Shannan Albright's Blog, page 32
February 17, 2012
Author Spotlight Special Tori Michaels
Get all settled in for a great day with Tory Michaels, fellow Evernight author and awesome talent. I am so excited to have her here with me today sharing her newest release. And she is offering you a chance to win her book Blood Rage PLUS a $5.00 Amazon Gift Card!
Entering is easy just leave a comment on my blog. Tory will be naming the winner in one week so you have plenty of time to tell all your friends.
BLURB:For eighty years since the Great Awakening, humans and non-humans have lived in relative peace together. The peace is threatened when three bodies turn up less than a mile from the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs in Tampa, all bearing the signature of vampires who once terrorized Europe. The Bureau's chief liaison to the vampires, Dara MacKechnie, learns that the Tampa victims are not alone when her ex-lover, and head of the vampire's Great Council, Anthony Caldwell comes calling. The pair discovers the lie that separated them two centuries ago only banked their passion, not extinguished it. Dara must decide whether she can trust Anthony with her heart a second time as they try to head off the war that threatens all they hold dear.
TEASER:
Chapter OneFrom the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs' FAQ Page: Telepaths Question: What should I do if I catch a telepath (species unimportant) using telepathy to read my mind and steal my personal information?Answer: Call your local Bureau office immediately. The Privacy Act of 1974 makes it illegal for anyone to scan another person without a court order. Such orders may be granted to determine guilt or innocence of a crime, if requested by the accused.
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Dara rolled her eyes at her assistant's lazy inquiry as she paced in front of the elevator. "About three hours later than it is here, which means you're probably in the middle of a date, Ronnie, not in bed." A delicate giggle escaped the other woman before she said, "Who says I'm not in bed in the middle of my date, darlin'?" "Spare me. Just swear to me, one last time, he's not on the guest list." Her assistant groaned loudly, likely for effect on whoever the lucky man was to emphasize her put-upon status. "Dara, you're calling me at nearly eleven at night to bug me about that man again?" The elevator doors "swooshed" open in invitation. Unwilling to risk losing her connection because she suspected Ronnie would ignore any subsequent call, Dara shook her head at the car's occupants and spun to stalk down the hall toward her suite door. "Please, just tell me he's not going to be here!" She heard the whine in her voice. How could she be so pathetic? Two hundred years of life experience should give me more dignity than this. She could practically see the other woman's eyes roll as she said, "According to the Society's president's secretary when I talked to her three hours ago in anticipation of this discussion, no. Anthony Caldwell declined his invitation three weeks ago and has made no attempt to reverse that decision." Dara's shoulders slumped in relief. Everything would be fine then. No known child-killers in attendance at the Society's 80th Anniversary Bash made for a good evening. "All right, thanks," she murmured in genuine appreciation. "How'd the LeTourneau dress look when you put it on?" She blinked at the abrupt change in topic, and her gaze dropped to her half-bared chest where fluorescent lights glinted off the pale, ropey scars that marred the surface. "I feel like an overstuffed sausage, Ronnie. I wore a corset when they were fashionable and hated them. I almost needed one today to get into this infernal outfit." So she exaggerated, a little. Ronnie snickered, and Dara heard a low male whisper in the background. "I don't need my powers, or a picture, to know you're lying to me. Sarah would never put you in anything that didn't look spectacular. Go make your speech, darling. Tell me all about it when you get back to Tampa." Dara slowly pressed the disconnect button and wandered back toward the elevator with a sigh. Ronnie was right, knowing Dara's insecurities about her appearance entirely too well. Sarah, the last descendant of her little sister, Caila, had exquisite fashion taste. The LeTourneau dress, the first and only one she'd ever bought from the exclusive werewolf designer, was a new purchase, bought specifically for this party. Attending the Bash on behalf of the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs certainly hadn't been Dara's idea. But when invited as the honoree and keynote speaker, one must attend, especially when one's boss said to go or be fired. Therefore, she'd allowed the Society to fly her out, put her up in the exclusive Bearings Hotel and Casino for three nights with Sarah, and had agreed to give a single speech and attend a ball afterward in exchange. Overall, it really was a good deal for her. The short, enforced vacation offered her an escape from the wet heat of Florida in late August. She pressed the down-button on the elevator and tapped her foot with just the first hint of impatience. Less than thirty minutes remained before her speech. As the keynote speaker, she didn't intend to show up until she had to, to avoid the inevitable attention that would be focused on her. At least Anthony's absence was assured.
**** "Would you care for another drink, Mr. Caldwell?" Anthony looked up from the blackjack table as the leggy blond waitress leaned over to ask her question. He gave her a lazy smile and finished the last of his blood and gin, noting the faint flush that spread across her cheeks. Another lifetime, perhaps he might have asked for her phone number, but not now. Not when his objective of so many years was almost at hand. "No. Thank you just the same, madam." She flashed him a smile that revealed just a hint of fangs and sauntered off. He eyed the long legs for a moment more and repressed a scowl that he felt nothing at turning down what could have been a very pleasurable evening if he'd accepted the implied invitation. What was the world coming to? "Ante up, gentlemen," the dealer said. After a glance at the rose-gold, Atlas watch around his right wrist, Anthony shook his head. "I'm out. Duty calls." Duty didn't call, not yet anyway, but the time was close enough at hand that his conscience didn't prick him for the slight inaccuracy. If he intended to track down his quarry before they met in the ballroom, he needed to go. His senses, on constant alert in the crowded casino, had yet to detect her, but she couldn't be much longer. Even she wouldn't be late to a ceremony intended to honor her. Then again, when has Athdara Genevieve ever been on time for anything? he thought with faint amusement. He closed his eyes for a moment to filter through the hundreds of minds pressing in around him from around the casino. For a younger vampire, it would have taken much longer. After more than twelve hundred years of practice, it didn't present that great a challenge, regardless of the population density. About to give up the current search, he paused when he recognized her presence. Anthony turned. With little effort, thanks to his height, he looked across the main room to see her just exiting the elevator. The breath he didn't need to draw in caught in his throat. It had been sixty years since their paths had crossed, a deliberate move on his part out of respect for the hatred, however well-deserved, she held for him. Sixty long, boring years. Athdara looked the same of course, eternally twenty-six as a vampire. Unfashionably curvy, lush, and perfect. She'd pulled her long red hair back in an ugly braid. The coiffure failed to detract from the fragile face. So many hours spent brushing that hair. She wore a long, black satin ball gown, Le Tourneau if he were any judge, that swished when she moved past a bank of bleeping and flashing slot machines. Anthony allowed a trace of a smile to curve his mouth upward, and he turned toward the staircase leading to a landing that would give him an unimpeded view of the main room. Now to have some fun.
**** Dara spared a glance at the delicate diamond and emerald watch attached to her wrist. Twenty-six minutes, plenty of time for some blackjack before she went to the ballroom. Her best friend, Chris, who was attending with Sarah, would text if the speaker ahead of her moved more quickly than the program indicated. If nothing else, gambling would take her mind off the unpleasantness to come. Her hand trembled a little as it fell back to her side, the first hint of nerves. God, why do I agree to these things? I detest public speaking. As she approached the tables, something felt off. She saw nothing concrete, no sign of anyone acting out of place, but instinct guided her. After falling in love with a murderer, she always paid attention when she got that little tingle at the base of her neck. Other than a dapper human who seemed fascinated by the expansive view of her breasts that the low-cut gown offered, no one seemed to be looking in her direction. Such realization didn't alleviate the impression someone was watching. The moment passed, and Dara shook her head in annoyance. "You're paranoid, girl," she said to herself. "Ronnie said he won't be here." Her palms itched, and unease returned as she reached the tables. Her eyes narrowed warily. Someone was definitely watching her. But who? And from where? She brushed her tongue against one of her razor-sharp fangs, took a deep breath, and brought her mental barriers down. Few other vampires her age would dare lower the protective barriers that blocked out the chaotic mishmash of thoughts from other beings when amongst a large gathering. She prided herself on her strength, the only gift from her unknown sire that she was grateful for.
Well, I for one am going to put this on my TBR pile!
Doyou do anything to get you into the zone to write?
Drink coffee, read blogs and feed demanding twins who like toget up for food in the wee hours of the morning (when it's first thing in themorning, aka 3:30-4:00a) or drive in to the office (for my hour if I'm luckypre-work writing session).
Which authors inspire your writing?
Christine Feehan, Christina Dodd, Sherrilyn Kenyon, KimHarrison, Keri Arthur, and JD Robb. New, more recent favorites include CheriseSinclair <blush>, Alyssa Fox, and Alyssa Day.
Oh, wait, you asked about inspiration – well, okay, some ofthose do inspire me, I have to say. The others are just in my "favoriteauthors" list (and it was not all-inclusive).
Whatis your favorite book, character and why?
I have to pick just ONE?! But, upon obtaining clarification of the question (biggestimpact/impression on me), I've got a surprising answer to it. The bookcharacter that scared me the MOST, because he was so well written (at least inthe first book, and at times in later books) was Nicolae, from the Left Behindseries. Specifically, in the scene at the end of Left Behind (book one in theLB series), where he's at the UN.
Let's just say I didn't sleep well that night. Read the entireseries because of the strength of that one book (later books were not nearly asgood, though there were a few that were pretty good).
Doyou prefer to write erotic or sweet?
Pure sweet – no, but I'm definitely on the lower end of thesweet to erotic spectrum.
Whichfamous person, living or dead, are youdrawn to?
Hrmm, I don't really feel connected or drawn to almost anyonefamous. Sorry, I wish I had a better answer. Maybe Akhenaton (fascinatingpharaoh in ancient Egypt), or Lady Jane Grey (as based in the movie of the samename – I find the idea of a 9-day queen fascinating).
Wheredo you see yourself in five years?
Still in Jacksonville, I hope. On the writing side of things,hopefully with a nice following and at least 10 books published.
Finishthis sentence: I know I've made it when_______________?
When I see my books on the shelf at either Barnes & Noble orWalmart.
Whatadvice would you give aspiring writers?
Be patient. Don't query or submit too soon. I've done both, andwhile in one case it still worked out, most of the time it doesn't.
Whatdo you see yourself writing in the future?
Probably continuing to stay with the urban fantasy and/orparanormal romance, though probably with a futuristic bent in some of them. Imight try a fantasy series too. I doubt I could ever do just straightcontemporary romance. It just doesn't hold my attention, either to read orwrite (Harlequin Presents doesn't count).
Ifyou could have one superpower what would it be and why?
Super speed or the ability to freeze time (I could get a LOTmore done).
Whattime of the day are you at your best to write?
Morning. I'm too tired by the time the day winds up and thespawn are all in bed.
Andnow for something completely different…
Whatdo you look at first with an attractive man or woman, face, body or smile?
The smile is part of the face. Followed by a total package check(no, not that package, people).
Explainyour perfect day.
It starts with sleeping a straight 8-10 hours, no crying babies.An elaborate breakfast with perfect, well-mannered children (after which Iwonder what aliens possessed them), a chance to spend happy play time withthem, followed by a nice quiet writing sessions, a pleasant dinner and then,um, lights-out time. <cough> With hubby.
Whatis the most decadent desert you can't say no to?
Chocolate lava cake.
Doyou have a favorite holiday what is it and what makes it special to you?
I'm not a holiday girl. I s'pose at this point it's Halloween. Valentine'sis up there in appreciation, given I met the hubby on the day before V-Day.
Whatkey words describe you best?
Punctual. Restless.
February 16, 2012
Author Spotlights Ginger Simpson
Welcome to my corner of the internet Ginger, so glad to have you here with us today. Ginger has been very busy and has just released her newest book Embezzled Love, which I'm tickled to tell you all she will be giving away to one of you.
Anyone who leaves a comment along with their email address prior to 9:30 PM CST on the date of this post will be entered into a drawing.
Ginger will leave a final comment after 10:00 p.m. CST on this same blog, and alsonotify the winner via email.
Blurb
They advertise on television—"find your true love; we'll match you with the person of your dreams." Their irritating spam clogs your computer inbox—"free tonight? Let's chat." You can turn the channel or hit the 'trash' button, but the promises still linger in your mind. Is it any wonder divorced and lonely, Cassie Fremont, signed up for an on-line dating service? What later shocked her was cost of the ticket for a ride on the roller coaster from hell. ExcerptThe elevator opened and whisked them to their floor. They found their room, and Evan slid the key card in the lock. He opened the door. His extended arm blocked her path. She eyed him curiously. "Well, let me in."
"You know, we could go get married first, and then I could carry you over the threshold."
Her breath caught in her throat. Surely he wasn't serious. "Not tonight, I have a headache," she joked.
"I guess that's a no." The dejected look on his face told her his proposal had been serious.
"Oh, Evan, when and if we get married, I don't want it to be some cheap chapel in Las Vegas. I want my family…"
The rift! Pain tugged at her heart and she narrowed her attendance list. "My mom would kill me if I got married and she wasn't there."
Evan seemed to recover quickly. "Then let's drop these bags and go get rich."
A wave of relief swept over Cassie. She'd gotten out of that predicament easier than she expected. Standing in the middle of the posh but overdone room, she announced. "I'm ready when you are."
On the ride back down in the elevator Cassie stifled a giggle. Suddenly she felt like a little kid going to Disneyland. Maybe it was because of the different environment, or just feeling free for the moment. Whatever it was, she intended to enjoy it.
When the doors parted, Evan made a beeline for a bank of dollar slots. Cassie glanced down at her still-extended hand, surprised he hadn't taken hold of it. Maybe he felt the same excitement she experienced. She followed behind and stood at his shoulder, watching. He had already deposited money and was eagerly pulling the handle. The reels spun wildly, blurring the images of cherries, plums and the elusive sevens. When the tumblers stopped, a loud bell sounded, and Evan turned and smiled, pointing at the three bars that had aligned perfectly across the screen. "Look at that, I'm a winner."
Cassie quickly scanned the colorful pay schedule looking for Evan's reward. "Wow, five hundred dollars! Baby, you're pretty lucky at this."
Evan pulled out his wallet and handed Cassie several bills—big ones. "Here, take this and find a paying machine." He stuffed his billfold back in his pocket and immediately grasped the slot handle.
She pulled out the stool next to him. "This one looks good." She sat.
The crease in his forehead showed his displeasure. "No, I meant go somewhere else. I don't like people watching me when I gamble."
Shocked, Cassie stood. She was speechless.
Evan raised up just high enough to graze her cheek with a kiss. "You understand, don't you, baby girl? It's an anxiety performance thing."
No, she didn't understand, but she wasn't going to hang around where she wasn't wanted. Clutching the bills he'd given her, she ambled off in search of another place to sit. Somehow her excitement had waned. Just a little while ago he'd wanted to marry her and now he didn't even want her sitting next to him. She let go of the hurt. She'd turned down his offer of marriage, so now they were even.
She eyed the dollar slots but decided she wasn't ready for that denomination just yet. Quarters, would do. She unrolled the wad, looking for something smaller than a hundred but all five were the same. Cassie summoned a roving attendant and got change, then inserted twenty into her machine. She tucked the remaining bills in her pocket. It wasn't long before she was lost in the hypnotic spinning of the reels—unfortunately there were no bells sounding for her and she had lost far more than she planned.
Her eyes grew tired from the never ending blur of whirling fruit. Dare she go back and check on Evan? It had been hours and he hadn't come looking for her. Surely he wouldn't mind if she checked in. She'd forgotten her watch but was sure it was close to 3:00 a.m. Why didn't they put clocks in casinos? Even without knowing the true hour, it had been a long day and she was ready for bed.
The machine where Evan had sat earlier was empty. Cassie eagerly scanned the casino for him. In comparison to the earlier crowded room, only a handful of late-night gamblers remained. Cass walked up and down each bank of slot machines and perused each table, but Evan was no where to be found. Her heart rate increased with panic. Where could he be? Maybe he went upstairs.
She traced the outline of the room card in her pant's pocket, and headed for the elevator. On the way up, she pondered why Evan didn't come find her. Her heart beat hard against her chest.
At the room, she struggled to get the key into the narrow slit, and when she walked inside, her heart sank. Evan wasn't there. Driven by feelings of disappointment and frustration, Cass expelled a large whoosh of air and plopped on the king-sized bed. She sorted through her options, enveloped by a feeling of helplessness. Where would she start to look? Should she report him missing? Maybe just wait. The latter choice was her least favorite but the most logical. There were dozens of casinos—hundreds maybe—and she had no idea where to search. If she wasn't so worried she might really be pissed. She stretched out on the bed and stared hopelessly at the ceiling. The acoustical dots ran together, creating crazy patterns, and finally, blurred.
Extraordinary brightness attempted to creep beneath Cassie's closed lids—she turned over and sleepily opened her eyes. She wrinkled her nose at the offensive light and realized it was morning. The room-darkening draperies only worked if someone closed them. The bright ascending sun spread fiery fingers across the sky and penetrated the hotel room's drape-less window. Still half-asleep, Cassie checked for evidence that Evan had returned—still no sign of him. Her stomach knotted as she glanced at the clock on the nightstand—7:00 a.m. Surely something awful had happened to him. There was no way he would let her worry for this long.
Doyou do anything to get you into the zone to write?
Mycharacters are my inspiration. I counton them to be 'in the zone,' or I'm dead in the water. As long as they talk, I'm listening, andtyping.
Which authors inspire your writing?
Ialways give credit to Laura Ingalls Wilder for inspiring my love of thehistorical genre, and it's because of reading all her books, that I have thedrive to recreate the old west for my readers. As I grew older, I migrated to the works of Cassie Edwards and MaddyBaker, who continued to inspire me with more adult-related material, andalthough they may not know it, they have both been valuable mentors.
Whatis your favorite book, character and why?
I'massuming you mean one of my own, and although it's hard to choose because Ilove them all, I think I'll select Sarah's Journey. My heroine possesses all the traits I aspireto have, and has the strength and fairness I hope people see in me. We all put a little of ourselves in our heroines, combining our best with ourshortcomings to create the perfect person.
Doyou prefer to write erotic or sweet?
I'ma closed door kinda gal when it comes to bedroom scenes. Although I have written one Erotic offeringunder a pen name, Searchers, was undoubtedly the most difficult book I'vewritten. Some of my books may contain aspicy scene or two, but for the past part, I write only sweet romance. If you ask why, I'd have to say that I'venever had the confidence in myself as a sexual being, and I think that's prettykey to writing from an intimate perspective.
Whichfamous person, living or dead, are you drawn to?
Youknow, I sat and stared at this question for the longest time and finallydecided I'm not really drawn to anyone. I have friends with admirable traits, and I also respect and envy manypeople who have passed on. I've neverbeen one impressed by fame because I truly believe that achieving that statuscomes from being in the right place at the right time or knowing the rightperson. There are many authors today whodeserve the same notoriety of those published by mainstream, but haven't hadthe same good fortune as others. I liveby a saying that has helped me tremendously, "life is an attitude, have a goodone." I try to get through each day asit comes and pray I serve as an example to others. Kinda deep, I know, but true.
Wheredo you see yourself in five years? Hopefully alive and healthy. Ifyou'd ask me that twenty-five years ago, I might have had a different answer,but since I just turned sixty-six, I find myself valuing each day more andmore.
Finishthis sentence: I know I've made it when_______________?
Inmy mind, I've already "made it." I neverexpected to sign one, let along twenty-six contracts, so although my name maynot be bandied around in the same circles with Nora Roberts, I'm very proud ofmy accomplishments. Not bad for an broad.
Whatadvice would you give aspiring writers?
Listen,learn, and toughen up. Believe inyourself, and when you take suggestions, use only those which don't change yourvoice. We are all unique in our own way.
Whatdo you see yourself writing in the future?
Whatevermy characters dictate. I rely totally onthe voices in my head to guide me. Sofar, they haven't steered me wrong.
Ifyou could have one superpower what would it be and why?
Ianswered this same question yesterday on another interview so I'm sticking withthat answer. I'd like to be invisible soI can see what my daughter-in-law does all day instead of housework. J
Whattime of the day are you at your best to write?
Ido my best work late at night. I'vealways been a night owl and I enjoy the freedom that comes with being alone.
And now for somethingcompletely different…
Whatdo you look at first with an attractive man or woman, face, body or smile?
Totallya butt person. Isn't that weird? There was a bumper sticker a few years back Ibelieve someone created for me. "Wrangler Butts Drive Me Nuts!"
Explainyour perfect day.
Ihave one every day. When you live pastan age you expected never to see, every day is special. A good friend says, "any day on this side ofthe grass is a good one," and that's so true. Now that my children are grown and I've retired, I can do pretty muchwhatever I want. I have a wonderful husband, a nice home, good health, and aGood Lord who watches over me. Whatcould be better than that?
Whatis the most decadent desert you can't say no to?
Iabsolutely love Pig Pickin' Cake. I'musually a "salt" person, but that cake gets me every time.
Doyou have a favorite holiday what is it and what makes it special to you?
Christmasis and has always been my favorite holiday. I believe it's special because of all the memories I share fromchildhood, especially ones where my father always declared we'd wait untilmorning to open our gifts, then started the landslide of wrapping paper onChristmas Eve with his "we'll just open one." God, I miss him.
Whatkey words describe you best?
Trustworthy,funny, compassionate, loving.
Thankyou, Shannon, for allowing me time and space on your blog. I enjoyed your interview questions, and Ihope you'll invite me back sometime.
Want more of Ginger's Books? Just follow her links below.
Links:
http://www.gingersimpson.com
http://mizging.blogspot.com
http://cowboykisses.blogspot.com
http://www.facebook.com/mizging
http://www.twitter.com/mizging
February 15, 2012
Naughty After Dark Blog Festivities
Got the after Valentienes Day doldrums? Did you eat too much chocolate and now find you feel like a beached whale? Well, have I got the thing for you. Hot, lucious and oh, so naughty. The best part about it is it's calorie free. So indulge to you hearts desire.
Join me and over one hundred other authors and bloggers for a chance to win hot, hot books. I will be giving one lucky person a PDF copy of Dark Passions Rising: A Dark Breed Novel. Get up to speed for the second in the series, Passion's Flight, coming at the end of the month. Heres a sneak peak at Dark Passions Rising.
Tambra Ellis has just had her world turned upside down! Surviving a bite from a Lycan, attracted to one hot vampire guy and now she has to look forward to turning into something from some bad werewolf movie.
Marcus Valerian has enough on his plate without the added complication of Tambra Ellis. Fiery and independent? Sure. Beautiful with a body made for sin? Oh Yeah. And a human cop. Tambra is everything he needs to stay away from.
As leader of the Tribunal's enforcers it's up to him to find out why the Dark Breeds are going feral and killing humans in ever increasing numbers. Tambra's life is in the balance as the secrets of her past place her in the middle of old deceits and a betrayal that will change the world forever.
Will Marcus and Tambra's love survive or will it be too late.EXCERPT:Tambra gave him an incredulous look. "Are you telling me I am turning into a…a dog?" She jumped up, pulling the comforter around her, and headed for the door. "Look buddy, I don't know what your damage is, but I want no part of it, okay? I'll just call a cab and be on my way." Marcus moved to the door in a burst of speed, and stopped with his arms folded across his chest, lips compressed into a thin line as he glared at her. He drew his brows low in a scowl."W…what the hell are you?" she stammered, unable to mask her unease. "I am not here to harm you. I have been the one tending to you as your body adjusted." "You haven't answered my question," she pushed. "That's because it's not relevant to the situation." "Like hell, asshole. If it affects me then it is my business." Marcus liked her toughness, finding it remarkably refreshing. Her strength was impressive, not many could make it through the beginning stages of the change when turning from human to Were, yet she had fought through it. She had overcome it all, despite how badly she had been injured. He used his most reasonable tone to calm her, knowing that the next few minutes was crucial to keeping her receptive to what he had to say. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making his tone as calm as he could manage. "At this time the only thing we need to focus on is your change. You are not out of the woods as of yet. There are too many things that could go wrong." Her eyes widened in horror as she took a shaky step backward. "Oh, God. This isn't happening. It can't be real. Werewolves don't exist." "Believe me, they do exist. Denying what you have seen will be foolish and dangerous, for you and everyone you're around." "No. I don't believe this. I won't believe it. There has to be some logical explanation for what I saw." The sharp edge of hysteria rose in her voice. "I will not turn into a dog. I don't even like dogs." That made him smile despite the seriousness of the situation. She was absolutely adorable and he was in deep shit because of it. Yet, he couldn't seem to make himself care. "Wolf, not dog. You were bitten by a Lycan, not Lassie." "Ha, ha, laugh it up big guy. You don't have to worry about fleas."
Available now at:Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/products/Dark-Passion-Rising-by-Shannan-Albright.htmlAmazon Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Passion-Rising-Breed-Novel-ebook/dp/B004TNGO5E/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_2Book Strand: http://www.bookstrand.com/shannan-albright1Place for Romance: http://1placeforromance.com/index.php?column=author&searchMe=Shannan%20Albright&_a=viewCat
February 14, 2012
Coffee Times Romance Chat
Just a quick reminder will be at Coffee Times Romance Chat tonight at 5pm Pacific Time
Come by and win a chance at a PDF of Beloved Wizard.
Arthur and his Knights are back and ready to kick ass!
Merci Tramaine is not happy to be called back into service by her old boss Arthur, especially when she is charged to find her missing ex lover. Drake Monroe is Merlin reincarnated, with his powers bound by the Goddess Nimue he has become a skilled fighter, but no match for Nimue who kidnapped him determined to destroy him forever.The bloodline of Morgan Le Fey taints Merci keeping her on the edge between light and dark, the Goddess's wicked trap springs shut leaving both Drake and Merci racing against the clock. Passions ignite once again, but are they too late to plan a future or will they be torn from each other? This time for eternity.
Come by and win a chance at a PDF of Beloved Wizard.
Arthur and his Knights are back and ready to kick ass!
Merci Tramaine is not happy to be called back into service by her old boss Arthur, especially when she is charged to find her missing ex lover. Drake Monroe is Merlin reincarnated, with his powers bound by the Goddess Nimue he has become a skilled fighter, but no match for Nimue who kidnapped him determined to destroy him forever.The bloodline of Morgan Le Fey taints Merci keeping her on the edge between light and dark, the Goddess's wicked trap springs shut leaving both Drake and Merci racing against the clock. Passions ignite once again, but are they too late to plan a future or will they be torn from each other? This time for eternity.
Tuesday Tidbits Happy Valentines Day Special
Happy Valentine's day everyone!
Here's a few inspiring pics to get you in the spirit of the holiday.
I hope you all have a fantastic day, for me I've traded my dark chocolates for hand weights and Jullian Michaels 30 Day Shred DVD. Finished my first day and found muscles I never knew I had. Ouch! What we do to get back into a size 7! Don't know if I'll make it in time for RomCon at the end of June, but I should be pretty darn close. (If I survive that is.)
Well I just finished Romancing the Valentine Blog Hop and here I am getting ready for the next one which begins tomorrow 2/15! Gearing up for my upcoming release Passion's Flight and have quite a big month long promotion for it starting March 1st.
I other news, my second novella in the Knights of Excalibur will be in my editors hands by the end of this month and the third I hope will follow in April. I'm also finishing up my full length novel The Summoning. I have started a second novel called Demon Bewitched hope to have it out by early 2013 if not earlier. And for those who are fans of my Dark Breed series, Zeke's book is being outlined and getting ready to start and hope to have it to you sometime within this year. And this is just the big projects I've got a few small short stories I'm working on for a few anthologies this year, if time allows. I hope you are enjoying my Authors Spotlights and will continue to share the awesome talent I happen to be lucky enough to have met up with. This week I have two spotlights in store for you. Ginger Simpson will be with me on Thursday and she is giving away a new release. then on Friday Tori Michaels is my guest on Friday 2/17.
Well, now I feel truly inspired so it's back to work. Have a wonderful week.
February 9, 2012
Author Spotlights Tricia Schneider
Welcome my guest for this weeks spotlight Tricia Schneider. Grab a comfy chair and get to know a great writer I'm sure you will be putting on your TBR pile!
Blurb:
Melora Merriweather is searching for a fellow witch to protect her from a scheming uncle with plans of marriage. When her carriage overturns on her journey, she is rescued by a mysterious man whom she learns is the very person she seeks. But, he's not the witch she thought he was…Sebastian Collins should have left for London days ago. Now a snowstorm has trapped him with a woman who has come seeking protection, a woman who intrigues him like no other. And with each passing hour, his hunger for her grows…hunger for her kiss, her caress, and her blood.
Excerpt:
"You are Sebastian Collins? Of Caldwell House?" she asked. Had she made some horrible mistake? Who knew how old this letter might be? There had been no date written on any of them. Could this have come from a previous owner of the single address she had managed to discover leading her here? But, no, it could not be possible. Her dreams never misled her.
"Indeed, I am," he answered, relieving her fears. He paused briefly, and then continued, "But there is no Mrs. Collins."
Comprehension dawned. The blush of embarrassment and dread crept up her neck. To her surprise, Mr. Collins stiffened in agitation."I-I am truly sorry," she stated, suddenly understanding his reaction. At least, now it made sense why Mrs. Collins never entered her dreams. "I had not realized she had passed. I apologize for the grief I have surely inflicted on you."
"No, no," he said, with a shake of his head. He appeared to have difficulty speaking for a moment until at last, with a deep breath, he reclaimed his composure. Still, he kept his eyes cast down, toward the fire. "You fail to understand. I have never married."
Melora stared at him. Confused, she looked again at the letter in her hand. "But the letters…?"
This time, his head snapped up, and he looked in her direction. She inhaled sharply at the sight of his light blue eyes staring at her. Into her. Through her. Sharp. Piercing. As if he searched her soul for the answers to his questions.
Do you do anything to get you into the zone to write? I use visualization. I try thinking about my story throughout the day, then when it's time for me to write, I'm ready to tackle the next scene. When I sit down to write, I'll go back two or three pages, re-read what I wrote and then jump right in.
Which authors inspire your writing?There are several who inspire me, such as Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, Daphne duMaurier and Stephen King to name a few. Lately, I've taken an interest in Kelley Armstrong. Her writing and world-building amaze me! Her stories captivate and intrigue and her characters are so well-rounded they leap off the page and become like real people. Not to mention how prolific she has become. She writes paranormal novels and short stories of varied length.
What is your favorite book, character and why? Oh, to narrow an avid reader's favorite book down to only one is simply cruel! I have too many to name! But, the book that most influenced my writing is Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. This gothic novel is full of romance, mystery and suspense, as well as having a historical English setting. And my heart goes out to Mr. Rochester. He is a passionate man tortured by his secrets and his love for Jane.
Do you prefer to write erotic or sweet?I suppose I'm somewhere in between…sensual perhaps? Steamy? Okay, okay, more erotic and not at all sweet!
Which famous person, living or dead, are you drawn to?Gerard Butler. I'm definitely drawn him! Most of my heroes happen to look like him, too. You know, just in case my books are ever made into movies…
Where do you see yourself in five years?Traveling the world!! Or at least Europe. My husband and I visited Germany several years ago and we both desire to return. It was such a lovely place! I'm hoping in five years I'll have enough in savings for an extensive research trip. I would love to set some stories there. Of course, I'll still be writing in five years with several novels and short stories published.
Finish this sentence: I know I've made it when_______________?I can tell my husband to quit his job and stay home to watch the kids while I write full-time. I don't want to jinx myself, but I imagine my kids will probably be in college by the time that happens! Really, I just like to write stories that people read and enjoy. If I can do that without having to go get a 'real' job again, I'll know I made it.
What advice would you give aspiring writers?Just keep writing! I like to sing this to the tune of Dory's 'just keep swimming' from Finding Nemo to encourage myself. It's the best advice I've ever received. When you finish a manuscript and send it off to an editor, what do you do then? You write another story. Just keep writing, and writing, and writing. With each piece your writing improves, your skills sharpen, and you never know when the next story you write will be the one you get published. Never give up!
What do you see yourself writing in the future?Whatever I write there will be romance involved! My romance sub genre interests are varied, but the one thing that remains the same is the love story, whether it's historical, paranormal, suspense, futuristic, etc. Right now I'm writing paranormal romance in the Regency Era. I have a few other story ideas that are urban fantasy with romantic elements, of course, and young adult paranormal romance. It's something I might consider.
If you could have one superpower what would it be and why?Super speed-reading powers! I have an enormous TBR list and so many new books are being published every day. My writing takes away from my reading time, so it would be nice to read super fast, to get a book done in say an hour instead of a couple days. OR maybe I should have super fast writing powers! Instead of taking six months (or more!) to write a novel, I could get it done in a day. Yeah, that's way better!
What time of the day are you at your best to write?My writing times are flexible. I have 3 young children (ages 16 months, 4 & 5). Usually, I try to write at night after my kids are asleep, but there is the likely chance that I will fall asleep completely exhausted from my busy day. Lately, I've been writing during the day while my children are napping. That seems to be working better. So far! Next month, my schedule might change again! I sort of go with the flow these days.
And now for something completely different…
What do you look at first with an attractive man or woman, face, body or smile?Explain your perfect day.Oh, I can really get imaginative for this one! But, I'll keep it simple. My husband doing ALL of the housework, cooking meals, and watching/playing with our kids which will allow me time to sleep in during the morning (that alone would be nice!) and write the rest of the day.
What is the most decadent dessert you can't say no to?Coffee flavored ice cream with bits of chocolate chips on top of warm from the oven cake-like brownies, all smothered with hot fudge. With a cherry on top. Oh, yum!
Do you have a favorite holiday what is it and what makes it special to you?Christmas is my favorite. I love the decorations, the music, the 'feeling' of it. And I really enjoy giving gifts. It's such a pleasure to watch someone opening a gift. I enjoy the smiles and laughter.
What key words describe you best?Rose-colored glasses. Daydreamer. Romantic.
Want more of Tricia? Here is where you can find her
To buy: The Wild Rose Presshttp://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=177_136&products_id=4422For more information about Tricia and her books visit her website.http://www.triciaschneider.com/
February 8, 2012
Evernight February Releases
Thanks for coming by. Here is a sneak peak of just a few of this months releases from Evernight Publishing. I am so pleased to be among these incredibly talented authors this month. Yep, the second Dark Breed book, Passion's Flight will be out this month and this is a first look at it. You can find these books at:
Evernight Publishing
BlurbFor eighty years since the Great Awakening, humans and non-humans have lived in relative peace together. The peace is threatened when three bodies turn up less than a mile from the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs in Tampa, all bearing the signature of vampires who once terrorized Europe. The Bureau's chief liaison to the vampires, Dara MacKechnie, learns that the Tampa victims are not alone when her ex-lover, and head of the vampire's Great Council, Anthony Caldwell comes calling.The pair discovers the lie that separated them two centuries ago only banked their passion, not extinguished it. Dara must decide whether she can trust Anthony with her heart a second time as they try to head off the war that threatens all they hold dear.
Teaser:Chapter OneFrom the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs' FAQ Page: Telepaths Question: What should I do if I catch a telepath (species unimportant) using telepathy to read my mind and steal my personal information?Answer: Call your local Bureau office immediately. The Privacy Act of 1974 makes it illegal for anyone to scan another person without a court order. Such orders may be granted to determine guilt or innocence of a crime, if requested by the accused.
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Dara rolled her eyes at her assistant's lazy inquiry as she paced in front of the elevator. "About three hours later than it is here, which means you're probably in the middle of a date, Ronnie, not in bed." A delicate giggle escaped the other woman before she said, "Who says I'm not in bed in the middle of my date, darlin'?" "Spare me. Just swear to me, one last time, he's not on the guest list." Her assistant groaned loudly, likely for effect on whoever the lucky man was to emphasize her put-upon status. "Dara, you're calling me at nearly eleven at night to bug me about that man again?" The elevator doors "swooshed" open in invitation. Unwilling to risk losing her connection because she suspected Ronnie would ignore any subsequent call, Dara shook her head at the car's occupants and spun to stalk down the hall toward her suite door. "Please, just tell me he's not going to be here!" She heard the whine in her voice. How could she be so pathetic? Two hundred years of life experience should give me more dignity than this. She could practically see the other woman's eyes roll as she said, "According to the Society's president's secretary when I talked to her three hours ago in anticipation of this discussion, no. Anthony Caldwell declined his invitation three weeks ago and has made no attempt to reverse that decision." Dara's shoulders slumped in relief. Everything would be fine then. No known child-killers in attendance at the Society's 80th Anniversary Bash made for a good evening. "All right, thanks," she murmured in genuine appreciation. "How'd the LeTourneau dress look when you put it on?" She blinked at the abrupt change in topic, and her gaze dropped to her half-bared chest where fluorescent lights glinted off the pale, ropey scars that marred the surface. "I feel like an overstuffed sausage, Ronnie. I wore a corset when they were fashionable and hated them. I almost needed one today to get into this infernal outfit." So she exaggerated, a little. Ronnie snickered, and Dara heard a low male whisper in the background. "I don't need my powers, or a picture, to know you're lying to me. Sarah would never put you in anything that didn't look spectacular. Go make your speech, darling. Tell me all about it when you get back to Tampa." Dara slowly pressed the disconnect button and wandered back toward the elevator with a sigh. Ronnie was right, knowing Dara's insecurities about her appearance entirely too well. Sarah, the last descendant of her little sister, Caila, had exquisite fashion taste. The LeTourneau dress, the first and only one she'd ever bought from the exclusive werewolf designer, was a new purchase, bought specifically for this party. Attending the Bash on behalf of the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs certainly hadn't been Dara's idea. But when invited as the honoree and keynote speaker, one must attend, especially when one's boss said to go or be fired. Therefore, she'd allowed the Society to fly her out, put her up in the exclusive Bearings Hotel and Casino for three nights with Sarah, and had agreed to give a single speech and attend a ball afterward in exchange. Overall, it really was a good deal for her. The short, enforced vacation offered her an escape from the wet heat of Florida in late August. She pressed the down-button on the elevator and tapped her foot with just the first hint of impatience. Less than thirty minutes remained before her speech. As the keynote speaker, she didn't intend to show up until she had to, to avoid the inevitable attention that would be focused on her. At least Anthony's absence was assured.
**** "Would you care for another drink, Mr. Caldwell?" Anthony looked up from the blackjack table as the leggy blond waitress leaned over to ask her question. He gave her a lazy smile and finished the last of his blood and gin, noting the faint flush that spread across her cheeks. Another lifetime, perhaps he might have asked for her phone number, but not now. Not when his objective of so many years was almost at hand. "No. Thank you just the same, madam." She flashed him a smile that revealed just a hint of fangs and sauntered off. He eyed the long legs for a moment more and repressed a scowl that he felt nothing at turning down what could have been a very pleasurable evening if he'd accepted the implied invitation. What was the world coming to? "Ante up, gentlemen," the dealer said. After a glance at the rose-gold, Atlas watch around his right wrist, Anthony shook his head. "I'm out. Duty calls." Duty didn't call, not yet anyway, but the time was close enough at hand that his conscience didn't prick him for the slight inaccuracy. If he intended to track down his quarry before they met in the ballroom, he needed to go. His senses, on constant alert in the crowded casino, had yet to detect her, but she couldn't be much longer. Even she wouldn't be late to a ceremony intended to honor her. Then again, when has Athdara Genevieve ever been on time for anything? he thought with faint amusement. He closed his eyes for a moment to filter through the hundreds of minds pressing in around him from around the casino. For a younger vampire, it would have taken much longer. After more than twelve hundred years of practice, it didn't present that great a challenge, regardless of the population density. About to give up the current search, he paused when he recognized her presence. Anthony turned. With little effort, thanks to his height, he looked across the main room to see her just exiting the elevator. The breath he didn't need to draw in caught in his throat. It had been sixty years since their paths had crossed, a deliberate move on his part out of respect for the hatred, however well-deserved, she held for him. Sixty long, boring years. Athdara looked the same of course, eternally twenty-six as a vampire. Unfashionably curvy, lush, and perfect. She'd pulled her long red hair back in an ugly braid. The coiffure failed to detract from the fragile face. So many hours spent brushing that hair. She wore a long, black satin ball gown, Le Tourneau if he were any judge, that swished when she moved past a bank of bleeping and flashing slot machines. Anthony allowed a trace of a smile to curve his mouth upward, and he turned toward the staircase leading to a landing that would give him an unimpeded view of the main room. Now to have some fun.
**** Dara spared a glance at the delicate diamond and emerald watch attached to her wrist. Twenty-six minutes, plenty of time for some blackjack before she went to the ballroom. Her best friend, Chris, who was attending with Sarah, would text if the speaker ahead of her moved more quickly than the program indicated. If nothing else, gambling would take her mind off the unpleasantness to come. Her hand trembled a little as it fell back to her side, the first hint of nerves. God, why do I agree to these things? I detest public speaking. As she approached the tables, something felt off. She saw nothing concrete, no sign of anyone acting out of place, but instinct guided her. After falling in love with a murderer, she always paid attention when she got that little tingle at the base of her neck. Other than a dapper human who seemed fascinated by the expansive view of her breasts that the low-cut gown offered, no one seemed to be looking in her direction. Such realization didn't alleviate the impression someone was watching. The moment passed, and Dara shook her head in annoyance. "You're paranoid, girl," she said to herself. "Ronnie said he won't be here." Her palms itched, and unease returned as she reached the tables. Her eyes narrowed warily. Someone was definitely watching her. But who? And from where? She brushed her tongue against one of her razor-sharp fangs, took a deep breath, and brought her mental barriers down. Few other vampires her age would dare lower the protective barriers that blocked out the chaotic mishmash of thoughts from other beings when amongst a large gathering. She prided herself on her strength, the only gift from her unknown sire that she was grateful for.
Blurb:Peter wants a second chance with the woman who rejected him for being too tame in their initial courtship. Katie can't believe he's the exciting lover she fantasizes about finding. She only sees him as her sweet friend from work. She has no idea he was controlling his true desires in an attempt to win her heart before claiming her body. They're both going to a costume party, and he intends on seducing her there. If she wants a bad boy, he'll give her a masked stranger who can't keep his skilled hands off her, a mystery man who somehow knows exactly how to please her. But once he's lured her into his wicked embrace and fulfilled her fantasy, how will she react to the truth? Will she accept his love and delight in his erotic game, or will she despise him for tricking her and send him away forever?
Teaser:Katie turned as another man came up and began talking to her. He was handsome, very tall, and dressed in Elizabethan clothes. She didn't like tights much on men, but she hoped the period garb was a sign of intelligence, as she hadn't encountered much of that this evening. She gave him her full attention, turning the frown into a smile. If the man in the mask wanted to talk, he'd have to come to her. She would not follow him around all night, no matter how hot he was or how much she wanted to run her hands over that fabulous ass."Katie, right?""Yes.""Philip." He extended his hand, and she shook it. "You trained me for a couple of days. I work in the academic advisor's office."She stared at him for a moment, and then she recognized him. "Oh yes. You didn't have the beard then.""My girlfriend wanted me to grow it. I've adjusted to it." "Well, it looks nice. You're liking the job?""Oh yes. Everyone's wonderful.""They're very friendly over there. I like doing the training program. It's a great way to get to know people from all over campus.""It looks great in here. I came to see a play once, and it's like a different building."She took a long look around. She didn't remember what it had looked like before, as she hadn't been in it since it was remodeled. "It does look nice. I like the masks tucked into the floral arrangements. They're so gorgeous and fun.""Aren't they great? Someone said the theater students made all of them. They were going to give them out so everyone would have a mask, but there was a leak in the storage room, or something like that, and most of them were damaged so they just threw the remaining ones up as decoration.""Hmmm. It might have been fun if everyone were masked." At that moment, her phone vibrated. She ignored it at first and turned to say something else when a very animated woman came and dragged her Shakespearean companion away after offering only a brief apology. She pulled it out of the tiny pouch she'd chosen to use as a purse, dropping her keys in the process. She knelt to pick them up, and as she rose she saw him above her on the second-floor balcony again. His gaze went straight down her cleavage. She raised an eyebrow saucily and then turned away from him. Had he done a circle around the balcony and come back? Had he been eyeing her the whole time? She didn't want a man who would stare at her like a sad stalker. She wanted some action tonight. She looked down at her phone, and this time both her eyebrows went up.I want to ravish the beauty in pink.She did not recognize the number, but it was a local area code. Had she told anyone she was coming tonight? She never wore pink, so this message had to be from someone in the room, unless it was a highly coincidental wrong number. She hadn't set her bag down anywhere, and she had kept it with her in the stall when she went to the bathroom. So, someone at the party knew her well enough to have her phone number.Frowning, she fingered the reply button, unsure what to say back. Was this a joke? Were her friends trying to get a rise out of her? None of them had shown any interest in the party, and she hadn't said a word about wanting to go. No one was paying any attention to her. Who could it be? The man in black had disappeared. However, it had to be someone else because she doubted she knew him. His body would be hard for any woman to ignore.Her phone vibrated again. Glad I have your attention, but I want more than that.She looked around a second time, turning to take in the whole room, but still no one seemed to be watching her. She sent a text back.What do you want?She waited three whole minutes for the reply, circling the dance floor again as she searched the balcony. She could get into a game like this, but she wished she knew the rules. She'd been on the verge of stuffing her phone in her bag and storming off to find more obliging, and tangible, company when her phone vibrated again.To pull you into a darkened room, lift up your skirt, and find out how you taste.Her face grew hot, but in a good way. She'd expected something more teasing or subtle. Katie felt the dampness in her panties as she shifted her stance. She scanned the balcony again. She moved to the stairs and went up. She looked over the entire room carefully. But she didn't see the masked man. Couldn't it be him? The text had come right after he disappeared. He didn't look familiar, but then again she could only see his mouth. Her pussy throbbed as she thought about that mouth and what her mysterious texting man said he wanted to do to her. She hadn't had good sex in quite a while, and though she hadn't come here looking for it, she wouldn't turn him down if he would only get his butt in gear and make a move. Teasing intrigued her, but she was ready for some action. The desire expressed in the text fit perfectly with the way he had been gazing at her. How had he gotten her number?
Blurb:Bridget doesn't believe in vampires or werewolves, but that doesn't stop one from kidnapping her.
BRIDGET SHANAHAN'S life seems bleak and boring until she gets mugged and abducted from her favorite coffee shop by the sexiest man she's ever met. Unfortunately, he's a lunatic who believes he's some kind of vampire savior surrounded by a security force of werewolves and he's determined to keep her.
FREDRICK MACGREGOR has been having visions of this woman in danger for the last six months, a woman he must protect because she's the Avatar of the Goddess. However, when he brings her home, she doesn't believe he's a vampire or that she is the Avatar, and she definitely doesn't want to stay. But the sense of danger persists and he'll do anything to keep her safe, even if it means risking the loss of the only woman who brings light and color to his endless life.
Teaser:
"Do you remember me, Bridget? I met you at Snickerdoodles." Oh, she remembered, all right. She remembered the scent of his skin and the warmth of his body beside her. At least, she thought she did. He'd wrapped his trench coat around her, hadn't he? She closed her eyes and shook her head to clear the cobwebs of mixed memories. "I returned your book and tried to hail a cab for you. Do you remember that?" No. Wait. Yes, she remembered the terrible kidnapping scene in the book and how she'd left it on the table in the coffee shop. Her memories played out in a reel until it ended with red eyes and searing pain. Bridget's eyes flew open, and she stared at her companion with dawning unease. His expression filled with concern and compassion, his eyes a deep chocolate brown. No sign of red anywhere. They weren't even bloodshot. "You're Fredrick MacGregor." "That's right." A smile flitted over his lips. "And you smell like spiced apples and vanilla." His black eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, one tendril falling across an eye. It looked soft and smooth, and she wanted to push it behind his ear for him. His smug look banished any tender feelings that might have developed. "You were stabbed in the side, and I brought you to my home here in Gloucester to take care of you." Stabbed? She'd been stabbed? Gasping, she wrenched the emerald bedclothes away from her body and scanned the skin of her belly. The bruised pain she felt directed her eyes to her left side, but there was nothing there, not even discoloration. If she'd been stabbed, where was the scar, the scab?Is he just teasing me? What kind of a jerk does that? Then the rest of his words sank in. "Gloucester?" "Yes. It was the safest place I could think to take you." Bridget narrowed her eyes as she raised her gaze to meet his again, her hands still holding the bedclothes up. Safe for whom, you chocolate-eyed kidnapper?"Normally you take injured people, like those with stab wounds, to the hospital. Or at least call the paramedics." What was she doing in Gloucester in a richly decorated bedroom? Was it his bedroom?There are worse places to be, a traitorous voice remarked."There was no time, and I knew I could care for you as well or better than any hospital," Fredrick replied to her unasked questions.Riiiiggghhhtt, that's what all the sociopaths say to their victims. "I have to go." She tried to sit up again. She'd make it home come hell or high water. Goosebumps zinged along her leg when it appeared out of the covers."Whoa!" She jerked her legs back under the emerald sheets and stared incredulously at the man sitting next to her bed. "Where are my clothes?" And that sexy dress? "I haven't had time to get any from your apartment." His eyes never dropped from hers. "I'll send someone presently." She raised her eyebrows. "Presently? Who uses words like 'presently'? And how do you know where I live?" She groaned, frowning. "You looked in my wallet from my coat." "That seemed to be the most logical place to look for your name and home address." "That's just great. A perfect ending to a perfect day." She sighed, slumping back in the bed. "Stabbed, kidnapped, and naked in a stranger's bed. It just doesn't get much worse." "Except, perhaps, being kidnapped by a vampire with a house full of werewolves," he suggested, a half-smile curling his kissable lips. She snorted. "Thank God there's no such thing as vampires or werewolves." He stilled as if the life within him bled away, leaving nothing but a quiet, waxen shell, and his face lost the humor in it. Unease crept through her as she stared hard at him, clutching the covers so tightly her knuckles turned white. The scent of spiced apples shifted to a dirt smell, like moist earth or the desert after the rain, and her stomach cramped with visceral fear. "Thank you." She cleared her throat. "Thank you for whatever you did. I think I remember being stabbed. It hurt like hell. How bad was the damage, and how long have I been here?" Life seeped back into him as he cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowed in consideration. "You have only been here a few hours. We didn't do anything but look at your wound. You healed all by yourself." "Yeah, I know I'm healing. I just want to know what you did to close the wound and how many stitches I needed." "I told you. We didn't do anything. Your body healed on its own." "What are you talking about? What do you mean, 'healed'?" She lifted the bed sheets away from her body again to get a better look at her left side. The skin appeared a little pink at her waist, but nothing suggesting a stab wound. She looked back up at him, anger coiling. "What did you do to me?" Fredrick shook his head. "Nothing, Ms. Shanahan. I would like to know how you managed to heal so quickly, but it appears you didn't know you could do that." "Of course I didn't know I could do that!" Bridget dropped the bed sheet to her waist. "No one can do that except in science fiction novels." His gaze locked onto her chest, and a predatory expression flooded his features. An odd combination of exhilaration and lust zinged through her, which only pissed her off more. She growled and jerked the sheets back up. "Nice." He coughed and had the grace to look chagrined. "Forgive me, but I've found it very difficult to turn down an opportunity to view such beauty."
Blurb:Tegan Murin has his hands full these days. Feral attacks are increasing, targeting humans, and now he is ordered to find and destroy a deadly artifact known as Oman's Seal, deal with his estranged step-father and find a missing archaeologist. He's a bit irritable. Add into the mix a recurring dream of one sexy seductress leading him to his death… well, you get one very pissed off were-panther.Kyra Navarone is more than what she seems. Escaping from the ferals who captured her, she ends up running into a brooding, irritating man who makes her blood run hot just with one look. Her life depends on the betrayal of this compelling man, but how can she live with herself afterward?More than their lives hang in the balance. In order to survive they must learn to trust one another before the world they know and the one hidden beneath the waves are destroyed forever. Teaser:
"Is that all you got, asshole?" Tegan growled from flat on his back. The damn leech had packed quite a punch, but he'd never let him know that. He rose from the ground, spitting a wad of blood on the alley floor. "You hit like a girl."The vampire hissed, baring his impressively large fangs, his fingernails lengthening to razor sharp points. Tegan laughed with dark intent. His claws punched out of his hands with the sound of tearing flesh. The dagger sharp points, catching the light from the crescent moon shining above the filthy alley, burst through his knuckles. Forming a fist, he fought off the rank odor of rotten garbage and urine trying for a permanent home in his nostrils."Mine are bigger than yours," he said with a menacing smile, wiggling his claws "Game on."The vampire's eyes glowed red. Snarling his contempt, the beast leapt, its sharp nails aiming for Tegan's exposed jugular. Tegan twisted to the side at the last moment and raked his claws up the vampire's unprotected stomach. Crap, the vamp even screamed like a girl. Wasn't that just fucking pathetic? The vampire wrenched free of Tegan's claws. Its nails tore through the leather of his bomber jacket, past the soft cotton tee shirt and gouged deep into the muscle and tendons.Pain exploded through his shoulder, clear to the bone, traveling like wildfire down his arm, followed by the unpleasant prickling sensation like a thousand fire ants were eating his limb off. Gods damned vamps, he thought disgustedly. What was it with these feral vampires and poisons anyway? The venom pulsed though his system like toxic sludge, warning him there would be very little time before it rendered him immobile. Reaching for the knife strapped to his chest, he pinned his gaze on the cocky asshole. No more play time. Now it's die time.
Evernight Publishing
BlurbFor eighty years since the Great Awakening, humans and non-humans have lived in relative peace together. The peace is threatened when three bodies turn up less than a mile from the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs in Tampa, all bearing the signature of vampires who once terrorized Europe. The Bureau's chief liaison to the vampires, Dara MacKechnie, learns that the Tampa victims are not alone when her ex-lover, and head of the vampire's Great Council, Anthony Caldwell comes calling.The pair discovers the lie that separated them two centuries ago only banked their passion, not extinguished it. Dara must decide whether she can trust Anthony with her heart a second time as they try to head off the war that threatens all they hold dear.
Teaser:Chapter OneFrom the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs' FAQ Page: Telepaths Question: What should I do if I catch a telepath (species unimportant) using telepathy to read my mind and steal my personal information?Answer: Call your local Bureau office immediately. The Privacy Act of 1974 makes it illegal for anyone to scan another person without a court order. Such orders may be granted to determine guilt or innocence of a crime, if requested by the accused.
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Dara rolled her eyes at her assistant's lazy inquiry as she paced in front of the elevator. "About three hours later than it is here, which means you're probably in the middle of a date, Ronnie, not in bed." A delicate giggle escaped the other woman before she said, "Who says I'm not in bed in the middle of my date, darlin'?" "Spare me. Just swear to me, one last time, he's not on the guest list." Her assistant groaned loudly, likely for effect on whoever the lucky man was to emphasize her put-upon status. "Dara, you're calling me at nearly eleven at night to bug me about that man again?" The elevator doors "swooshed" open in invitation. Unwilling to risk losing her connection because she suspected Ronnie would ignore any subsequent call, Dara shook her head at the car's occupants and spun to stalk down the hall toward her suite door. "Please, just tell me he's not going to be here!" She heard the whine in her voice. How could she be so pathetic? Two hundred years of life experience should give me more dignity than this. She could practically see the other woman's eyes roll as she said, "According to the Society's president's secretary when I talked to her three hours ago in anticipation of this discussion, no. Anthony Caldwell declined his invitation three weeks ago and has made no attempt to reverse that decision." Dara's shoulders slumped in relief. Everything would be fine then. No known child-killers in attendance at the Society's 80th Anniversary Bash made for a good evening. "All right, thanks," she murmured in genuine appreciation. "How'd the LeTourneau dress look when you put it on?" She blinked at the abrupt change in topic, and her gaze dropped to her half-bared chest where fluorescent lights glinted off the pale, ropey scars that marred the surface. "I feel like an overstuffed sausage, Ronnie. I wore a corset when they were fashionable and hated them. I almost needed one today to get into this infernal outfit." So she exaggerated, a little. Ronnie snickered, and Dara heard a low male whisper in the background. "I don't need my powers, or a picture, to know you're lying to me. Sarah would never put you in anything that didn't look spectacular. Go make your speech, darling. Tell me all about it when you get back to Tampa." Dara slowly pressed the disconnect button and wandered back toward the elevator with a sigh. Ronnie was right, knowing Dara's insecurities about her appearance entirely too well. Sarah, the last descendant of her little sister, Caila, had exquisite fashion taste. The LeTourneau dress, the first and only one she'd ever bought from the exclusive werewolf designer, was a new purchase, bought specifically for this party. Attending the Bash on behalf of the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs certainly hadn't been Dara's idea. But when invited as the honoree and keynote speaker, one must attend, especially when one's boss said to go or be fired. Therefore, she'd allowed the Society to fly her out, put her up in the exclusive Bearings Hotel and Casino for three nights with Sarah, and had agreed to give a single speech and attend a ball afterward in exchange. Overall, it really was a good deal for her. The short, enforced vacation offered her an escape from the wet heat of Florida in late August. She pressed the down-button on the elevator and tapped her foot with just the first hint of impatience. Less than thirty minutes remained before her speech. As the keynote speaker, she didn't intend to show up until she had to, to avoid the inevitable attention that would be focused on her. At least Anthony's absence was assured.
**** "Would you care for another drink, Mr. Caldwell?" Anthony looked up from the blackjack table as the leggy blond waitress leaned over to ask her question. He gave her a lazy smile and finished the last of his blood and gin, noting the faint flush that spread across her cheeks. Another lifetime, perhaps he might have asked for her phone number, but not now. Not when his objective of so many years was almost at hand. "No. Thank you just the same, madam." She flashed him a smile that revealed just a hint of fangs and sauntered off. He eyed the long legs for a moment more and repressed a scowl that he felt nothing at turning down what could have been a very pleasurable evening if he'd accepted the implied invitation. What was the world coming to? "Ante up, gentlemen," the dealer said. After a glance at the rose-gold, Atlas watch around his right wrist, Anthony shook his head. "I'm out. Duty calls." Duty didn't call, not yet anyway, but the time was close enough at hand that his conscience didn't prick him for the slight inaccuracy. If he intended to track down his quarry before they met in the ballroom, he needed to go. His senses, on constant alert in the crowded casino, had yet to detect her, but she couldn't be much longer. Even she wouldn't be late to a ceremony intended to honor her. Then again, when has Athdara Genevieve ever been on time for anything? he thought with faint amusement. He closed his eyes for a moment to filter through the hundreds of minds pressing in around him from around the casino. For a younger vampire, it would have taken much longer. After more than twelve hundred years of practice, it didn't present that great a challenge, regardless of the population density. About to give up the current search, he paused when he recognized her presence. Anthony turned. With little effort, thanks to his height, he looked across the main room to see her just exiting the elevator. The breath he didn't need to draw in caught in his throat. It had been sixty years since their paths had crossed, a deliberate move on his part out of respect for the hatred, however well-deserved, she held for him. Sixty long, boring years. Athdara looked the same of course, eternally twenty-six as a vampire. Unfashionably curvy, lush, and perfect. She'd pulled her long red hair back in an ugly braid. The coiffure failed to detract from the fragile face. So many hours spent brushing that hair. She wore a long, black satin ball gown, Le Tourneau if he were any judge, that swished when she moved past a bank of bleeping and flashing slot machines. Anthony allowed a trace of a smile to curve his mouth upward, and he turned toward the staircase leading to a landing that would give him an unimpeded view of the main room. Now to have some fun.
**** Dara spared a glance at the delicate diamond and emerald watch attached to her wrist. Twenty-six minutes, plenty of time for some blackjack before she went to the ballroom. Her best friend, Chris, who was attending with Sarah, would text if the speaker ahead of her moved more quickly than the program indicated. If nothing else, gambling would take her mind off the unpleasantness to come. Her hand trembled a little as it fell back to her side, the first hint of nerves. God, why do I agree to these things? I detest public speaking. As she approached the tables, something felt off. She saw nothing concrete, no sign of anyone acting out of place, but instinct guided her. After falling in love with a murderer, she always paid attention when she got that little tingle at the base of her neck. Other than a dapper human who seemed fascinated by the expansive view of her breasts that the low-cut gown offered, no one seemed to be looking in her direction. Such realization didn't alleviate the impression someone was watching. The moment passed, and Dara shook her head in annoyance. "You're paranoid, girl," she said to herself. "Ronnie said he won't be here." Her palms itched, and unease returned as she reached the tables. Her eyes narrowed warily. Someone was definitely watching her. But who? And from where? She brushed her tongue against one of her razor-sharp fangs, took a deep breath, and brought her mental barriers down. Few other vampires her age would dare lower the protective barriers that blocked out the chaotic mishmash of thoughts from other beings when amongst a large gathering. She prided herself on her strength, the only gift from her unknown sire that she was grateful for.
Blurb:Peter wants a second chance with the woman who rejected him for being too tame in their initial courtship. Katie can't believe he's the exciting lover she fantasizes about finding. She only sees him as her sweet friend from work. She has no idea he was controlling his true desires in an attempt to win her heart before claiming her body. They're both going to a costume party, and he intends on seducing her there. If she wants a bad boy, he'll give her a masked stranger who can't keep his skilled hands off her, a mystery man who somehow knows exactly how to please her. But once he's lured her into his wicked embrace and fulfilled her fantasy, how will she react to the truth? Will she accept his love and delight in his erotic game, or will she despise him for tricking her and send him away forever?Teaser:Katie turned as another man came up and began talking to her. He was handsome, very tall, and dressed in Elizabethan clothes. She didn't like tights much on men, but she hoped the period garb was a sign of intelligence, as she hadn't encountered much of that this evening. She gave him her full attention, turning the frown into a smile. If the man in the mask wanted to talk, he'd have to come to her. She would not follow him around all night, no matter how hot he was or how much she wanted to run her hands over that fabulous ass."Katie, right?""Yes.""Philip." He extended his hand, and she shook it. "You trained me for a couple of days. I work in the academic advisor's office."She stared at him for a moment, and then she recognized him. "Oh yes. You didn't have the beard then.""My girlfriend wanted me to grow it. I've adjusted to it." "Well, it looks nice. You're liking the job?""Oh yes. Everyone's wonderful.""They're very friendly over there. I like doing the training program. It's a great way to get to know people from all over campus.""It looks great in here. I came to see a play once, and it's like a different building."She took a long look around. She didn't remember what it had looked like before, as she hadn't been in it since it was remodeled. "It does look nice. I like the masks tucked into the floral arrangements. They're so gorgeous and fun.""Aren't they great? Someone said the theater students made all of them. They were going to give them out so everyone would have a mask, but there was a leak in the storage room, or something like that, and most of them were damaged so they just threw the remaining ones up as decoration.""Hmmm. It might have been fun if everyone were masked." At that moment, her phone vibrated. She ignored it at first and turned to say something else when a very animated woman came and dragged her Shakespearean companion away after offering only a brief apology. She pulled it out of the tiny pouch she'd chosen to use as a purse, dropping her keys in the process. She knelt to pick them up, and as she rose she saw him above her on the second-floor balcony again. His gaze went straight down her cleavage. She raised an eyebrow saucily and then turned away from him. Had he done a circle around the balcony and come back? Had he been eyeing her the whole time? She didn't want a man who would stare at her like a sad stalker. She wanted some action tonight. She looked down at her phone, and this time both her eyebrows went up.I want to ravish the beauty in pink.She did not recognize the number, but it was a local area code. Had she told anyone she was coming tonight? She never wore pink, so this message had to be from someone in the room, unless it was a highly coincidental wrong number. She hadn't set her bag down anywhere, and she had kept it with her in the stall when she went to the bathroom. So, someone at the party knew her well enough to have her phone number.Frowning, she fingered the reply button, unsure what to say back. Was this a joke? Were her friends trying to get a rise out of her? None of them had shown any interest in the party, and she hadn't said a word about wanting to go. No one was paying any attention to her. Who could it be? The man in black had disappeared. However, it had to be someone else because she doubted she knew him. His body would be hard for any woman to ignore.Her phone vibrated again. Glad I have your attention, but I want more than that.She looked around a second time, turning to take in the whole room, but still no one seemed to be watching her. She sent a text back.What do you want?She waited three whole minutes for the reply, circling the dance floor again as she searched the balcony. She could get into a game like this, but she wished she knew the rules. She'd been on the verge of stuffing her phone in her bag and storming off to find more obliging, and tangible, company when her phone vibrated again.To pull you into a darkened room, lift up your skirt, and find out how you taste.Her face grew hot, but in a good way. She'd expected something more teasing or subtle. Katie felt the dampness in her panties as she shifted her stance. She scanned the balcony again. She moved to the stairs and went up. She looked over the entire room carefully. But she didn't see the masked man. Couldn't it be him? The text had come right after he disappeared. He didn't look familiar, but then again she could only see his mouth. Her pussy throbbed as she thought about that mouth and what her mysterious texting man said he wanted to do to her. She hadn't had good sex in quite a while, and though she hadn't come here looking for it, she wouldn't turn him down if he would only get his butt in gear and make a move. Teasing intrigued her, but she was ready for some action. The desire expressed in the text fit perfectly with the way he had been gazing at her. How had he gotten her number?
Blurb:Bridget doesn't believe in vampires or werewolves, but that doesn't stop one from kidnapping her.BRIDGET SHANAHAN'S life seems bleak and boring until she gets mugged and abducted from her favorite coffee shop by the sexiest man she's ever met. Unfortunately, he's a lunatic who believes he's some kind of vampire savior surrounded by a security force of werewolves and he's determined to keep her.
FREDRICK MACGREGOR has been having visions of this woman in danger for the last six months, a woman he must protect because she's the Avatar of the Goddess. However, when he brings her home, she doesn't believe he's a vampire or that she is the Avatar, and she definitely doesn't want to stay. But the sense of danger persists and he'll do anything to keep her safe, even if it means risking the loss of the only woman who brings light and color to his endless life.
Teaser:
"Do you remember me, Bridget? I met you at Snickerdoodles." Oh, she remembered, all right. She remembered the scent of his skin and the warmth of his body beside her. At least, she thought she did. He'd wrapped his trench coat around her, hadn't he? She closed her eyes and shook her head to clear the cobwebs of mixed memories. "I returned your book and tried to hail a cab for you. Do you remember that?" No. Wait. Yes, she remembered the terrible kidnapping scene in the book and how she'd left it on the table in the coffee shop. Her memories played out in a reel until it ended with red eyes and searing pain. Bridget's eyes flew open, and she stared at her companion with dawning unease. His expression filled with concern and compassion, his eyes a deep chocolate brown. No sign of red anywhere. They weren't even bloodshot. "You're Fredrick MacGregor." "That's right." A smile flitted over his lips. "And you smell like spiced apples and vanilla." His black eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, one tendril falling across an eye. It looked soft and smooth, and she wanted to push it behind his ear for him. His smug look banished any tender feelings that might have developed. "You were stabbed in the side, and I brought you to my home here in Gloucester to take care of you." Stabbed? She'd been stabbed? Gasping, she wrenched the emerald bedclothes away from her body and scanned the skin of her belly. The bruised pain she felt directed her eyes to her left side, but there was nothing there, not even discoloration. If she'd been stabbed, where was the scar, the scab?Is he just teasing me? What kind of a jerk does that? Then the rest of his words sank in. "Gloucester?" "Yes. It was the safest place I could think to take you." Bridget narrowed her eyes as she raised her gaze to meet his again, her hands still holding the bedclothes up. Safe for whom, you chocolate-eyed kidnapper?"Normally you take injured people, like those with stab wounds, to the hospital. Or at least call the paramedics." What was she doing in Gloucester in a richly decorated bedroom? Was it his bedroom?There are worse places to be, a traitorous voice remarked."There was no time, and I knew I could care for you as well or better than any hospital," Fredrick replied to her unasked questions.Riiiiggghhhtt, that's what all the sociopaths say to their victims. "I have to go." She tried to sit up again. She'd make it home come hell or high water. Goosebumps zinged along her leg when it appeared out of the covers."Whoa!" She jerked her legs back under the emerald sheets and stared incredulously at the man sitting next to her bed. "Where are my clothes?" And that sexy dress? "I haven't had time to get any from your apartment." His eyes never dropped from hers. "I'll send someone presently." She raised her eyebrows. "Presently? Who uses words like 'presently'? And how do you know where I live?" She groaned, frowning. "You looked in my wallet from my coat." "That seemed to be the most logical place to look for your name and home address." "That's just great. A perfect ending to a perfect day." She sighed, slumping back in the bed. "Stabbed, kidnapped, and naked in a stranger's bed. It just doesn't get much worse." "Except, perhaps, being kidnapped by a vampire with a house full of werewolves," he suggested, a half-smile curling his kissable lips. She snorted. "Thank God there's no such thing as vampires or werewolves." He stilled as if the life within him bled away, leaving nothing but a quiet, waxen shell, and his face lost the humor in it. Unease crept through her as she stared hard at him, clutching the covers so tightly her knuckles turned white. The scent of spiced apples shifted to a dirt smell, like moist earth or the desert after the rain, and her stomach cramped with visceral fear. "Thank you." She cleared her throat. "Thank you for whatever you did. I think I remember being stabbed. It hurt like hell. How bad was the damage, and how long have I been here?" Life seeped back into him as he cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowed in consideration. "You have only been here a few hours. We didn't do anything but look at your wound. You healed all by yourself." "Yeah, I know I'm healing. I just want to know what you did to close the wound and how many stitches I needed." "I told you. We didn't do anything. Your body healed on its own." "What are you talking about? What do you mean, 'healed'?" She lifted the bed sheets away from her body again to get a better look at her left side. The skin appeared a little pink at her waist, but nothing suggesting a stab wound. She looked back up at him, anger coiling. "What did you do to me?" Fredrick shook his head. "Nothing, Ms. Shanahan. I would like to know how you managed to heal so quickly, but it appears you didn't know you could do that." "Of course I didn't know I could do that!" Bridget dropped the bed sheet to her waist. "No one can do that except in science fiction novels." His gaze locked onto her chest, and a predatory expression flooded his features. An odd combination of exhilaration and lust zinged through her, which only pissed her off more. She growled and jerked the sheets back up. "Nice." He coughed and had the grace to look chagrined. "Forgive me, but I've found it very difficult to turn down an opportunity to view such beauty."
Blurb:Tegan Murin has his hands full these days. Feral attacks are increasing, targeting humans, and now he is ordered to find and destroy a deadly artifact known as Oman's Seal, deal with his estranged step-father and find a missing archaeologist. He's a bit irritable. Add into the mix a recurring dream of one sexy seductress leading him to his death… well, you get one very pissed off were-panther.Kyra Navarone is more than what she seems. Escaping from the ferals who captured her, she ends up running into a brooding, irritating man who makes her blood run hot just with one look. Her life depends on the betrayal of this compelling man, but how can she live with herself afterward?More than their lives hang in the balance. In order to survive they must learn to trust one another before the world they know and the one hidden beneath the waves are destroyed forever. Teaser:
"Is that all you got, asshole?" Tegan growled from flat on his back. The damn leech had packed quite a punch, but he'd never let him know that. He rose from the ground, spitting a wad of blood on the alley floor. "You hit like a girl."The vampire hissed, baring his impressively large fangs, his fingernails lengthening to razor sharp points. Tegan laughed with dark intent. His claws punched out of his hands with the sound of tearing flesh. The dagger sharp points, catching the light from the crescent moon shining above the filthy alley, burst through his knuckles. Forming a fist, he fought off the rank odor of rotten garbage and urine trying for a permanent home in his nostrils."Mine are bigger than yours," he said with a menacing smile, wiggling his claws "Game on."The vampire's eyes glowed red. Snarling his contempt, the beast leapt, its sharp nails aiming for Tegan's exposed jugular. Tegan twisted to the side at the last moment and raked his claws up the vampire's unprotected stomach. Crap, the vamp even screamed like a girl. Wasn't that just fucking pathetic? The vampire wrenched free of Tegan's claws. Its nails tore through the leather of his bomber jacket, past the soft cotton tee shirt and gouged deep into the muscle and tendons.Pain exploded through his shoulder, clear to the bone, traveling like wildfire down his arm, followed by the unpleasant prickling sensation like a thousand fire ants were eating his limb off. Gods damned vamps, he thought disgustedly. What was it with these feral vampires and poisons anyway? The venom pulsed though his system like toxic sludge, warning him there would be very little time before it rendered him immobile. Reaching for the knife strapped to his chest, he pinned his gaze on the cocky asshole. No more play time. Now it's die time.
February 6, 2012
Romancing the Valentine BlogFest!
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The Romancing the Valentine Giveaway Hop is being hosted by Reading Romances!Another Hop another chance to win!
I will be giving away a PDF of my newest release Beloved Wizard. Please leave me a comment and be sure to hop around to the other blogs for your chance to win even more prizes.
Arthur and his Knights are back and ready to kick ass!
Merci Tramaine is not happy to be called back into service by her old boss Arthur, especially when she is charged to find her missing ex lover. Drake Monroe is Merlin reincarnated, with his powers bound by the Goddess Nimue he has become a skilled fighter, but no match for Nimue who kidnapped him determined to destroy him forever.The bloodline of Morgan Le Fey taints Merci keeping her on the edge between light and dark, the Goddess's wicked trap springs shut leaving both Drake and Merci racing against the clock. Passions ignite once again, but are they too late to plan a future or will they be torn from each other? This time for eternity. Hop and enter the other giveaways!
I will be giving away a PDF of my newest release Beloved Wizard. Please leave me a comment and be sure to hop around to the other blogs for your chance to win even more prizes.
Arthur and his Knights are back and ready to kick ass!
Merci Tramaine is not happy to be called back into service by her old boss Arthur, especially when she is charged to find her missing ex lover. Drake Monroe is Merlin reincarnated, with his powers bound by the Goddess Nimue he has become a skilled fighter, but no match for Nimue who kidnapped him determined to destroy him forever.The bloodline of Morgan Le Fey taints Merci keeping her on the edge between light and dark, the Goddess's wicked trap springs shut leaving both Drake and Merci racing against the clock. Passions ignite once again, but are they too late to plan a future or will they be torn from each other? This time for eternity. Hop and enter the other giveaways!
February 2, 2012
Author Spotlights Morgan Kearns
I am delighted to introduce my guest Morgan Kearns. I was lucky enough to get to know a little about her since she is in my Critique group plus she is a part of Arizona Dreamin a readers event I went to last year and plan to go again this year too. If you can get to it I highly recommend this event. I've found all the writers to be warm and friendly. The whole event is geared toward giving the reader a better chance to get to know them in a smaller more intimate setting of ten or less.
Now enough from me, time to get comfy and meet Morgan Kearns.
Doyou do anything to get you into the zone to write? Ineed music to write. I flip my iPod on and away I go.
Which authors inspire your writing? JR Ward; I love the way she can describe a scene without thereader realizing that's what they're reading. Lynsay Sands & JanetEvanovich; The way they weave humor throughout their storylines is masterful.
Whatis your favorite book, character and why? JR Ward'sBlack Dagger Brotherhood series. No, I can't pick a favorite book, but Amethystis my favorite color. *wink*
Doyou prefer to write erotic or sweet? Sweet. Definitelysweet.
Whichfamous person, living or dead, are you drawn to? I loveScarlett O'Hara (yes, I know she's fictitious). I can't say that I always agreewith her whiny games, but her do-or-die attitude is something to admire.
Wheredo you see yourself in five years? Even more in lovewith my husband than I am today!
Finishthis sentence: I know I've made it when Husbandworks because he wants to!
Whatadvice would you give aspiring writers? Work hard.Listen to criticism. Never publish anything without having an editor look atit. Write something every day!
Whatdo you see yourself writing in the future? More Rockets baseball (Xavier's story comesout in May 2012). At least 3 more Boundby a Touch Novels. I have a YA series I'm hoping to finish someday. Oh,gosh! There is no shortage of characters begging for their stories to be told.
Ifyou could have one superpower what would it be and why? Not needing sleep, 'cause I'd be able get so much more done. LOL! Doesanyone else hate housework?
Whattime of the day are you at your best to write? Duringthe day when the house is quiet (except for my music).
And now for somethingcompletely different…
Whatdo you look at first with an attractive man, face, body or smile? Definitely his smile, complete with the sexy laugh linescrinkling next to his eyes.
Explainyour perfect day. Sleeping in past 7:00am, lots ofrelaxation (massage, mani/pedi), and a fabulous book!
Whatis the most decadent desert you can't say no to? Oreotruffles. I make a low-fat version that is to-die-for! Eating a dozen of themkinda kills the low fat thing, though. LOL!
Doyou have a favorite holiday what is it and what makes it special to you? I love the 4th of July! I'm honored to be anAmerican and am proud to take a day to remember exactly that means.
Whatkey words describe you best? Friendly. Sensitive.Loyal. Kind-hearted. Passionate.
Morgan Kearns is having a giveaway!
Whatis your prize? I'm going to be giving away a digital copy of HEART ACHE to one person.
Howdo they enter to win? Follow yourblog, Comment on the interview, Tweet about the interview, "like" my facebookauthor page (www.facebook.com/AuthorMorganKearns), Follow myblog (http://authormorgankearns.blogspot.com)
Whenwill you be announcing the winner? I will announce thewinner on my blog, Morgan's Musings on Tuesday, February 7th, 2012.
February 1, 2012
Author Spotlights Ashlynne Laynne's Progeny
Good Morning I have a very special Spotlight today that I know you will enjoy. So get comfortable and join me as I introduce Ashlynne Laynne and her soon to be released The Progeny.
About Ashlynne:
Ashlynne Laynne has always had a soft spot in her heart for vampires but grew tired of the garlic fearing, sun loathing creatures of old. An avid horror movie fan, she tends to enjoy media and music that is of a younger, more eclectic nature. This was the catalyst for her writing The Progeny. The vampire/witch pairing is unique and different when most books pair vampires with werewolves.
The infinite possibilities, for such a wickedly unique couple, intrigued her. There is no shortage of romance, steam and surprises in The Progeny. These books are for adults and contain adult sensuality and themes, but minimal profanity. She loves writing on the edge and teetering between the erotica and romance genres. She thinks of Ascher and Shauna as the damned version of Romeo and Juliet.
She's currently working on book two of the series entitled Blood Bonds. In her spare time, Ashlynne enjoys cooking, reading and spending time with her family. Ashlynne juggles the hats of wife, mother, full time employee and part-time writer, hoping to write full time one day soon.
Ashlynne lives in North Carolina with her husband and teenage son.
TheProgeny by Ashlynne Laynne (Book One of The Progeny Series) Publisher: Novel Concept Publishing Release Date: February 15, 2012
The Progeny Blurb
"No fate other than the one I choose." The timeless creed, and tattoo, bore by the Rousseau's- a vampire clan with the purest bloodline of any vampire family. Out of this clandestine group came one who was different, yet the same: Ascher - a half-bloodling - half-human, half vampire.
Ascher questions the purpose for his existence and which world he truly belongs to: the human world or the vampire world. Two months from sealing to Ursula - a prearranged union to a woman he abhors - he's at his wit's end. He knows if he calls off the sealing, the Romanian clan will strike with deadly force, but he cannot see eternity with a cold empty shell of a woman like Ursula.
Just when he thought life was complicated enough, he meets Shauna - a beautiful, bi-racial human Wiccan - and immediately develops an unshakable attraction to her. She makes him feel alive and vital despite his origins and Ascher makes a decision that turns his immortal world upside down.
AboutThe Progeny
At its core, TheProgeny is simply a story about a man and woman who fall in love, and the factthat he's a half-blood (half-human, half vampire) and she's a Wiccan human aresecondary factors. It started as research about the Salem witch trials, somerough sketches of a special family heirloom that my guys would wear and twonames—Ascher and Shauna. In the beginning, of the book, Ascher is grumpy.Frankly, who could blame him? He's engaged to seal to Ursula—a cold andcareless vampire who wants nothing more than to get her hands on a bloodstone—and he feels conflicted about his existence. All of that changes when he meetsShawnette McCutchin. She's beautiful, intriguing and possesses some of the mostpotent blood that he's ever smelled. A war immediately begins inside Ascher. Hecraves Shauna's blood just as much as he craves her body and the closer theyget, the harder it is for him to control his urges. After Ascher calls off thesealing to Ursula, the trouble begins. His family's peaceful period ends whenUrsula's army attacks the Rousseaus. Kidnapping, some steamy love scenesbetween our hero and heroine and Wiccan rage complete the plot.
Excerpt The Progeny "R" Rated
"You'rehurting. That's the thing about having a heart. It breaks and yearns forthings."Hiseyes caught hers, love pouring from them, stunning her with their sincerity."What does your heart yearn for,Ascher?"Hedidn't answer her.
Heonly held her tighter, his hands gripping her with the need to protect her fromharm. She brought the warrior out of him, that fierceness he'd witnessed in hisbrothers but never thought he'd possess. His hold now mimicked his desire toshield her, shelter her, but mostly the overwhelming need to possess her,completely. "You've never been more wrong, about anything, in your life," hemurmured, his eyes sweeping hers. "This is exactlywhere you belong. With me, my brothers, people who care about you. I can't tellyou I know how it will all turn out, but I will tell you this. I'll be therefor you as little or as much as you need me to be. And if you want to talkabout Katy, or anything else, all you have to do is talk. I'm alwayslistening."Possessivearms pulled her to him, his lips aching, hungering for the touch of hers. This was what his heart yearned for. Hiseyes scorched her, smoldering their intentions into her. Her eyes froze, pupilsfixed on his pale glare. He guided her back towards the bed, her feet steppingwith his, their hearts beating eerily in sync.Shefell back against the bed, his arms directing her to the center. She continuedstaring, her gaze unmoving, her lips an equal participant in the passionplaying out between them. Ten seconds was all he needed to undress them,leaving their bodies heated and grinding against one another.Thecrimson blazed in his eyesight. He wanted her. He was ready to cement theirlove, to make her his.Trepidationwas a thing of the past. She knew what he was and, somehow, still wanted him.His head dropped into the pillow, concealing his blood red gaze.Arough voice— one he'd never heard or even imagined could come from hislips—said, "I know you say this iswhat you want, but are you sure? I want you to be so sure about this. Once I'vemade love to you, I can't take it back. I want you. I swear to you there isnothing else I want more. I don'twant you, if you'll regret this tomorrow. I couldn't live with myself if you ever regretted this.""I'llnever want anyone more. The sky could crash down around me and I wouldn't careas long as your arms were the last things I felt before I died. I'm notdisillusioned about what I'm doing and I can deal with the consequences of myactions. I want you, more than I want to live or breathe."Hegrazed her neck with his tongue, picking up traces of her delectable essence.His lips deluged her soft skin with careful kisses, his finger exploring herwith a gentle urgency.Heropening was tight and only allowed the tip of his finger to enter.Shemoaned, her neck craning back, exposing the constant thump of her carotid.Thecraving sparked in him, his fangs paining beneath his gums. He wanted anothertaste of her. No. You can't bite heragain. Get control of yourself."Doit," she moaned."What?""Ifit pleases you then do it." She brought her neck back to his mouth. "Bite me,Ascher. I want you to.""No."Herhands smoothed along his chest, his stomach… stopping before they reached hisshaft. She was unsure. After his curt reaction to her exploring his body, thenight before the blow up, he didn't blame her. Now, he wanted her to touch him,feel him and discover every part of his anxious body.Hishand grabbed hers, placing it on his steel stiff shaft. Her soft hand feltgood, too good, as it stroked, played with and explored every inch of him.Thefire in his throat blazed, causing his thirst and desire to ignite. He wouldn'tbe able to keep control much longer.Herlips found his neck, sucking, licking, kissing, while her hands stroked himwith a steady, unchallenged rhythm. Her mouth and hands mocked his control,making him vulnerable, his body feverish with yearning."Doit," she whispered, again. "I want you to.""Shauna,"he groaned, his face pressing in the pillow. "I shouldn't…""Don'thold back. You won't hurt me. Bite me. Come on, Ascher. Do it."Insaneamounts of pleasure coursed his body, bringing countless sensations—the fire…the thirst… the yearning to be inside her.Anotherflick of her tongue across his neck, in just the right spot, was all it took.Fangs sprang from his gums, their intentions obvious. Orgasm bubbled up thenpoured from him, bringing release and taking his control.Itwas too much pleasure for his body to hold. He finally experienced theimplausible feeling of an orgasm given to him by the woman he loved.Itwas a first for him.Hismouth found her neck, searching for the spot, the precise place that the flowwas heaviest. He found it and sank his fangs into her. A deep and satisfiedmoan escaped her lips as her eyes rolled in her head.Hisfinger continued to manipulate her. The warm, delicious blood, flooding hismouth, quenched his thirst but fueled his hunger for her body. He was drowning,deluged by pleasure, his arms filling with her exquisite figure.Thisfeeling was like none he'd ever experienced. Her body bucked against hisfingers but the tightness remained insistent in preserving her virginity. Herbreathing was shallow, hurried, the moans deepening in intensity.Thistime, it was easier to disengage his fangs.Pressingagainst her virgin barrier made him stiffen. She was so wet. The orgasm didnothing to quell his desire for her. He wanted more. He had so much more togive. He'd give her as much as she needed.Heengaged her in a deeper kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, stroking hertongue with his. It was the first time he'd kissed her this way. Her response was immediate, her hold drawing him closer. Demandingarms lifted her hips up to him, preparing for their first time. Tingles joinedthe burn coursing his body. His mouth swept her neck, his tongue sliding alongher carotid, the sensations relaxing her rigid body.Hefroze."What'swrong?" she questioned without opening her eyes. "Why are you stopping? Don'tstop. You can't stop. We're so close."Ahurried knock came on his door. The banging threw him into full panic mode.Hetensed.Shestartled."What'swrong?""I'mnot sure." He pulled the sheet around her. "Cover yourself."Thedoor flew open as Quinn flitted into the room, his face horrified and his eyeshalf-red, half-pale blue."Ascher,you have to come quick. It's Tristan. He's taken a turn for the worse.""Dammit!"The profanity spewed through clenched teeth.Hecursed more as he grabbed his clothing and flew out of the room with his brother.
Intrested in knowing more about Ashlynne? Ashlynne appreciates and loves to hear from her readers. Contact her:Twitter:@qlaneFacebook:Book Page- http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Progeny-Series-by-author- Ashlynne-Laynne/129418917161599 Author Page- http://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Ashlynne-Laynne/118945981513261AuthorBlog: http://ashlynnelaynne.blogspot.comEmail:ashlynnelaynne@aol.com
