Melissa Snark's Blog: The Snarkology, page 46
February 5, 2015
DEVIL TO PAY by Renee Bernard #Romance #Giveaway @ReneeBernard
Workplace comedy is always fun but when the company in question in H.E.LLc (Hades Enterprises LLc) and your job is being Lucifer, let’s just say, there are some unique challenges beyond Casual Fridays and who keeps taking your lunch out of the break room. Even if Hell really is just a place where evil is tracked and analyzed in endless cubicles-no brimstone and not a human soul in sight-there’s no room for error. This Lucifer (who is the seventh unlucky archangel to get the position behind the black onyx desk) is about to have his entire world rattled when a very sweet and likable mortal woman crosses his path.
After all, angels can’t lie. And when Jayne Hamilton wants to know what he does for a living, all bets are off. Because “dating” isn’t exactly in the cosmic scheme of the Eternity Gambit, but Love… Well, Love is never really off the table.
Now, if Lucifer can just figure out how to win the girl and get himself fired, he’ll be one very very happy angel.
“Filled with sparkling wit and devilish charm, DEVIL TO PAY is a delightful visit to the Shangri-La of Hell!” — Erin Quinn, The Three Fates of Ryan Love, NYT Bestselling Author
“Only Renee Bernard could make dating Satan sexy as sin! Funny, fresh, irreverent and utterly adorable!” – Dakota Cassidy, National Bestselling Author
First book in the new Eternity Gambit series from USA Today bestselling author Renee Bernard. This is a romantic comedy series with an original paranormal twist that defies categorization and turns every notion of Heaven and Hell on its ear.
Excerpt:
“Smitten without a prayer,” Lucifer regained his focus on the present moment. “There’s no Sanction for me.”
“Wrong,” Uriel said softly. “How many people have walked into your building’s lobby in the last seventy-five years?”
Lucifer calculated his answer trying to remember. “Two. Besides her, I think it’s two.”
“Invited?” Uriel asked.
“Of course! Mortals can’t even see the structure unless—“ Lucifer stopped himself. “Oh, my God!”
Uriel smiled in triumph. “See? Sanctioned.”
“What did I just miss?” Raphael put the cards in the box.
“She found him without an invitation. She walked in of her own free will and unless it was Sanctioned, Management would have never allowed it.” Uriel smugly folded his hands like a magician revealing his best trick. “I’d say Michael’s going to eat his own hat when he finds out.”
Lucifer was speechless as he absorbed the implications.
Sanctioned. Was it really true that she’d been allowed to come to me? That there’s a chance? It’s all still human free will and the long shot of the millennia, but oh, God…thank you. I’ll have to get Malcolm to send you a gift in the morning for this one!
Luke shoved the chips at Azrael and excused himself with a bow. “I hate to win and run, but I have to see a Demon about a fruit basket.”
He instantly vanished and Raphael’s laughter filled the room. “You gotta love his exit lines!”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
What in the world is a retired Navy chaplain’s daughter doing writing scorching hot historical romances and paranormal romantic comedies and even comic books? Renee Bernard is applying a great education from traveling all over the world to story telling and doing her best to keep her father proud. Truthfully, her father is her number one fan, even though he has sworn never to read a single word of her books (a vow he has kept to this day!) Nothing stops him from telling everyone he knows that his daughter is now a USA Today Bestselling author or from handing out bookmarks on the golf course. Love can make even a minister do strange things!
Renee Bernard is a freelance writer and host of “The Romance Bookmark” on Readers Entertainment, as well as a contributor to Romantic Times BookReviews magazine. Renee currently lives in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in Northern California. (Note an interesting proximity to great wineries!)
DEVIL TO PAY is available now online wherever books are sold and is coming soon to Audio! The Eternity Gambit series is a fun departure from her well-known Victorian set historical romances and creates a new world for readers unlike any other. DEVIL TO PAY is the first book in this new series and is gathering up 5-Star reviews and momentum as more readers discover that office politics can hit a whole new level of crazy when you work at Hades Enterprises, LLc (or H.E.LLc).
For more information, please visit her website at http://www.reneebernardauthor.com or http://www.eternitygambit.com .
You can also find her at:
FaceBook at Renee Bernard Fan Page
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Renee-...
Twitter: @ReneeBernard
February 4, 2015
The Write Pet: Spoiled Salukis by Mona Karel #MFRW_Org #amwriting
Five Pounds of Liver and Cookies for the Salukis…
That would be dog cookies, of course. I still make cookies for me but they’re low carb and time intensive. Plus way too tasty so I try to curtail. But the dogs get cookies: turmeric with various extras to disguise the taste, and salmon oatmeal yummies.
The mass quantities of liver are layered in a dehydrator and dried for an unconscionable
length of time, during which the house smells of, well, drying liver. Not the most appetizing odor but they will do pretty much anything for liver. Or chicken breast.
What, you think my dogs are spoiled? Well, maybe just a bit. But they fill my days and soothe my heart so a little spoiling’s not a bad thing. They also have patience with me when I take them to games, like Agility, Coursing, and that left turn game of Dog Shows…where we trot around the ring together, always turning to the left. Since my pockets are generally filled with goodies we tend to be very popular around other dogs.
What’s it like having one breed of dog for more than forty years? I could be snarky (me?) and point out I’ve had them longer than many people stay married. But I’ll be nice and say in my fifth generation it’s wonderful to see the faces of dogs from the mid 70s in the dogs surrounding me today.
I just made a batch of those oatmeal cookies, here’s the recipe for your best buddies:
4 cups oatmeal (I get the best I can find)
1 can salmon (or mackerel but salmon’s tastier)
4 eggs
Sometimes grated Parmesan cheese
maybe some water
Put the oatmeal in your food processor first, making a fine powder. If you’re going to indulge in the Parmesan cheese, add it now and pulse a couple times. Add eggs (shell and all) and the salmon, all at once. Process until it’s blended; if it’s too thick, add water.
Smooth out onto a cookie sheet or two depending on the size. You can either use oil or parchment paper on the pans. Bake at 350F. After about fifteen minutes, check to see if the cookies have started to dry a bit. Cut them into bite size pieces with a pizza roller or big knife. You don’t want to wait too long to cut them, cause…well, that is the way those cookies crumble. Then keep cooking them to your desired crispness. I like to bake for a while, then separate the cut cookies, and let them all get extra crunchy.
We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.
Title: Teach Me To Forget
Publisher: Black Opal Books
Date Published: May 2012
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Word Count: 65,000
No Salukis in this book, Bethany needed more of a clown for her traveling buddy, so I gave her an Irish Setter. She needs the comic relief after she meets J Phillip Merritt
***
Her past was behind her…or so she’d thought.
Bethany Acton has come a long way from the day she was an abused child-bride of a dissolute jet setter. Now divorced and single, she writes for a lifestyles magazine, lives out of her motor home, and answers only to her boss—when he can find her. She has overcome her horrendous past and taken control of her own life. But when Jonathan Merritt, a rising star in wildlife photography, enters her world, she learns that control is a tenuous thing.
His past was despicable, but it hasn’t affected his future…until now.
Jonathan Merritt knows he’s met the woman with whom he wants to spend his future, but first he must admit his role in her past. Afraid the truth will turn her against him, he tries to gain her trust and affection before confessing. But the longer he hesitates, the harder it becomes to tell her. Can Jonathan gain enough of her love and trust for her to forgive what he did—or will his past indiscretions destroy his only chance for happiness?
***
There’s a happy ending, and Baron the Irish Setter does his doggonedest to make it so.
Author Bio:
I wrote in High School, mostly overly dramatic epistles my teachers seemed to like. It wasn’t until 1985, when I traded in grooming shears for an office, that I began to fulfill my lifetime dream of writing, hoping to emulate Mary Stewart and Helen MacInnes. If you’re going to dream, dream HUGE. Black Opal Books took me on as one of their first authors in 2011. Not quite an overnight success but an accomplishment all the same. We moved to the high plains of New Mexico when my husband retired and he had five good years here before he was lost to cancer.
When not writing or messing about with the Salukis I’m gardening or taking pictures or judging dogs or working with writing clubs or just enjoying the open spaces
Author Links:
https://www.pinterest.com/monakarel/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4878639.Mona_Karel
February 3, 2015
The Write Pet: My Best Friend by Victoria Adams #amwriting
I’ve lived with pets since I was a toddler. Tommy Tucker was my first cat. Grown up with a family, at most we had 5 cats, 3 dogs, 2 fish tanks and several outside strays. Plus all the birds, chipmunks and squirrels who hung around waiting to be fed. But it is Dog#3 that affected my writing – Cosmo.
Cosmo was a mutt – part German Shepherd and part a lot of other stuff. We got him as 
a puppy. He’d been abandoned in the field across the road and was howling his little head off.
My husband didn’t want a third dog, but this little fellow latched on to my heart with a firm bite. I walked him, fed him and taught him Trade. When he had something he wasn’t supposed to – like my hubby’s slipper – I’d offer a toy and say, “Trade.” One day, I had a piece of cheese in my hand. Cosmo came over, head-butted my knee and dropped a toy at my feet then stared at the cheese. Yes, I gave it to him.
We had an earthquake, which is rare for us. He warned me it was coming. We were sitting outside on the deck and he got up, raced over to me, again head-butted my knee and whimpered and about 5 second later the quake hit. (Notice, he head-butted me. My husband was sitting next to me. Cosmo knew who fed him, so he knew who the important human was!)
How did Cosmo affect my writing? When we went for our twice daily (at least) walks, we didn’t walk. It was more of a stroll and sniff. I had plenty of time to let plot problems rumble about in my head. I live on a very quiet country lane. I’d try out dialogue on him. When our walk was over, we’d head back indoors and I’d settle down with my laptop and he’d curl up on his pillow near my feet. It was comforting and I loved it.
As he aged, he lost most of his sight. I became his seeing-eye human. We have a fenced in yard. When strangers would come to the gate he’d bark and challenge them. Problem was he couldn’t see them, only smell them. So he’d snarl at the one thing he could “see”. The large lilac bush. It was quite a useful habit, as people thought the dog must be crazy and therefore dangerous, so they didn’t come in the yard.
But then that horrible day arrived. I spent it sitting on the floor next to him, talking to him and petting him, all day. When my husband got home from work, I told him – in tears – that we had to go to the vet and Cosmo wouldn’t be coming home. What a painful and difficult day that was. But he knew he was loved and he will always have a special place in my heart.
Title: A Guy and A Girl
Publisher: Indie pubbed
Date Published: June 18, 2014
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
Word Count: 109, 270 words
Lies, deceits and secrets – not a good way to begin a relationship.
After an ugly past forced Hunter Connolly to escape to Europe, the talented hockey player is back in North America and determined to land a position with a professional team. But he can’t hide from his past forever, especially when his beautiful classmate, Chelsea, forces him to reexamine his life. Soon, hockey is not his first priority anymore.
Chelsea Henderson is a bright co-ed working towards her dream of being a professional dancer. She forms a unique friendship with one of her father’s newest recruits and would love nothing more than to take it to the next level. However, there’s just one small problem. He doesn’t know she’s his coach’s daughter.
Amid the deceptions, danger lurks closer than they could ever imagine. Will fate contrive to rip the young lovers apart? Or will Hunter and Chelsea have their shot at love?
Excerpt:
“Come on in.” Hunter called from his spot sprawled on the floor in front of his sofa.
Chelsea walked into the living room. “Hey.”
He nodded, grabbed the remote and muted the television.
Chelsea spun a kitchen chair around and sat on it. “Okay, the silence’s killing me. I’ll start with some lame conversation and you just leap in. How was the bio midterm?”
“Passed it. Should write all my exams with a hangover.”
She tapped her fingernail on her thigh. “Guess that was the end of the conversation starters.”
Hunter levelled a glare at her. “What do you want, Chelsea?”
“I want you to sound less angry. I want to talk. I’d like to try and explain.”
Hunter slammed a fist on the carpet. “I damn near slept with the coach’s daughter! Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
Chelsea watched the tiredness in his eyes shift to rage. “Because… because….”
“I wouldn’t date you if I knew who you were.”
“Yea and that’s not fair.” She sat up taller and matched her gaze with his. “It’s not my fault your coach is my dad.”
Hunter closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t know what to do, Chelsea. My head hurts too damn much to think.”
“Damn it, Hunter, I really like you. I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I don’t want to lose us.”
“I don’t know if there’s going to be an us anymore.” He rubbed his temples.
Chelsea sat behind him on the sofa, slipped her hands under his and began massaging his head.
Hunter pushed her hands away. Although it hurt him to say it, he said, “Go home, Chels. I need time to think.”
He refused to look at her. He couldn’t. He knew he’d give in, wrap his arms around her and beg her to stay.
Bio:
I live in Ontario, Canada with my husband and pets. Daughter’s grown up and is now teaching. I like to garden, cook and belly dance. In the summer, cars slow down when they pass my front yard and the passengers gaze at my flower beds. Friends love to be invited over for supper as the meal is going to be good – good for you and nowhere near low-calorie! No dieting allowed at dinner parties. As to belly dancing, find a class and try it. It’s a blast!
I’ve been writing since I was little. Being an only child, long car rides were filled with making up stories in my head about the people I saw out the car window. When my daughter was younger, I made up stories that she suggested. I’d say – Once upon a time there was a…. She’d shout an answer – chicken! And the story went from there. Great creativity exercise as it turns out. Now, my writing style has taken a split to contemporary romance for adults and contemporary romance for new adults.
Besides my latest – A Guy and A Girl – I have published Circles Trilogy (Dancing in Circles, Circles Divided, Circles Interlocked) and have short stories in three anthologies.
Author Links:
Blog – Victoria’s Pages of Romance – http://victoriaadams.blogspot.com
FaceBook – http://www.facebook.com/victoriaadams.romancewriter
Facebook Author Page – http://www.facebook.com/pages/Victoria-Adams/244325918978641
Facebook – Books by Victoria Adams – http://www.facebook.com/CirclesTrilogy?ref=hl
Twitter – http://twitter.com/_VictoriaAdams
Website – http://victoriaadamsromance.wix.com/victoria-adams
Google+ – Victoria Adams
Wattpad – http://www.wattpad.com/user/VictoriaAdams
February 2, 2015
Falling Rain by Crystal Dawn #Romance #Giveaway
Laurel is sad and lonely since she met Rain and had to leave him behind. She thought it was something special but she’ll admit she doesn’t understand males especially wolves.
Rain has been trying to reach Laurel but it seems she has frozen him out. His calls aren’t answered and the emails that come back to him are cold and business like. Is it a case of out of sight out of mind?
It seems there are forces at work that don’t want them together and danger lurks around every corner. Can they fight through all the trouble that heads their way and defeat it? Can they overcome the others that would change them and claim them? Are they really true mates or just infatuated? Come along for the ride as their story takes twists and turns that surprise even Rain and Laurel.
Graphic sex for mature readers only. M/M M/F M/F/M
~Excerpt~
“Maybe we should take off before my brother gets back and hide somewhere.” Rain said with mischief lighting up his eyes.“I’d almost consider it if I thought we could lose him. Isn’t he one of the best trackers around?”“Yes, but maybe he would get the message that we’d like to be alone.” Rain said as he put his arms around her leaning in to lightly move his lips across hers. Damn that felt heavenly. She moaned even though she tried to muffle it. His lips came back for more contact. This time he really kissed her not just with his lips but his tongue licked across her lips finding an opening. He slid in exploring her mouth until he found her tongue. Their tongues clashed struggling for supremacy until they heard a throat clearing. Dare was not her favorite person right then or Rain’s either by the look on his face.
Buy Links: Amazon Barnes and Noble Smashwords
Crystal is giving away 2 ebook copy of Jericho, The Strong Pack Series Book 1 during her tour.
For a chance to win Please fill out the rafflecopter below.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
~About the Author~
When she’s not out hunting rogue vampires and werewolves, you can find Crystal Dawn out exploring the galaxy. She can do it all without ever leaving her computer. She kicks ass, takes names, and puts it all down for the enjoyment of her readers. At least that’s what I think she told me. Writing came as a natural outlet for her overly creative mind. The start of her stories is the easy part. Finishing them is a little harder when all the stories are in there trying to get out. Other than writing, she loves reading, chocolate, fine sweet wine, and traveling among a large list of pursuits. Her favorite people, after her family and close friends, are her readers who she says are some of the most wonderful people in this galaxy and the next.
Author Links: Site Facebook Twitter Tumblr Tsu
February 1, 2015
Silk by Chris Karlsen #JackTheRipper @authorckarlsen
What would you do to stay young: Lie, Manipulate..kill?
London-Fall, 1888
The city is in a panic as Jack the Ripper continues his murderous spree. While the Whitechapel police struggle to find him, Detective Inspector Rudyard Bloodstone and his partner are working feverishly to find their own serial killer. The British Museum’s beautiful gardens have become a killing ground for young women strangled as they stroll through.
Their investigation has them brushing up against Viscount Everhard, a powerful member of the House of Lords, and a friend to Queen Victoria. When the circumstantial evidence points to him as a suspect, Rudyard must deal with the political blowback, and knows if they are going to go after the viscount, they’d better be right and have proof.
As the body count grows and the public clamor for the detectives to do more, inter-department rivalries complicate the already difficult case.
Silk on the skin—luxurious, luscious..lethal.
Available from:
Excerpt:
He wrapped an end in each hand and pulled. His fingers crept up the silk and he tugged a bit harder still. The material pressed deeper into the flesh of her neck. Bright pink dotted her cheeks and radiated down to her jaw. The veins in her temples popped out and pulsed in time to her heartbeat. She moaned, pushed her hips upward and writhed against him. Her soft pubic hair tickled his testicles. Isabeau’s unsubtle way of letting him know she wanted him inside her. He obliged.
Her hands encircled his wrists. She tugged hard outward, harder than usual. A choked sigh escaped her. He paid no attention. This was standard. Isabeau always insisted he maintain pressure until she signaled for him to release his hold. In the past, when she reached the edge of consciousness, she’d beat along his upper arms. This time she thrashed her head back and forth, something he hadn’t seen before. Her eyes bulged in an unattractive way and she clawed at him. Her nails gouged the skin on his hands, drawing blood.
She hurt him and he wanted to slap her. He almost let go of one end of the scarf to do that. Instead, he pulled tighter. Isabeau tried to insert her fingers into the spot where the material crossed over. Her mouth opened and shut, soundless and fishlike. She swatted at the mattress wildly. Red-faced to the point of being near purple, she bucked beneath him.
She fired his blood with her lack of inhibition. Never had she responded with such intensity. Raw power surged through him, primitive, animalistic. He pumped hard. Ready to climax, William clenched his fists, twisting the scarf one last turn. Odd, feathery touches tapped his biceps, feminine and subtle grazes, and then she went limp. Spent, he released his hold and collapsed on top of her, his heart pounding while he caught his breath.
Isabeau didn’t move and her head stayed turned to the side. She hadn’t cried out the way she normally did when sated. Perhaps she was disappointed with his effort. He gave the thought a mental shrug. At the end of the day, it really didn’t matter. He’d arrange for her departure first thing in the morning.
William rolled over and slung a sweaty arm over his eyes. He tried to decide which was worse, telling her tonight the affair was over or waiting until morning. The idea of doing it after such a rambunctious sexual endeavor seemed bad form, but he wanted to get it over with. He turned onto his side, prepared for histrionics, caterwauling, great tears and verbal abuse.
“Isabeau, look at me. I’ve come to a decision and it will likely distress you.” Nothing. She didn’t stir. “Isabeau?”
He shook her by the arm. Still no response. William let go and her arm dropped listless to the mattress. He raised her arm again and let go. Again, it fell listless. He straddled her and patted her cheeks. Nothing. Her head twisted without resistance first right then left depending on the direction of his pat. He slapped her harder. Nothing. Vacant eyes stared fixed on the ceiling. He bent an ear to her chest. Nothing. William leapt from the bed, snatched a silver mirror from the dressing table, and held it under her nose. Nothing.
“Bitch.” William hurled the mirror against the wall. “Bitch, whore,” he raged and paced along the side of the bed. “I will not allow you to make my life a nightmare. This was your doing. I told you to leave me alone.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
I was born and raised in Chicago. My father was a history professor and my mother was, and is, a voracious reader. I grew up with a love of history and books.
My parents also love traveling, a passion they passed onto me. I wanted to see the places I read about, see the land and monuments from the time periods that fascinated me. I’ve had the good fortune to travel extensively throughout Europe, the Near East, and North Africa.
I am a retired police detective. I spent twenty-five years in law enforcement with two different agencies. My desire to write came in my early teens. After I retired, I decided to pursue that dream. I write two different series. My paranormal romance series is called, Knights in Time. My romantic thriller series is, Dangerous Waters.
I currently live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband, four rescue dogs and a rescue horse.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4822048.Chris_Karlsen
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorckarlsen
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/chriskarlsenwriter
Website: http://chriskarlsen.com/
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Chris-Karlsen/e/B005HYTQQI
BN Author Page: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/chris-karlsen
January 31, 2015
How The Vargr Clan Trilogy Became by Angela Stevens #Fantasy #Paranormal
Tore Vargr finds his world turned upside down when he is forced to choose between the love of his life and the life he loves. Tore chooses Annike, disrespects his brother, Erik, and sets off a chain of events that shape his life in a way he could never have imagined.
Outlawed from his clan, Tore embraces his new responsibilities of father and protector as he carves out a new life in a human world. But a jealous brother has a long memory and Erik is nothing if not patient, when it comes to exacting revenge. When Tore’s past catches up with his present, he has to learn to pull from an inner strength.
There is a battle of two wolves inside us all.
One is evil: it is anger, envy, greed, arrogance, jealousy, resentment, lies.
The other is good: it is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, truth.
The wolf that wins?
The one you feed.
— Cherokee proverb
I began writing this book back on January 1st 2012. At the time I had this madcap idea of having a go at writing an urban fantasy story. I don’t know where I got this wild idea from, as my first book had been a traditional romance story. However, I had this very vivid scene in my head for the opening chapter and I ran with it.
In the beginning, the book was meant to be a stand-alone but, as I began to plan it out, it rapidly became obvious it was going to be a massive story. Unperturbed, I continued writing but by the time I reached 120k words, I knew the book was getting out of hand.
I took a few weeks off writing it and went back over all my plans and realized that what I had planned wasn’t one book but a trilogy. The scary thing was, that in order to make it work, I had to totally reorganize the whole structure of the book and that pretty much meant starting from scratch.
In the reorganization, a lot happened. I switched from writing in the third person, to writing in first, and I dramatically reordered the way the tale was going to be told. This meant that after the restructure was finished, what had been my initial first chapter — the one that had started off this whole project — now no longer features in the first book, The Wolf You Feed. Instead it has a new home, part way through the second book (Hold On).
The Vargr Clan Trilogy has been a huge challenge from start to finish. When I began writing it, I was very inexperienced and had absolutely no idea how a trilogy should be structured. However, I had read a lot of trilogies and had some pretty good instincts about how they worked.
Mid-restructure, I met another writer who took me under his wing. Alex McGilvery took on my mess of a story and gave me a thorough critique. This was the first time I’d ever had something like this done and it was very daunting. But, it was the best thing ever. Armed with pages upon pages of notes from him, I was able to wrestle it under control.
Further down the line, when I had all three books roughed out, I had my second stroke of luck. Another writer offered to go through my story with a fine toothcomb and find all the plot holes. Dean C Moore was amazing. Since then we have formed a partnership acting as each other’s structural editors and beta readers.
Over the two years, I have revisited and rewritten this manuscript too many times to count. I found that each time I went through it, I laid down yet another layer, building up the story.
Most recently, the three books received the most dramatic change of all. After getting advice from a lot of people, I decided to switch the whole trilogy from first person point of view back into third person.
Lessons I learned? Never, ever attempt to do this! However, despite it being a monumental headache to change the point of view, I don’t regret this decision for a moment. The Wolf You Feed had started out life this way and really it was never meant to be in the first person. Now it has gone full circle and, at last, I am pleased with how it has been told.
Themes in The Wolf You Feed:
At the beginning of The Wolf You Feed you can find a famous Cherokee proverb-
There is a battle of two wolves inside us all.
One is evil: it is anger, envy, greed, arrogance, jealousy, resentment, lies.
The other is good: it is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, truth.
The wolf that wins?
The one you feed.
This proverb is the backbone to this story. Tore Vargr is a man driven from his family and clan at a young age but despite his exile he is prepared to make the best of what he has. Tore is an inherently good man, who has a strong sense of family. He is happy with a simple life that revolves around his mate and his children. But when tragedy strikes, Tore finds himself at odd with himself. As revenge and hatred threaten to possess this good man, Tore struggles to break through a cycle of self-destruction and decide which wolf he feeds.
Excerpt: (1109 words taken from chapter two, The Wolf You Feed, a flashback to how Annike and Tore met)
The fire roared in the center of the clearing, taking the chill out of the December air. Fur boots kept out the snow, while woolen blankets draped across knees ensured shivers were kept at bay. Tore joked with his friends as they shared sodas and wild tales. They fell silent, their eyes flicking to someone behind him. Tore turned. A tall elegant girl smiled at him. His friends forgotten, he found himself staring.
She asked if she could sit. Embarrassed and tongue tied, he shifted along the log to make room for her. Eavesdropping, he heard her friend call her Annike and he locked the information into his heart.
Almost immediately, Tore found himself captivated by her mouth. When her lips pursed in thought, he wondered what it would be like to kiss them. When she smiled, they curled up at the corners, creating pretty dimples in both her cheeks. As Annike ran her pink tongue across her bottom lip, he fantasized about their taste. When she caught her top one with her teeth, his breath caught in his throat.
They found themselves cocooned on the log, their friends having migrated to the barbecue pit. The soft glow of the fire lit up her face. Tore popped the cap on a soda, “You thirsty?”
She reached for the bottle, her fingers touching his. Moments later he blushed, realizing he still held it and was staring at her. Muttering an apology, he looked away. She laughed, placed the glass between her lips before offering it back. Tore put his own to the bottle, his heart skipping at the thought of her mouth having touched the same place.
“You’re Tore aren’t you?” It surprised him that she knew his name. “Annike.” She stretched out her hand. A tingle of excitement raced through him as skin slid across skin. “This is the first time I’ve been to one of these.” She waved her free hand at the partygoers. “I’m only halfway through my transition,” she explained.
Tore continued to hold her hand. “Thought I hadn’t seen you here before, I’ve just about finished mine. I turn eighteen this month.” He cursed himself. Was that all he could think of to say? Any minute now, she’d walk away and find someone more interesting to talk to. Think, Tore. Say something cool. “You…um…want to go for a walk?” Oh great, now why would you ask her that?
“Sure, I’d love to.” She stood folding the blanket that had been across her lap.
Oh, she does! Tore jumped to his feet slopping the soda, splashing her pant legs with fizzy orangeade. “Oh, I’m sorry…” He knelt down and used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe her legs. She was giggling. He blushed as he noticed the wet orange stains on the cream wool.
Damn, he sure was making a great impression.
“You ready?” She nodded towards the trees.
“Sure.”
She led the way through the crowds of other youths. Tore put his hand to the small of her back, not wanting to lose contact for a second.
As they walked through the woods, she slid her hand into his. “I saw you hunt yesterday.”
She did?
Her hand felt warm and soft in his and he squeezed it tighter.
“I was by the out crop. Watched your wolf come across the fields. You’re fast.”
“It was my first solo hunt. That doe almost got away from me.” Why did he say that? He should have shrugged it off, said he’d caught loads. Now she’d think he was a loser.
“It did? That must have felt good bringing her down, then. Haven’t tried it yet. I don’t have a clue how to read my instincts.”
“I could take you out. We could try something small together. I’ll talk you through it. Erik did that with me a few times before I went solo.”
“Would you? I’d like that.” She was breathless when she spoke. He wondered if she meant it, but her eyes were sincere. A burst of electricity shot through him, she meant it.
They stopped by the river and lent against a boulder to keep out of the wind. Her golden hair shone in the moonlight. Tore was again tongue-tied but she rescued him with a question about his studies. They chatted as they skimmed pebbles across the water’s surface.
“You’re not how I imagined,” she looked sideways, giving him another of her dimpled smiles.
“How long have you been thinking about me then?”
Now she blushed. She skipped another stone, “The others talk, tell stories.”
“They do? What do they say?”
“That you’re cocky. Have lots of human girlfriends. Stuff like that.”
For some reason, he hated that she’d heard that. “It’s just an act…I’m not like that… just talk, with the guys.”
“I’m glad it’s not true.” That whispered breathiness had crept back into her voice. Stone-skimming forgotten, he found himself gazing into her eyes. As she returned his stare, their hands reached out and connected. As their fingers laced, a fluttering in his stomach caused his heart to play copy-cat. He leaned forwards, stopping inches from her mouth.
Annike pulled her hand away and brushed the snow from her clothes. She started to walk down the path and Tore hurried after her.
Did he do something wrong?
“We should get back. Nea will wonder where I went. I didn’t tell her I was going.”
“Nea?”
“My friend from earlier. We look out for one another, she’ll worry.”
Tore walked her back to the campfire, wishing time would slow down, so he could have her to himself for longer. All too soon, they were back in the crowds. She surprised him by sitting down beside him instead of finding her friend. Tore pushed his luck further as he sat closer and pulled a blanket over their laps.
Hours later, the crowds thinned. Annike watched them disperse. “I’d better head back too, I suppose.”
They stood, the silence awkward for a moment. Tore wondered if he should ask to see her again. Before he plucked up courage, she stood on tiptoe and pulled him by his sweater to her. Did he dare chance a kiss? Her honey scent filled his senses as she whispered in his ear.
“Tore, Son of Isak, one day you’re going to be my mate.”
Annike didn’t wait for an answer. She turned and left.
A stupid grin appeared on Tore’s face. He watched her curvaceous hips sway back and forth, hypnotizing him as she walked away. With those words, she laid her claim. And with that smile, he accepted his fate.”
Hold On, Book 2 in the Vagr Clan Series is now available on Amazon.
Part two in the emotional Vargr Clan Trilogy. After the tragic events of 1997, Tore Vargr is consumed by hatred and despair. As he battles once more with the two wolves within him, he is in danger of losing everything he holds dear.
Author BIO
Angela Stevens is the author of contemporary adult romance novel Lemon Drops and Love and the newly released book 1 of her Urban Fantasy Trilogy, The Wolf You Feed. Her first children’s fantasy book, Mariquita will be out in the spring.
Angela is British born and moved to Virginia, USA nine years ago. Always a keen traveler, she has enjoyed spending time living outside of her native country. She is an ex-teacher and the mother of two children. When empty nest syndrome threatened, Angela turned to writing novels to fill her growing free time. Her hobby has now grown into a fully-fledged obsession and she works on her books full time.
Loving both contemporary romance and urban fantasy genres, Angela flip-flops between the two. If you ask which is her favorite, she is always undecided. For now her genres remain separate, but maybe in the not too distant future they may combine. She is currently trying to find the time to draw up plans for a steamy fantasy romance series, so watch this space.
When Angela is not writing you can find her indulging in her other passion, ice hockey. She discovered her love of this sport when she first moved to America. Now a rabid Washington Capitals fan, Angela can often be found ‘Rocking The Red’ at the Verizon center supporting her beloved team.
Author Links:
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAngelaStevens (FB)
https://twitter.com/angelastevens13 (Twitter)
https://www.AngelaStevens.net (Website)
http://bit.ly/1rORe6i book trailer for The Wolf You Feed
January 30, 2015
Paths to Publishing: The Healing Power of Words by Rachel Leigh Smith #amwriting
Reading and writing have been a part of me all my life. I was the kid who checked out stacks of books from the library half as tall as me, and read them all in a week. Weekly trips to the library were part of my childhood. I started playing with words of my own when I was about ten and decided to write what happens between the beach kiss and the wedding in Disney’s The Little Mermaid.
I was homeschooled from kindergarten through graduation, and my parents encouraged me to explore interests. When I started dabbling with writing and characters, they signed me up for a creative writing class hosted by another homeschooling family’s grandmother, a retired English teacher. Mrs. Murphy took my interest in words and stories and turned it into something I can’t live without.
I continued to dabble and play around all through high school. A friend and I created this elaborate world of interconnected characters and we’d write letters to each other as these characters. All of mine are male, and still live in my head in one form or another, plus a few dozen more. I have probably a million or more words handwritten on college ruled notebook paper. And a permanent groove in my right middle finger from so many hours of holding a pen. No matter what I find myself writing, it’s all about him.
In 2007, I decided to get serious about writing and joined my first professional writers organization, American Christian Fiction Writers. I met a lot of friends, including my crit partner (aka the other half of my creative brain), and set about learning how to write an actual novel. Historical romance was my favorite genre to read, so that’s what I settled on learning how to write. And I wanted it to be all about the hero.
Along the way I learned about the ins and outs and intricacies of the Christian romance market. And began to find it stifling my creativity. I really wanted to write about Russia, which is an impossible sell in the Christian market. In an effort to break in I found another period and culture I could write about that had the same air of mystery as 19th century Russia: antebellum Creole Louisiana. Not coincidentally, I was the head archivist and tour guide at a local Creole plantation turned museum, Kent House, here where I live. I was immersed in Creole plantation culture and life.
While working on the first draft of that novel, I got married. And the marriage blew up in my face. He was not who he claimed to be. In fact, he turned out to be an abusive narcissist. Because of what I went through for eleven months, my words dried up. I had to leave, and I moved back home with my parents. I went an entire year without writing a single word. I was dying inside, and my one way of working through things was locked away so tight I couldn’t get it open for anything.
Going from someone who wrote every day, to someone who couldn’t get words out, was torture. I didn’t want to live that way, and yet I couldn’t see my way out of it. My dreams weren’t only dead, they had been shattered into a million pieces and thrown in my face as stupid and idiotic.
In January 2011, my grandmother fell and broke her thigh bone. After her second surgery I went to stay with her for a month while it healed and she got back on her feet. While there, surrounded by my grandmother’s love and her oasis of peace, my words came back! By October I had a 110,000 word finished novel.
It’s a Christian historical romance, set in 1857 central Louisiana, with a triple whammy of “no one will buy this.” Interracial relationships, the hero is the strongest character, and Catholic main characters. And an adultery subplot. I pitched it to two of the premier historical romance agents in the Christian market in September of 2011 at the ACFW conference. Both loved it, but didn’t think they could sell it. It was exhilarating and disheartening all at the same time. (If you write Christian fiction, the ACFW conference is amazing and worth every penny.)
I’m not one who easily gives up, so even though everyone said I couldn’t sell it, I persevered and started the next book in my Creole world. And promptly stalled out in the spring of 2012. I was trying to force myself to make it about her, when the story was really about him.
Then the most amazing thing happened. On the night of what should have been my third wedding anniversary, May 16th, I had a dream. A humanoid alien walking through a forest saying one word over and over and over. I woke up the next morning, figured out what the word was, and A’yen (the alien in the dream) sat down and started telling me his story.
Eighty-six days later I had a 97,000 word science fiction romance, a genre I had no idea existed. Since then I’ve written four more novels set in this universe. But before that happened, I did the expected thing and started researching and querying. I made it to the third of four rounds of an open submission call at Harper Voyager in the fall of 2012. I kept querying and submitting, and getting no from everyone.
I tried to set the A’yen’s Legacy universe aside and come up with something more marketable. I love what I came up with, but A’yen wouldn’t leave me alone. By this point, I knew what self-publishing was, but I didn’t really take it seriously. It wasn’t “real” to me. Yet.
As you’ve probably guessed, I’m a Christian. My faith is the most important part of my life. I was trying to do the writing thing my way, when God had other plans. Last May, the 29th to be exact, I gave in to what I was being told and decided to publish A’yen’s Legacy myself.
From decision to first book coming out was three and a half months. It’s been a heck of a wild ride, and I’m having the time of my life! Doing it myself was the last thing I thought I’d do, yet it’s also a natural fit for me. I’m not afraid to learn new things, I like tinkering, I love researching, and most of all I love retaining absolute control of my story world. I don’t have to change things to meet a publisher’s expectations, or downplay the fact it’s the hero’s story and he’s the star.
I’d still like to have a traditional contract someday, but it’s no longer the driving force behind my story creation. For the first time in my writing career, I can write exactly what I want. Which is romance from the hero’s perspective. The heroine is definitely the second character.
A’yen’s Legacy is still growing in my head, and I’ll write in the world as long as I keep getting new novel ideas. Eventually I want to branch out and publish my other SFR series, because it’s also really cool. No matter what book I put my name on, readers are guaranteed one thing: it’s all about the hero.
A’yen’s Legacy, Book Two
Release Date: January 20, 2015
Genre: Paranormal/Sci-Fi Romance
Freedom has a cost. Can A’yen pay it without losing his soul?
Liberation of the enslaved Lokmane begins with the king. A’yen and Fae agree to visit the Hidden, a group of escaped Lokmane, to protect his identity while the Shadows make their move with emancipation acts. But he’s not prepared for the prejudice rampant in the Hidden, or their lack of patience for him. And his new linked bodyguard is unstable to the point A’yen fears for the young man’s sanity.
Upon returning to Titan, A’yen is kidnapped and taken to the largest breeding farm in the galaxy. This time he’ll be himself even if it kills him. His resolve to unite his people grows as he wonders if he’ll live long enough to do it.
With A’yen kidnapped, Fae returns to the Lokmane homeworld seeking the final pieces of what happened two thousand years ago when they were conquered and enslaved. Getting as far away from her father as possible is the only way to keep her from disappearing too.
Separated by light years, A’yen and Fae have to stand alone and fight for their right to live in freedom. No matter the cost.
Excerpt:
A’yen’s body stiffened, though he tried to relax to keep the burning from coming back to the point he wanted to rip his skin off. Pure, unadulterated evil moved about the house.
He held still on the bed, breathing deep, trying to get a sense of who it might be. Damn stupid pain kept him so cloudy nothing of his telepathic field worked. He missed it. A man’s voice filtered through the closed door. Not close enough to make out the words. Who would come here?
The male voice disappeared and Fae sounded like she held to her sanity by a single thread. She needed him. Now. He pulled his arms under his chest and pushed up from the bed. The room tilted. He grabbed the headboard with one hand, leaned forward, breathed deep again.
Something he’d never felt before crept into his muscles. A warmth, from outside himself. Not from Na’var either. The pain didn’t lessen, but he could move now. Slow, with deliberate care. He kept one hand on the bed, then the wall, moving toward a pair of shorts on the rocking chair. Whoever was out there didn’t need to see him without clothes.
The warmth remained, infusing him with enough strength to get the shorts on, make it to the hall and follow the voices to the living room. Pain accompanied him with every step, and if not for Fae’s need pulling him forward he’d go back to bed.
“Farran, how can you even think of keeping him? Males are more dangerous than you can imagine. I will not have you living here with someone capable of slitting your throat and running away.” Her father. His father-in-law. President of the Breeder’s Association board of directors.
“I’m thirty-two-years-old, Daddy. I think I can decide for myself how I’m going to live.”
A’yen stopped, leaning on the wall in an attempt to slow his breathing. She stood in the middle of the room, her back to him, hands clenched at her sides. Trembling.
“I’ve indulged you long enough. It’s time to come home and take your place. Without this male slave who’s obviously messed with your mind.”
He squared his shoulders and walked the last five feet into the living room. Stopped in the doorway. Leaned against it to hold himself up. “This male slave happens to be her husband and will not tolerate you talking to her in such a manner.”
Fae turned by degrees to face him. She tried to glare at him, but eyes reflecting unshed tears said she’d never been more thankful to see him. More fingers of warmth moved through his body. He crossed to her, folded her in his arms, stared at Benai Hart. She pressed into the safety of his embrace, her trembling forcing the pain to the back of his mind.
“Do you not know who I am?”
“I do. I bow to no one.”
Author Bio:
Rachel Leigh Smith writes romance for the hero lover. She lives in central Louisiana with her family and a half-crazed calico. When not writing, which isn’t often, she’s hanging with her family, doing counted cross-stitch, or yakking about life, the universe, and everything with her besties. There may also be Netflix binging . . .
She blogs sporadically at www.rachelleighsmith.com, can be found on Twitter @rachelleighgeek, and hangs out on Facebook, www.facebook.com/rachelleighsmithauthor. You can sign up for her newsletter here. She’s an active member of the Science Fiction Romance Brigade and Romance Writers of America.
January 29, 2015
Paths to Publishing: Getting Published: My “How-To” Guide by Jax Daniels #amwriting
I’m going to be honest and up-front. I haven’t the foggiest.
A friend recently asked me how I got published and I gave her a flippant (albeit honest) answer: I entered a contest. A look of confusion followed by disappointment flashed across her face, and I realized that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. She wanted a gritty, starving-artist, lots-of-rejections, on-the-brink-of-suicide type of answer. Seriously. I entered a contest.
I shared this story with another friend who, having known me for decades, said, “Well, that’s not entirely true.” She reminded me that she had to slog through many, many flaccid and unimaginative novels of mine in our writer’s group. “That paid off,” she said. That was indeed true.
Then I recalled the novels I wrote years before joining a writer’s group, good ideas all, but very poor execution. A couple of those I had, in fact, sent to publishers who responded appropriately: “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I lost interest in the process. It’s hard to be told your story isn’t good; you created it, so if it’s not good, you must not be good. I continued to write, but I did so for myself. My imagination, my stories, all for me.
A few years later I joined a writer’s group, a small trio of women who had similar genre interests. This was a pivotal experience for me; now I was told “this is terrible” to my face! However, I was also told why, what was missing, what needed to be there, and what needed to be eliminated. When you’re new to the experience, it’s quite similar to the rejection letters. I know why people avoid these situations. They are uncomfortable. They are confidence eliminators.
I, again, lost interest.
One day, my husband issued me a challenge: can you write a novel where the bad guy isn’t a man? He wanted to read more “man vs nature” or “man vs mystics” type of books, and asked me to give it a try. I did, and about the same time my writer’s group got back together. I had them review it, but given my first round of experiences had learned to take want I needed and leave the rest. It made the experience much more cathartic, not to mention, useful.
Halfway through this I got struck with an idea, one that insisted on being put to paper and now! I wrote an entire novel in three days. I gave it to a friend for editing, only to have her say, “You know, the hero needs to be a heroine.” Back to the drawing board…
Three’s a charm. I kept a fair number of elements of the second book, turned the man into a woman, added some setting and violá, Winki Witherspoon was born.
Enter the Assent Publishing contest. They asked for the first fifty (50) pages, which I polished and sent away. Within twenty-four hours they emailed me, asking for the whole manuscript. I sent it off, too, with an email explaining “This hasn’t been edited!”
Forty-eight hours later I had a contract in my inbox.
What to take from this? Firstly, don’t give up. If you love writing, if you just have something to say, or worlds to share, or character to introduce, do it. Do it, do it, do it. Secondly – and I cannot stress this enough – join a writer’s group. At very least you’ll get readers, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get support and great feedback. Lastly, don’t give up! I’m under no illusion that a great amount of luck is involved, some to liken it to winning the lottery. But, you’ll never get published if you stop writing.
Best of luck to you!
Title: The Dead Man’s Deal
Publisher: Assent Publishing
Date Published: August 12, 2014
Genre: Fantasy
Word Count: 95k
When her husband Will is unexpectedly killed Winki Witherspoon inherits more than just a New Orleans’s mansion. She inherits his “talents”, or magical ability she never knew he had. The new domestic staff (her butler Jeeves, her maid Mrs. Black, her cook Mrs. White, and her mad-scientists, Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson) help prepare her for the annual Tournament, a brutal conflict where House Champions vie to control the flow of good or evil energy into the mortal plane. Winki soon realizes, however, that one of them is a traitor, and possibly her husband’s killer. From beyond the grave Will guides her through her new life while warning her of evil’s temptation, a vice he once succumbed to. With the help of her silent healer and her cockroach familiar, Winki must use her newfound talent to defend her home, find Will’s traitor, and protect the world before she is killed… or turns evil herself.
Available from Amazon
Excerpt:
It happened again last night.
I sprawled lifelessly on my sofa, without the nerve to sleep alone in our… my king sized bed the last few months. Will passed away unexpectedly last November. Since then I had spent miserable and depressed days flipping emotionlessly through TV channels, napping on and off as the rest of the world hummed and buzzed about its business with a vitality, or even vague interest, I no longer possessed. Driven from the world by my anguish, driven from the bed by my loneliness. As a result, I made my camp on the davenport.
But lately, in maybe the past week or so, this weird experience, or dream, or something kept happening. Just as I dozed off, just after Craig Ferguson said his goodnight on the Late Late Show, just as my attention lost its already tenuous mooring, it happened again. The TV and all the lights in the room popped and dimmed, as if a sudden brownout had hit the city. Then the clasp. Cold, very cold fingers clutched my forearm, just above my wrist. Just as it had the nights before.
I jerked upright. My heart raced as panic filled me. Let go of me! I looked down but saw nothing. Though I could see no indentations on my skin the grip remained tight and unyielding. I lurched off the sofa but the clutch never wavered. I felt trapped. I felt helpless. I felt like I was losing my mind. As I gasped to scream—another pop. The lights and TV brightened and the grip vanished.
Just as they had the other nights.
What the hell was happening to me?
Author Bio:
Jax Daniels was born in Chicago, raised in Denver, educated in Berkeley (go Bears!), and employed as a software engineer in the Bay Area and Seattle. Needless to say, she’s seen a good deal of the continental US, so when it came time for her and her husband to settle down, they picked New Orleans. They live in a townhouse they call “The Tower” in Uptown with their two dogs, Savannah and Bert. Other passions besides writing are walks, yoga, and her stained glass creations.
Author Links:
Follow me: http://twitter.com/JaxDNOLA
Friend me: http://facebook.com/jax.daniels.180
Read me: http://winkiwitherspoon.com
Find me: http://jaxdaniels.com
Bug me: http://bugsmind.com
#Free Read Friday: Tuesday Nights by Linda Rae Sande
Tuesday Nights
Book 1 in The Sons of Aristocracy
Olivia has felt affection for her father’s business partner since the day Michael rescued her from a rake. Since he’s never shown a romantic interest in her, imagine her shock when he climbs into her bed one night! Discovered by her father, the two are forced to marry. Will a week be enough time for Michael to court Olivia? Or will he regret his last-minute efforts to get married? Time will tell!
Available for Free Download:
Advance Review Copy opportunity: Perilous Play by Suz deMello #BDSM
Author Suz DeMello is looking for 5 reviewers who are willing to leave an honest review of her #BDSM novel.
Interested parties, please leave a comment on this post with your email address and whether you’d like a Kindle version (MOBI) or a Nook/Kobo version (EPUB). Also, please state that you understand that you’re agreeing to leave an honest review of the story on Amazon in exchange for a free copy of the story.
One woman’s journey into the contemporary kink underworld, Perilous Play is Suz deMello’s explosive personal account of her experiences with BDSM. Engaging and honest, this groundbreaking memoir will grab you and never let you go.
Links:
Info Needed:
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Email Address:
Preferred file format (Epub or Mobi):
Don’t forget to leave an email address!
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