Tara Fox Hall's Blog, page 3

July 12, 2014

Calling all paranormal erotic romance fans!
Easy entry below via rafflecopter!
This contest runs from now to October 3rd 2014 at midnight, EST.

a Rafflecopter giveaway


OR Enter the competition via the author blog here:

Happy Summer!
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Published on July 12, 2014 08:46 • 271 views • Tags: charmaigne-pauls, contest, paranormal-romance

June 8, 2014

Enter the Rafflecopter to win choice of THREE signed Promise Me Series Books, plus a John Deere Catbed! a Rafflecopter giveaway
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Published on June 08, 2014 10:27 • 205 views • Tags: catbed-contest, contest, john-deere, promise-me-series, tara-fox-hall

June 5, 2014

Blurb: With Theo facing deadly odds in a fight to the death, Sar makes a pact with Lash, agreeing to give Devlin another chance in return for Theo’s life. Reforging her relationship with her handsome vampiric lover mends old wounds, even as Theo moves to regain Sar just for himself. But Devlin’s old enemy Ulysses appears, taking Sar prisoner and burning Devlin badly in a surprise attack. Rescued at the eleventh hour by Lash, Sar nurses Dev back to health, Theo bristling at a distance. Yet Lash’s own day of reckoning is here as his long life ebbs to a finale, leaving Sar to face the decision of offering him salvation, knowing that the price is her own humanity.

Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/Dark-Solace-Pro...

Dark Solace (Promise Me) by Tara Fox Hall

Excerpt: “Ready to go?” Titus said gently. Then he saw the knife and letter in my hands.
As I looked into his eyes, I suddenly understood he both knew what this strange letter meant, and that he was not happy about my present. My foreboding deepened. “What is this?”
“It was time, Sarelle,” Titus said. “Lash left a week ago. Devlin thinks he went out on a job, that he’s coming back later tonight.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about: Lash’s death. My apprehension became panic. “Why?” I asked loudly. “Lash said he had years left! Years!”
“More like months,” Titus said, his red eyes holding mine. “And that was months ago.”
It all came together for me at once. This was why Lash had asked me to go back to Devlin. He’d known he was dying, and he’d wanted Devlin to have someone who loved him so he wouldn’t be alone, or get into too much trouble. This was why he had talked about family, and that it meant something to him. This was why he hadn’t cared if he’d died saving us, because he was going to be dead soon anyway. Why he had warned me to be careful, if Dev and I went out again, because if it happened again, he wouldn’t be around to save us. Why he and I had gone out for sushi that night, but he hadn’t eaten much. He hadn’t been feeling like hibernating, he’d been getting ready to die. And he’d asked me to come those extra days to Hayden because he’d wanted to spend some extra time with me, lying together in the sun as we had those months ago and talking to maybe the only person in his life who shared his taste in movies.
“But I saw him! I talked to him! He was fine!” I screamed hysterically.
“He got a wound on a job he did a few weeks ago,” Titus rumbled. “Some were bit him. It wasn’t bad, and I healed what would heal, but it turned septic anyway. His immune system is shot, and had been for a while—”
Had it been Satar who’d bit Lash? Something told me it had been. My hysteria went up another notch. “No, he was fine!” I shouted. “He saved me, saved Devlin! He carried him—!”
“He collapsed when he got back to Hayden,” Titus rumbled, his red eyes smoldering. “Saving Devlin and you took everything he had left. He spent these past two weeks recovering enough strength to go wherever it is he went.”
That day I’d seen Lash reading with the blankets. He hadn’t moved, and his body had been mostly covered. I’d thought he had just been cold…
I closed my eyes, fighting tears. “But why not stay here with Dev? Why go off alone?” I shouted. “Who wants to die alone?”
“He did,” Titus said, his deep voice agitated now. “And it was his choice.”
Fury rapidly replaced anguish. “He only made that choice because you didn’t tell him about my blood! That a massive infusion of it might work, might save him!”
“Devlin would never risk you, not even for Lash,” Titus said harshly. “He’d need to take all of it, Sarelle. You’d die saving him. And there’s no guarantee it would even work.”
This couldn’t be happening. Fate couldn’t be that cruel, that Lash could save us but not himself. That he was going to die alone, without his loved ones near him, after all the good he had done. But fate was that cruel. I’d seen it firsthand, when a freak accident had left me a widow. I’d seen it later, in the years I’d spent apart from Theo, thinking he was dead. I’d seen it in the tears Danial had cried, all those times now I’d left him.
Lash had saved us. This time he needed someone else to save him. And I’d be damned if I stayed here, knowing all this, and didn’t at least try.
I looked at Titus, stripped off the gloves, and resheathed the knife at my side with a sharp click. “If I did it, could you save me?” I said bluntly. “Or would he need to turn me when it was done?”
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Published on June 05, 2014 19:18 • 236 views • Tags: promise-me-series, shifter, tara-fox-hall, vampire, weresnake

March 27, 2014


Blurb: While the vampire Devlin rejoices at news of his impending progeny with Sar, werecougar Theo braces for more challenges to his Ranked title, content that after Sarelle has the dhamphir child Devlin will be out of their lives forever. Yet when The Lust reappears, Sar’s world again turns upside down as old hatreds make themselves known, resulting in a steamy affair with the weresnake Lash, a new friendship with the werecoyote Serena, and the severing of Sar from the last remains of her old human life in favor of a new Paradise with Devlin.

Excerpt: Devlin skimmed the papers, then slowly looked down at me. “Is he sure?” he said joyously. “There’s no mistake?”
“Yes,” I said happily. “You’re going to be a father.”

Devlin hugged me tightly, then lifted me in the air as he whirled me around a few times, laughing, smiling radiantly.

“Congratulations,” Lash said, giving him a wide smile.
 Devlin hugged him fiercely.
“We have to celebrate,” Devlin said, turning from Lash to me.
“Let’s go out!”
“Davy’s?” Lash suggested.

Devlin looked at him, then said carefully, “Do you mind?”

“Cin has left the state,” Lash said with a shrug. “I don’t mind.”
I looked at the floor uncomfortably. Cin had been a weresnake waitress at Davy’s, and Lash’s lover. Their breakup had been precipitated by his one liaison with me, which had led to his discovery of Cin’s unfaithfulness to him through sordid means that had affected me. He and I had never talked of it, after his apology...
Don’t think about that.
“Davy’s it is.” Devlin turned back to me. “Does Danial know?”
I forced a smile. “You’re the first to know,” I said warmly, hugging him again. “I came straight here from Dr. Camlyn’s. No one else knows except Serena and Lash.”
“Good!” Devlin shouted with glee. “I want to be the one to tell him.” He pulled me close, then lovingly sang, “Here is all I need!”
“A book of verses underneath the bough,

A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and Thou,

Beside me singing in the Wilderness,

Oh, such a Wilderness would be Paradise enow!”

I gave him a giddy smile, happy that he was so happy. “Your own creation, Dev?”

He shook his head. “From the Rubaiyat.” He offered his arm. “Come, Sar.This night will be filled with many songs, all of them in your honor.”

Buy Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lost-Paradise-P...
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Lost-Paradise...
Melange Books (PDF and HTML): http://www.melange-books.com/authors/...
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view...
Lulu (print copies): http://www.lulu.com/shop/tara-fox-hal...

Tara Fox Hall
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Published on March 27, 2014 10:59 • 142 views • Tags: lost-paradise, promise-me-series, tara-fox-hall

February 27, 2014

Recently, a tragedy occurred in my life. I looked at the stacks on my bedside table to pick out a new book and discovered I had run out of “new” books to read. Now, it wasn’t a complete catastrophe, as I had slated on my to do list the transfer, unpacking and sorting of the library of novels that had gone into storage when I moved into the country. These were books I had read at least 6 years ago, and many not since I was a teenager or preteen, which is quite a bit further back. So I went down to the basement, and located the correct plastic tubs, and began to go through them. There were a number of books I was saving, but probably wouldn’t read again, and ones that I had collected just in case I ever wanted to read them. But the majority of books were books I’d read and now had no idea what they were about , and some that were given to me that I had no interest in reading at the time. A Bonus! A blessing! Here were literally 2 tubs full of books that were “new”. And since I couldn’t very well put them up on the shelf UNTIL I knew if they were worth saving or not, I got busy about my reading.

I expected to rediscover a few good tales, and find out a few things the second time around. But I was surprised. I read first a series of books by John Bellairs, beginning with “The House with a Clock in its Walls”. Its the story of a young boy whose parents die, and he has to go live with an uncle who is rich of course and who also turns out to be a magician. I expected it to be a little predictable and to be less enchanted. But I devoured the stories. The writing was excellent, the characters believable, and the plots interesting. This time around I also “got “the “inside-joke” references the author kept making for his adult audience that I couldn’t make sense of when I was 10. But the more books I read, the more I felt a little odd. And I realized by the last book I had of his the reason for my discomfort was that the protagonist was always best friends with an older man or woman (about the age of the protagonists grandparents). This protagonist has only one other close friend, if any, and spends a lot of time with this older friend alone at their house, or off having adventures, or on overnight trips to local haunted places. Being older, I wondered why the parents allowed this - weren’t they worried about their child? And I was saddened because I remember reading the books at 9 and 10, and not giving that a second thought. I remember wishing that there was an older person who lived around my house that I could have adventures with, who knew about supernatural things and would make me chocolate cakes. I wasn’t suspecting the friendly priest of anything except maybe being too practical to see an evil ghost was trying to possess the young boy.

I came to realize that the problem was that I and the world had changed too much to recapture the feelings I had reading the book as a child. The books haven’t changed - they are still a good read, and I strongly recommend if you haven’t read them to get copies at your library or bookstore. But you’ll enjoy them more if you read them to a child who hasn’t yet lost their innocence, if such a thing exists anymore.
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Published on February 27, 2014 16:34 • 190 views

January 30, 2014

Thank you Jenny Twist for involving me in this blog tour!

Jenny Twist has been a good friend of mine and fellow coauthor for many anthologies in the past several years. For more about this amazing author, see her FB page here:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jenny-... )

And now to Q&A on my writing process!
1) What am I working on?
Right now...too many things! Edits for the latest Promise Me Book and subsequent sequels, the rough draft and research for Lash series book #5, three separate short stories, and one new Promise Me series related tale that I just had an idea for last night.
2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?
My work has a unique voice, as I really like my stories to begin with a scenario/characters that are common enough...then take it in an entirely new direction that isn't where the reader expects yet still finds very satisfying. There is no middle ground....people either usually love or hate my work :)

3) Why do I write what I do?
Because I enjoy it, and I'm familiar with the supernatural genre, having read it my entire life.

4) How does your writing process work?
Haphazardly, in that I write best under a deadline, either self imposed or external. I always have many ideas kicking around, and a list of pieces of paper with lines of dialogue, ideas, etc scribbled on them. The hardest part of the process is having uninterrupted time to write. If I can get the time, the story comes out steadily, then its edit write edit write edit write until its complete, then I submit my final copy. :)

The last bit of this blog is to pass onto the next three writers the challenge to keep it going! I nominate Nancy Pennick, John Steiner, and Tori Ridgewood!
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Published on January 30, 2014 07:46 • 152 views • Tags: my-writing-process-blog-tour

January 8, 2014

If anyone would like me to guest at their blog in February-April 2014, Heartfelt Promos is now taking bookings! Use the form below:



Her Secret

Happy Winter!

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Published on January 08, 2014 12:43 • 119 views • Tags: her-secret-blog-tour-2014
If you've always wanted to sample my work, this sexy tale is a perfect short at .49 cents (or .99 cents from Amazon)!

image: description

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Published on January 08, 2014 12:36 • 121 views • Tags: paranormal, short-story, stalking-you-by-tara-fox-hall, tara-fox-hall, werefox
A little morbid humor to begin the New Year!


By Tara Fox Hall and Douglas Hall

It had been a long, hard day in an already difficult week. Lori was tired and already not in the best of moods. Her desires were summed up in a short ordered list: a nice glass of wine, a quick dinner, a hot shower, and a soft bed. This was going to be an early evening if she had to kill someone to make it happen.
She got her wine, set a can of soup to heat on the stove, and was just settling on the couch, remote in hand, when a knock came at her front door.
Lori sat motionless; hoping whoever it was would go away. Instead another resounding knock came, this one hard enough to rattle the door in its frame.
Grumbling, she started for the door. “Okay, I’m coming! Don’t break the door down.”
She peeped through the peephole. Who was this guy? It was a stranger, a large Caucasian over six feet dressed in a black leather coat. He had to weigh two hundred and eighty pounds, easy. He had on a tie that was just visible, giving him an air of professionalism, but there were no papers in his hand. That was good; at least she wasn’t going to be served. But what was in the grocery bag he was carrying? It was a good bet it wasn’t groceries. He looked kind of like a Jehovah’s Witness, except his expression was less pious, closer to someone taking the census.
“Who is it?” she called.
“Mr. Matthews,” he said politely. “I believe you were expecting me? We had an appointment.”
“You must have the wrong house,” Lori called back uneasily. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have an appointment with anyone but my glass of wine tonight—”
“Your cat is out here,” the man replied, looking down at his feet. “Black and white. You should let him in. Goodnight.” He turned and began walking away.
That was Jesse. Worried, Lori unlocked the door. As soon as she did, Jesse ran in, tail bushed. The man barged in after, pushing Lori aside like a rag doll. Her husky, T-Bone, increased his barking to a frenzy, snapping and snarling.
The man reaching into his bag and quickly produced a steak. He threw it to T-Bone, who snatched it out of the air and ran into the other room.
“Fine watchdog you are,” Lori called angrily after him. She turned back to the stranger. “What do you want?”
“I want the drugs,” he growled, producing a pistol. “Now.”
“What drugs?” she stammered, eyes wide.
“The five pounds of cocaine,” he said menacingly. “And don’t pretend you don’t know.”
Telling him the truth was out. This crazy would never believe he had the wrong house. The only other option was a fast lie. “It’s back here,” she said, walking into the kitchen. “Under the sink in the cupboard. Help yourself.”
The man followed, his semiautomatic never wavering. “Typical woman,” he sneered. “You’ve seen too many movies.” His eyes shifted suddenly to the walls. “At least you’ve got some taste. That’s a nice Tolkien piece.”
Keep him talking. “I’ve always liked—”
The guy shifted his gun to his other hand. “That’s enough conversation. Back away and keep your distance.”
He was going to kill her as soon as he saw there were no drugs. She would only have a few seconds. Lori nodded, backing up towards the wall
The man turned and crouched, rummaging around under the sink. Lori held her breath.
“You bitches and your junk,” the man cursed disgustedly. “You’ve got five kinds of glass cleaner here.” He cursed again, set the gun near his knees, and began shoving cleaning supplies out of the cupboard out onto the floor.
The short sword came off the wall easily with a soft rasp. Her father had given her that sword for decoration. Tonight, it was more than ornament; it was a tool for survival.
“Bitch, where is it—?”
Lori stepped forward, slashing down with all her might. The man’s neck parted like soft butter beneath the gleaming blade. The head rolled out slowly into the living room. T-Bone, finished with his steak, was after it at once, tail wagging at this new toy.
The body slumped, the neck spurting blood, but it didn’t fall. It wavered, the hands contracting slightly, spasming
There was already a mess in here and her well-ordered evening was ruined. Still, maybe there was a way to cut her losses. Dropping the bloody sword on the counter, Lori grabbed the wobbling corpse around the waist and hauled it quickly to the front door. With each step, its dead weight became more crushing, making her stagger. She opened the door and gave a last Herculean push. The headless body fell out the door, crumpled, and then fell off the side of the porch into the bushes.
“Spurt down there until you rot,” Lori said angrily. “You ruined my night.”
She went back inside. Her husky was there lying on the floor, the head between its paws, munching on the neck stump.
“Bad dog,” she said sternly, taking the head away. Opening the front door again, she heaved that into the darkness.
After locking the door securely, Lori looked down at her clothes. To her surprise, except for her hands, there was almost no blood on her. That was something, at least.
Turning, she surveyed the house. There were speckles of blood on the carpet from the head, and the kitchen floor was more blood than shiny linoleum. Still, there was one plus; the cleaning products were already out near the mess.
She stepped to the phone, picked it up, and dialed 911.
The connection was almost immediate. “911 assistance—”
“This is Lori Leighton at 52 Bloody Pond Rd. I need to report a self-defense killing. A man came to my house, threatened me with a gun, and I cut off his head.”
“You cut off his—?”
“The body’s outside on the porch. It was stinking up the house. Don’t worry; I left the gun where he put it down next to the sink. It has his fingerprints all over it. But I’m going to clean up the blood before my dog tracks it all over, if that’s okay. I’ve got blood all over my kitchen.”
“You shouldn’t disrupt—”
“Just send the police,” Lori snapped, then slammed down the phone.
T-Bone trotted up to her, and then sniffed interestedly at the pool of blood. Tentatively, he inched closer to it, giving her a sidelong look.
“No, you don’t,” Lori warned, grabbing his collar. “There’s been enough nasty treats for you tonight.” She hauled the whining dog to the bedroom and shut him in.
Then she walked back to the kitchen, and wearily surveyed the mess.
The death scene was already disrupted with the corpse outside. Still, pissing off the cops wasn’t the way to go. She wanted to sleep in her own bed tonight, not a cell. Resigned, Lori got a mop and filled the rolling bucket with water and soap, then left it near the sink for her husband. He’d be home soon, and she’d been through enough tonight.
She went back to the couch, sat down, and took her glass of wine. Taking a big sip, she made a new mental list: drink wine, explain to husband, deal with police, and then call her father to thank him again for the sword.

Tara Fox Hall’s writing credits include nonfiction, horror, suspense, action-adventure, erotica, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She is the author of the paranormal action-adventure Lash series and the vampire romantic suspense Promise Me series. Tara divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice. Knock, Knock is her first and only collaboration with her father, Douglas Hall.
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Published on January 08, 2014 07:58 • 108 views

December 11, 2013


Click the Christmas stories button to read my free illustrated tales The Christmas Mouse, and my one from last year, The Present People.

Also on the site are my other children's stories The Perfect Dog, A Tree's Dream, Summer Country, Hope and Nonsense, and Barn Cat!

Enjoy and Happy Holidays!
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Published on December 11, 2013 18:35 • 125 views • Tags: children-s-stories, children-s-story, free, free-read, tara-fox-hall