Liv Rancourt's Blog, page 30
May 26, 2013
Sunday Snippet – Hell2
Okay, this week instead of six sentences I went for six hundred words. This chunk is from the end of Chapter 1, and I chose it because it contains one of my favorite lines in the whole piece. Ophelia’s figured out that the Goat Leon’s trying to send down to Hell is still alive, and by the way, he’s pretty handsome. She’s not supposed to touch the humans, though, so he presents a bit of a problem…
About five minutes later the big double doors at the back of the lobby swung open and, arms spread wide as if he expected applause, Belial walked in. All the silks on the walls faded to black. The presence of a demon will do that.
“Leon, Leon, Leon. What are you doing, man?” As usual, Belial was channeling 1977. He wore black polyester slacks and a silky button-down shirt with an orange paisley pattern. The shirt was unbuttoned down to the end of his sternum, several gold chains were draped over his chest hairs and a thick mustache drooped over his upper lip. Sally Serpent snuck through the door right behind him, her gold spike heels snapping on the mosaic floor.
“He’s, um, see this Goat here, um…”
Belial shut me up with one cross-eyed glance. Leon might be cool with my half-bred nature, but most of the major demons tried to pretend I didn’t exist. I returned the favor.
“I’m seeing a Goat who’s not really a Goat. Am I right?”
Leon stared at something over Belial’s shoulder and kept his mouth shut.
“Am I right?” Belial repeated himself. He exuded the nasty fart smell of brimstone. The lobby wouldn’t be clear of it for hours.
Leon glanced over at the Goat, then back at Belial. “I believed this one was ready, but perhaps I was mistaken.” His voice came lower and more disconnected than normal. It hurt to watch.
“Perhaps.” Belial’s lips pinched as he tried not to smile. Fail. Demons don’t care about protecting people’s feelings. “Ophie, come free this loser’s hands.”
I walked behind the Goat and paused. His hands were grubby and calloused, tanned and strong, and I knew his skin would be warm. Hell had a lot of hot, and a surprising amount of cold, but not much warm. I swallowed hard and went to work on the straps binding his wrists, picking my way carefully. Touching him would be bad. Very, very bad.
He turned his head, stopping with his chin right above the bird tattoo. “Ophie?”
For a flash his eyes were warm too, and it took a minute to pull my gaze away. Not supposed to mess with the human ones. I got busy with the straps while my cheeks flamed. “My name’s Ophelia, and Ophie is a more tolerable nickname than Phelia.”
He grinned. Which got rid of the scowl and all the harsh lines on his face. I suddenly realized that because he had a pulse, he was the handsomest man I’d ever put my hands on. Okay, he was the only human I’d ever put my hands on, but damn. My hand slipped. Double damn. I took a step back. The warmth from his skin clung to my fingers.
“C’mon, help me out here,” he said, tugging at the straps still restraining his wrists. Shutting my eyes, I did as he asked. His skin felt so much softer than the leather straps, supple and tough all at once. The straps fell on the tile and he quick grabbed one of my hands and spun around. “Thanks, Phelia.”
For a couple beats I stared at his dirty nails, letting the sensation of his calloused fingers tickle my skin. Shouldn’t go there.
“Touching a human, Ophie?” Belial’s tsk – tsk –tsk sounded like nails in my coffin. Double double damn.
I threw some daggers with my eyes and took a step back. “Get out of here, Goat, before John Travolta over there changes his mind.”
It seemed like the echo of his bare feet slapping on the tile floor lasted long past the time it took him to run through the front door and down the street. I pulled the tarot deck from the drawer and turned over the top card.
The Moon.
Things change. And then they change again.
So which do you think is my fave line? Which is yours?
Have a lovely holiday weekend!
Peace,
Liv
May 22, 2013
Solstice
Today I get to share a new book that I’m pretty excited about. Debbie Christiana is not only a very good friend – for all that we’ve never met in person – but she’s a great writer, and her new book Solstice is a whole lot of fun. (See my review of it HERE.) She explores the Italian witchcraft tradition of the Strega, something I knew nothing about until I read her book. If you like stories about witches, powerful women, or hot (!) men, this is the book for you…
Welcome, Debbie!
![ApprovedSolstice_sm[6]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1383219244i/6444915.jpg)
Hi Liv, thank you for letting me visit and celebrate the release of my romantic suspense, SOLSTICE.
SOLSTICE is a tale of magic, murder and a 250-year old family curse, all set within a love story. In order to break the curse, my two main characters, Sofia and Armend have to piece together an old sonata that Armend’s ancestor wrote for his forbidden love.
Today I thought I’d take you on a virtual trip, no luggage necessary, to some of the locations featured in the books.
Sofia Palmalosi, the heroine owns and lives on a nature preserve on the Hudson River in New York State. I grew up a little shy of an hour north of NYC on the Hudson River and it’s truly a beautiful valley.
In the hopes of finding an important clue to help break the curse, Sofia and Armend journey to the Catskill Mountains, approximately two and half hours north of New York City. It was a huge resort area in the 1950’s and 1960’s and is best known as the backdrop of the movie “Dirty Dancing.”
Sofia’s family received their magical powers as a gift from the Goddess Diana over three millennia ago. As the story unfolds and complications arise, Sofia realizes she needs help from the Goddess. Who doesn’t now and again? They hop on a plane to Sicily to the ancient ruins of the Temple of Diana where Sofia summons Diana through a primordial family ritual.
This temple in the town Cefalu, Sicily is one of many temples built to honor Diana on the island. The bottom is made of cyclopean blocks and the arch is Hellenistic in appearance. One of the oldest buildings still standing in Sicily, it’s thought to have been constructed in 800 B.C.
Diana was the Goddess of the hunt, the moon, birthing, and of the wise women of Italy. Equated to Artemis of the Greeks, Diana had her own origins in Italy. She was such a beloved Goddess in the entire Mediterranean region that Paul stumbled upon hostile resistance when preaching to the Ephesians in Acts the Apostles.
Our last stop brings us to Cefalu Castle, also on the island of Sicily. What starts out as a relaxing picnic for our hero and heroine soon takes a dark and deadly turn. You know how it goes, you no sooner spread your blanket, open a bottle wine, pour a glass and an ominous figure is looming over you with a large knife – typical picnic crasher.
Known to the locals as Castello di Cefalu or Castello della Rocca, the castle was built on Cefalu Rock, where remains of a temple dating to megalithic period can still be found. The present castle is thought to have been built by the Normans during the 11th century (1063 AD) when they conquered the area. 
Thanks everyone for tagging along with me on this mini-virtual. I hope you enjoyed it and the brief history of the Goddess Diana as well as the places and ideas behind the story in SOLSTICE.
BLURB:
Time is running out for Armend Zogu. The 250-year old family curse on his head will claim him on his 30th birthday, the winter solstice.
Sofia Palmalosi is just the Strega who can save him. A descendant of a long line of powerful Italian witches, their magic was a gift bestowed on them by the Goddess Diana.
In order to break the curse, Sofia and Armend must piece together the sheet music from an old violin sonata that Armend’s ancestor wrote for his forbidden love.
Together Sofia and Armend embark on a journey from New York to Sicily and the ancient ruins of Diana’s temple and back to New York while fighting a battle of wits and magic with a psychopath who wants them both dead and the curse intact.
If the curse doesn’t kill Armend, breaking just might.
BUY LINKS FOR SOLSTICE:
Black Opal Books: http://www.blackopalbooks.com/storehome/product/91-solstice
You can contact Debbie at…
Twitter: @DebChristiana
Facebook: Debbie Christiana, Author
BIO: Debbie Christiana would sit in her room as a little girl and write stories about ghosts, unexplained events and things that go bump in the night. She combined her love of the paranormal with her fascination of unusual love stories and decided to write paranormal romance. She has two novels published with Black Opal Books, TWIN FLAMES and SOLSTICE.
In 2012, she had two short stories published. The Land of the Rising Sun, was one of ten included in the anthology BITES: Ten Tales of Vampires and The Thirteen Steps is featured in BELTANE: Ten Tales of Witchcraft. Debbie is a member of RWA and the International Thriller Writers, Inc. She is the Secretary of her local RWA Chapter of Connecticut and Lower New York. She lives in Connecticut with her husband and three children.
CHAPTER 1
Once in a lifetime you meet a person who takes your breath away. Not because you want them to, but because they are meant to. – Author unknown
Sofia paused on the marble steps outside her parent’s art gallery. The Manhattan street below bustled with New York activity. People shouted, cabbies leaned on their horns, and a siren wailed in the distance.
The warm October sun beat down on her, yet it couldn’t quell the chill that quivered down her spine. She stood still and waited. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of two casually dressed men. They appeared to be in a heated conversation, but from behind their dark glasses, Sofia knew they watched her every move.
Could she get to the front door of the gallery before they made their move? She climbed a step and stopped. She rifled through her purse and ascended another step. Three more to go.
Powerful arms snaked under hers.
“Sofia Palmalosi?” a blond man with a southern drawl asked.
She didn’t answer.
“Please come with us,” said the dark haired man.
Defiant, she crossed her right leg over her left and dropped to the ground. “Ms. Palmalosi, don’t do this,” whispered an irritated voice. The man on her right tried to lift her without drawing unwanted attention, but she remained seated in her resistance.
“Don’t make a scene. We’re trying to help you.”
Sofia closed her eyes and relaxed her body. With deep cleansing breaths, she cleared her head and summoned the Lare, the spirits of her ancestors. In her mind, she repeated the incantation.
Dear ancients ones, powerful and wise
Many times to you I’ve prayed
Please reach down from high in the sky
And offer to me your gentle aid.
The wind picked up and cool gusts blew against her face. Her eyes fluttered open. Bits of litter and leaves spun within the vigorous whirlwind that surrounded them. The men on each side of her fought to keep their balance against the unexpected squall. Their free hand flailed in the air as if they were swatting at a swarm of hornets. The Lare wouldn’t hurt them. They were mischievous, not malicious. Sofia sat patiently as first one, then the other man, let go of her, needing both hands to break their fall as they tumbled to the ground.
From behind, another pair of firm hands gripped under her arms and raised her to her feet. This time her legs straightened and supported her. The wind had calmed. The Lare had vanished.
“What the hell are you doing?” a new voice demanded.
The arrival of another person wouldn’t cause the Lare to disappear. Unless…
“What Mr. Palmalosi asked us to. Make sure his daughter arrived safely to his office.”
“She’s not a criminal.” The third man steadied her on her feet. His warm breath was on the back of her neck. “Sofia, are you all right?”
She’d had enough. “Why is it—” She whipped around and was stopped short by dazzling, steel-blue eyes. She cleared her throat and continued. “You know my name, but I don’t have a clue who any of you are?”
“I’ll let your father explain.” Mr. Steel Blue shooed the two men away. “I’ll make sure Ms. Palmalosi gets to where she is going.”
The taller of her two assailants spoke. “Ma’am, we’d like to apologize.”
“You both work for my father?”
The stockier man nodded at Mr. Steel Blue. “Yes. All three of us do.”
“My parents have never had security quite like you before.”
They mumbled an apology or obscenity and left.
Sofia crossed her arms over her chest and looked to the last man standing for an explanation. Once more, spellbound by his eyes, she took a step back and caught her breath. She should be doing the bewitching, not him.
He stood a few inches taller than she did. His black hair was longer than most men chose to wear theirs these days. He sported a neatly trimmed beard.
He held the gallery door open for her. “Your parents are waiting for you.”
Intrigued by the handsome man who caused the Lare to vanish, she went inside.
May 19, 2013
Sunday Snippet
I had so much fun with the King Stud snippets that I’m going to do some more. Today, I’ve got the first few lines from Hell…The Story, an urban fantasy novel (as yet unpublished) that falls somewhere between Christopher Moore and Richard Kadrey’s Sandman Slim.
Mother is crazy, Dear Daddy’s a demon, and all Ophelia wants is to be normal.
Good luck.
Dear Daddy runs the entrance to Hell couple blocks off the corner of Hollywood and Vine. Ophelia works as his receptionist, which is a better gig than her mother could offer. Like all Danaan sidhe, Mother is addicted to human touch, and runs a high-priced brothel to satisfy her craving. Life at the Hell Hotel isn’t perfect, but as long as Ophelia keeps her hands of the humans, she’ll stay out of trouble.
So of course, trouble comes looking for her. Here’s how it starts out…
I couldn’t see past the anger, the only emotion he had left. A leather thong held his wrists at the small of his back and a raw bruise marred his cheek where someone, maybe Leon, had smacked him. No shirt. Bare and dirty feet. I hated it when they came in like that. It meant they’d fight the whole damned thing.
God knows where Leon found him. And now I had to send him to Hell.
Our hero Gabriel
May 17, 2013
Christ And St. Michael
Today I’m joining the rest of WANA112 in our first Friday Theme blog posts. This week we decided to create posts inspired by our favorite works of art. The piece I chose is called Christ And St. Michael by Rogier van der Weyden, painted in 1450. van der Weyden, also known as Roger de la Pasture, was a Flemish painter who was quite famous in his lifetime.
The piece shows St. Michael, the archangel who is thought to be closest to God, holding the scales of judgement. Most often St. Michael is shown with a sword, protecting mankind from the evils of sin. He’s ended up tattooed on more than one guy’s shoulder, surrounded by swirling flames, stabbing a dragon. I like this one because it’s a reminder of the final reckoning, and while he’s holding the scales of judgement, St. Michael’s face shows compassion.
Here’s a quote I found about St. Michael:
“As the highest angel closest to God, Michael is expected to be good, and thus the Advocate; but he is also traditionally the holder of the scales, and thus the Judge. In this sense, the Archangel Michael is the embodiment of the balance between God’s Justice and God’s Mercy.” (http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E...)
I keep a postcard version of this painting in the notebook I use every week when I sing Mass. When you’re doing music live, it’s not going to be perfect, and the look in St. Michael’s eyes keeps me freaking out too bad when I screw something up.
Here are some of the other WANA112 art posts. I’ll be adding more as they come on-line.
Peace,
Liv
May 15, 2013
Gilded Destiny: A Vesper Novella
Click the image below to get yours! 
Gilded Destiny is available on Barnes and Noble NOOK NOW!
See? There’s all kinds of ways to join the fun.
Gilded Destiny is on sale for $.99! Here’s a refresher of the story, and what it’s all about.
Excerpt:
“In three nights, I will let him have me,” Nycholas said. “I will be done running. But… when I saw your colors, I thought… that I want to feel your colors before I die. All of your colors.” His hands slid back down my hips to my upper thighs and he spread his fingers, squeezing me again.
My voice was barely a squeak. “If I say no?”
Nycholas shook his head and pressed his thumbs harder into my inner thighs. “Please don’t say no.”
My heart roared in my ears with lust and panic, wanting and fear, vacillating heat and chill, and the cocktail of furiously warring emotions in my system was enough to put my libido on overdrive. Instinct and arousal battled between my legs – the urge to flee mingled with the urge to pounce. Arousal – hot and liquid and spurred on by this big, muscled, inhuman man – was dangerously close to winning.
I knew he could kill me. I knew he could eat me. I knew his master could find us and rip us apart, and I knew Blair would be looking for me, wondering what happened…
But I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
Also, Gilded Destiny is available in PAPERBACK. Click below to get a paperback copy if you need that new-book-smell to go with a dark, sexy story featuring new creatures of the night unlike any you’ve ever met before.
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Don’t forget to drop by Goodreads and add Gilded Destiny to one of your bookshelves, and leave a review.
PS…
They have easy reader-apps you can download for free if you don’t have a NOOK device. Just click the NOOKs below and follow the download instructions.
May 12, 2013
The Final Sunday Stud Snippet
For the last four weeks I’ve posted snippets from the first couple chapters of my new WIP, King Stud, and I’ve been pleased and inspired by your positive feedback. Here’s one final look, and yeah, it’s a bit of a cliffhanger. What did you expect?
In hindsight she recognized the cliché: couples who know they’ve found the right person after taking all night. They had, and she knew. She told him things she’d told no one else, things about her parents and the way her father had gone A.W.O.L. after her mother’s death, and a little about Braden the rat-bastard who’d dumped her. She listened to his stories, about his oldest brother Niall’s perfect life, about Maeve and her Peter Pan Complex, about his dream of getting a contractor’s license and working for himself. And about Cherry. Way too much about Cherry.
He might have ended it, but it would be awhile before he let go.
At about three a.m. he complained his balls were so blue he’d be walking with a limp for a week, and she almost gave in. Weirdly, it was the sense of rightness that held her back. They’d get around to it, and she knew from experience that waiting a little made things better.
But it was so hard.
Sometime after four they both drifted off, only to have the persistent buzz of Ryan’s cell phone wake them up about fifteen minutes later.
“Huh?” Ryan said before Danielle even had her eyes open. “Shit. What time is it?”
Danielle rolled onto her side and scooted up on one elbow. “What’s going on?”
“Shh.” He placed a finger over her lips. “Shut up, Maeve. So what if there is someone here?”
After another short pause he swiped the cell phone to disconnect the call, mumbling profanities. “Cherry’s on her way over.”
Danielle sat up all the way, torn between diving under the covers and making a break for the window. “Why? It’s like four in the morning.”
“Make that nine in the morning.” He brushed a lock of hair out of her face with something close to his normal grin. “Guess we both fell asleep.”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed just as the front door banged open and footsteps pounded up the stairs. “Christ.”
“Ryan?” The voice was halfway between a screech and a yelp. “What the fuck? There’s some bitch’s purse in here.”
He covered his face with his hands, while Danielle sat frozen. She was about to meet the semi-ex-girlfriend in the most awkward way imaginable.
“Hey asshole.” Cherry’s footsteps were coming down the hall. Ryan jumped up, tearing through the room in about two steps and slamming the door behind him.
“Get out of my house.” Rage laced his tone like flames licking the surface of a dry pine branch. “Give me my fucking key back and get out.”
“You’ve got some girl in here. Don’t you want to introduce us?” Bodies banged gainst the bedroom door, as if she’d reached for the handle and he’d blocked her. “Come on out, honey. Ryan’s girlfriend wants to meet ya.”
“Give me her sweater and leave, Cherry. I mean it.”
“This sweater? What is it…J. Crew? Oh, your slut’s got good taste.”
“Cherry.”
That one word was so dense, so heavy with anger and frustration, it dragged Danielle out of bed and across the room. He’d loaded Cherry’s name with the impact of a blow, and she feared he’d follow it up with his fists.
“Fuck you, Ryan,” Cherry wailed.
Danielle gripped the door jamb, white-tipped fingers digging into the wood.
When Ryan spoke again, he sounded exhausted. “Just gimme the key and go.”
After a moment of heavy silence, they moved off down the hall. Then one of them stumbled, hitting the wall. “Ow, shit.”
“Cherry?”
“This is not over, Ryan.” The front door slammed.
Danielle backed away, tension humming through her.
“Damn it. She’s too drunk to drive.” Heavy footsteps marked Ryan’s passage down the stairs. “I’ll be back, Dani.”
The front door swung shut behind him. Slowly Danielle peered out into the hall. Her blue cableknit sweater lay on the carpet in a heap, alongside a silver key.
This is Grandmother’s house, after Ryan & Danielle get finished fixing it up. (Not to give away the ending or anything… )
May 8, 2013
Garden: An Ongoing WIP
A month or so ago I started posting snippets of my new WIP King Stud, and it’s been a lot of fun – and certainly encouraging – to see how people are responding to it. But I have to be honest. I did the first post for a relatively selfish reason. I was having trouble finding my groove with the piece. I knew I liked it, and figured if I started putting it out there, I’d force myself to keep working on it.
Well, I’m over halfway there, and while the groove is still a little wonky, it’s much better, thanks to you fabulous Rancourtesans who’ve left so many positive comments.
And now I’m going to try the same thing with my garden.
A garden is an ongoing work in progress, right? Every day, every week, every season things are different. While I’m rarely 100% satisfied, there are things happening in my yard this year that make me very happy. I hope that by posting them here – in public – I’ll hold myself accountable for keeping it up better than I have in years’ past.
I can always hope.
To start with, here are a couple of views of my front bed. I love the way things are filling in…
Purple-flowered species geranium, fading tulips, a small spirea Magic Carpet (the yellow-foliage shrub), shrub roses, Japanese anemone, and asters, with a clump of miscanthus (ornamental grass) at the far end.
Here’s another view of the same bed. One thing I want to work on – besides shortening the white drain pipe – is to fill up the little stream of tumbled glass that edges the bed.
Across a grass path is another flower bed with a large stone birdbath at the center.
Monarda (or Bee Balm)…I think…I can’t remember exactly, but I love the contrast of the fragile flowers against the stone .
Off to the side is a raised bed where I grow herbs. I have rather a lot of oregano, if anyone wants some. It grows in the backyard, too. LOTS of oregano.
At the far end is a big clump of sage surrounded by chives, then oregano, some time, more oregano, and a small trailing rosemary. There’s a clump of lavender right outside the picture.
And this is Burnsie, wondering why we haven’t gone on walkies yet.
Now I don’t know how long this will last, but I promise to post some pix from the garden weekly, so I’ll have to keep things from getting too out of order.
Wish me luck!
Peace,
Liv
May 5, 2013
Sunday Stud Snippet the Fourth
For the last four Sundays, I’ve been posting little bits of the first couple chapters from my current WIP, King Stud. (For those of you just joining the party, here’s #1, #2, & #3). To recap, Danielle’s camped at her grandmother’s run-down old Craftsman house, at least until Ryan points out what a fire hazard her electrical system is, and in last week’s snippet she accepts his invitation to crash at his place for the night – a situation complicated by their 9-year age difference and the fact that she’s his older sister’s best friend.
Now, I write romance, so y’all can pretty much guess where this is going, although in my defense, Barnabas the cat did jump into the middle of things to move them along…
Woody, doing his best Barnabas imitation.
The cat picked that moment to plant a paw on the small of Danielle’s back with enough force to push one claw through her sweater and into her skin. She jumped to her feet. “What the hell?”
Ryan jumped up too, and swatted at Barnabas. “Git, cat.”
With a squall, the cat sprinted across the room. Danielle and Ryan ended up facing each other about arm’s length apart. Before she could back away, he reached over, resting his fingertips on her sleeve. When she didn’t move, he lowered his hand to hers, interlacing their fingers.
Intruder alert! Danger!
“It’s my roommate’s cat,” Ryan said, tugging a little. Instead of backing away she rocked forward.
“I don’t think he likes me.”
His free hand reached up to cup her jaw, warm and sure. “Well, I like you,” he whispered as he leaned in.
The first kiss was gentle, testing the water, giving her space to push away. It tasted malty and masculine, a flavor she could very well get addicted to. She let him move closer, and then both his hands were around her waist and she pressed herself full against him. All of her reasons for stopping ran through her head on a continuous loop. She ignored them.
They left her sweater on a dining room chair and his sweatshirt somewhere in the living room. In the hall he reached for the hem of her lacy undershirt. She stopped and gripped his wrists. “Wait. No.”
He eased back and Danielle fell against the wall. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“’S alright. I’ve wanted to kiss Dani Jacobsen since I was a kid, so I’m already ahead of the game.”
She covered her mouth. “No way.”
“Way.” He dove in for round two, nipping and nudging her hand till she moved it and he could reach her lips.
The kiss went on for awhile, but he kept his hands on her arms and shoulders and there was almost a Bible’s worth of space between their bodies.
“You know how good you feel, right?” she gasped as he worked his way down the side of her neck, lips and tongue tasting, teasing, driving her crazy.
“About as good as you do.”
She pulled him up so she could look him in the eye, caressing his cheek with her palm. “No, I mean it. I want…”
“Me too.” He turned his head, dragging the bristles of his five o’clock shadow across the sensitive skin of her palm before planting a kiss on it.
“But we really shouldn’t.”
“Because of Maeve.”
She tugged on his lower lip with her index finger. “Because I just broke up with someone and Maeve says you have a girlfriend and I want you to work on my house and if we have sex and end up hating each other it’ll be awkward.”
“I broke up with Cherry three days ago, which means the only reason you’re turning me down is a house.” He stretched his hands along her ribs, lifting a little and pulling her closer.
“I’ve done stupider things than that.”
Though I can’t think of any offhand.
~~
Next week will be the last of the King Stud posts, though I’ll likely start mining a different WIP. And now that you see where this one is going, what do you think? Is it too weird to have a make-out scene between a hot young stud and his older sister’s best friend? What do you think is the biggest challenge involved in dating a friend’s sibling?
Peace,
Liv
May 2, 2013
Spirit ~ Elemental Series Five
Today I’ve got a bonus guest post so you can all read about YA author Shauna Grainger’s new release, Spirit. It’s book five in her Elemental Series and it’s a totally awesome piece of work. Shauna and I bonded over Twitter sprinting, and I swear she’s done more than just about anybody else to increase the word count of my last couple projects. Check out her excerpt below, and be sure and leave a comment, because I’ll be drawing a winner for your choice of any of the five books in the Elemental Series.
Book Description:
Always careful to watch out for others, Shayna put too much trust her abilities to keep herself safe and has been cut down by crazed man. Now she is trapped in the land of the dead, watching as her two best friends suffer the consequences of her death; their powers are fading and soon they will too. Shayna is desperate to return to the land of the living to save them from a similar, cold fate. To save her friends Shayna must turn away from the Light and, in doing so, sacrifice her wings.
But the longer Shayna stays among the dead, the further she slips from sanity. If Shayna cannot find her way back she will be condemned and lost forever among the restless souls of the dead. With nothing left to lose, she will do whatever it takes to fight her way back, with or without her wings.
Excerpt
On the night I died, when Liam had walked me away from my friends and the wreckage of the house, the tips of my wings had dragged along the ground. I thought maybe that, though dead, I was still an earthbound angel. I thought I would get to stay, and I just had to wait for someone, like my guardian angel, to show up and tell me what I was supposed to do.
But that’s not exactly what happened. My guardian angel did show, in a burst of blinding light, glorious in his power with his wings spread behind him as he floated. I felt warmth radiating from him and the tunnel of light, trust and some form of relief rushing through me, making me believe I hadn’t been abandoned while falling through the crumbling house. He held out a hand for me as he came close to the ground, his feet landing silently. I started to lift my hand to take his, I always took his hand when he reached for me, but the closer he came, the closer the Light came. I felt the pull of the Light somewhere in my center. I suddenly knew if I touched him, took his hand, let that Light envelope me, I would leave this world and my friends behind.
“Wait,” I said, snatching my hand back and taking a number of steps backward, nearly tripping over my wings.
“Shayna, what are you doing?” he asked.
“What happens now?” I curled my hands into fists and kept them close to my chest.
“What happens now?” he repeated. By the look on his face, it was obvious no one had thought to question him before. “We go into the Light, you join our ranks, and you become the guardian angel you were meant to be.”
“And Jodi and Steven?” I asked. “What happens to them?”
“They are alive and well.” He shook his head and started to take a few steps toward me. For every step he took forward, I took one backward, keeping my distance.
“No,” I said, “what’s going to happen to them? Are they going to be all right?”
“Shayna, that’s not our concern,” my angel said, making the bottom of my stomach drop out. I felt as if the world had turned on its side, and I thought I was going to fall over. “You were my charge; they are not your charges, so you cannot concern yourself with their fates.”
“But something is going to happen, isn’t it?” I pressed. “My dying, that is going to do something to them, isn’t it?”
“Shayna, just come with me.”
“Why won’t you answer me?”
“Shayna!” He rushed forward, his hands outstretched. I dodged, hitting the ground and rolling in a mass of limbs and wings. He tumbled forward, losing his balance when I suddenly wasn’t there. Getting to my feet was difficult, but when I finally did, I ran, flexing my wings behind me, working them desperately, lifting and bobbing awkwardly in the air. I heard him yelling for me, still tangled where he had fallen since he didn’t have the same desperate need fueling him. The Light sliced through the air and trees easily. My back warmed as it touched me, and the sensation to turn toward it pulled at me.
“No!” I screamed, willing myself to go faster, farther, just get the hell away from it. That’s when the burning began.
~~
About Shauna…
Like so many other writers, Shauna grew up as an avid reader, but it was in high school that she realized she wanted to be a writer. Five years ago, Shauna started work on her Elemental Series. She released the first installment, Earth, on May 1, 2011 and has since released four sequels, with the series coming to an end with Spirit. She is currently hard at work on a new Urban Fantasy series, staring a spunky witch with a smush-faced cat named Artemis.
You can find Shauna online on Facebook, Twitter, on her blog and the Spellbound Scribes blog, and on Goodreads.
Don’t forget to leave a comment with your email address and your choice of one of the five books in the Elemental Series: EARTH, AIR, WATER, FIRE, or SPIRIT.
Elemental Series:
EARTH
Shayna and her two best friends have the abilities to manipulate and control the four elements, earth, air, water and fire. While learning to hone their growing powers, they discover a new and malicious presence in their sleepy beach town. Someone is performing blood magic and threatens to expose their small magical community. So far only small animals have been slaughtered, but then the nightmares start.
Shayna suffers nightmares of being chased and sacrificed only to wake up bloodied and bruised. She thinks her magical blood is the ultimate target for the final blood rite. When an innocent girl, Tracy, is kidnapped Shayna knows it’s only a ploy to draw her out; she can’t let someone die because of her.
AIR
It was a rough start to the school year for Shayna and her friends, Jodi and Steven, but thankfully summer break is near. Trying to sort out her feelings for the new guy in town, Shayna agrees to let Jensen join her on a group date with her friends. While out they end up at a local coffee house where their classmate, social outcast Jeremy McCormick, is humiliated by his baseball star brother. When Jeremy runs away from the jeering crowd, Shayna and Jodi hear the unmistakable sound of a thousand wings chasing after him, but no one else seems to hear them. These are not like any air elementals that Shayna or Jodi have ever encountered before and they fear Jeremy has gotten himself tangled up in something too dangerous for him to handle. But when Shayna tries to help Jeremy control his magical abilities she realizes it might be the biggest mistake of her life.
WATER
Shayna’s first surfing session of the summer is interrupted by the screams of a mother who has lost her little boy in the water. Without regard to her own safety, Shayna swims out, rescues the boy, but must escape the clutches of something far worse than she could have ever imagined – mermaids.
Compelled to answer the sirens’ call, the boys of Shayna’s town are drawn to the sea, but when they return are afflicted by an unknown illness, a sickness which is draining them of their life force. Unable to tell anyone about the mermaids, Shayna and her friends are forced to solve the mystery before it’s too late, and in doing so, Shayna will finally have to face the full force of her powers. Whether she’s ready or not, she will have to face her true nature.
FIRE
Demons, faeries, and mermaids. Claws, teeth, and nightmares.
They have been beaten and bruised, set on fire, and nearly drowned, but manage to always find their way home. Over their last Winter Holiday break before college, Shayna, Jodi, and Steven try again to put aside the magic in their lives for a little mundane fun. But Shayna’s mother is having dreams of fire and death. A mysterious stranger by the name of Liam has just arrived in town. And Shayna’s attempts to manage her new angelic powers are set back by Steven’s insistence that the trio intervene in a riot outside of a concert, with disastrous consequences.
In her attempt to stop the riot, a man sees Shayna use her magical abilities – a man driven mad by watching his brother die at the hands of a black witch. He stalks Shayna, plotting to destroy her and her friends. With her mother’s warnings echoing in her mind, Shayna is now in the fight of her life against an unlikely foe: a human man.
May 1, 2013
Banking On Temperance
It’s been a little while since I had a guest post, and today I’m thrilled to welcome Becky Lower. Her newest Crimson Romance release, Banking on Temperance, is set in 1855 New York, a time that lends itself to all kinds of drama….
LR: Your three Crimson titles are all set in 1855 or so. What is it about that time period that appeals to you?
BL: It was really a happy accident. I wanted to write Regency romances complete with afternoon teas, Cotillion balls, long social seasons where women and men searched for potential mates. But I didn’t want to write any book set in England, since I’m a tried and true American girl. I started doing some research on when the Cotillion made its way across the pond and discovered it made its appearance in New York City in 1854. By 1855, it was an expected rite of passage for young women of marriageable age. It’s such a rich decade in American history—the buildup to the Civil War. And no one was writing about it. Fortunately the family I created has many siblings, each of whom get their moment in the sun. The Civil War is looming, and it will impact the lives of the Fitzpatricks in ways that I expect families were impacted at the time.
LR: I saw your first couple Crimson books are set in New York, while your upcoming release Banking On Temperance is set in St. Louis. How did you go about researching the new location?
BL: St. Louis is one of my favorite cities to visit. The bookstore at the Arch is one of the best in terms of finding obscure books about the westward expansion. On my most recent visit, I found a previously unexplored area down by the water where there were still cobblestoned streets and turnabouts in the intersections for the cable cars to reverse their direction. I took some great pictures, read tons of books, especially the Covered Wagon Women diaries and journals, and drank in the atmosphere of this great city.
LR: Do you always frame your stories in actual historic events? Are you sometimes tempted to take liberties, maybe by creating a battle that didn’t actually happen, but could have?
BL: I not only have happy accidents in my time periods, I also have happy accidents at finding actual events to tie my stories to. My first book, The Reluctant Debutante, climaxed in St. Louis. I knew I wanted it to end there, but didn’t know how to get my heroine there from New York. Then, I found out about the Gasconade Bridge railroad disaster. It was kismet. That type of luck has happened more than once.
LR: Now, I have an idea for a paranormal/historical set in 1910 Seattle, because, you know, some of my favorite characters are vampires. What about you? Have you ever toyed with adding a paranormal character to one of your historical stories?
BL: This question is funny for me. My critique partner writes only paranormal, and I have to keep stopping her stories to ask her to explain what is “proper” vampire behavior. I’m so clueless. I can help her with logic, POV, punctuation, the senses, etc, but supernaturals? So not my thing. I keep trying to get her to write an historical paranormal, but so far, she’s resisted.
LR: Clutter or quiet? Describe your perfect writing situation.
BL: Absolute quiet. Fortunately, I live alone, except for my little puppy-mill rescue dog, Mary, who also appreciates a quiet atmosphere, after living in the puppy mill for five years with hundreds of barking dogs all around her.
LR: What’s your favorite non-writing activity? Like, are you a closet marathon runner? Could you crochet a house-cozy if you had to? Maybe you secretly want to appear on Antiques Roadshow?
BL: I go through stages, but they all have a central theme. Take a lot of little pieces and put them together to create something. At various times, I’ve been a quilter, avid jigsaw puzzle solver, I’ve knitted, and created stained glass panels. I’ve renovated old houses. I especially like to lay tile. I’m not really sure what that says about me.
LR: Jazz, classical, or rock n’ roll? Which one gets your blood moving the fastest – or is there another style of music you prefer?
BL: I’m a part of the Woodstock generation, so sex, drugs and rock and roll still appeals to me. I also spent a lot of time in the West Virginia woods where the only radio station that came in was a country one, so I love country, too. And, I like the big voices that are popular now—Adele, Christina Aguilera, Amy Winehouse, to name a few.
LR: What’s next on your horizon? Describe your current WIP(s) or other upcoming project.
BL: In order to keep my historic romances fresh, I prefer to write a contemporary in between, and just have fun with them. I can write about stilettos and thong underwear and show off that side of myself. My current WIP is nearly done. It’s about a 41-year-old woman whose son just married, so she’s an empty nester. She decides on a whim to take a cross-county trip by herself. Her car breaks down in Tornado Alley and she is rescued by a cowboy name Cy—short for Cyclone. It’s been so much fun to write.
Banking On Temperance—Book 3 in the Cotillion Ball Series
Basil Fitzpatrick was born into a life of privilege. In 1856, at 23 years of age, he is the owner of the St. Louis branch of the family banking business. He has his pick of the ladies and life by the horns. Temperance Jones and her family are far from privileged. Her father is a circuit-riding preacher from Pennsylvania. But the rumblings of a war between the North and the South force the preacher to move his family to Oregon rather than to take up arms against his fellow man. However, hardship and sickness have slowed their pace, and they are forced to spend the winter in St. Louis, waiting for the next wagon trains to leave in the spring.
Basil is drawn to the large family the moment they roll into town, partly because they remind him of his own big family in New York. But also because of the eldest daughter, Temperance. She is a tiny, no-nonsense spitfire who is bent on fulfilling her father’s wish to get the family safely to Oregon. Basil is only interested in finding a mistress, not a wife. He knows if he allows Temperance into his heart, he is accepting the obligation of her entire family and their quest to settle in Oregon. He wants Temperance like he has wanted no other, but the burden of her family may be too much for him. And he can’t have one without the other.
Banking on Temperance is available from Amazon, ARe, and will soon be available from Barnes & Noble…
