolled her eyes. "Maybe later. What is that weird smell?"

"It's essential oils. I just finished a massage. That oregano oil is a little stout." I handed the lady her tea. "I'll have to diffuse some peppermint and clove to overcome it."

Valerie wrinkled her nose. "Smells like weeds."

I opened a vial. "Here, take a whiff of this. It's much better."

The girl leaned toward the counter. She was probably about twelve, wearing hair chopped into one of those bobs that spiked out at the neck, supported by lots of hair goo. She had on full foundation, powder, four coats of mascara and sparkly eye shadow. Her clothes hugged her budding little body, and I'm sure she'd have been thrilled if I'd asked her if she was a junior in high school. She gingerly sniffed the bottle.

"Better?" I asked.

"Yeah, but it's not exactly Heiress from Paris Hilton."

"No, but did you know essential oils have been used for centuries to heal the sick, bless babies, and make perfume? You've heard that the Magi brought the baby Jesus frankincense and myrrh?"

"Yeah," she eyed me suspiciously.

"Did you ever stop to think what they were?" She shrugged, but I had captured her interest. I pulled two more vials. "This is frankincense, and this is myrrh. Two of the most precious essential oils used throughout history. The oils are like the blood of the plants, full of powerful healing properties."

She sniffed them. "This is what they brought Jesus? Awesome."

I turned my attention to the woman, who was watching us with amusement. "Is there something I can help you with?" I asked.

She smiled at me. "Yes, my dear. I wake up with the stiffest hands, and I was just wondering if you've got something that might help."

"We've got various formulas to relieve arthritis." I guided her to that section of the store, and we discussed several alternatives. The granddaughter browsed around, and let her adolescent guard down just a bit.

As I rang the woman up, the front door burst open, and a male voice boomed, "There you are! I've been in every antique shop on the block."

It was my new neighbor, Mr. Brooks. Today, he wore suit pants and a dress shirt, sans a tie that he'd probably tossed due to the sweltering August heat. He looked at the females, jutting out his strong chin. Razor sharp eyes filled with irritation. The store suddenly seemed smaller with him inside.

Valerie spoke up. "Well, if you weren't on that cell phone all the time, you'd have heard Grandma say we were going to the health food store."

Grandma finished writing her check. "I did tell you dear, and you even nodded your head, but you weren't really paying attention."

Mr. Brooks was paying attention now. To me. He got sort of squinty-eyed and tipped his chin back, trying to place me.

With an exaggerated Okie accent I said, "Howdy neighbor. Ya'll probably don't recognize me without twigs in my hair."

He snapped his fingers, and approached the counter. "The weed lady." Looking around, he took in the surroundings. "So, this is what that weed garden was about. I thought maybe you were part of the witch covens I've heard about around here."

I pursed my lips in irritation at the word "witch."

Mrs. Brooks heard the exchange. "We're neighbors? How wonderful! You'll have to come over and visit. Jason hasn't constructed the most welcoming place in the world, what with the gates and security system and all. Not a soul has braved coming by. I told him he should have gone all the way and put in a moat and drawbridge."

"I think the spiked iron gate and stone wall do the trick," I said.

Lots of folks in Peeler don't even lock their doors. Mr. Brooks' fortress showed a definite lack of trust in his fellow man – or woman.

He leaned across the counter on his forearm, invading my personal space. Powerful male energy ruffled my usually peaceful aura.

"I've been waiting for my chocolate chip cookies," he said, with a low resonance that fluttered my stomach.

"Oh, I forgot." Liar. Brooks transmitted some unspoken challenge. I glanced around. "Here's a box of carob cookies with high fiber. Much better for you."

He caught the box and tossed it back and forth between his large hands. "I'll bet these taste like cardboard."

I raised my eyebrows. "They are an acquired taste."

He handed back the box. "I think I'll hold out for the real thing."

Were we still talking about cookies?

Mrs. Brooks put her hand on his arm. "Miss Jones has me all fixed up. I really hope this helps, my dear. I'll send all my friends to you if I improve. Why, Jason could probably use your help too."

Brooks straightened up, "Mother…"

Valerie piped in, "Yeah, he pops those antacids like Life Savers."

I couldn't resist. "Maybe we could start him on a colon cleanse. That's the first step to good health."

Brooks looked at his watch. He knew when he was outnumbered. "I've got a conference call in half an hour. Let's go."

Valerie moaned, "Oh, Dad, I wanted to check out that new boutique!"

Brooks glowered. "Yeah, you need more clothes all right. Your room looks like your closet exploded." Val rolled her eyes. "Outside. Now." He headed toward the door.

"You'll have to forgive him, my dear." Mrs. Brooks whispered, as if telling a terrible secret, "He's a lawyer."

He yanked the door open impatiently, and held it as they scurried out. Looking back over his shoulder, he pierced me with his steel-blue eyes. "I'm looking forward to trying out your cookies, Miss Jones."

Gulp.

Available on Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes&Noble, Smashwords

You can find out more about Dana Taylor at her webpage.

One lucky commenter will win an e-copy of AIN'T LOVE GRAND. Comment on all 26 DRAGON BLUES Release Party excerpts for a chance to win more free books! Winners will be announced on Monday, Feb. 28. If you'd like to look at the schedule of events, click here.

Release Party excerpt and giveaway: UNWILLING ACCOMPLICE by Melanie Atkins

Marcy Moretti believes that anyone can be redeemed, until she witnesses a murder at the hands of her ex-husband and is forced to go on the run with her young son in order to survive. The only person who can help her is Joe Riso, her former brother-in-law, a detective staggered by the loss of his wife and daughter. If he's going to protect both Marcy and her boy, he must first find a way to unfreeze his icy heart — and along the way find his own redemption.

Joe strapped on his ankle holster containing the backup piece he hadn't used since he'd turned his duty weapon over to Cole, and on impulse loaded his old backup revolver, a snub-nosed .38, and stuck it in his pocket. Then he ushered Marcy and Ryan outside to his black SUV, where he handed Ryan his backpack and climbed wearily into the driver's seat. Marcy clenched her hands around the bag of clothing and toiletries in her lap as he backed from the driveway.

"How far do we have to go?" she asked.

Joe met her worried gaze in the mirror. "Just across town. Shouldn't take long."

"Good."

Traffic was light, and Joe took his time making his way to the interstate so as not to draw attention to their vehicle. The rain hadn't returned, but a thick, white haze hung in the air like a cloud that had lost its way. As he neared the elevated highway, he noticed a dark car, maybe a Lincoln, lingering four cars back. It stopped when he stopped, sped through yellow lights to keep up, and never got too close. His nerves went on red alert. He kept his eyes on it as they left Metairie and entered the city of New Orleans. If that was Frank…

He tightened his hold on the wheel. He didn't want to scare Marcy, so he decided not to say anything unless the car made a move. It could be anybody.

The exits clicked by, and he soon spotted Louisiana Avenue.

"I really appreciate your doing this," Marcy said, finally gracing him with a look as they rolled down the exit.

Joe met her wary eyes. "No problem. You're family."

She stared at him a long moment but didn't say anything else. So he returned his gaze to the road. Being so close to her ratcheted up his libido, which he'd thought had died along with Emily. Discovering it was alive shocked him.

He headed south on Louisiana and tried not to think about it. Having a fling with Marcy was out of the question. For one thing, she despised him. And for another, he had more important things to worry about, like getting her and Ryan to the safe house in one piece. His eyes drifted back to the mirror just in time to see the dark car fly down the exit behind them.

He cursed inwardly. "Marcy–"

"What is it?" She turned her head.

He flicked another glance at the rearview mirror. The vehicle turned onto Louisiana and raced toward them at high speed. Had to be Frank.

He clenched his jaw. "We've got trouble."

"What do you mean?" She twisted in her seat and peered behind them. Her face went white. "Oh, my God. It's him!"

Buy the book: Desert Breeze Publishing, Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes&Noble

Find out more about Melanie Atkins and her books at her website.

Melanie will give away an e-copy of UNWILLING ACCOMPLICE to one lucky commenter. Comment on all 26 DRAGON BLUES Release Party excerpts for a chance to win more free books! Winners will be announced on Monday, Feb. 28. If you'd like to look at the schedule of events, click here.

Release party excerpt & giveaway: BITTERSWEET by Marcia Colette

Phaedra Thorne's goals in life are simple. Make it to eighteen so she can legally adopt her sister and hope she ever becomes like her deranged mother who secretly lives in the attic. They're not the normal hopes and dreams of a kid her age, but then again, Phaedra is anything but typical. Schizophrenia and psychokinesis go hand in hand in her genes. With hings always upending or blowing up around her, she's already halfway there and horrified one of these days she'll be the next to go insane.

Five years have passed since Phaedra has seen her older, estranged brother. She's hesitant about his return and even more so when he comes bearing a cure for their mother. However, this so-called antidote, having sex with an incubus, comes with a catch that's larger than the statutory rape implications. The incubus who's willing to help the Thornes has unwittingly been followed by beings who call themselves hags. They want to drain the demon dry of his power and don't care if they threaten Phaedra's desire to have a normal family. She'll do hatever it takes to protect her loved ones, even if that means trusting her uncontrollable powers won't kill everyone in the process…including a Child Welfare official who'll decide in thirty days if the Thorne household is safe enough to raise children.

My fingers quivered as I reached for the brass knob. A swallow slipped down my dry throat. This squeaky door would be my undoing. Bracing myself, I turned the handle and stepped forward. My ears opened to the silence of our home. No stomping across the hardwood floors or muffled screams from the attic. No objects flying at my face or anyone yanking me inside for a beating. Mom was secure in her top-floor prison.

I took my six-year-old sister by the hand and led her inside. Just in case my senses were wrong, I needed to be ready to hustle her right back out the door.

When most kids arrived home, they shouted their arrival and ran screaming into the arms of the first parent they found. Hugs and kisses would ensue, along with a, "How as your day, honey?" Delicious smells of dinner wafted through the house and the night would end with everyone hunkered down in the living with a good movie. Mom would hand us our steaming cups of hot chocolate while Dad would follow it up with a large bowl of popcorn filled with butter and salt.

That was the life. It had ended five years ago.

Dad left us, my older brother followed, and Mom? Well, she gradually slipped into a dangerous blend of full-blown schizophrenia and psychokinesis. I was half-way to following in her footsteps. I'd give anything not to have my powers.

One loud noise would set Mom off so, we had a no yelling policy in place. That also meant there would never be any sleepovers or parties. I was lucky enough to have a few before she went nuts, but Nadia had to wait her turn. Assuming there would ever be one. We met up with our friends anywhere but 101 Whitemark Lane because we valued our lives…and theirs.

"I can't get this off." Nadia struggled with the zipper on her jacket.

"Come here, Squirt."

It took some doing, but I got her free. Nadia turned and took it from there like little Miss Independent who knew it was best to pull her own weight in our weirdo family. She slid off her backpack and jacket at the same time before dragging them across the floor.

Man, I hated seeing her down like that. She took it hard when I told her that Cammy couldn't come over to play on the swing out back. I'd have to make it up to her somehow. But for now, we all had to make sacrifices. Myself included.

If word had ever gotten out that our mother was unfit to care for us, the idiots from Child Welfare would come. Hell, they already have. There were only so many creative ways to lie about a black eye. After the third one, people start asking questions. The forth one had gotten the attention of a school official who should've minded his own business.

Something scraped across the hardwood and slammed into the floor above our heads. Both of us stared at the same spot. We knew where that had come from. Oh, man, I didn't want to go up there. Not again. But if I wasn't checking on her, who would? No way in hell would I leave my six-year-old sister do it.

"Stay here." I grabbed a nearby throw I kept hanging over back of a chair. Shoving something over her head whenever she went into a psychokinetic tirade usually calmed her down. Usually.

"Nooo. I wanna go with you. I colored a picture for Mommy."

I started up the stairs, taking them two at a time. "Stay there, Nadia. I'm serious."

After rounding the banister to the second floor, I hurried to the midpoint in the hall and reached for the level that lowered the ladder from the attic. We kept my mother up there like a dirty secret because it was the darkest place in the house. It was either that or the basement, which was unacceptable. We had too much junk down there to use as weapons. Plus, the racks of clothes from her pre-schizophrenic days seemed to quiet her down.

I tossed the blanket over my shoulder and headed up the ladder. When I came to the top, I poked my head over the ledge and scanned the room.

Light shone from a small window at the far end overlooking the small wooded area we called a backyard. I put up some curtains to make it homier. Guilt had something to do with it, too. Just like the dozens of clothes at the far end of the attic, Mom must have liked them because they hadn't been torn to shreds yet.

My mother sat in front of the window with her back to me, her body bent like she remained seated in an invisible chair. What remained of her white wicker seat was on the floor to my right in a twisted mess. If it weren't for her being psychokinetic, I'd swear magic held her in place.

BITTERSWEET, Marcia Colette's first self-published young adult book will be available any day now. In the meantime she's giving away an e-book ARC copy of Bittersweet. You can check out her Samhain, Parker and Double Dragon Publishing books on her website.

Comment on all 26 DRAGON BLUES Release Party excerpts for a chance to win more free books! Winners will be announced on Monday, Feb. 28. If you'd like to look at the schedule of events, click here.

Release party excerpt & giveaway: THE SERGEANT'S LADY by Susanna Fraser

"This gritty, thoughtful story had me thinking about it long after I finished the book." – Barbara Vey, Beyond Her Book

"Susanna Fraser has created a splendid, emotionally charged love story you won't want to put down!" – The Season for Romance

Highborn Anna Arrington has been following the drum, obeying the wishes of her cold, controlling cavalry officer husband. When he dies, all she wants is to leave life with Wellington's army in Spain behind her and go home to her family's castle in Scotland.

Sergeant Will Atkins ran away from home to join the army in a fit of boyish enthusiasm. He is a natural born soldier, popular with officers and men alike, uncommonly brave and chivalrous, and educated and well-read despite his common birth.

As Anna journeys home with a convoy of wounded soldiers, she forms an unlikely friendship with Will. When the convoy is ambushed and their fellow soldiers captured, they become fugitives together. The attraction between them is strong, but even if they can escape the threat of death at the hands of the French, is love strong enough to bridge the gap between a viscount's daughter and an innkeeper's son?

Fiddle and flute took up a new tune, Scottish, fast and infectious. It reminded Anna of her girlhood at Dunmalcolm, of being sixteen and dancing to the skirling music of bagpipes with her cousins and the neighbors' sons in the castle ballroom. Her toes tapped of their own accord, and she saw that Sergeant Atkins's did the same.

Impulsively she sprang to her feet and extended her hands. "Dance with me, Sergeant," she said.

"No, ma'am. That wouldn't be fitting."

She beckoned again. "No one can see us here. Pretend we're at your squire's harvest dance, if you like."

"But to a song like this, with a lady such as yourself? Not fitting at all."

"What's wrong with this song? I've never heard one more made for dancing."

In the faint moonlight, she could just see his raised eyebrows. "You haven't heard the words."

She tossed her head. "I don't care what the words are. I must dance." Where was the harm? No one but the two of them would ever know. Anna longed for even a brief release from the tense propriety that had ruled her marriage and reigned over her still in widowhood. "Please, Sergeant Atkins," she implored.

He shook his head again, but rose and took her by the hand. His grip was warm and strong.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

With Sebastian she'd learned to separate her body from her mind and heart—to touch and be touched without feeling anything. So the jolt of warmth that shot down her spine at the sergeant's touch stunned her. Perhaps this was unwise.

No. It felt too wonderful. She wanted to laugh with pure joy. It was only a dance. How dangerous could it be?

At a ball they would have joined a line or square with other couples, barely touched and followed a prescribed set of steps. Outside that framework Anna hardly knew how to follow through on her own mad scheme. Fortunately, once persuaded, her partner took the lead. He caught her about the waist with one hand, clasped her hand with the other and whirled her into a series of quick steps.

The soldiers by the fire began to sing—something about a trooper lad arriving in town weary with riding on a moonlit night. Oh, this was more like it! Her sergeant was a grand dancer. Even in the dark, on unfamiliar ground, dancing in a close hold, she trusted his surefooted guidance.

The singers reached the chorus. Bonny lassie, I'll lie near you, hey bonny lassie, I'll lie near you. Anna flushed, but she had expected a bawdy song from Sergeant Atkins's warnings.

The next verses told how the lassie took the horse to the stable and the trooper to her table and fed them each their dinners. Anna looked up. In the moonlight she could see a twinkle in her partner's eyes, and he grinned at her. Despite his initial reluctance, he was enjoying this too. She let the music carry her along, feeling as if she were flying. Every time he pressed his fingers against her waist to guide her she shivered. She felt the sergeant's stripes sewn onto the sleeve of his rough wool jacket and beneath it the strong, lean muscles of his arm.

She went upstairs to make the bed,

And she made it soft and easy.

She's pulled her petticoats o'er her head,

Crying, soldier, are you ready?

Anna gasped.

Sergeant Atkins laughed. "Told you."

Fiddle and flute took up a new tune, Scottish, fast and infectious. It reminded Anna of her girlhood at Dunmalcolm, of being sixteen and dancing to the skirling music of bagpipes with her cousins and the neighbors' sons in the castle ballroom. Her toes tapped of their own accord, and she saw that Sergeant Atkins's did the same.

Impulsively she sprang to her feet and extended her hands. "Dance with me, Sergeant," she ordered.

"No, ma'am. That wouldn't be fitting."

She beckoned again. "No one can see us here. Pretend we're at your squire's harvest dance, if you like."

"But to a song like this, with a lady such as yourself? Not fitting at all."

"What's wrong with this song? I've never heard one more made for dancing."

In the faint moonlight, she could just see his raised eyebrows. "You haven't heard the words."

She tossed her head. "I don't care what the words are. I must dance." Where was the harm? No one but the two of them would ever know. Anna longed for even a brief release from the tense propriety that had ruled her marriage and reigned over her still in widowhood. "Please, Sergeant Atkins," she implored.

He shook his head again, but rose and took her by the hand. His grip was warm and strong.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

With Sebastian she'd learned to separate her body from her mind and heart—to touch and be touched without feeling anything. So the jolt of warmth that shot down her spine at the sergeant's touch stunned her. Perhaps this was unwise.

No. It felt too wonderful. She wanted to laugh with pure joy. It was only a dance. How dangerous could it be?

At a ball they would have joined a line or square with other couples, barely touched and followed a prescribed set of steps. Outside that framework Anna hardly knew how to follow through on her own mad scheme. Fortunately, once persuaded, her partner took the lead. He caught her about the waist with one hand, clasped her hand with the other and whirled her into a series of quick steps.

The soldiers by the fire began to sing—something about a trooper lad arriving in town weary with riding on a moonlit night. Oh, this was more like it! Her sergeant was a grand dancer. Even in the dark, on unfamiliar ground, dancing in a close hold, she trusted his surefooted guidance.

The singers reached the chorus. Bonny lassie, I'll lie near you, hey bonny lassie, I'll lie near you. Anna flushed, but she had expected a bawdy song from Sergeant Atkins's warnings.

The next verses told how the lassie took the horse to the stable and the trooper to her table and fed them each their dinners. Anna looked up. In the moonlight she could see a twinkle in her partner's eyes, and he grinned at her. Despite his initial reluctance, he was enjoying this too. She let the music carry her along, feeling as if she were flying. Every time he pressed his fingers against her waist to guide her she shivered. She felt the sergeant's stripes sewn onto the sleeve of his rough wool jacket and beneath it the strong, lean muscles of his arm.

She went upstairs to make the bed,

And she made it soft and easy.

She's pulled her petticoats o'er her head,

Crying, soldier, are you ready?

Anna gasped.

Sergeant Atkins laughed. "Told you."

"You did," she admitted.

"It gets worse."

How was that possible? This was scandalous—but she had all but forced it upon him. She could not in justice complain.

Buy the book: Carina Press, Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes&Noble

Susanna will give away a Kindle version of THE SERGEANT'S LADY to one lucky commenter. Her next Carina Press book, A MARRIAGE OF INCONVENIENCE, will be available on April 11th. Find out more about Susanna Fraser and her books at her website.

Comment on all 26 DRAGON BLUES Release Party excerpts for a chance to win more free books! Winners will be announced on Monday, Feb. 28. If you'd like to look at the schedule of events, click here.