Sara Daniel's Blog, page 21
November 17, 2015
Texas Twister #shifterromance #fantasy by @Danawrite @etopiapress
Blurb:Texas Twister (Blue Moon Chronicles) by Dana Wright -
Romance>Fantasy
Sometimes love finds you in the darkest places.
Magdalay Rousseau is having a bad day. She can't find the
charging cable to her laptop, and when she goes into her husband's office to
look for it, she discovers he's been cheating on her. She decides to hire a
private investigator to dig into her husband's secrets, but what the detective
discovers about her turns her world upside-down.
Carter Zusak is a private detective--and a cat shifter. When
a new client shows up, he's almost certain she's a flake. What kind of woman
writes romance novels and owns a shop selling supplies for witches? He's sure
she's got a bat or two loose in her belfry--until he delves deeper into her
case. No one in her life is what they seem, and Magdalay has just put herself
in danger more insidious than he ever imagined. Something about this witch sets
his heart on fire. But he'll have to figure out a way to save her before they
both get burned...
Buy links:ARe: https://goo.gl/ULjS81Amazon: http://goo.gl/Bmm5ZZ
Info:Published By: Etopia PressPublished: Oct 27, 2015 ISBN # 9781944138158Pages: 99
Tags:blue moon chronicles, cat shifter, cisgender, dana wright,
etopia press, fantasy romance, ghost, heterosexual, magic, male / female,
paranormal, paranormal / horror, paranormal romance, private detective, private
investigator, shapeshifter, shifters, shifters / cats, shifters / felines,
supernatural, witch, wizard / witch / mystic
Excerpt:
CHAPTER ONEMagdalay Rousseau stared at her lifeless laptop and groaned.
It wouldn’t turn on. Again. So much for a lasting battery. Already irritated
from lack of sleep, she pressed the on button one more time and tried to recall
where she’d left the charger. It should be in the little plastic bag she
usually kept next to her laptop, but it wasn’t.“Great. I can’t believe this. I ought to just spell you and
be done with it.”She growled and pushed herself up from the small space at
the kitchen table. Perhaps it was in her work bag in the foyer. She hated
resorting to magic when real world solutions worked just fine. It had been a
point of contention with her mother for years. Besides, she wasn’t very good at
it. Wish for rain and get a flood in her kitchen. That was her life right now.Magdalay peered into the bag.Nothing.“Oh. This is just getting better and better.”Magdalay spun on her heel and considered her next move. She
had a deadline for her publisher, and today would be her only day off with no
distractions until next week. Not that she could focus anyway. Not with the
antics Russ was pulling lately. Her mind kept circling him like a dog with a
bone.He’d been out with the boys from the club, but something in
the back of her mind kept digging at her. Their poker games didn’t last that
long. Neither did their dinners at the club, which she now refused to attend.
Not after the last time with his uppity friends and their equally unpleasant
wives. She didn’t fit in with the country club scene, and that was more than
all right with her.Russ hadn’t come home—again—by the time her head hit the
pillow last night at midnight. It was becoming par for the course. Magdalay
couldn’t concentrate on anything and that included leaving her damn charging
cable someplace. She could swear it was next to her workstation last night when
she went to bed, but she could have been dreaming. She couldn’t remember, and
that just pissed her off, making her already foul mood even more noxious.“Did you wash my pants?” Russ called out from the bedroom,
his voice lacking any of the warmth she used to receive from him.“Yes,” she ground out, barely containing her urge to demand
where the hell he’d been all damned night. It didn’t do any good. He never
answered her anyway. “They’re folded on the dryer.”Her husband, Russ, clad in a blue pullover shirt and
tighty-whities bolted from their bedroom down the short hall toward the laundry
room. The door opened and shut, and she caught a streak of blue out of the
corner of her eye but no acknowledgement or thank you.Next time she ought to let his clothes just pile up and see
what happened. Well…she took that back. A week ago, she’d been too busy to keep
up with the laundry and he’d shaken her awake after a long day at the shop and
writing, demanding to know when she would get around to it. The icy stare was
enough to motivate her into preemptive action. She’d never been afraid of her
husband before that night, but things had changed between them at an alarming
rate.She poured the water into the coffeepot and flipped on the
switch, sighing as the rich aroma of the Columbian blend pervaded the kitchen.
It was still early, and she’d spent a sleepless night tossing and turning and
imagining his car wrapped around a pole or worse. The man hadn’t come home
until after two. At least that was the last time she recalled on the blinking
clock on the nightstand. Russ hadn’t even had the decency to let her know where
he was or if he was OK. Magdalay didn’t remember him sneaking in. She’d tried
to stay awake so she could talk to him or at least give him a piece of her
mind, but she must have drifted off in a wave of jittery exhaustion.Last night had just been the latest in a long line of
whatever was happening in their marriage and fixing it was becoming a pipe
dream. He’d grown more and more distant over the past three months and she
didn’t know what had gone wrong. Well…except for her working. He hated the
hours she spent away from home, but with her mother’s passing, Broomstix had
become hers. The irony wasn’t lost on her. A witch who didn’t want to be, or
worse yet, was terrible at it.She thought back to her mother’s last days and the love she
had for her trusty cat, Jules. They’d been inseparable.“You need a familiar, love. Sometimes having someone at your
back and by your side is the most powerful magic in the world.”Magdalay’s lips twisted and she sighed. It wasn’t like she
hadn’t tried. Every cat she’d gotten went missing in a matter of days. When
she’d gone to Russ about the missing animals, he’d had nothing to say.
Frustrating wasn’t even half the word for it. Perhaps she wasn’t cut out for
animals. Then she thought all she needed was her soul mate. That would have to
be enough. She’d always thought Russ was that person, but more and more, she
sensed a tremendous gulf between them, and it left her hollow inside.Last month she’d been at the stitching circle and each of
the ladies was practicing poppet magic. The little cloth dolls danced and
frolicked in anticipation of whatever task they were intended for. Hers lay
there, looking still and unresponsive. It was to be a creative muse for her
magic. She figured if she could cast a spell and have a poppet work on some of
her overdue plot lines and synopses, she’d be ahead of the game. No such luck.The stitching circle, full of her mother’s old friends,
thought it was hilarious. Now on top of her writing schedule, it was her
responsibility to keep Broomstix going. People depended on her, and she was
trying to learn as much as she could. Gaining the knowledge she needed wasn't
going as smooth as she’d like.Her gaze raked the cluttered counter where her husband paid
bills and recoiled. No way was she touching that. “Not a chance.” Then she
remembered Russ had the same model laptop she did. She could borrow his charger
and pick hers up tomorrow when she went back into work. Problem solved.“I’m out. See you tonight,” came the clipped response from
the front hallway followed by the slamming of the decorative lead glass door.
He hadn’t even come into the kitchen. Not even for coffee.“Wow.” Now she knew he was avoiding her and likely hiding
something. Magdalay shook her head, the bitterness of her new reality sliding
down her stomach like a Ping Pong ball. His behavior stung, and she didn’t know
what to make of it. She moved down the hall, her linen nightgown floating
around her legs. In the Texas heat, it helped to have something comfortable and
the Eileen West nightgowns were her guilty pleasure. Goddess knew she needed something.She paused in the doorway to his office and sighed. Goddess,
she hated invading his space. Maybe the charger was right out in the open and
she could snap it up and be out before she disturbed anything of importance.
Then she saw it. Propped on a pile of paperwork next to his computer was her
small, holiday design-covered Ziploc bag with her cord dangling off the desk
over the top of it.“What the heck?” Her lips slid into a frown and she
unclenched her hands. He took it. Probably to do the same thing she’d been
about to do, but at least she would have replaced his where she found it as
soon as she was done. She reached down to pick up the bag and wind up the
charging cord, and her hand brushed the mouse on his desk, the darkened screen
erupting to life. His e-mail was up. She wouldn’t have stopped save for the
name on the screen.WTF?Slowly, Magdalay lowered herself into the chair and began to
read. She hadn’t meant to intrude on his privacy. They’d always respected each
other enough to be honest. At least she’d always thought so. But with every
line she read, the trust she believed her marriage was based on was revealed to
be nothing more than a lie.She hated wives who resorted to sneaking into their
husband’s phone records and all of those things to find out what they’d been up
to. Now, here she was, and she didn’t have a clue what to do about it. What was
done was done and couldn’t be taken back. One e-mail turned into two. Two
turned into a dozen, and at that point she had to stop, the contents of her
stomach churning like wildfire in her gut.Fuck me. Fuck me like you did in your office.I want it all.You motherfucker.Tears stung her eyes. There was no other explanation was
there? It was all laid out in black and white. The only thing missing was a
frigging video of them fornicating. Her stomach lurched.The lump in her throat threatened to overtake her, and she
had to pause and take a deep breath. Her mother’s absence was a raw and gaping
wound. Eleanor would have known what to do, but Magdalay was frozen with
indecision. Her thoughts turned to the ladies in her stitching circle. They met
once a month but it wasn’t scheduled until next week. Goddess, but she sure
could use some comfort now. Or at least, a sounding board for her fury. Her
fingertips itched to zot the fucker but no…not yet. Not that she was fully
capable, but her circle was. She’d seen it time and again.But the emails…she read the last line again.I want to run my fingers down your long, long legs and part
your… She had to stop. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her once again.“You cheating bastard,” she whispered. She had to be sure.
It was possible it was only emails. In her heart, she knew that was a lie.
Magdalay stood, her knees shaking and made her way out of Russ’s office to her
work space in the kitchen. She hooked up the laptop to the charger and shoved
the plug into the wall.Magdalay considered her options. She could wait and confront
him when he got home. Whenever that would be.No.Or she could hex him where he stood and watch as his dick
shriveled up and fell off. A tiny smile twitched at the corner of her lips at
the idea. If only. With her luck, she’d turn him into an overlarge piece of
beef jerky and have to explain that one to the police.Not a good idea. Her magic was unpredictable at best. She’d
hid it from him, not wanting to go there. It wasn’t her fault she was born a
witch. It was her choice whether or not to use it. If something needing a spell
came up, she waited until her hubby was off doing engineer things or sleeping
in front of the television. Proof. She needed more proof. The laptop whirled to
life and she pulled up her search engine.What about a private detective? She had a little mad money
put aside for the dress she wanted for the romance writer’s convention in a few
months. Magdalay had no idea what the detective would cost, but she had to
know. With unblinking eyes she typed, private investigator Spinnaker, Texas
then she closed her eyes, rolled the mouse, and clicked on the Blue Moon
Detective Agency.
About the author:
Dana Wright has always had a fascination with things that go
bump in the night. She is often found playing at local bookstores, trying not
to maim herself with crochet hooks or knitting needles, watching monster movies
with her husband and furry kids or blogging about books. More commonly, she is
chained to her computers, writing like a woman possessed. She is currently
working on several children's stories, young adult fiction, romantic suspense,
short stories and is trying her hand at poetry. She is a contributing author to
Ghost Sniffer’s CYOA, Siren’s Call E-zine in their “Women in Horror” issue in
February 2013 and "Revenge" in October 2013, a contributing author to
Potatoes!, Fossil Lake, Of Dragons and Magic: Tales of the Lost Worlds, Undead
in Pictures, Potnia, Shadows and Light, Dark Corners (upcoming), Wonderstruck,
Shifters: A Charity Anthology, Dead Harvest, Monster Diaries, Holiday Horrors
and the Roms, Bombs and Zoms Anthology from Evil Girlfriend Media. She is the
author of Asylum, The Invitation and Texas Twister. Dana has also reviewed music for
Muzikreviews.com specializing in New Age and alternative music and has been a
contributing writer to Eternal Haunted Summer, Massacre Magazine, Metaphor
Magazine, The Were Traveler October 2013 edition: The Little Magazine of
Magnificent Monsters, the December 2013 issue The Day the Zombies Ruled the
Earth. She currently reviews music at New Age Music Reviews and Write a Music
Review.
Follow Dana’s reviews:
Twitter: @danawriteAuthor
site and newsletter: http://danawrightauthor.wix.com/danaw... fan page: https://www.facebook.com/danawrightau...
The Romance Reviews: http://www.theromancereviews.com/Dana...
November 15, 2015
Easy Apple Chutney #recipe from #fantasy author @chrispavesic
Fantasy author Chris Pavesic is in the kitchen with her delicious and healthy addition to your dinner menu. The kitchen is all yours, Chris.
This recipe is one of the first I make during the fall season to go along with the bountiful harvest of apples available in my area of the Midwest.
Photo by kornnphoto
I use organic ingredients whenever I can. I find that it improves the flavor and I think it is healthier for me and my family. However, this chutney can easily be made with non-organic ingredients as well. It is all up to you—the cook.
Traditionally apple chutney is a savory sauce made from apples, brown sugar, vinegar, onions and various herbs and spices. It has a sweet and tart flavor that complements meat dishes such as roast chicken, beef, ham and pork chops.
In my family, certain people are allergic to onions (myself included). So I adapt recipes to take these allergies into consideration. I thought I would share my recipe with you.
Easy Apple Chutney
⅔ cup brewed tea, warm*
8 organic ginger candies
5 large apples, peeled, cored, and diced.
1 cup celery, diced very fine
⅓ cup Key Lime Juice
¾ cup light brown sugar, lightly packed
¾ cup cider vinegar
1 tsp. dried mustard powder or 2 tsp. yellow mustard
1½ tsp. sea salt
¾ cup dried cherries
Partially dissolve the ginger candies in the tea. Do not be concerned if the ginger candies do not completely dissolve. They will continue to melt during the cooking.You can substitute 1 tbsp. powdered ginger or 2 tbsp. minced fresh ginger in place of the candies. If you do, increase the light brown sugar to 1 Cup, lightly packed.
Combine the tea mixture and all remaining ingredients into a Dutch Oven. Cover and simmer for 50 minutes on your stovetop, stirring occasionally. Remove the cover and cook for about another 20 minutes. You want the excess liquid to evaporate and the chutney to thicken.
Remove from the Dutch Oven and set aside to cool. Store covered in the refrigerator.
I like recipes that can be made in Dutch Ovens and Crock Pots. They really save a lot of time/effort. This one is probably one of the more elaborate ones—and yet the prep time is only about 15 minutes.
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cooking Time: 70 minutes
*I use Trader Joe’s Specialty Pomegranate White Tea made with Organic White Tea Leaves, Hibiscus Flowers, and Lemongrass.
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated in any way with any of the products/companies discussed in this post.)
Cheers!
Here is a brief introduction to Wonderland, the latest fantasy book by Chris Pavesic. Enjoy!
You may think you know her story.
You don't.
Throughout her life Alice has faced fear and isolation, but she has never given up hope. In the City by the Bay she has one last chance to find happiness; one last chance to find friendship; one last chance to find Wonderland.
Click here to watch the YouTube video.
Read excerpts from all of the books written by Chris Pavesic on Amazon.
Chris Pavesic is a fantasy author who lives in the Midwestern United States and loves Kona coffee, steampunk, fairy tales, and all types of speculative fiction. Between writing projects, Chris can most often be found reading, gaming, gardening, working on an endless list of DIY household projects, or hanging out with friends. Learn more about Chris on her website .
Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter .
This recipe is one of the first I make during the fall season to go along with the bountiful harvest of apples available in my area of the Midwest.
Photo by kornnphoto
I use organic ingredients whenever I can. I find that it improves the flavor and I think it is healthier for me and my family. However, this chutney can easily be made with non-organic ingredients as well. It is all up to you—the cook.
Traditionally apple chutney is a savory sauce made from apples, brown sugar, vinegar, onions and various herbs and spices. It has a sweet and tart flavor that complements meat dishes such as roast chicken, beef, ham and pork chops.
In my family, certain people are allergic to onions (myself included). So I adapt recipes to take these allergies into consideration. I thought I would share my recipe with you.
Easy Apple Chutney
⅔ cup brewed tea, warm*
8 organic ginger candies
5 large apples, peeled, cored, and diced.
1 cup celery, diced very fine
⅓ cup Key Lime Juice
¾ cup light brown sugar, lightly packed
¾ cup cider vinegar
1 tsp. dried mustard powder or 2 tsp. yellow mustard
1½ tsp. sea salt
¾ cup dried cherries
Partially dissolve the ginger candies in the tea. Do not be concerned if the ginger candies do not completely dissolve. They will continue to melt during the cooking.You can substitute 1 tbsp. powdered ginger or 2 tbsp. minced fresh ginger in place of the candies. If you do, increase the light brown sugar to 1 Cup, lightly packed.
Combine the tea mixture and all remaining ingredients into a Dutch Oven. Cover and simmer for 50 minutes on your stovetop, stirring occasionally. Remove the cover and cook for about another 20 minutes. You want the excess liquid to evaporate and the chutney to thicken.
Remove from the Dutch Oven and set aside to cool. Store covered in the refrigerator.I like recipes that can be made in Dutch Ovens and Crock Pots. They really save a lot of time/effort. This one is probably one of the more elaborate ones—and yet the prep time is only about 15 minutes.
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cooking Time: 70 minutes
*I use Trader Joe’s Specialty Pomegranate White Tea made with Organic White Tea Leaves, Hibiscus Flowers, and Lemongrass.
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated in any way with any of the products/companies discussed in this post.)
Cheers!
Here is a brief introduction to Wonderland, the latest fantasy book by Chris Pavesic. Enjoy!
You may think you know her story.
You don't.
Throughout her life Alice has faced fear and isolation, but she has never given up hope. In the City by the Bay she has one last chance to find happiness; one last chance to find friendship; one last chance to find Wonderland.
Click here to watch the YouTube video.
Read excerpts from all of the books written by Chris Pavesic on Amazon.
Chris Pavesic is a fantasy author who lives in the Midwestern United States and loves Kona coffee, steampunk, fairy tales, and all types of speculative fiction. Between writing projects, Chris can most often be found reading, gaming, gardening, working on an endless list of DIY household projects, or hanging out with friends. Learn more about Chris on her website .
Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter .
November 12, 2015
The Wild Life by @WeitzMysteries #wildlife #nature
THE WILD LIFE
by Michael Weitz
Growing up in a small rural community has its charms though we rarely appreciate them until we’ve grown up. One of the things I enjoyed was looking for deer, badgers, coyotes, birds and whatever else might be wild and not on a farm. It passed the time while my dad drove us through the surrounding agricultural fields on our way to a movie or to the home of a friend who happened to live seven miles out of town and surrounded by acres of wheat fields.
Today I live in a larger city that, if they’re smart, animals of an untamed nature tend to shy away from. After all, a raccoon driving a minivan around town to pick up his forest pals just doesn’t wash unless it’s in a Pixar movie, right? Besides, even though a raccoon has “hands” that could grasp the steering wheel, it lacks the size to reach the gas pedal and still be able to see where it’s going. That being said, my neighborhood surrounds a pond that is home to a number of creatures and my wife and I feel very lucky to be able to sit and watch their activities while we relax after a long day.
There are Canada geese, but the Canada moniker seems dicey because every spring we watch the newly-hatched goslings form a maritime train behind their parents in our pond so there is obviously some dual citizenship agreement; frogs and toads perform a nightly chorus that sounds more like broken fog horns than anything of the “ribbit” variety; Mallard ducks build their nests and receive an occasional visit from a colorful Wood duck, and there’s a turtle or two who are only seen when they sun themselves on a rock. We’ve even spied a fox trotting through our neighbors yard, but my favorite is a Blue Heron that appears nearly every day to stand majestically along the shore. It’s all very serene.
We’d recently bought our house and had been living in it for a few months before I finally dug out our binoculars in order to get a better look at the heron we’d arbitrarily dubbed “Simon.” The bright yellow eyes glared down his saber-like beak seemingly fixed in a permanent scowl of concentration. His grayish blue plumage smoothed back as he slowly stepped into the water of the pond. “Honey, come check out Simon!” I called to my wife. “The binoculars really bring him in close.”
She’d just poured a glass of wine and came outside to enjoy the warm weather. I handed her the optics and pointed to where the bird was standing stock-still. She looked through the binoculars and said, “Ooh, he’s so neat. He’s looking at something under the water. I wonder if-Oh! Blegh! He got a frog!”
“What? Let me look!” I said. She handed me the binoculars and I quickly focused on Simon. Sure enough he had a frog the size of a football dangling from the end of his beak. No sooner had I seen this, though, than the bird dropped the frog onto the grass and stared as it leaped twice and back into the water. Two giant steps and a flap of his mighty wings brought Simon to the water’s edge just as fast and with a lunge he snatched the frog and brought it back ashore. Again he dropped it and again he caught it and brought it back from the water.
“Do you want to look somemo…” That’s when Simon cocked his long neck into an S and with Bruce Lee-like speed, unleashed his beak of fury. In a flash Simon stabbed the frog, reared back and stabbed it twice more. That frog was dead, yep, no question. “Never mind, honey,” I mumbled and tried not to retch. The swift and bloody violence was shocking and worthy of a Scorsese film.
But I kept watching. The prey was dead, the predator victorious, now it was time to dine. If you’ve seen a heron, you know their necks are about as wide as a champagne flute and there are no knives and forks available at the pond side restaurant. I was genuinely, if somewhat morbidly, curious to see how Simon intended to down his dinner. In fact, it was a gluttonous scene of maneuvering the carcass into his mouth head first, lifting his head high and swallowing the frog whole. Through the binoculars I was awarded a splendid view as Simon’s neck swelled to near bursting as the night’s menu slid down into his stomach. No sooner had his neck returned to its slender, graceful state than he knocked back a quick sip of pond water. If he had lips I swear he would have smacked them.
That was the first time we’d witnessed Simon dining on the local wildlife and it was the last time my wife took up the binoculars to look upon his beauty. But we still feel blessed to live here on the pond. Simon has grown fatter and the number of frog voices singing the nightly song has diminished, but we’ve seen other birds and been visited by the occasional mammal. Oddly enough though, no raccoon. Although now that I think about it, there were some unaccounted for miles on the car after I left the garage door open the other night...
All my best,
Michael Weitz
Here is a short intro to Michael’s mystery novel for your reading pleasure.
Making house calls or meeting people in public places is how Ray Gordon makes his living. He’s not a doctor. He’s not a prostitute. Ray Gordon is a chess teacher.
When one of Ray’s students, Walter Kelly, is found dead in his shop, the police and his family let it go as an accident. Ray, however, doesn’t buy it. As a former cop with a lingering curiosity, Ray snoops around and stumbles into the murky world of methamphetamine, the worst drug epidemic of our time.
The problem? Walter Kelly was sixty-five years old and his only addictions were woodworking and chess. How does a sixty-five-year-old man become involved with illegal drugs? Why is a neighbor glad Walter’s dead? And just how do dead men play chess?
EXCERPT
To take my mind off the task at hand, I thought about Brian Kelly. Was it just the cabin going to waste that rubbed him the wrong way or was it the land value he was afraid of missing out on? Real estate assessments had been big news over the last month or two. Housing prices and land deals had gone berserk and sellers were making massive profits. Maybe Brian was in trouble financially and he just couldn’t take it anymore? Walt refused to sell and Brian killed him for it, knowing the cabin would eventually come into his hands or he would at least be able to talk his mother into putting the land up for sale.
Outside, I heard Ed Carter’s back door creak open and closed. I poured fresh water over the floor and started mopping it up. If Ed planned on being neighborly again, I didn’t think he needed to witness the clean-up process. But after several minutes passed without an appearance from the Kellys’ neighbor, I began my attack on the table saw with a scouring pad.
Just as I got into a nice scrubbing rhythm, Morphy growled low in his throat and raised his head off of his paws. I stopped and watched him. His ears were erect and his gaze was on the window behind me. Goose flesh erupted on my arms. To hide the shiver that ran down my spine, I resumed wiping down the table saw with calm casualness. I kept my attention focused on Morphy, though, and he growled again. This time, the hair over his shoulders stiffened and rose up as his emotions kicked in. Someone was watching or trying to look in the window. Morphy wouldn’t get so angry over something like a skunk or a cat.
I twisted around just as Morphy leapt to his feet and barked. Someone ducked down before I could see a face. I ran to the door and pulled it open. Morphy tore around the corner, barking after the intruder and I followed as close as I could.
In the darkness of Margie Kelly’s backyard, I saw Morphy’s blond fur disappear into the black shadow of Walt’s shop. He chased a dim figure, which ran toward the back of the property, to Helen Parker’s house. I ran full out once I saw the shadowy form of the person who had been spying through the window. Gone were the trepidations of twisted ankles and bloodied shins from unseen objects lying hidden on the grass.
I ran.
Even Dead Men Play Chess
Amazon
CreateSpace
Michael Weitz is an award-winning author who grew up in the Pacific Northwest, usually reading anything he could get his hands on. He wrote his first novel in the 6th Grade -- an eight page rip-off of Star Wars.
A variety of jobs including waiter, gas station attendant, truck driver and a host of others, helped shape his world. After college he landed in the television industry where he wrote and produced a multitude of award-winning commercials, two documentaries about Mt. St. Helens and various other projects.
After a few years in Phoenix, AZ, Michael, his wife, and their dogs are back in the Pacific Northwest. Currently working on the next Ray Gordon mystery, Michael may also be found reading, playing chess or shooting pool. As an avid photographer, he enjoys traveling anywhere picturesque with his wife.
Learn more about Michael Weitz on his website and Goodreads .
Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter .
by Michael Weitz
Growing up in a small rural community has its charms though we rarely appreciate them until we’ve grown up. One of the things I enjoyed was looking for deer, badgers, coyotes, birds and whatever else might be wild and not on a farm. It passed the time while my dad drove us through the surrounding agricultural fields on our way to a movie or to the home of a friend who happened to live seven miles out of town and surrounded by acres of wheat fields.
Today I live in a larger city that, if they’re smart, animals of an untamed nature tend to shy away from. After all, a raccoon driving a minivan around town to pick up his forest pals just doesn’t wash unless it’s in a Pixar movie, right? Besides, even though a raccoon has “hands” that could grasp the steering wheel, it lacks the size to reach the gas pedal and still be able to see where it’s going. That being said, my neighborhood surrounds a pond that is home to a number of creatures and my wife and I feel very lucky to be able to sit and watch their activities while we relax after a long day. There are Canada geese, but the Canada moniker seems dicey because every spring we watch the newly-hatched goslings form a maritime train behind their parents in our pond so there is obviously some dual citizenship agreement; frogs and toads perform a nightly chorus that sounds more like broken fog horns than anything of the “ribbit” variety; Mallard ducks build their nests and receive an occasional visit from a colorful Wood duck, and there’s a turtle or two who are only seen when they sun themselves on a rock. We’ve even spied a fox trotting through our neighbors yard, but my favorite is a Blue Heron that appears nearly every day to stand majestically along the shore. It’s all very serene.
We’d recently bought our house and had been living in it for a few months before I finally dug out our binoculars in order to get a better look at the heron we’d arbitrarily dubbed “Simon.” The bright yellow eyes glared down his saber-like beak seemingly fixed in a permanent scowl of concentration. His grayish blue plumage smoothed back as he slowly stepped into the water of the pond. “Honey, come check out Simon!” I called to my wife. “The binoculars really bring him in close.”
She’d just poured a glass of wine and came outside to enjoy the warm weather. I handed her the optics and pointed to where the bird was standing stock-still. She looked through the binoculars and said, “Ooh, he’s so neat. He’s looking at something under the water. I wonder if-Oh! Blegh! He got a frog!”
“What? Let me look!” I said. She handed me the binoculars and I quickly focused on Simon. Sure enough he had a frog the size of a football dangling from the end of his beak. No sooner had I seen this, though, than the bird dropped the frog onto the grass and stared as it leaped twice and back into the water. Two giant steps and a flap of his mighty wings brought Simon to the water’s edge just as fast and with a lunge he snatched the frog and brought it back ashore. Again he dropped it and again he caught it and brought it back from the water.
“Do you want to look somemo…” That’s when Simon cocked his long neck into an S and with Bruce Lee-like speed, unleashed his beak of fury. In a flash Simon stabbed the frog, reared back and stabbed it twice more. That frog was dead, yep, no question. “Never mind, honey,” I mumbled and tried not to retch. The swift and bloody violence was shocking and worthy of a Scorsese film.
But I kept watching. The prey was dead, the predator victorious, now it was time to dine. If you’ve seen a heron, you know their necks are about as wide as a champagne flute and there are no knives and forks available at the pond side restaurant. I was genuinely, if somewhat morbidly, curious to see how Simon intended to down his dinner. In fact, it was a gluttonous scene of maneuvering the carcass into his mouth head first, lifting his head high and swallowing the frog whole. Through the binoculars I was awarded a splendid view as Simon’s neck swelled to near bursting as the night’s menu slid down into his stomach. No sooner had his neck returned to its slender, graceful state than he knocked back a quick sip of pond water. If he had lips I swear he would have smacked them.
That was the first time we’d witnessed Simon dining on the local wildlife and it was the last time my wife took up the binoculars to look upon his beauty. But we still feel blessed to live here on the pond. Simon has grown fatter and the number of frog voices singing the nightly song has diminished, but we’ve seen other birds and been visited by the occasional mammal. Oddly enough though, no raccoon. Although now that I think about it, there were some unaccounted for miles on the car after I left the garage door open the other night...
All my best,
Michael Weitz
Here is a short intro to Michael’s mystery novel for your reading pleasure.
Making house calls or meeting people in public places is how Ray Gordon makes his living. He’s not a doctor. He’s not a prostitute. Ray Gordon is a chess teacher.When one of Ray’s students, Walter Kelly, is found dead in his shop, the police and his family let it go as an accident. Ray, however, doesn’t buy it. As a former cop with a lingering curiosity, Ray snoops around and stumbles into the murky world of methamphetamine, the worst drug epidemic of our time.
The problem? Walter Kelly was sixty-five years old and his only addictions were woodworking and chess. How does a sixty-five-year-old man become involved with illegal drugs? Why is a neighbor glad Walter’s dead? And just how do dead men play chess?
EXCERPT
To take my mind off the task at hand, I thought about Brian Kelly. Was it just the cabin going to waste that rubbed him the wrong way or was it the land value he was afraid of missing out on? Real estate assessments had been big news over the last month or two. Housing prices and land deals had gone berserk and sellers were making massive profits. Maybe Brian was in trouble financially and he just couldn’t take it anymore? Walt refused to sell and Brian killed him for it, knowing the cabin would eventually come into his hands or he would at least be able to talk his mother into putting the land up for sale.
Outside, I heard Ed Carter’s back door creak open and closed. I poured fresh water over the floor and started mopping it up. If Ed planned on being neighborly again, I didn’t think he needed to witness the clean-up process. But after several minutes passed without an appearance from the Kellys’ neighbor, I began my attack on the table saw with a scouring pad.
Just as I got into a nice scrubbing rhythm, Morphy growled low in his throat and raised his head off of his paws. I stopped and watched him. His ears were erect and his gaze was on the window behind me. Goose flesh erupted on my arms. To hide the shiver that ran down my spine, I resumed wiping down the table saw with calm casualness. I kept my attention focused on Morphy, though, and he growled again. This time, the hair over his shoulders stiffened and rose up as his emotions kicked in. Someone was watching or trying to look in the window. Morphy wouldn’t get so angry over something like a skunk or a cat.
I twisted around just as Morphy leapt to his feet and barked. Someone ducked down before I could see a face. I ran to the door and pulled it open. Morphy tore around the corner, barking after the intruder and I followed as close as I could.
In the darkness of Margie Kelly’s backyard, I saw Morphy’s blond fur disappear into the black shadow of Walt’s shop. He chased a dim figure, which ran toward the back of the property, to Helen Parker’s house. I ran full out once I saw the shadowy form of the person who had been spying through the window. Gone were the trepidations of twisted ankles and bloodied shins from unseen objects lying hidden on the grass.
I ran.
Even Dead Men Play Chess
Amazon
CreateSpace
Michael Weitz is an award-winning author who grew up in the Pacific Northwest, usually reading anything he could get his hands on. He wrote his first novel in the 6th Grade -- an eight page rip-off of Star Wars.A variety of jobs including waiter, gas station attendant, truck driver and a host of others, helped shape his world. After college he landed in the television industry where he wrote and produced a multitude of award-winning commercials, two documentaries about Mt. St. Helens and various other projects.
After a few years in Phoenix, AZ, Michael, his wife, and their dogs are back in the Pacific Northwest. Currently working on the next Ray Gordon mystery, Michael may also be found reading, playing chess or shooting pool. As an avid photographer, he enjoys traveling anywhere picturesque with his wife.
Learn more about Michael Weitz on his website and Goodreads .
Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter .
November 11, 2015
#CoverReveal Sophie's Voice @HelenHardt @BareNakedWords @bnwauthorservices #historicalromance
Book: Sophie’s Voice Author: Helen HardtGenre: Victorian era, erotic, historicalRelease Date – 9th February 2016
Amazon Pre-order
Goodreads Book Link
Synopsis
Lady Sophie MacIntyre has the voice of an angel, but due to her timid nature, no one ever hears it. After losing a bet to her conniving sister, Sophie auditions for the new musicale at the Regal Theatre run by handsome actor Zachary Newland. Though distracted by Zach’s elegant masculinity and her own nerves, she sings well and earns a role in the production.
Zach is a confirmed bachelor, and his taste in women leans toward the glamorous and uninhibited…until he meets the demure Sophie. Her delicate soprano and understated beauty captivate him. She responds to his inappropriate kiss, but quickly dismisses the heat between them. She’s a lady of the peerage, after all, and not one to associate with a rake like him.
Zach, however, is not so easily dissuaded. He gets what he wants, and he intends to help Sophie find her true voice…in more ways than one.
Pre-Order Links
Amazon: http://amzn.com/B017TMABM8
Amazon Print: http://amzn.to/1YOzQOZB&N Print: http://bit.ly/1JB7u4wiBooks: http://apple.co/1N10cd9Kobo: http://bit.ly/1WK1DfFGoogle Play: http://bit.ly/1iLKo0hBooks-A-Million: http://bit.ly/1Ms1gW6
Author Bio
Helen Hardt is an attorney and stay-at-home mom turned award-winning romance author and freelance fiction editor. She writes contemporary, historical, paranormal, and erotic romance from her home in Colorado. She’s a mother, a black belt in Taekwondo, a grammar geek, an avid fan of opera and football (as long as her older son and younger son are performing/playing, respectively), and a lover of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.
Social Links
FacebookTwitterGoodreads Author
November 10, 2015
Turkey Breast on the Grill #recipe @sloanetaylor2 #internationalromance
Guest Post by Sloane Taylor
This is really Studs’ recipe, but I hijacked it for you all. It’s a perfect fall meal and easy to prepare. Plus, the leftover turkey makes marvelous sandwiches.
Turkey Breast on the Grill
Baked Potatoes on the Grill
Sautéed Broccoli
White Wine – Riesling
Turkey Breast on the Grill
1 leek - chopped
1 large onion - chopped
10 baby carrots - chopped
3 tomatoes - chopped
Turkey Breast
Bacon strips to cover breast
Chicken stock
Disposable pan
Cooking rack
Cookie sheet – for stability and to prevent pan from burning
Thaw turkey breast in refrigerator for at least one day. Dispose of packet inserted in breast. If not completely thawed, set in a large pot of cold water to complete. Rinse well.
This method is for a gas grill. Preheat grill, both burners, on medium for 15 minutes. Total cooking time is 2 to 3 hours.
Set disposable pan on cookies sheet. Insert cooking rack. Add chopped vegetables. Pat turkey skin dry then place on rack breast up. Lay bacon slices over breast to cover well. Pour in enough chicken broth to cover the pan bottom at least 1 inch. Cover the turkey and pan edges with aluminum foil, crimping the sides well.
Place pan in the middle of the grill. Close lid.
Check the liquid level every hour of roasting. Add water as needed.
Remove foil after 1 ½ hours to allow turkey to brown a bit.
Remove from heat when done. Allow to rest 15 minutes before carving.
Baked Potatoes on the Grill
1 russet potato per person
Olive oil
Aluminum foil
Butter
Sour cream
Chives
Pepper
Wash and dry the potatoes. Rub a little olive oil over each potato to moisten the skin. Rip off aluminum foil square large enough to wrap each potato separately.
Place potatoes on upper shelf of grill or, if you have enough space, alongside the turkey pan. Grill for 45 minutes to 1 hour. Test if done by poking a potato with a toothpick. It should insert easily.
To serve, remove foil, slit potatoes open, press the sides together to allow potato to mound. Top with the butter, sour cream, chives, and pepper.
Sautéed Broccoli
1 fresh broccoli
3 tbsp. olive oil
2 tbsp. butter
1 glove garlic pressed
¼ cup Parmesan cheese
Cut broccoli segments from the stem. Discard stem.
Preheat a frying pan over medium heat. Pour in olive oil, then add butter. When the foam subsides, add the broccoli pieces, turning them to coat well with the oil and butter. You may need a little more oil. Be careful not to add too much.
Add the pressed garlic over the top of the broccoli. Sauté until just tender, about 6 minutes.
Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and serve.
~~~~~
Those Naughty Ladies of Nice are back on the net strutting their stuff. The gals have new covers along with expanded stories. Doni, Lisette, and Claudette are excited to meet you. Here's a sneak peek at Book One in the series.
Bon Appétit...
Satisfy all your cravings at cooking school.
Determined to prove herself and shed her party girl image, Donatienne Dubois pins her hopes on the exclusive cooking school in Nice, France. One by one her expectations are shattered by a foul-mouthed parrot, a bogus Michelin chef, and a headmistress with a heart of tungsten steel. Doni's lifesaver is a bad boy hunk too hot not to handle.
Mark Anderson is incognito and hating every minute. To pose as a student while keeping tabs on a rich wild child is his version of hell, until he partners with the dish of Crème Brule good enough to eat.
Class takes on a whole new meaning as Doni and Mark heat up the kitchen when they discover honey has better uses than sweetening tea.
Award-Winning author Sloane Taylor is a sensual woman who believes humor and sex are healthy aspects of our everyday lives and carries that philosophy into her books. She writes sexually explicit romances that takes you right into the bedroom. Being a true romantic, all her stories have a happy ever after.
Her books are set in Europe where the men are all male and the North American women they encounter are both feminine and strong. They also bring more than lust to their men’s lives.
Taylor was born and raised on the Southside of Chicago. Studly, her mate for life, and Taylor now live in a small home in Indiana and enjoy the change from city life. She is an avid cook and posts new recipes on her blog http://sloanetaylor.blogspot.com every Wednesday. The recipes are user friendly, meaning easy.
Taylor currently has six erotic romance books and one box set released by Toque & Dagger Publishing. Excerpts from her books can be found on her website http://www.sloanetaylor.com, blog http://sloanetaylor.blogspot.com/, and all popular vendors.
Subscribe to Sloane’s newsletter http://www.sloanetaylor.com/cgi-bin/d.... Connect with Taylor on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSloane..., Twitter https://twitter.com/sloanetaylor2, and Google+ https://plus.google.com/1167926609826....
This is really Studs’ recipe, but I hijacked it for you all. It’s a perfect fall meal and easy to prepare. Plus, the leftover turkey makes marvelous sandwiches.
Turkey Breast on the Grill
Baked Potatoes on the Grill
Sautéed Broccoli
White Wine – Riesling
Turkey Breast on the Grill
1 leek - chopped1 large onion - chopped
10 baby carrots - chopped
3 tomatoes - chopped
Turkey Breast
Bacon strips to cover breast
Chicken stock
Disposable pan
Cooking rack
Cookie sheet – for stability and to prevent pan from burning
Thaw turkey breast in refrigerator for at least one day. Dispose of packet inserted in breast. If not completely thawed, set in a large pot of cold water to complete. Rinse well.
This method is for a gas grill. Preheat grill, both burners, on medium for 15 minutes. Total cooking time is 2 to 3 hours.
Set disposable pan on cookies sheet. Insert cooking rack. Add chopped vegetables. Pat turkey skin dry then place on rack breast up. Lay bacon slices over breast to cover well. Pour in enough chicken broth to cover the pan bottom at least 1 inch. Cover the turkey and pan edges with aluminum foil, crimping the sides well.
Place pan in the middle of the grill. Close lid.
Check the liquid level every hour of roasting. Add water as needed.
Remove foil after 1 ½ hours to allow turkey to brown a bit.
Remove from heat when done. Allow to rest 15 minutes before carving.
Baked Potatoes on the Grill
1 russet potato per person
Olive oil
Aluminum foil
Butter
Sour cream
Chives
Pepper
Wash and dry the potatoes. Rub a little olive oil over each potato to moisten the skin. Rip off aluminum foil square large enough to wrap each potato separately.
Place potatoes on upper shelf of grill or, if you have enough space, alongside the turkey pan. Grill for 45 minutes to 1 hour. Test if done by poking a potato with a toothpick. It should insert easily.
To serve, remove foil, slit potatoes open, press the sides together to allow potato to mound. Top with the butter, sour cream, chives, and pepper.
Sautéed Broccoli
1 fresh broccoli
3 tbsp. olive oil
2 tbsp. butter
1 glove garlic pressed
¼ cup Parmesan cheese
Cut broccoli segments from the stem. Discard stem.
Preheat a frying pan over medium heat. Pour in olive oil, then add butter. When the foam subsides, add the broccoli pieces, turning them to coat well with the oil and butter. You may need a little more oil. Be careful not to add too much.
Add the pressed garlic over the top of the broccoli. Sauté until just tender, about 6 minutes.
Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and serve.
~~~~~
Those Naughty Ladies of Nice are back on the net strutting their stuff. The gals have new covers along with expanded stories. Doni, Lisette, and Claudette are excited to meet you. Here's a sneak peek at Book One in the series.
Bon Appétit...Satisfy all your cravings at cooking school.
Determined to prove herself and shed her party girl image, Donatienne Dubois pins her hopes on the exclusive cooking school in Nice, France. One by one her expectations are shattered by a foul-mouthed parrot, a bogus Michelin chef, and a headmistress with a heart of tungsten steel. Doni's lifesaver is a bad boy hunk too hot not to handle.
Mark Anderson is incognito and hating every minute. To pose as a student while keeping tabs on a rich wild child is his version of hell, until he partners with the dish of Crème Brule good enough to eat.
Class takes on a whole new meaning as Doni and Mark heat up the kitchen when they discover honey has better uses than sweetening tea.
Award-Winning author Sloane Taylor is a sensual woman who believes humor and sex are healthy aspects of our everyday lives and carries that philosophy into her books. She writes sexually explicit romances that takes you right into the bedroom. Being a true romantic, all her stories have a happy ever after.Her books are set in Europe where the men are all male and the North American women they encounter are both feminine and strong. They also bring more than lust to their men’s lives.
Taylor was born and raised on the Southside of Chicago. Studly, her mate for life, and Taylor now live in a small home in Indiana and enjoy the change from city life. She is an avid cook and posts new recipes on her blog http://sloanetaylor.blogspot.com every Wednesday. The recipes are user friendly, meaning easy.
Taylor currently has six erotic romance books and one box set released by Toque & Dagger Publishing. Excerpts from her books can be found on her website http://www.sloanetaylor.com, blog http://sloanetaylor.blogspot.com/, and all popular vendors.
Subscribe to Sloane’s newsletter http://www.sloanetaylor.com/cgi-bin/d.... Connect with Taylor on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSloane..., Twitter https://twitter.com/sloanetaylor2, and Google+ https://plus.google.com/1167926609826....
November 8, 2015
Spirit Board: Arcane Imaginarium: Book 1 @ErzabetBishop @etopiapress #menage #BDSM
Genre: PNR/shifters/Fae
Pairing: m/f/m, ménage
Pages: 99
Tags: shifter, ménage,
romance, fantasy, paranormal, m/f/m, Fae, cats, club, BDSM, spanking
Blurb:
Two mates are better than one...
Vanessa lives vicariously through the romance heroines in
her overflowing bookshelf. No real man can ever measure up to the sultry,
shapeshifter heroes with their feral smiles—or so she thinks until a creepy
costume shop and a chance encounter with a fortuneteller shake up her ordinary
life. When Vanessa’s best friend brings her to a sexy costume party, she
realizes more than fur is going to fly.
Rick is an Alpha cat shifter and co-owner of the
Imaginarium. When he scents the luscious Vanessa, he has no intention of
letting her slip away. But Rick isn’t the only man searching for his one true
love. Cian is a former Captain of the Winter Court in Faery, wielder of shadows
and magic. When Fey enchantment and shifter might collide, more than mere
hearts are caught in the crossfire. And as a threat looms closer with the
turning of the season, both men may be the keys to Vanessa’s heart—and her
survival.
Buy link:Amazon: http://goo.gl/zZw1jc
Excerpt:
“Do you want your fortune told, my dear?” The crone’s rheumy
eyes met hers, and a shiver slid down her back. The woman gave her the willies.“I...”“Please. Be my guest. It will be my treat to show you your
fortune.”Indecision warred within her. “I’m here with my friend.”“Go ahead! Get your fortune read.” Aria came up beside her
and looped an arm around her neck. “Let’s find out what kind of night you’re
going to have at the party.”“OK.” Vanessa made her way to the small table and lowered
herself into the seat. In front of her laid a strange-looking Ouija board
printed with an alphabet and a yes and no.The older woman took an item out of a wooden box and placed
it carefully on the surface of the board.“What’s that?”“It’s called a planchette, silly.” Aria rolled her eyes and
grinned at the annoyed look Vanessa gave her.“I’ve never used one of these, OK? My father would kill me.”“Why? Does he think they’re a portal to some other dimension
or something?”Vanessa wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure. He just never let
anything like it in the house. It’s beautiful.” The workmanship of the board
and the intricate lettering transfixed her. She reached out to touch the
planchette but the older woman stopped her.“Not yet, my girl. First you must think of a question.”“What kind of question?”The woman’s thin lips curved upward. “The spirit board offers
much guidance but also warns of things to come. Ask the right questions and
you’ll find the answers you seek.”“Cryptic, much?” Aria yawned. “Why don’t you play with the
board and I’ll find you something to wear.”“Sure. Whatever.” Vanessa focused her attention on the board
in front of her. The letters weaved in front of her eyes.“Now,” the old woman began, her eyes bright in her pale
face, “think of the question you would like to ask the spirits. But be warned…”“Of what?”“The truth can wound or it can set you free.”Vanessa held out her hand and the old woman enveloped it in
her own. She placed Vanessa’s hand on the planchette and released her.
“Fingertips only. Now…think of what you want to ask.”Vanessa moved her fingers until only the tips touched the
planchette. Her mind raced. There were so many questions she wanted answers to.
Who was her mother? Not her father’s wife, but her biological mother. Should
she go to this party with Aria on Friday or stay home like she always did, safe
behind a pile of books?Before the woman placed her own fingertips on the
planchette, it took off toward the yes. Then it sped to the letters and began
to spell out something.“What the—?” Vanessa snatched her fingers away as if they’d
been singed.“Goddess…” The fortune-teller stood abruptly, knocking her
chair over. Her brow contorted and her eyes were owlish with fear showing a
ring of veined white around the iris. “Stop.”“It’s still moving,” Vanessa whispered, her pulse hammering
beneath her skin. “I’m trying to make out what it’s saying, but the thing is
going too fast.”“What’s going on over here?” Aria scrambled back toward the
table, an expression of horror on her face. “Jesus, Vanessa.”“I didn’t do it,” she snapped. “It’s wigging out.”“Obviously.”The old woman backed up, her eyes wide. “You must go to the
party. Something you need will be revealed to you there. That is all I can tell
you.” With that, she yanked the planchette off the board and swiftly tucked it
back into the wooden box it came from. Without looking at either of the girls,
the fortune-teller retreated into the back room, the door shutting behind her
with a resounding thud.“Thanks,” Vanessa called, a little too late.“OK then. That wasn’t weird.” Aria grimaced. “Come on. I
have a couple of dresses you need to look at.”“Yeah. Sure. OK.” Anything to get her mind off of whatever
just happened. “Freaky” didn’t even begin to cover it.“How about this?” Aria raised her arm and a flowing Egyptian
priestess costume dangled from her fingertips. The white fabric was sheer, but
it had so many layers, it had the potential to work. Around the hanger was a
plastic bag complete with golden armbands and some kind of bluish lapis
necklace.“OK,” Vanessa replied reluctantly. “Hand it over.”Aria scurried over and passed the dress off, a smirk on her
full lips. “This is going to look great on you. Just wait.”“Sure.” As long as it got her out of here faster. Vanessa
decided putting distance between the fortune-teller and her would be a good
thing. “Why did I let you talk me into this again?”“Cause you love me and you’ll have lots of fun?”“You haven’t even told me what kind of party it is.”Aria gave her a cheeky grin. “And ruin the surprise?”
About the author:
Erzabet Bishop is an award winning author who loves to write
naughty stories. She is the author of Lipstick, Dinner Date, Crave, The Science
of Lust, Arcane Imaginarium: Spirit Board, Holidays in Hell, Mallory’s Mark
(upcoming 2016),The Devil’s Due (upcoming 2016), Charity Benshaw’s Enchanted
Paddle Emporium (upcoming 2016), Sigil Fire, Glitter Lust (upcoming 2016),
Written on Skin, Club Beam, Pomegranate, A Red Dress for Christmas, The Black
Magic Café, Fantasies in Red, Sweet Seductions: The Erzabet Bishop Collection,
Holiday Cruise, Fetish Fair, Temptation Resorts: Jess, Temptation Resorts:
Marnie, Taming the Beast, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain
Shadows and Yuletide Temptation along with being a contributor to many
anthologies. Erzabet has been a finalist in the GCLS awards for 2014 and 2015,
winning the Goldie for her spot in two anthologies. She lives in Texas with her
husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She
loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies. When she
isn’t writing, she loves to review music and books.
Follow her reviews and posts on Twitter @erzabetbishop and sign up for her newsletter to keep up with new releases and hot deals!
Links:Manic Readers: http://www.manicreaders.com/ErzabetBi... Romance Reviews:
http://www.theromancereviews.com/1000... and Newsletter: http://erzabetwrites.wix.com/erzabetbishopAre:
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November 5, 2015
Broccoli Frittata #recipe from Vonnie Hughes #romanticsuspense
Multi-published and multi-genre author Vonnie Hughes steps away from her keyboard to bring us a delicious dish that works for breakfast and for lunch. The kitchen is all yours, Vonnie!
Broccoli Frittata
2 cups broccoli florets
4 eggs (yeah, I know. 4!! But that's the way to make it work)
1 cup milk
1 packet of thick vegetable soup (Maggi or whatever brand)
1/3 cup grated tasty cheese
Preheat oven to 180°C or 350°F
Put broccoli into a greased quiche dish or even a shallow ovenproof dish.
Beat eggs with the milk and soup mix. Pour over the broccoli.
Sprinkle the cheese on top.
Bake for 40 minutes.
Serves 4
How about pouring yourself an after breakfast mimosa and then curl up with my latest romantic suspense?
Who can you trust if you can’t trust your own mother? Through the clammy fog, Celie Francis hears the chilling message. “I know who you are, Celie. I know where you live.” And in the terrifying aftermath she reconnects with her dysfunctional family in ways she had never imagined.
BLURB:
Abused and abandoned as a child, Célie Francis knows better than to trust anyone. But after she witnesses a murder, she's placed in the Unit "New Zealand's witness protection program" where she's expected to trust strangers with her life.
It's psychologist Brand Turner's job to ease witnesses into their new identities, not to protect them, but Célie stirs feelings in him that are far from professional. When it appears someone is leaking critical information that could endanger Célie, Brand will do anything to protect her. But first he has to convince her to trust him.
Adrift in a frightening world, Célie would like to believe the handsome psychologist is everything he seems, but as witnesses are murdered and danger swirls around them, Célie must decide "can she trust Brand with her life?
Please click a vendor's name to read more from Lethal Refuge The Wild Rose Press and Amazon .
Vonnie Hughes is a multi-published author in both Regency books and contemporary suspense. She loves the intricacies of the social rules of the Regency period and the far-ranging consequences of the Napoleonic Code. And with suspense she has free rein to explore forensic matters and the strong convolutions of the human mind. Like many writers, some days she hates the whole process, but somehow she just cannot let it go.
Vonnie was born in New Zealand, but she and her husband now live happily in Australia. If you visit Hamilton Gardens in New Zealand be sure to stroll through the Japanese Garden. These is a bronze plaque engraved with a haiku describing the peacefulness of that environment. The poem was written by Vonnie.
Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog . Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads .
Broccoli Frittata2 cups broccoli florets
4 eggs (yeah, I know. 4!! But that's the way to make it work)
1 cup milk
1 packet of thick vegetable soup (Maggi or whatever brand)
1/3 cup grated tasty cheese
Preheat oven to 180°C or 350°F
Put broccoli into a greased quiche dish or even a shallow ovenproof dish.
Beat eggs with the milk and soup mix. Pour over the broccoli.
Sprinkle the cheese on top.
Bake for 40 minutes.
Serves 4
How about pouring yourself an after breakfast mimosa and then curl up with my latest romantic suspense?
Who can you trust if you can’t trust your own mother? Through the clammy fog, Celie Francis hears the chilling message. “I know who you are, Celie. I know where you live.” And in the terrifying aftermath she reconnects with her dysfunctional family in ways she had never imagined.BLURB:
Abused and abandoned as a child, Célie Francis knows better than to trust anyone. But after she witnesses a murder, she's placed in the Unit "New Zealand's witness protection program" where she's expected to trust strangers with her life.
It's psychologist Brand Turner's job to ease witnesses into their new identities, not to protect them, but Célie stirs feelings in him that are far from professional. When it appears someone is leaking critical information that could endanger Célie, Brand will do anything to protect her. But first he has to convince her to trust him.
Adrift in a frightening world, Célie would like to believe the handsome psychologist is everything he seems, but as witnesses are murdered and danger swirls around them, Célie must decide "can she trust Brand with her life?
Please click a vendor's name to read more from Lethal Refuge The Wild Rose Press and Amazon .
Vonnie Hughes is a multi-published author in both Regency books and contemporary suspense. She loves the intricacies of the social rules of the Regency period and the far-ranging consequences of the Napoleonic Code. And with suspense she has free rein to explore forensic matters and the strong convolutions of the human mind. Like many writers, some days she hates the whole process, but somehow she just cannot let it go.Vonnie was born in New Zealand, but she and her husband now live happily in Australia. If you visit Hamilton Gardens in New Zealand be sure to stroll through the Japanese Garden. These is a bronze plaque engraved with a haiku describing the peacefulness of that environment. The poem was written by Vonnie.
Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog . Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads .
November 3, 2015
What would you do if you found a flying horse? #middlegrade #fantasy The Skyhorse by HL Carpenter
HL Carpenter is here with their fabulous middle grade fantasy The SkyHorse. This entertaining novel nails life as a young girl with all the good and the awful. A excellent read for all ages.
Tovi thinks finding a flying horse is fabulous luck - until a mysterious stranger says finders aren’t always keepers.
When fourteen year old Tovi Taggert moves to Honeysuckle Hollow to take care of her grandmother, she has a hard time fitting in. For one thing, she’s been tagged with the hated nickname Too-Tall Tovi. For another, everyone at Honeysuckle Hollow High believes Tovi played the Choking Game with someone else’s boyfriend – and made out with him besides.
As if she doesn’t have enough problems, after the latest stand-off in the school hallway, Tovi finds a gorgeous speckled egg nestled in a feather lined nest.
She takes the egg home – and mysterious visitors begin appearing almost immediately. Even more worrisome, whatever is inside the egg starts chipping its way out.
When the egg hatches, revealing a winged horse, Tovi’s troubles multiply.
As she struggles to return the horse to the magical land where he belongs, Tovi must make a courageous decision – and accept what that decision will cost her.
EXCERPT
They want me to cry.
I won’t.
I WON’T.
I stand in the middle of Honeysuckle Hollow High’s noisy hallway, towering over everybody.
Too-Tall Tovi, that’s me.
Kids swirl past like blobs of sea foam. No one meets my gaze. No one stops. No one offers help. Why would they? They only know two stories about me, neither of them good. They also know interfering with the three girls in front of me will bring the wrath descending on them instead.
Jennifer Stokes stabs her index finger through the air. “I can’t believe what you did, Tovi Taggert!”
M.J. Maher dives in, her too-long teeth pushing out her upper lip. “Chase told us all the details!”
Terri Benton shoves her pointy chin forward. “We thought you wanted to be our friend, Toe-vee, but you’re no friend of ours!”
I did want to be their friend. I do want to be their friend. Tears well in my eyes.
I will not cry. I will NOT.
I clench my jaw.
It’s all mental, Tovi. You can’t cry when you’re smiling. Gramma’s always saying stuff like that. Sometimes what she says comes in handy. Like now.
I force my lips into a fake smile, the only defense I have. Almost. I can also rely on what Mom calls my smart mouth.
“You’re no friends of mine, either.” The words settle my nerves, the smile dries my tears.
Thanks, Gramma. You were right. It is all mental.
The three of them glare at me. Jen’s hand clenches around the strap of her black backpack, as if she’s barely keeping herself from clawing my eyes out with her fingernails. Red splotches spread across her skinny neck and her green eyes glitter as brightly as sunbeams off the waves in the Gulf of Mexico. She looks like a mutant sea turtle.
Even smart-mouthed me knows better than to say so.
“Stay away from us, you…you giant. Stay away from the game tonight. And stay away from Chase. He’s my boyfriend.” She whirls and shoves through the crowd, her straight blond hair splashing against the back of her shirt with every step.
“You don’t fit in here and you’re never going to.” M.J.’s smile is eel thin. “Why don’t you go back where you came from?”
I wish I could. That doesn’t seem like the right response either.
M.J. jerks her head at Terri. The two of them hurry after Jen. They stomp through the double front doors of the old school building without looking back and disappear into the waiting bus.
I didn’t cry. I won’t cry.
A weight heavier than my book bag and as real anchors me in place. The fake smile and false courage ebb. I tremble as I stand in the middle of the hallway, interrupting the flow of students like a boulder in a river. A five-foot-eleven and three-quarter-inch boulder.
Kids stream around me, bump into me, rush past me, gush out the door to the parking lot. It’s Friday afternoon, the last day of the first week of school. A few hours ago I was as anxious as everyone else for classes to be over and the weekend to start.
That was before Chase Webber told Jen what happened in Honeysuckle Hollow Park last night.
No, that’s not true. He told her his version of what happened.
I don’t know why he lied. All I know is I didn’t tell about the Choking Game and I didn’t make out with Chase. Well, not exactly. I mean—oh, what’s the difference? Jen’s not interested in my side of the story.
I trudge out of the brick building into the Florida September afternoon.
Chase has lived in Honeysuckle Hollow all his life. He’s hot. He’s smart. He’s popular. Of course Jen would take his word over a newcomer who arrived in town two months ago. A giant she nicknamed Too-Tall Tovi.
Even so, I hoped she would listen to me. I thought she was my friend. I thought Chase was too.
I’m a jerk.
And I’m going to have to sit in the school bus being ignored by Jen, M.J., and Terri and surrounded by the whispers of everyone else. My stomach sinks. Where’s the bus monitor? Mrs. Morrison, the principal, is on duty today. She has her hands full with a group of tenth graders who are chucking the week’s assignments into the air.
Now’s my chance.
I hurry down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. At the end of the building, I turn left and look over my shoulder to make sure I’ve gotten away without being spotted.
“Well, if it ain’t Too-Tall,” a familiar voice says. “Wanna meet me in the park again tonight?”
Chase and his duo of best buds are leaning against the side of the building, smoking cigarettes from a pack one of them probably shoplifted. All three wear cowboy boots, jeans, and dark mirrored sunnies. They look like a country band. They’re all beyond cool.
Six reflections of my brown eyes stare back at me in the surface of their uptilted sunglass lenses. My hair sticks out. It never stays in the ponytail holder.
Why am I worried about what I look like? Real friends wouldn’t care what I look like.
I blink away the surge of wetness in my eyes and smile at Chase. “Okay. What time?”
His thick dark eyebrows crawl into a frown. They resemble fat, fuzzy caterpillars as they disappear beneath the metal frame of his sunglasses.
“Whoa, Chase, you were right about her.” Ted Eskew’s teeth flash in the sun, bright white against last summer’s beach-party-and-volleyball tan. He exhales a stream of smoke. “Why don’t you meet us all in the park tonight after the game, Too-Tall?”
Ray Mead, who never has an original thought, says, “Yeah! I’m for that!”
The three of them start laughing and poking each other. I walk through the stink of sweat and cigarette smoke mingled with body spray, holding my head high.
“Look at her stick that nose in the air. Wonder what the weather’s like at that altitude.” A mocking tone replaces Chase’s frown. “Hey, Too-Tall, you sure were a lot friendlier last night.”
Ted and Ray hoot with laughter and reach out to grab me. I dodge sideways and break into a run.
“Get her!”
To read more of The SkyHorse, please click a vendor's name Amazon - Amazon UK - Smashwords
HL Carpenter is the pen name of a Florida-based mother/daughter duo who writes from their studio in Carpenter Country, a magical place that, like their stories, is unreal but not untrue. When they're not writing, the Carpenters enjoy exploring the Land of What-If and practicing the fine art of Curiosity. Learn more about HL Carpenter and their multi-genre books on their website and their Amazon Author Page .
Stay connected on Pinterest , Linkedin , and Google+ .
Tovi thinks finding a flying horse is fabulous luck - until a mysterious stranger says finders aren’t always keepers.When fourteen year old Tovi Taggert moves to Honeysuckle Hollow to take care of her grandmother, she has a hard time fitting in. For one thing, she’s been tagged with the hated nickname Too-Tall Tovi. For another, everyone at Honeysuckle Hollow High believes Tovi played the Choking Game with someone else’s boyfriend – and made out with him besides.
As if she doesn’t have enough problems, after the latest stand-off in the school hallway, Tovi finds a gorgeous speckled egg nestled in a feather lined nest.
She takes the egg home – and mysterious visitors begin appearing almost immediately. Even more worrisome, whatever is inside the egg starts chipping its way out.
When the egg hatches, revealing a winged horse, Tovi’s troubles multiply.
As she struggles to return the horse to the magical land where he belongs, Tovi must make a courageous decision – and accept what that decision will cost her.
EXCERPT
They want me to cry.
I won’t.
I WON’T.
I stand in the middle of Honeysuckle Hollow High’s noisy hallway, towering over everybody.
Too-Tall Tovi, that’s me.
Kids swirl past like blobs of sea foam. No one meets my gaze. No one stops. No one offers help. Why would they? They only know two stories about me, neither of them good. They also know interfering with the three girls in front of me will bring the wrath descending on them instead.
Jennifer Stokes stabs her index finger through the air. “I can’t believe what you did, Tovi Taggert!”
M.J. Maher dives in, her too-long teeth pushing out her upper lip. “Chase told us all the details!”
Terri Benton shoves her pointy chin forward. “We thought you wanted to be our friend, Toe-vee, but you’re no friend of ours!”
I did want to be their friend. I do want to be their friend. Tears well in my eyes.
I will not cry. I will NOT.
I clench my jaw.
It’s all mental, Tovi. You can’t cry when you’re smiling. Gramma’s always saying stuff like that. Sometimes what she says comes in handy. Like now.
I force my lips into a fake smile, the only defense I have. Almost. I can also rely on what Mom calls my smart mouth.
“You’re no friends of mine, either.” The words settle my nerves, the smile dries my tears.
Thanks, Gramma. You were right. It is all mental.
The three of them glare at me. Jen’s hand clenches around the strap of her black backpack, as if she’s barely keeping herself from clawing my eyes out with her fingernails. Red splotches spread across her skinny neck and her green eyes glitter as brightly as sunbeams off the waves in the Gulf of Mexico. She looks like a mutant sea turtle.
Even smart-mouthed me knows better than to say so.
“Stay away from us, you…you giant. Stay away from the game tonight. And stay away from Chase. He’s my boyfriend.” She whirls and shoves through the crowd, her straight blond hair splashing against the back of her shirt with every step.
“You don’t fit in here and you’re never going to.” M.J.’s smile is eel thin. “Why don’t you go back where you came from?”
I wish I could. That doesn’t seem like the right response either.
M.J. jerks her head at Terri. The two of them hurry after Jen. They stomp through the double front doors of the old school building without looking back and disappear into the waiting bus.
I didn’t cry. I won’t cry.
A weight heavier than my book bag and as real anchors me in place. The fake smile and false courage ebb. I tremble as I stand in the middle of the hallway, interrupting the flow of students like a boulder in a river. A five-foot-eleven and three-quarter-inch boulder.
Kids stream around me, bump into me, rush past me, gush out the door to the parking lot. It’s Friday afternoon, the last day of the first week of school. A few hours ago I was as anxious as everyone else for classes to be over and the weekend to start.
That was before Chase Webber told Jen what happened in Honeysuckle Hollow Park last night.
No, that’s not true. He told her his version of what happened.
I don’t know why he lied. All I know is I didn’t tell about the Choking Game and I didn’t make out with Chase. Well, not exactly. I mean—oh, what’s the difference? Jen’s not interested in my side of the story.
I trudge out of the brick building into the Florida September afternoon.
Chase has lived in Honeysuckle Hollow all his life. He’s hot. He’s smart. He’s popular. Of course Jen would take his word over a newcomer who arrived in town two months ago. A giant she nicknamed Too-Tall Tovi.
Even so, I hoped she would listen to me. I thought she was my friend. I thought Chase was too.
I’m a jerk.
And I’m going to have to sit in the school bus being ignored by Jen, M.J., and Terri and surrounded by the whispers of everyone else. My stomach sinks. Where’s the bus monitor? Mrs. Morrison, the principal, is on duty today. She has her hands full with a group of tenth graders who are chucking the week’s assignments into the air.
Now’s my chance.
I hurry down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. At the end of the building, I turn left and look over my shoulder to make sure I’ve gotten away without being spotted.
“Well, if it ain’t Too-Tall,” a familiar voice says. “Wanna meet me in the park again tonight?”
Chase and his duo of best buds are leaning against the side of the building, smoking cigarettes from a pack one of them probably shoplifted. All three wear cowboy boots, jeans, and dark mirrored sunnies. They look like a country band. They’re all beyond cool.
Six reflections of my brown eyes stare back at me in the surface of their uptilted sunglass lenses. My hair sticks out. It never stays in the ponytail holder.
Why am I worried about what I look like? Real friends wouldn’t care what I look like.
I blink away the surge of wetness in my eyes and smile at Chase. “Okay. What time?”
His thick dark eyebrows crawl into a frown. They resemble fat, fuzzy caterpillars as they disappear beneath the metal frame of his sunglasses.
“Whoa, Chase, you were right about her.” Ted Eskew’s teeth flash in the sun, bright white against last summer’s beach-party-and-volleyball tan. He exhales a stream of smoke. “Why don’t you meet us all in the park tonight after the game, Too-Tall?”
Ray Mead, who never has an original thought, says, “Yeah! I’m for that!”
The three of them start laughing and poking each other. I walk through the stink of sweat and cigarette smoke mingled with body spray, holding my head high.
“Look at her stick that nose in the air. Wonder what the weather’s like at that altitude.” A mocking tone replaces Chase’s frown. “Hey, Too-Tall, you sure were a lot friendlier last night.”
Ted and Ray hoot with laughter and reach out to grab me. I dodge sideways and break into a run.
“Get her!”
To read more of The SkyHorse, please click a vendor's name Amazon - Amazon UK - Smashwords
HL Carpenter is the pen name of a Florida-based mother/daughter duo who writes from their studio in Carpenter Country, a magical place that, like their stories, is unreal but not untrue. When they're not writing, the Carpenters enjoy exploring the Land of What-If and practicing the fine art of Curiosity. Learn more about HL Carpenter and their multi-genre books on their website and their Amazon Author Page .
Stay connected on Pinterest , Linkedin , and Google+ .
November 1, 2015
All Bliss books from @EntangledPub are on sale for only $.99 @RomanceIsBliss #smalltownromance
All Entangled Bliss books are on sale for $.99 from Nov 2nd through November 6th.
Grab Construction Beauty Queen and Love Him or Leave Him for a steal now!
Construction Beauty Queen
She's on the job...and out of his league.
Chicago socialite Veronica Jamison is determined to shake off her sheltered lifestyle and overbearing parents. She heads to her grandfather’s small town of Kortville, ready to roll up her sleeves and work for the family construction business. She’ll prove her worth, even if it means answering to the company’s ruggedly handsome co-owner, Matt.
Matt Shaw just wants to run his business, spend time with the niece he’s raising on his own, and give back to the townspeople who have stood by him. Managing a spoiled-rotten princess he knows he’ll never be good enough for? Not part of his plan. But as he gets to know Veronica, he learns there’s more to her than her beautiful looks and designer clothes. She’s got a heart as rich as her background.
With the quirky townspeople rallying against Veronica inheriting her grandfather’s business, it’s up to Matt to try to drive her out of town. But how can he, when instead she’s driving her way into his heart?
Sample the first chapter of Construction Beauty Queen here
Buy Links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
All Romance eBooks
iBooks
Love Him or Leave Him
Sometimes dreams are where you least expect them
Connor O’Malley and Becca Sanders were once high school sweethearts, ripped apart by rumors in the small town of Kortville, Illinois. Connor left to join the military, and Becca stayed, waiting for her younger brother to graduate so she could live her dreams of traveling the world. But now that Connor's back as the town sheriff, Becca finds herself struggling to resist the too-handsome man who once broke her heart.
Connor loves Kortville—its quaintness keeps at bay the painful memories of Afghanistan he’s sure make him unworthy of any woman, particularly the beautiful brunette he’s always secretly dreamed of a future with. But when a scandal rocks the town, suddenly Connor and Becca must trust in each other if they want to weather this storm…and come out on the other side of it together.
Buy Links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
All Romance eBooks
Kobo
iBooks
Sample the first chapter of Love Him or Leave Him here
Grab Construction Beauty Queen and Love Him or Leave Him for a steal now!
Construction Beauty Queen
She's on the job...and out of his league.
Chicago socialite Veronica Jamison is determined to shake off her sheltered lifestyle and overbearing parents. She heads to her grandfather’s small town of Kortville, ready to roll up her sleeves and work for the family construction business. She’ll prove her worth, even if it means answering to the company’s ruggedly handsome co-owner, Matt.
Matt Shaw just wants to run his business, spend time with the niece he’s raising on his own, and give back to the townspeople who have stood by him. Managing a spoiled-rotten princess he knows he’ll never be good enough for? Not part of his plan. But as he gets to know Veronica, he learns there’s more to her than her beautiful looks and designer clothes. She’s got a heart as rich as her background.
With the quirky townspeople rallying against Veronica inheriting her grandfather’s business, it’s up to Matt to try to drive her out of town. But how can he, when instead she’s driving her way into his heart?
Sample the first chapter of Construction Beauty Queen here
Buy Links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
All Romance eBooks
iBooks
Love Him or Leave Him
Sometimes dreams are where you least expect them
Connor O’Malley and Becca Sanders were once high school sweethearts, ripped apart by rumors in the small town of Kortville, Illinois. Connor left to join the military, and Becca stayed, waiting for her younger brother to graduate so she could live her dreams of traveling the world. But now that Connor's back as the town sheriff, Becca finds herself struggling to resist the too-handsome man who once broke her heart.
Connor loves Kortville—its quaintness keeps at bay the painful memories of Afghanistan he’s sure make him unworthy of any woman, particularly the beautiful brunette he’s always secretly dreamed of a future with. But when a scandal rocks the town, suddenly Connor and Becca must trust in each other if they want to weather this storm…and come out on the other side of it together.
Buy Links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
All Romance eBooks
Kobo
iBooks
Sample the first chapter of Love Him or Leave Him here
October 31, 2015
The Invitation by @Danawrite @etopiapress #witch #romance #Halloween
Blurb:
Every witch needs a familiar. Sometimes maybe two…
Morgana is a hedge witch with a problem. Her sisters are
conspiring against her and she has a ghost with a fork phobia living in her
shoe closet. When the chance comes to crash a party she just knows she should
have been invited to comes along, she enlists the aid of her trusty cat Nona to
help her cast the spell for the perfect dress. But crashing this party isn't
the only thing that’s going to rain on this witch’s parade.
Marcus of Pendleton is a cat shifter in search of his
brother. Then a lead at the Warty Frog takes him on an adventure filled with
magic and well…zombies. Can the prince find the fair witch and the answer he
seeks? And he might just be the familiar she's looking for...
Pages: 51
Genre-paranormal romance, fantasy romance, low heat rating,
shifters, m/f
Buy link:Amazon: http://goo.gl/m3kBlS
Tags-shifter, fantasy, witch, fairy tale twist, ghosts, cats
Excerpt:
“He’s been missing for months. How can you not care?” Marcus
Pendleton ground out, staring at his father in disbelief. The king sat on his
throne gnawing on a turkey leg, grease sliding down his pudgy face.“Because my boy, Rhys was the younger son. He may have been
a prince, but you’re the one who will inherit the throne.”“So why did you bother searching the kingdom for a princess
and having a ball?”The king narrowed his eyes at his son. “That happened to be
for you. Scheduling a dragon-hunting trip for that weekend was in atrocious
form. Your mother was highly disappointed.”“I’ll bet.” Marcus kicked his foot against the dais. He
fought down the urge to shift and show his father his extreme displeasure. No
doubt the old man would have an apoplectic fit if he found out his son had been
bitten and turned into the one animal he despised the most. Not even a beast
like a wolf, but merely a cat. His father loathed the animals and forbade
having them on the castle grounds.“You need to focus on finding yourself a princess, not
running about the kingdoms slaying beasts and bothering with that fool brother
of yours. The last time anyone saw him, he was following some skirt around and
blathering on about a missing shoe.” His father shuddered, holding his hand up
in disgust. “There were twelve of them. All dressed alike too. The men were
talking about it. Prattling, dancing, blonde things with wings.” His wandering
eye drifted toward a serving wench with a rather tight bodice.Marcus couldn’t believe his ears. Twelve of them? That
didn’t sound right. Neither did his father’s decision not look for Rhys. It was
unthinkable. Right now, if he could have, he would dump his inheritance in his father’s
lap and be done with him. The man’s priorities were limited to two things. Food
and sleep.No. Make it three. His father had the wandering eye of a
lecherous pig farmer. He didn’t know how his mother stood it. Given the chance,
he was surprised she hadn’t chucked him over the palace walls years ago and
been done with it.“Wait, Father. Did you say he was sniffing around a girl
with a missing shoe?”“Yes,” his father chuffed. “What of it?”“What of it, indeed…” Marcus stalked out of the throne room,
an idea forming in his head. Someone else must have seen a shoeless maiden, and
he was damn well going to find out what was going on. And twelve girls all
dressed the same? How very odd indeed. He wasn’t known as the best tracker in
the two kingdoms for naught. If he couldn’t find out something about them, he
may as well go sit up in the tower and sew with his mother’s handmaidens.“Marcus. Come back here. Marcus!”He shut the door on his father’s ranting, encountering his
servant boy on the other side of the door.“Geoffrey, Saddle my horse. Tonight we ride.”
About the author:
Dana Wright has always had a fascination with things that go
bump in the night. She is often found playing at local bookstores, trying not
to maim herself with crochet hooks or knitting needles, watching monster movies
with her husband and furry kids or blogging about books. More commonly, she is
chained to her computers, writing like a woman possessed. She is currently
working on several children's stories, young adult fiction, romantic suspense,
short stories and is trying her hand at poetry. She is a contributing author to
Ghost Sniffer’s CYOA, Siren’s Call E-zine in their “Women in Horror” issue in
February 2013 and "Revenge" in October 2013, a contributing author to
Potatoes!, Fossil Lake, Of Dragons and Magic: Tales of the Lost Worlds, Undead
in Pictures, Potnia, Shadows and Light, Dark Corners (upcoming), Wonderstruck,
Shifters: A Charity Anthology, Dead Harvest, Monster Diaries, Holiday Horrors
and the Roms, Bombs and Zoms Anthology from Evil Girlfriend Media. She is the
author of Asylum, The Invitation and Texas Twister. Dana has also reviewed music for
Muzikreviews.com specializing in New Age and alternative music and has been a
contributing writer to Eternal Haunted Summer, Massacre Magazine, Metaphor
Magazine, The Were Traveler October 2013 edition: The Little Magazine of
Magnificent Monsters, the December 2013 issue The Day the Zombies Ruled the
Earth. She currently reviews music at New Age Music Reviews and Write a Music
Review.
Follow Dana’s reviews:
Twitter: @danawriteAuthor site and newsletter:
http://danawrightauthor.wix.com/danawrightFacebook fan page: https://www.facebook.com/danawrightauthor
The Romance Reviews:
http://www.theromancereviews.com/DanaWright
