Linda Nightingale's Blog, page 68
March 19, 2015
$100 Gift Card Grand Prize at TRR 4th Anniversary Party
Join the fun and games today at The Romance Reviews 4th Anniversary Party and win! 
Today is my day, and I���m giving away an autographed print copy of Sinners��� Obsession, the Sequel to Sinners��� Opera. Grand Prize is a $100 Gift Card. SCROLL down to Question #13 (my lucky day!!?)���� http://www.theromancereviews.com/event.php
March 17, 2015
Tears for a World by Alexander Fernandez
The Pitfalls of Writing Fantasy
Hello book fans! Thank you very much, Linda, for hosting me today. Your time is truly appreciated.
Originality. This one word sums up the pitfalls and challenges of writing in the fantasy genre. There are many, many great stories out there by popular and lesser known authors. The stories may be page-turners, however many of those novels share similar elements. I know most of us have read a story and said at one time or another, ���This sounds just like that other book.���
There are only so many ways you can have someone cast a spell, fight a monster, deal with dragons, describe a forest, castle, or some other village. Some authors even have very similar character descriptions or behaviors of certain beings in their novels. Sometimes we start writing and really get into our work. Later, we find out that a certain scene, object, or person sounds just like X scene, object, or person in another story. It can be quite frustrating starting over.
As for the stories themselves, being original with the overall plot can also be quite a challenge. Protagonist beats bad guy. Hero/heroine saves significant other. World is rescued from doom. These are plots that can also be written in so many ways. A writer truly needs to avoid the pitfall of having another book or movie unconsciously adding descriptions or characteristics to the writer���s story as it unfolds. It is not easy. I spent weeks hashing out the plot for my novel Tears for a World. One reviewer on Goodreads said they had never read a story quite like this one, and they gave credit to its originality. That made me feel good because at least one person felt the material was something new. I hope others do as well!
***Alexander will be awarding a $30 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.***�� a Rafflecopter giveaway
BLURB:
The holy artifact bonded around Marisylia Malludar’s neck gives her incredible physical and magical powers���at a price. The bloody piece of vein is consuming Marisylia’s body inch by inch, her skeletal hands and feet only the beginning of a slow death. A cruel sorceress and her assassins are on the hunt for Marisylia to steal the artifact. Religious fanatics, volatile and unstable in their blind faith, also seek her to exploit the vein���s most dangerous purpose���liberating the erratic Creator of the World, Lysielle, from her 1,000 year incarceration.
With the vein the key to Lysielle���s freedom, Marisylia must use her abilities to survive long enough to find Lysielle first. Then her most grim challenge awaits���deciding if the Creator has truly repented for attempting to destroy all life. To achieve global peace, Marisylia must discover faith in the unpredictable Lysielle or rely on her own instincts to set the world���s fate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT:
Marisylia nodded, then reached out and touched his shoulder. ���Thank you for watching over me, Krahn. You haven���t stopped doing that since the explosion. All those days I wrapped myself in seclusion, but I do realize how much you���ve been here for me.���
Krahn turned toward her on the bench. Unexpected heat rose in Marisylia���s cheeks as their eyes met. Her hand still rested on his shoulder. His arm moved as if to touch her leg, but his hand ended up on his knee. ���You���re very welcome,��� he said. ���But I���m just doing my job, Mari. Security has been my life for many years. With Milick in Three Fingers, I can return to Lenth knowing you are safe.���
Disappointment pressed Marisylia like a weight, pinning her to the bench. Is that what he had been doing all this time, merely performing his job? Did he not care about their effort at a relationship that began in Lenth? Apparently he wanted to return home. She then felt a bit na��ve as the warmth returned to her cheeks. Of course Krahn was doing his job, that���s what he had been hired to do. And truthfully, their short time together in the city didn���t warrant a full loving commitment, as if they had been a couple for years.
Still, after everything they had experienced together, she hoped Krahn had developed more affection for her. She certainly had grown to appreciate him, and found his company reassuring.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Alexander Fernandez was born in Santa Monica, CA and grew up in Rancho Cucamonga. Currently serving over 20 years in the United States Air Force, he lives with his wife Helem in Rocklin, CA.
Alex has been writing fantasy stories since early childhood for both school and for pleasure. He hopes to make a lasting emotional impact in his readers. He thrives in the exhilaration of creating memorable characters and adventures that become a part of the reader���s life.
Author site: http://www.authoralexanderfernandez.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TearsForAWorld
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authoraf
FOR MORE CHANCES TO WIN, FOLLOW ALEXANDER’S TOUR AT:
http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2015/02/vbt-tears-for-world-by-alexander.html — See you there!
March 15, 2015
EXPOSED BY RAGE by Sherrel Lee
EXCITING NEWS:
Sherrel has entered Exposed by Rage in the new Kindle Scout program!
Between��Monday, March 2 and April 1, 2015, go to her campaign at: ��https://kindlescout.amazon.com/p/1VT4C9BS6157E
Browse by Category or Search for Exposed by Rage.
Read the excerpt.
If you like it, please nominate it for the next round.
Let all your friends know.
On this tour, Sherrel will be giving away $15 Amazon/BN Gift Card — a Rafflecopter giveaway
BLURB:
He has a dead body. She has the seedy connections. To solve the crime they are forced to work together.
To keep her mother���s reputation from destroying her, Ashley Dix Gibson had to learn at an early age to persevere and tune out the lies, gossip, and the bullies. Detective Michael DeMarco has no desire to team up with a woman with ties to the underbelly of the porn industry but if he wants to solve his case, he has no other options. When Ashley and DeMarco combine their resources to find a brutal killer, sparks of distrust turn into the fires of passion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT:
I must have been feeling weak, because instead of rushing out to confront a few of those I wanted to talk to, I invited DeMarco in. He���d left Braden in charge of the scene and didn���t appear to be in a rush to start the reports he���d have to do. That thought made me smile. For once I wasn���t chained to a desk for seventy-five percent of the investigation. I could get used to being out of the Army and doing things my own way.
���Glad to see the smile. I know this has been extremely hard on you,��� DeMarco said. ���Want to share?���
���I was thinking about Jillie, wanting me to come home. She kept trying to talk me into the leaving the military. It took her death to accomplish that.��� Hot, wet tears started streaming down my face. Appalled, I turned away from DeMarco and stumbled toward the bedroom. He didn���t say anything or try to stop me, but he did follow me. When I didn���t collapse on the bed, he put his arms around me, gave a gently hug and helped me to sit on the mattress.
Damn. This was awkward. The harder I tried to stop crying, the more I leaked tears. I don���t cry. I don���t show emotion, especially to guys. I didn���t want to feel the warmth of his touch and long to put my head on his shoulder. But I did. Before I knew what was happening his lips were on mine and I was holding him. Desperate to keep from drowning.
He pushed back, looking into my eyes. Reading me like the clich��d open book.
��~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Wrangler of a fearsome Yorkiepoo named Rogue (Half Yorkie half Poodle weighing in at 
a hefty eight pounds). Obsession controlled writer with a passion for making up names and twisting myths.
Sherrel, as the daughter of an Emmy winning cameraman, learned early in life the dark secrets of creating all those incredible fantasy characters for the large and small screen.
Refusing to be crushed at the discovery the monsters, aliens, and Robby the Robot weren’t real, Sherrel’s imagination soared. She became a SELF-proclaimed voyeur of special-effects and expert at fictional character creation.
Website: http://sherrellee.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Sherrellee.valens
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1E4qlDv
Twitter: @SherrelLeeBooks (Romantic Suspense) @gryphoenix (Urban Fantasy)
Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:�� http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2014/12/super-book-blast-exposed-by-rage-by.html
March 14, 2015
Spring is when the Meadowlark Sings
Originally posted on Pink Fuzzy Slippers Authors:
���In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.���
��� Margaret Atwood
���It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.���
��� Rainer Maria Rilke
Spring is coming to the valley this week, and we���re all ready to kick up our heels after the long winter. The post below is from last year, but it fits.
Heavy wet snow fell last night and the trees are laden, my crocus buried. But several afternoons ago after the rain showers ended, the day turned mild and I pulled some overwintering weeds from one of my flower borders. A whole wheelbarrow full. While bent contentedly to my labors, I heard the sweet trill of a meadowlark, my favorite songbird. Silent today. When the sun shines and the weather softens, I will hear it sing again. This crazy weather is typical of early���
View original 442 more words
March 13, 2015
My Website is a Work-In-Progress…Almost There!
Yesterday, I ventured out in the rain (it’s been raining all week!–where is Spring?) to go to the offices of�� Digital Impact Agency, the advertising agency for whom I write copy as Content Strategist.�� The owner of the agency helped me with my new website, and it looks 100% more professional!�� I have contacted the maker of the WordPress Theme to see why the image won’t show. Presumably, I have to upgrade to the Premium version.�� The header image is great, so I will upgrade if that solves the problem. The name of the theme is Asteria Lite.
Take a look and give me your opinion on the interim work:�� http://www.lindanightingale.com
The picture is the one I used for my Welcome Message.�� It’s also in my book video for Sinners’ Opera.
March 8, 2015
THE ARGENT STAR by Emerson Fray
THE AUTHOR WILL BE GIVING AWAY:�� $15 Amazon/BN GC
a Rafflecopter giveaway
BLURB:
What happens when your decisions affect an entire universe?
Ren Argent wanted to be an archeologist and spend her life exploring the lost cities of Earth. But when a new planet is discovered and her father is appointed King, she has to leave behind everything she knows to rule over a place she���s only heard of in legends.
Not long after her arrival she discovers there are insurgents hiding in the darkened forests and the planet is on the brink of civil war. It won���t be long until the Monarchy steps in to ���neutralize��� the threat.
Will she be able to stop the hostile takeover? Or will her actions ignite a rebellion across the universe?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
���He wants you to marry soon, but I think he���ll be happier if you���re dead.���
Ren knew Garret was trying to get her to marry someone on Novae but she hadn���t thought he���d be happier if she was dead. She didn���t think her death would benefit him in any way, actually. Or anyone, for that matter.
���Garret might be a snake, but he would be happier if I just married someone,��� Ren argued.
���He���d be happier if Elian was on the throne.���
That caught Ren by surprise. ���What do you mean?���
���Maks cannot be controlled,��� Sheridan cut in, her voice low. ���He does what he believes is right and best for the people, not the Monarchy. Elian is not as strong as Maks; he���d fold under their pressure.���
���Elian is plenty strong,��� Ren said. ���And if he were the King then he would be great. He would–���
���Be easily controlled,��� Abetha interrupted, ���at least Garret thinks so.���
Ren bit down on her bottom lip. ���No he wouldn���t.��� It was true though, and Elian had plenty of weaknesses they could exploit. All they had to do was threaten to take away his machines and he would crumble. But Ren wanted to think her brother had more integrity than that and shook her head.
���He would compared to Maks,��� Abetha said carefully. ���The Monarchy is having trouble keeping Maks under their thumb. He isn���t doing what they want here.���
���And what is it they want?��� Ren whispered. It was what she���d been trying to figure out ever since she���d left Earth.
In the darkness, Sheridan answered, ���Control.���
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Emerson Fray currently resides in Hamilton, Ontario. While most of her stories happen on other planets, she remains on Earth 24/7 hunting down hawks and bugs to photograph, as well as chasing her mother���s dog to reclaim stolen shoes. A self taught Pokemon trainer and coffee lover, she spends most of her valuable time pinning recipes she will never make on boards she will forget about.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/FrayEmerson
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/emersonfray
Blog: https://emersonfray.wordpress.com
FOR MORE CHANCES TO WIN, FOLLOW EMERSON ON HER TOUR:
http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2015/02/book-blast-argent-star-by-emerson-fray.html
March 6, 2015
The Summoning, Book One of the Ancient Gods Series is almost finished!
The polishing process with my critique partners, the wonderful author Beth Trissel and the imaginative multi-published author Toni Sweeney, is almost finished on this 207 page book.
The Summons is about a witch who doesn’t know she has such powers and the spirit she summons from another dimension.
Heather is a romance writer. Eryael is the elemental god of the wind and sea. The book is set in Jamaica.�� I think I will submit it to The Wild Rose Press, hoping they will contract it as they did Love for Sale.�� Now, however, my editor has another of my books (the only romance I’ve ever written in which the hero is human) called Gambler’s Choice, a novel about the horsey set.
EXCERPT:
Eyrael.
His name vibrated through his entire being. The intensity of the call shocked him. A sudden, unreasonable fear chilled him despite the warmth of the surrounding air. As he collected himself to respond, again another being���s panic seized him. Impossible but he was falling!
He was shrinking, compressing. It was a pleasant feeling, not painful, not frightening but interesting���a hugging together of his nebulous self. Disorientation should have alerted him that he was growing small enough to pass through, but it had been so long he���d forgotten.
This side of the curtain, time had no meaning. He remembered nothing of the other dimension���except that it existed in some vague, prickly memory.
Sofiel was with him, riding high on the crystal winds. His dark brother shot him a puzzled frown. He, too, felt the pull of the Summons. Faraway chants echoed, distant drums beating a seductive rhythm. A scream pierced him. Vague recollections of this tearing apart surfaced. The Summons was not for Sofiel. It was for Eyrael alone. Darkness blinded him, and he imploded.
Eyrael���s next awareness was the caress of a warm liquid caressing and supporting him as the air had done moments ago. Not only the water, but he was changing shape, forming, drawing tighter together. He tried to expand, met solid resistance. He found himself inside a grid work of bone and flesh. A flash of light sizzled from the sky to the sea, thunder booming in its wake. Every detail of his previous visits to this place manifested at once. Strange the way that happened. It was always the same. One minute, he recalled nothing; the next, he knew everything. Memories waltzed before his eyes, beckoning him deeper into the mortal fold, the place where the People lived.
Their drums resonated in his blood, chants welding him to their realm. They had named him God of Wind and Sea, but commanded him to their will.
He concentrated on the shape of the People, flexing his arms, stretching his legs. Both too long, he had to adjust. The beach seemed far away, those gathered around the ceremonial fire stick figures. He blew out a breath, and the wind howled. He rethought his height. Finally, he achieved the Eyrael they expected to answer their Summons.
The sea played with his shoulders and his hair. Eryael smiled his Pleasure.
A scream gurgled in the waves ahead. A head split the churning ocean. One of the People. I must rescue. He shook the mane of hair back from his face and considered that, perhaps, he had too much hair. The tiny being reappeared frantically battling itself, spouting water from its mouth. Its cries stabbed him like splinters of darkness, and the pain, as much as any sense of duty, tugged him toward the drowning creature.
���Eyrael!��� His name split the night sky, reverberating off the pinpoint stars.
He hated the mortal engaged in a hopeless skirmish with the water. Eyrael was irritated that its despair had somehow torn the curtain between the worlds and brought him over merely to sustain its brief flicker of life.
Silence. She no longer cried. Facedown, the waves washed a slender body toward the shore. A thrill shivered over his entire body. A woman, giver of the utmost Pleasure.
On the beach, dark shapes formed a half-circle around a soaring beacon fire. As one, they dropped to their knees and bent from the waist, their foreheads on the sand. A lone figure remained standing. The multi-colored feathers in the Shaman���s headdress danced in the wind of Eryael���s passage. Taino, young and virile, wise man, witch doctor, a powerful magic user. The Indian sorcerer pinned Eyrael with eyes cold and hard as onyx.
Ah, the woman is a sacrifice but not to me.
Eyrael was well aware this Shaman revered Sofiel. Taino thought to command Eyrael���s dark brother. A generation of the People had grown to manhood while the silence lasted between the spirits and the tribe. The witch doctor had summoned Sofiel, yet Eyrael had been pulled across. How could this be?
Still, he was in the land of the People. Perhaps, there was Pleasure to be had. At the very least, he could enjoy sight in the mortal sense. Sight brought with it emotion. Ah, emotion! Fierce and passionate. Sex with emotion was bliss. Heat throbbed low in his body. An image of a woman writhing beneath him intensified desire. The vision made his shaft grow hard.
The drowning woman bobbed on a wave. ���Eyrael,��� she prayed. ���I see you now. I���m coming.���
An invisible cord drew him closer to the sacrifice.
Eyrael. The woman, not the Shaman, had Summoned him. Indeed, she must be a powerful witch. He would rescue the sacrifice and foil the Shaman���s plans. Delighted, he laughed, the sound startling him. He had forgotten how mirth rumbled from human throats, but laughter like sight was Pleasure.
He lifted on the waves, flowing to the witch. She was still, appeared lifeless but he sensed her essence had not yet departed. He scooped her from the ocean into his arms. Her head drooped over the crook of his elbow, her long, rough gown molding to an exquisite body. Golden hair clung to a pale but beautiful face. Eyrael bent and kissed her mouth. At the touch of flesh on flesh, Pleasure stirred. He opened his mouth over hers, tracing her lower lip with his tongue. Fierce emotions and that wonder passion sizzled through him. She sputtered, coughing. He must revive the woman, carry her to the beach and take her hard and fast, the Shaman and his flock watching him, not Sofiel, enjoy the sacrifice.
He drew back, willing the pretty witch to live. Her eyelids flickered. She choked, another hard cough wracking her fragile body. Large eyes of a beautiful blue fluttered open, widened, and a lightning-like thrill zinged through Eyrael. Blue eyes were his favorite. Maybe he���d have blue eyes this visit. Spellbound, he bent to kiss her. The woman screamed, struggling in his embrace. Her sharp cry hurt his ears.
His arms tightened, cradling her to his chest. She was soft, her flesh yielding, and the feel of her breast against him exciting. ���Do not struggle. You are too weak.���
What did he look like to this creature? Hair the color of sea foam flowed over his shoulders. His eyes were the color of rainbows in glass. The People never feared him, but this golden-haired witch trembled in terror when she should be grateful. If he didn���t yearn to discover how she���d Summoned him, he���d allow his ocean claim her. The drums throbbed, low and angry. The Shaman���s resentment and frustration blew bitter on the wind. Dark emotions haunted the moonlit beach where the People paid homage to the wrong god. Soon, Taino would understand he could not command a spirit.
March 4, 2015
I Did It Again!
I made a book video for Bianca Swan’s Hot Spanish Nights (and this novella is HOT!)�� I can’t decide which music is better.�� Here are the two versions.�� Comments welcomed and encouraged!
With the Paso Doble:�� https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzI2xGnHg9w
With a classical waltz: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1uXWyPXOso
March 1, 2015
The Romance Reviews 4th Annual Anniversary Party Starts TODAY!!!
There are more than 350 participating authors and publishers, and�� more than 350 prizes up for grabs during the whole month of March.
Grand prize is a $100 Gift Certificate!
I’m there with prizes and my day is March 19th.�� See you then!!!???
You need to register and be logged in at TRR before you can play the game.
COME PLAY WITH US FOR GREAT PRIZES AND BUNCHES OF FUN!!!
February 24, 2015
Patting Myself on the Back!
I used Movie Maker to create a book video for my sci-fi romance, Love for Sale, to be released soon by The Wild Rose Press.�� Comments welcome!
