Melissa Snark's Blog: The Snarkology, page 47
January 28, 2015
Paths to Publishing: Nurturing Your Dreams by Maureen L. Bonatch #amwriting #TWRP
For as long as I could remember, the story ran through my mind. It wasn’t festering as long as some of my stories now as they battle for my time and attention since I was only about ten at that time. Finally, an assignment in junior high provided me the opportunity to write the story of a girl who could talk to the animals. (I should’ve known then that I’d fall hardest for the paranormal genre.) My heart dropped, and my dream was shelved, when I got the story back covered with the dreaded red markings.
I’ve since grown a much thicker skin, and now anticipate the red markings to make the story better, but I can’t help but wonder if that teacher hadn’t been a little bit more encouraging if I would’ve found the courage to seriously pursue my writing sooner. I did continue to feed my writer’s soul through journaling, writing poetry and flash fiction stories for the years that followed.
Then about eight years ago I sat down as a new year geared up and wondered what was missing. I let the words flow onto a blank page as I tried to ferret out what would fill the empty space inside. As I dug through the layers of doing all the right, responsible, expected things year after year I found what had always been there underneath it all, waiting for it’s time to shine…what brought me joy, writing. I’d always been a writer. I just hadn’t embraced that part of myself. So I did.
I began taking online classes, reading books on the craft and pretty much devouring anything related to writing with an unquenchable thirst. I no longer had to make the time to write, I had to make the time to do other things rather than write.
An assignment for one of my classes was to submit a short story for publication; this turned into my novella, That Magic Moment, and was published by The Wild Rose Press. Since then I’ve written several other novels and had the first published in 2014 by The Wild Rose Press, Destiny Calling.
So when my twin daughters starting writing their stories in elementary school…I praised them, encouraged it, and told them their stories were wonderful. Sure they might have plagiarized a bit in the stories they wrote at age seven or eight, but they were good and they’ve gotten better. They’re thirteen now and actively write short stories as well as Percy Jackson fan fiction on Wattpad. When they tell me they want to be writers, I tell them they already are.
Destiny Calling
The Enchantlings
Volume 1
Maureen L. Bonatch
A Paranormal Romance from The Wild Rose Press
Released: December 22, 2014
Buy Links:
Hope Doesn’t Know If The Man She Can Touch Is A Dream Come True, Or A Nightmare Just Beginning.
Hope only wants to find out if her ability to infuse euphoria or despair with her touch makes her the devil’s spawn, or his exterminator. But when the woman who raised her is murdered by something not human, she loses the only family she knew and discovers one she might wish she hadn’t.
Drawn back to the hometown she vowed never to return to, her ability is seen as an asset to everyone but Hope, and she doesn’t know who to trust. Her family wants her to help them overcome an enemy oppressing the human population, while the man of her dreams is courting her for the Underworld.
Time is running out, and Hope’s choice may be made for her, as she discovers she’s a pawn in a bigger game played by a merciless ruler who doesn’t lose.
Excerpt:
I strained to release my arm from Griffith’s vise-like grip while scanning the surrounding trees, trying to determine which was less of a threat, the beast of a man holding me or those who might be waiting for me in the woods.
“You will come inside, now.” Griffith spoke slowly and deliberately as if I were a small child.
I batted at the hand Griffith placed on my head. “I’m not a puppy, quit petting me.”
“I will protect you.” Griffith’s warm breath caressed my ear. “If for no other reason, to find out what I’m giving up and why she wants you so badly.”
I inhaled his masculine scent, like musky earth. It washed over my face, and the tension in my jaw released. I stopped struggling. “Are you the devil?” My tongue was thick and heavy so the words came out slurred.
“Not even close.” His words soothed and comforted, like having a weighted blanket cocoon me. Each movement was an effort. It wasn’t the same as the thing in the woods. This was more like the feeling after a long massage or bubble bath.
“It’s not safe.” Griffith wrapped his arms around me, and I rested against his broad chest.
“It’s not safe.” I nodded. My muscles relaxed and my eyelids grew heavy.
“It’s cold. We’re going inside.” Griffith kept his arm supporting me as he steered me toward the house.
“We’re going inside.” I parroted and walked up the steps, leaning heavily on him.
Out of the corner of my eye, something was cautiously moving at the edge of the woods. Branches snapped as whatever was observing us crept closer.
About the Author:
Growing up with four siblings had Maureen familiar with escaping into a good book, or the recesses of her mind. She realized later in life everyone didn’t have characters telling stories in their heads, or weren’t envisioning magic and mayhem within the everyday. This, and long walks in the beautiful state of Pennsylvania spawned a love of writing.
Since her desire to become a Solid Gold Dancer was thwarted when the show was discontinued, Maureen opted to pursue other paths. Attempting to conquer new endeavors proved fruitful with her first novella, while other attempts, such as challenging a fear of heights with parasailing, were unsuccessful.
Therefore she’s chased other interests, though none-the-less-daring, but closer to the ground, such as belly-dancing, becoming a self-proclaimed tequila connoisseur, fulfilling her role as biker babe to her alpha hubby and surviving motherhood to twins (so far).
Penning stories boasting laughter, light suspense and something magical in the hope of sharing her love of finding the extraordinary in the ordinary world.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/mbonatch
Blog: http://www.maureenbonatch.com/blog
Website: http://www.maureenbonatch.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/1AV4L
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/maureenbonatch/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/maureenlbonatch
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3103486.Maureen_L_Bonatch
A Perfect Catch @annasugden @HarlequinBooks #Giveaway
He’s the perfect catch…for now!
When it comes to romance, Tracy Hayden is not looking for a rematch. She’s had epic passion—and problems!—with professional hockey player Ike Jelinek. Brilliant on skates and magic in bed, his too-traditional-for-her views were like a bucket of ice water on their affair.
Then an injury takes Ike out of the game, and everything changes. Suddenly he needs her services-providing business—even though he once claimed it was their biggest problem. Tracy’s determined to be professional, despite the sizzling attraction between them that won’t go away. Maybe they need a second fling to fix that!
Buy Links:
EXCERPT:
“Why does it take so long to have a baby?”
At her niece’s question, Tracy Hayden looked up from the stack of invoices she was logging into her business’s accounting system.
She smiled at Emily, who was playing a game on the other home-office computer. “They don’t have bar codes on their bums, so you can’t just pick them up at a grocery store.”
Tracy’s sister, Maggie, had gone to the hospital early that morning, when her water had broken. The latest update from Maggie’s anxious husband, Jake, at 5:00 p.m., had been that all was progressing well, if a bit slowly.
Now, at seven-thirty, ten-year-old Emily’s excitement was stretched thin by the lack of action.
“Very funny, Auntie Tracy.” The soon-to-be older sister rolled her eyes. “Do you think Mummy’s having a girl or a boy?”
“Hmm.” Tracy pretended to consider the question seriously. “I have a feeling the sproglet is a boy.”
Her niece leaned forward eagerly. “Why?”
Tracy lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Your mum put sugar in her cup of tea yesterday. They say you need extra sweetness if you’re having a boy.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “She also ate a whole bar of Cadbury’s chocolate from her stash.”
“Aha.” Tracy snapped her fingers. “That settles it.”
“A baby brother would be okay,” Emily mused. “He wouldn’t want any of my things. Plus he’ll like sports. I could teach him to skate and play hockey.”
Tracy clipped the invoices together, then slipped them into a folder marked November Bills. She’d allocate them to the appropriate accounts tomorrow. “That would be nice.”
“Maybe he’ll even get to play on the Ice Cats like Daddy Jake.”
Jake “Bad Boy” Badoletti was a star defenseman for the local professional hockey team, the New Jersey Ice Cats. He and Maggie had gotten together after his transfer from Chicago a few years ago, when Maggie had helped him find a place to live. Though she’d been wary of falling for another pro athlete after escaping an abusive marriage to Emily’s father—an English Premier League soccer player—Jake had eventually won the hearts of both mother and daughter. As well as being an avid fan of her stepfather’s team, Emily had also become a good mites’ hockey player.
The child pouted. “It’s not fair that girls can’t play for the Ice Cats.”
“You never know. Maybe you’ll be the second woman to play in the NHL.”
“But Manon Rhéaume was a goaltender.” Em wrinkled her nose. “I want to be a forward and score lots of goals.”
Naturally. Her niece was all about action.
The phone rang, startling them both.
Tracy’s heart leaped into her throat as she saw Jake’s number. She snatched up the receiver. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He sounded a little befuddled. “We have a boy. Eight pounds, six ounces. Mom and son both doing well. Dad’s not sure he ever wants to go through that again.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be Maggie’s line?” Tracy said drily.
“She had an epidural. I did the whole thing without anesthetic.”
She laughed. “A tough guy like you can’t handle childbirth. I’m shocked.”
“I can’t believe, having survived it once with Emily, she’d be willing to do it again.” He paused and Tracy could almost feel his shudder down the phone. “Maggie’s one tough cookie.”
“She certainly is.”
Despite what she’d been through, Maggie had not only managed to make a fresh start in the US, but she’d also embraced marriage again.
Something Tracy couldn’t do after her own disastrous experience. That mess wasn’t something she wanted to think about. Not when there was a new life to celebrate. “So, are you up for visitors?”
“Sure. Whenever you can get here. I’ll call my parents next and get them to pass the news to everyone else.”
After she’d hung up, Tracy turned to Emily. “A boy,” she said smugly.
“You rock, Auntie Tracy.” Emily reached across the back-to-back desks to fist-bump her. “When can we go to see him?”
“Right now.” Tracy saved her files, then switched off her computer and stood. “Get your coat and we’ll head over.”
Em dashed out of the office. A moment later, she stuck her head back around the door. “Don’t forget the teddy bear.”
“I won’t. He’s already in the gift bag by the front door.”
The drive to the hospital passed quickly, with Emily chattering like a magpie about her new sibling. As they walked across the parking lot toward the hospital entrance, Emily squealed and darted toward a tall dark-haired man getting out of a black Mercedes SUV.
“Uncle Ike!”
Tracy’s pulse hitched at the familiar figure of Ice Cats goaltender Eisenhower “Ike” Jelinek.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Harlequin SuperRomance author, Anna Sugden, loves reading and writing happy endings as much as hockey! When not reading or watching hockey, she loves football, good food & wine, making simple cross-stitch projects, and collecting memorabilia, penguins and fab shoes!
A former marketing executive and primary teacher, Anna lives in Cambridge, England, with her husband and two bossy black cats. Learn more about Anna, her heart-warming romances and her shoes at www.annasugden.com . You can also follow her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/annasugden.romanceau...), Twitter (www.twitter.com/annasugden) Pinterest (www.pinterest.com/annasugden) and on the Romance Bandits blog (www.romancebandits.com
January 27, 2015
Paths to Publishing: Striving for excellence by Barbara Meyers #amwriting
Barbara is sponsoring a giveaway for published books from her back list. Please check below for instructions on how to enter for a chance to win.
I don’t suppose many authors begin their writing careers by throwing another author’s book across the room and declaring, “I can write better than that,” but that’s how I started. It was a long time ago but I was that disgusted with a poorly written romance novel when I arrived at “the end.”
When I started writing contemporary romance I had no clear goal and no idea what I was doing. I loved creating stories and characters, but I was truly clueless about plot development. I had a lot of ideas and when I “finished” one manuscript I’d start another. The queries I sent out never went anywhere but I didn’t care. I just kept writing.
Until one day I looked around and realized I had a lot of unpublished manuscripts. I was either going to have to get serious about pursuing publishing or give it up. If no one was reading my work, what was the point of writing all these stories? I’d had a little success with a small publisher but those early books weren’t really what I wanted to write. All the good stuff was edited out!
I picked up one of my “almost done” rough drafts, the one I thought would be the easiest to revise with the best chance of publication, blew the dust off it and went to work. My goal was to query a hundred editors and agents before I gave up.
Imagine my surprise when (about thirty queries in) an editor at Samhain Publishing emailed saying she wanted to offer a contract. I was beyond dubious and questioned her at length because I didn’t quite believe she knew what she was doing. Turns out she did!
That book was A MONTH FROM MIAMI. I’d written the original draft in 1998. It was published in 2008. Although I didn’t know it at the time, it was also to be the first in a series of stand-alone but connected books from Samhain called the Braddock Brotherhood. Book four, WHAT A RICH WOMAN WANTS, is due out in May 2015.
If you are just starting out as a writer, I suggest you put a date on everything you write and never get rid of anything!
I started NOBODY’S FOOL the year my son graduated high school. His BFF since age 15 was a girl he was crazy about who wouldn’t date him. She finally gave in when she was in college. They broke up twice and were apart for a long time before they reconnected again. They are now engaged. NOBODY’S FOOL isn’t based on them but it was inspired by them. I loved the idea of “no one knows you like I do and loves you anyway.” I couldn’t seem to finish my story until I knew how theirs was going to end.
I still write in a rather erratic pattern, working on two or three things at once. I’ve come to terms with my process, but I don’t recommend it. A friend gave me Debra Dixon’s book GOAL, MOTIVATION AND CONFLICT a few years ago which helped me straighten out my plot development.
I hope to continue putting well-written, enjoyable books into the marketplace where readers can find a pleasurable escape.
Watch for AJ Tillock’s GRINDING REALITY book number two, Cool Beans, due out summer 2015.
GIVEAWAY: Win a Barbara Meyers book of your choice by doing one or more of the following before January 31, 2015.
Comment on this blog (leave an email addy) = one entry
OR Follow and DM me on Twitter (cleverness counts!) @barbmeyers = one entry
OR Any new followers who LIKE my Facebook Author Page AND post a comment or send me a message = one entry
Title: NOBODY’S FOOL
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Date Published: 1/6/2015
Genre: romantic comedy
Word Count:61,000
Buy links:
She’s home to make amends. He’s out to get a little revenge. But the heart he breaks could be his own.
The Jolie Kramer who left Oak Ridge at eighteen isn’t the same one who’s home for her ten-year high school reunion. The old Jolie hid her secrets and insecurities behind her popular-girl image.
The new Jolie has returned triumphant from NYC older, wiser, and ready to make amends for the bridges she burned. Especially the one between her and Court Harrison, her biggest supporter since childhood.
Court hates to admit he’s still hung up on Jolie, and he’s vowed to finally put the past way, way behind him. She wants to kiss and make up? He’ll give her a taste of her own medicine. Make her fall for him—only this time, he’ll be the one walking away.
But his plan works a little too well, and by the time he realizes their feelings are real, it’s too late. She’s onto him, and he’s lost the only woman he’ll ever want. Unless she falls for plan B, which contains two things she can’t resist: a career challenge, and a chance to get a little revenge of her own.
Warning: Rife with broken hearts and burning desires. A class geek turned super-stud, and an ex-prom queen whose tiara is a bit tarnished. Three-hankie breakup scenes and three-alarm make-up sex. You’re welcome!
Excerpt:
He finally had everything he wanted. Jolie telling him she loved him. Jolie making love with him, spending the night with him. For years he’d dreamt of this.
Why then did he feel so rotten?
Because he wanted to believe in Jolie, in her love. He wanted to believe she could finally see they were meant for each other. But he wasn’t convinced that had happened at all. He knew Jolie too well. Everything came easily for her. She took it as her due. She always had.
He was afraid he hadn’t been much of a conquest. He’d fallen into her trap while trying to set one of his own.
He didn’t want to be another notch on her bedpost. Another man she’d had, one she could walk away from and not think twice. He wished he was one of those guys who could have sex and not think too much about it, but he wasn’t wired that way. His feelings for Jolie ran too deep. They’d been with him for as far back as he could remember. He couldn’t discard them. Not now. Not after she’d met or exceeded every fantasy he’d ever had about her.
He hadn’t expected her to be so eager, so open, so loving. He’d expected her to lie back and be worshipped by him. Yet she’d been more than engaged in the act from beginning to end. She’d surprised him that first time. And shocked him with her enthusiasm the second time.
Slowly, carefully, Court turned to his side away from her. He had to figure this out. Somewhere along the way his plan to prove that he was over Jolie had gone horribly awry. He wanted to walk away and never look back. He hadn’t realized the cost of doing so would be so high.
Author Bio:
I am the author of The Braddock Brotherhood series of sweet, spicy, sexy contemporary romances published by Samhain Publishing and two other novels. My short story, Katy’s Place, appeared in the 2013 Novelists, Inc. anthology.
Under the pen name, AJ Tillock, I venture into off-the-wall comedic fantasy with The Forbidden Bean, the first in the GRINDING REALITY series.
When not writing fiction, Dr. Seuss-like poetry or song lyrics, I disguise myself behind a green apron and supply caffeine-laced substances to addicted consumers for a world-wide coffee company.
I am still married to my first husband, have two fantastic children and one almost perfect dog. I’m originally from Southwest Missouri, and now reside in Central Florida.
Author Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/barbmeyers
Web Site: http://www.barbarameyers.com
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/BarbaraMeyersAuthorPage
January 26, 2015
Paths to Publishing: An Audio Book by Melissa Snark #amwriting #giveaway
December clubbed me over the nose like an unfortunate baby seal. Family visiting, holidays, children on vacation, and two book releases. Battle Cry released to ebook and paperback, and A Cat’s Tale released to audiobook on Dec. 31st.
It took me a while to compose my thoughts enough to write this post.
I’ve been interested in audio books for a couple years but it was a random conversation with a multi-talented friend–my cover designer, Farah Evers–that led to a startling realization. Farah has access to a sound studio and the equipment necessary to produce a music recording…or an audio book.
To break out the market–there are about 238,000 ebooks in the Amazon Kindle store under Romance, and about 30,000 ebooks in the Paranormal Romance sub genre. In comparison, there are 12,000 titles in Romance on Audible. (And less than 2,200 in the Fantasy sub genre at the time of this post.)
I don’t know about you, but I smell opportunity.
I spent a month or so performing an absolute freak out. I badgered Mr. Snark about financing the project, both the associated risk and the potential reward. I almost wore out my friendship with Sheryl R. Hayes with repeated requests for her to listen to audio samples. (Good news! She’s still talking to me. I think.)
I probably drove Farah up one wall, across the ceiling, and then down the opposite. We interviewed potential narrators and eventually hired Lilah Harding for the job. (My thanks go out to Lilah for all of her hard work. It’s very much appreciated.)
The production process itself was nerve-wracking and Farah did all the heavy lifting. I’m going to go out on a wire and do a couple back flips…I freaked out again when I found out that Lilah had started out her vocal career as a sex phone gal. (No offense intended if you’re reading this Lilah. You did a spectacular job.)
I’m going to discuss the implementation of the process, but allow me to begin by stating that I’m an Indie author. A Cat’s Tale was originally published with The Wild Rose Press in 2012. Once the rights reverted to me, I republished the story with a new cover. The only reason I was able to consider making an audio book was because I was the sole rights holder.
There isn’t one route to audio book publishing and I don’t mean to imply that mine is the only way or the correct way. It happens to be the route I chose to follow. There are a variety of options available for getting into the audio book market, and ACX has something for everyone.
For those not in the know, ACX is an “Audiobook Creation Exchange” that is owned by Amazon. It is the only route onto both Amazon and Audible for digital audiobook downloads. It also distributes to iTunes. They offer services to authors in the function of an intermediary between audio book producers and they distribute the audio files. They are not a publisher. They pay 40% royalties to the author/publisher and have a 7 year term.
I chose to pay for my audiobook upfront and out of pocket. At the end of the day, this means that I incur all the risk and reap all the rewards. My producer and narrator were paid upfront in a lump sum once the work reached completion.
ACX does offer an option to authors to hire a narrator and split the 40% royalty in half. Recently, an author explained to me that this is “free”. I countered by saying it’s not free. Under the royalty sharing option, you’re giving up 50% of your 40% royalty for 7 years. If your book does even reasonably well, then that can amount to a whole lot of lost income.
Allow me to ballpark a narrator’s cost at somewhere between $200-$550 per finished hour. A finished hour is probably 2-3 hours of work for the narrator. And about 7,500-8,000 words. (To put it into language an author can comprehend.)
The other author countered by saying that she doesn’t have $3,000 to spend on an audiobook. Fair enough. I understand her position but I’m not willing accept her interpretation that that split royalties are the same as free. Any publishing decision has associated costs and benefits, including whether to go Indie, Traditional Pub, or Small Press.
(For the record, I’m a hybrid author. My romance titles are with the best small press on the entire freaking planet. The Wild Rose Press. Voted Best Publisher of the Year by Preditors and Editors seven years running. Booyah!)
At this point, you’re probably wondering whether it’s paid off. I’ve been asked this more than once over the last month since the book came out. My answer is always the same… It’s too soon to tell.
Maybe next year once I have a solid 12 months of data to dissect. Until then, I’m gonna say, “It’s been a blast and it was worth the risk.”
Have a fantastic day everyone and thank you for stopping by. Leave a comment and I’ll enter you into a drawing for a randomly chosen winner to receive a free Audible copy of A Cat’s Tale.
Alpha werewolf, Jared Kohl, wakes up in a vampire’s dungeon, swearing revenge upon the wily Siamese werecat who lured him there with her sultry lips and the sweetest tail. To escape his undead captor, all he has to do is seduce the skittish puss and show her that trust is often a hot and hard lesson to learn.
Enslaved feline shifter, Josephine Young, has learned the hard way not to believe in anything or anyone – not men, not love, and certainly not the blood-sucking mistress who tossed her into the cage with the hungry beast she’d betrayed. But Josephine does what she must to survive, including tempting the dominant werewolf to give her more than promises.
Imprisoned for their blood, Jared and Josephine fight for survival and discover a passion that neither can walk away from. Can these two predators survive long enough to prove that cats and dogs can be more than enemies?
Amazon via Audible
iTunes
Perilous Play: The Real Fifty Shades by Suz deMello #BDSM #memoir @fetlife @MFRW_ORG
The cover of Perilous Play states: based on a true story. The fact is, very little in this memoir is fiction.
Places and names have been changed. The time in my life when these events occurred is altered. One scene was added, to wrap up the story and tie it in a tidy bow.
But otherwise, it’s all true.
Check it out:
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.
Here’s an excerpt about one of my first BDSM experiences, with a man I call Trapper Hart. Trapper is a real person. That’s not his true name of course, but I gave my word that I wouldn’t reveal his secret life. I don’t owe him anything—not after the way he treated me—but I do keep my word.
We explored the dungeon and the equipment. The play space was clean and nicely decorated, with the usual emphasis on chains and black leather. There were Saint Andrew’s crosses, racks and slings, all of which intrigued me. The old-fashioned dentist’s chair startled me. I’ve been with a dentist, and little about him had been sexy.
Upstairs was a huge, romantically draped bed with sturdy-looking bedposts. A few feet away was a contraption that looked as though it had been designed with bondage and discipline in mind. It had a horizontal ring to hold the face and head attached to a surface, perhaps three feet long, for one’s torso to rest upon. Arm and leg supports, and every inch of it was padded. Every part of it had rings for the attachment of ropes or chains.
I looked at him and then this…bondage device…and then back at him. He smiled.
I said, “I want you to know that when we do this, I’m going to develop some deep feelings for you. I’m falling for you.” I know myself fairly well, and am aware that for me, sex and intimacy are intertwined. I wish I didn’t feel that way, but I tend to become emotionally involved with the men I’m fucking. The weekend had already been very intimate, and deeper intimacy was coming. I asked Trapper, “Can you deal with that?”
I needed to know that I would be taken care of. Not just my body but my mind and heart as well.
He told me, “Yes, there will be a role for you.”
A niggle of doubt itched me briefly, but at the time, that was enough for me to hear. I was eager to advance into this new experience, one I had craved for so long.
He directed me to remove some of my outerwear before hooding and gagging me. Then he guided me to the whatever-it-was and eased me onto it face down. He secured wrist and ankle restraints around me, then tied them to it. Lifting my skirt, he cut off my black lace panties.
I told myself never to wear panties around Trapper again. What for?
So I was bound to immobility and completely available. I was gagged, which meant that I could maybe grunt out my “safe word” if necessary. Or not.
Again, I don’t recall exactly what happened…the amnesiac effect of the oxytocin, I suppose. I remember being spanked, flogged and thoroughly fucked. I remember being smacked repeatedly with something—I didn’t know what, but I suspected it was made of leather—that hurt like a motherfucker. I recall begging him, “Please, sir, please sir, please sir…” through the gag.
I remember coming a lot.
I remember Trapper bending over me, covering me with his body and heat, hissing into my ear, “Whose are you?”
To which I promptly responded, “I’m yours.”
And I meant it.
If what you have read intrigues you, here are a couple of buy links:
About me:
Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written nineteen books in several genres, including memoir, nonfiction, erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s held the positions of managing editor and senior editor, working for such firms as Totally Bound and Ai Press. She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
–Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com
–For editing services, email her at suzdemello@gmail.com
–Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/SuzDeMello
–She tweets @Suzdemello
–Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/suzdemello/
–Goodreads: http://bit.ly/SuzATGoodreads
–Her current blog is http://www.TheVelvetLair.com
#Snarkyreads: Twitter Review of PROTECTING HIS WITCH @AuthorZForward
The last thing he wanted was to fall for a witch…
Veterinarian Kat Ramsey hasn’t a clue that she’s a witch. Sure, she can read minds, and there’s the whole “dimension-hopping” issue that she can’t quite control, but Kat is determined to keep things normal. That is, until she accidentally hops into the Otherworld, and runs smack into Matthew Ryan―the seriously hot one-night stand from years ago who shoved her out of his dorm. Naked.
And there’s the tiny matter of the curse she gave him.
May you never find satisfaction with another woman. Billionaire and former druid Matthew Ryan hasn’t forgotten the curse, or the witch who gave it to him. Kat’s unexpected return means the curse will finally be broken. Unfortunately, his libido has other ideas―like how to get her back into his bed one last time. But far more worrying is his suspicion that Kat is the seventh Pleiades witch. Because while he’s turned his back on his druidic ways, he’s still bound to protect the woman who made his life hell…
The following Tweets reflect my thoughts and reactions as I read the book. They may container spoilers.
Review by Melissa Snark
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 24 @AuthorZForward I really hope she pulls a Kevin Bacon on this “Witches don’t dance crap.”
— Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
Kat and Matt are two passionate people from completely different worlds. (And yes, one of those worlds is a stuffy universe full of anal people who really do believe that witches should be forbidden to dance in public. I’m basically a rule breaker at heart, so this particular stricture annoyed the crap out of me. I’ve played the Footloose theme song more than once since I started the story and I kept hoping that the dimension-hopping heroine would find some way to grab Kevin Bacon’s character and pull him into the plot for one bust-out, bust a move scene involving cheesy 80s soundtracks.
Zoe Forward has a whole lot going on in her really original PNR universe. Her mythology is primarily Greek and largely unfamiliar to me. It’s certainly original, but there were points when I felt lost. Rarely do I say, “Gee, this story needs more back story.”
“Gee, this story needs more back story.”
I’m not a (complete) idiot, so I managed to follow the gist of most of what was going on. A few finer points probably continue to elude me. To hit the hammer on the head: this is a paranormal, modern day Romeo and Juliette tale of star-crossed lovers who are surrounded by awful, rule-bound idiots on all sides (both friend and foe).
Not to say that the annoying characters are cardboard. In fact, the author writes well-rounded and engaging secondary characters. You hate them. You feel sorry for them. And you really want to see (at least one of them) again in a story of their very own. The male vet (Kat’s partner) is absolutely scrumptious and I wanted to read more about him.
For the most part, I disliked the heroine. She kept making the same dumb mistakes and allowing suspicion/paranoia to rule her. By the time she ran out on the hero for the third time, I was ready to throttle her. To her credit, she does grow and learn and overcomes her cut and run bad behaviors.
Matt is delicious and drool-worthy. Absolutely a “want to see this man on a platter” hero. I felt for him and with him as he deals with his screwy druid family, personal issues, and the flighty heroine.
Sex scenes are HOT. No complaints here.
Let’s see…writing style is smooth and engaging. Pacing is good. Editing: solid.
I purchased the book and the author did not request a review. If a sniper kills me sometime in the next year, you guys know who the primary suspect should be.
Two Snarks Up. Snark on!
Book Title: Protecting His Witch
Publisher: Entangled (Covet)
Author: Zoe Forward
Release Date: 10/27/14
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Author Email: zforward@aol.com
Author Website: http://www.zoeforward.com
Author Blog: http:/www.zoeforwardblog.blogspot.com
Author Twitter: @ZoeForward1
Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorzoe.fo...
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Newsletter (address to sign up): http://www.zoeforward.com/contact.html
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Buy links:
Buy inks in list form:
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/protecting-his-witch-zoe-forward/1120504413?ean=9781633751002
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All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/productprotectinghiswitch-1644531-143.html
Author Bio:
Zoe Forward is a hopeless romantic who can’t decide between paranormal and urban fantasy romance. So she writes both. In addition to being a mom to one rambunctious kindergartener and wife to a conservation ecologist who plans to save all the big cats on the planet, she’s a small animal veterinarian caring for all the small furries, although there is the occasional hermit crab.
When she’s not typing at her laptop, she’s tying on a karate belt for her son or cleaning up the newest pet mess from the menagerie that occupies her house. She’s madly in love with her globe trotting husband of ten years and happiest when he returns to their home base in North Carolina.
EXCERPT
Softly he said, “Ten years ago you started whatever this thing is between us. You cursed me and then disappeared. How do you pop in and out of my life? Are you playing a game?” He massaged his forehead and whispered, “You really are one of the witches, aren’t you?”
Witches?
His low, teasing laugh sent a wave of goose bumps down the back of her thighs. Her gaze shot to his. His blue eyes simmered. He had shifted gears. This wasn’t the cool, iron will, interrogator Matt. Memory sucked her back to that night so long ago. This was the wild man. The man who exuded passion with each subtle movement. Answering need echoed throughout her body, burning her with the memory of their past.
He leaned over her. His eyes dilated like a cat about to pounce.
“I’m not a witch.” She tried to breathe evenly and mask her body’s reaction to the idea of being pinned again beneath all those hard contours. So big, broad…and, oh God, she was in trouble. Lust sizzled through her every nerve ending.
He laughed with a deep, rich sound. “Deny it all you want.”
#Snarkyreads: Twitter Review of PROTECTING HIS WITCH @AuthorZForward Ch. 17 LOL Love the little tuxedo strip tease. *G* — Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 19, 2015
Due to issues I’m having with Twitter, I’m unable to pull the HTML for most of the Tweets between this one and Chapter. 19. My apologies.
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 20 Picking up where I left off in chapter 20. Really need to stop trying to read 3 books at same time.
— Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 20 @AuthorZForward Ahh…okay, lover’s spat. I’m with Matt on this one. — Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 20 @AuthorZForward She’s sorry…this is a great opp to apologize. Why isn’t she apologizing. ARRRR!!!
— Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 20 @AuthorZForward I really like Charlotte. She’s cool. — Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 21 @AuthorZForward Damn it, I’m starting to feel sympathetic to Bryce. Really don’t want to like him.
— Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 21 @AuthorZForward Overdue apology! About time. Loovvee #sexymeantalk — Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 22 @AuthorZForward Curious…why can she teleport between dimensions but not within the same one?
— Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 22 @AuthorZForward To the train station! Time to tie the heroine to the rails! #correction — Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 23 @AuthorZForward Tons of action. Exciting chapter. Love that they finally got it right.
— Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 24 @AuthorZForward I really hope she pulls a Kevin Bacon on this “Witches don’t dance crap.” — Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
#snarkyreads PROTECTING HIS WITCH CH. 24 @AuthorZForward Wonderful story! Thank you!
— Melissa Snark (@MelissaSnark) January 26, 2015
January 25, 2015
Mission Impossible: Origins, Demo Book 1 by Farah Evers #SciFi
Dirty politics just got dirtier.
2155. Lebanon survives the Technological Collapse Era only to end up governed by tyrannical zealots who control higher technology.
When the unholy grail falls into their totalitarian hands, Suddeek Hassan, the grail’s only heir, finds himself on a mission to instigate an interplanetary new order with laws that originate from his own bloodline.
Available from:
The book took six years to write. 11 rewrites, 8 editing rounds, countless proof rounds (over 15), and 3 editors and a critique editor. I don’t have kids but I suspect labor is easier to endure than all the blood, sweat, and tears that went into this. The last major rewrite took place after release. I wanted to make a political statement in favor of progress and human advancement without ever insulting any one group or set of beliefs in particular. It proved harder than mission impossible but I would like to believe that I’ve succeeded in the end.
The setting of the book is near and dear to my heart. I wanted the readers, whom I suspect are mostly going to be Westerners, to be able to live bits and pieces of the Lebanese culture and some of its famous landmarks.
Although my book is mainly a political thriller with a big political message, there is a Dan Brown-ish style adventure/puzzle thing going on too. All that set in a semi-dystopian Beirut run by tyrants. The book focuses on humanity and what it means to live with the political cancer that controls our lives. Does freedom of speech truly exist? Do we all live under real democracy or is it just mass delusion? One very special man finds himself on a mission to unravel his origins and instill a new order. But will he succeed?
Excerpt:
“There seems to be a malfunction in the transporter’s influx mechanism,” a tall man in a black and white uniform reported. “There is a presence on board. I think you might want to see this, master.”
The other man turned around in his seat at a control panel. He stood up and walked toward Suddeek, studying him from head to toe.
Suddeek gawked at his doppelganger, his mouth hanging low. “You’re real.”
The other Suddeek circled around him. “Alien? Shape shifter? Time traveler?”
Suddeek shook his head, still fascinated at the sight of himself in a black and white leather suit, armed and rather muscular in comparison. “I don’t know. Where am I? Who are you?”
“I’m Suddeek Hassan, master of the Gardener’s alliance. This is my ocean-space ship, the Seven Voyager. We’re in shallow waters now. Curious as I am to know how my stunt double materialized in here, I am in the middle of something. Zakariah, show this man to one of the empty quarters.”
“No wait, I don’t have time. Please, Suddeek.” Addressing himself sounded outlandish to his ears. “I’m Suddeek Hassan as well. I am on a mission myself, and I have no idea how I ended up here or why. I often have vivid visions, but it’s like they’ve been materializing.”
Zakariah approached Suddeek with a scanner. “Signals from his corporeal form indicate a different frequency, but he is human, and he does share your exact DNA, master.”
Suddeek observed the giant view screen and noticed the red rocky formations he had visited before.
A strong flashing light flushed across.
“It’s back, master,” Zakariah said. “This is our chance to get to her before Annas.”
“Sorry, Suddeek, we’ll have to catch up another time. Invisibility mode on. I’m going out,” the other Suddeek said. He transported to the exact place where Suddeek had found him the last time he walked into this surreal vision. Zakariah zoomed in on the view screen.
Suddeek watched the other version of himself get caught by someone who resembled the cardinal. Only this guy fought with a golden cane that slithered around his body like a snake, transforming into deflective energy fields and back into a firing cane. The cardinal cuffed Suddeek number two.
“Damn,” Zakariah said. “Master, she’s at the wormhole. Should I proceed?”
“No,” came the answer through the ship’s amplifiers. “Get the cardinal.”
A woman screamed in the distance. Suddeek heard her familiar words. “You will never see me again. Neither you, nor your children, nor your children’s children…”
He watched his alternate version fall to his knees. “No. Please don’t disappear again.”
Zakariah said, “Locking on to target in three, two, one. Firing now.”
The cardinal wrapped himself in his deflector shield which sent an explosion of fire back to the ship. It shook and jolted Suddeek to the side. His head slammed into the ship’s walls, knocking him out.
Author Bio:
Farah Evers is a Science Fiction writer. Her educational background is in Interior Architecture, which plays an integral role in urban development and world building. During her entire academic and professional life, Farah integrated science fiction concepts that allowed her to create unique high-tech projects, which were considered futuristic at the time. By the same token, architecture has shaped and influenced her take on science fiction. The way she thinks and sketches out her worlds begins with the fundamentals of architectural design that always bring back memories of countless overnights, sketching, conceptualizing, and drafting out perspective sketches.
Architecture wasn’t the only factor that played a major role in her understanding of life around her. Evers has a deep interest in Middle Eastern politics, anthropology, and psychology.
Her continuous struggle with weight led up to a short career as a gym trainer. Years of research in the health and nutrition field played a dramatic role in the birth of some of her science fiction concepts and ideas.
Her first published short story appeared in an anthology book, Elements of Dimension, in 2010. Two more e-short stories from the Expressions of Grace anthology collection was published via TTM: “The Feather” & “Julio Adriane”. (Of various genres) All short stories won third place in Twin Trinity Media’s writing contest. She then moved on to focusing on her career as a Science Fiction novelist. Her first novel “Demo” is a political science fiction thriller.
You might also know Farah Evers as a professional graphic designer, award winning book cover artist, digital artist, and performer (actor/singer)
Get in touch:
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6858517.Farah_Evers
Twitter: @FarahEversArts
Website: http://faraheversauthor.com
e-Mail: mailto: info@farahevers.com
Enticing Hart by Mae Hancock @GoddessFish #Giveaway
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly drawn commenter via Rafflecopter will receive a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Available from:
Hart Emile is tired of cruising for guys, living a soulless existence. He needs a change; so when an acquaintance gives him the number of the gay friendly Red Fox Ranch that’s hiring for staff, he heads south.
Oak Redman is eighteen years old and desperate to explore his awakening sexuality. The moment Hart lays eyes on the handsome young rancher he’s smitten. Not only is Oak hot, spirited and very persistent, he is also the ranch boss’s son and strictly off limits. Hart tries to fight his feelings and to respect his boss and the family who quickly become dear to him, but after Oak’s Grandma suggests he gets with Oak he can’t deny himself the most exciting and enticing man he has ever met.
Hart’s not the only man to have noticed how sweet and charming Oak Redman is. A family friend, Steve, is also anxious to have the affections of the young rancher. Can Hart work out Steve’s dark secrets before it’s too late and keep his job, his lover and his life?
Enjoy an excerpt:
The following morning, Bay took Hart into town to pick up supplies. The boss had shown a lot of hospitality to him since he’d arrived two days before, and Hart wanted to work hard and prove Bay’d made the right decision in employing him.
Dark sunglasses hid Bay’s eyes, but the look suited him. Hart guessed Bay must be about thirty-five, and then he added a few years to account for Oak’s age. The man didn’t appear gay, but none of the other cowboys on the ranch did either—not even Oak with his pretty, elfin face. Hart had always believed he could spot gay guys, but now he wasn’t so sure.
As they approached town, Bay turned the radio down. ”Understand you and Oak are planning a fishing trip next week.”
Caught off guard, Hart searched for words. “Yeah…we arranged to go huntin’ and fishing sometime. I didn’t know Oak planned on next week, but it’s fine if we can get the time off.” He cringed. He’d only been in the job five minutes, and now Bay knew he wanted time off.
“I need to make one thing clear to you before you go anywhere with my boy.”
Hart glanced at him with caution. “Okay.” He took a deep breath.
“Now, I don’t know anything about you or your sexuality, and I don’t want to know. Those things are your business. I will say this, though. My son…is not available.”
“I understand.”
“I hope you do, Hart. There are few things can make a man angry, and one of ’em’s messing with his family. Same goes for my daughter. She’s not available either.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not saying you can’t go fishin’ or nothing, and I know it’s Oak pushing me to give you time off and not the other way around, so I’m not worried about that. It’s fine if you want to be friends, but remember what I said.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.” Hart swallowed hard, feeling nauseated. He stared out of the window, having second thoughts about going because he didn’t trust himself. He’d intended to finish what Oak had started in the barn, but now? Hart didn’t want to put himself into a situation where something might go wrong—or right, as the case may be.
He’d thought about nothing but Oak since he’d first seen him on the porch, strong muscles moving with easy grace, and with each move Hart had felt the slamming in his chest. He wanted to trace each curve with his tongue and sate the urgent need to satisfy the young man. With his body as powerful and mature as his father, Oak didn’t seem like an eighteen-year old. Nevertheless, it didn’t make Hart feel any better about taking advantage.
The last thing he wanted was to see an angry Bay coming after him for messing with his son. It would be ungrateful and disrespectful to get involved with his boy. Hart had to try to think of a way to keep the two happy.
Hart loved being in Oak’s company—he was open, trusting, inquisitive, and intelligent—a real turn-on, but an obvious combination for trouble. Oak complemented Hart’s own quiet persona well. At least their friendship could continue.
He admired the actions Bay had taken to protect his kids. His own father had always been distant with him. On the other hand, at almost nineteen years old, Oak should be able to make his own mistakes. Would it be a mistake? The ranch was a workplace, and most employers discouraged relationships between employees.
“How’re you settling in?” Bay asked in a lighter tone.
About the Author:
I enjoy writing both academic and fiction material. My research interests include focus on people who experience marginalization, both in historical societies and modern. Themes include disability, neurosis, homosexuality, addiction, mental illness, slavery and prostitution. The most important part of my work is creating multi-dimensional, believable characters that are able to build lasting romantic relationships against the odds. I want all my readers to laugh, cry and enjoy the erotic journey towards a happy ending.
Website: http://www.maehancock.com/
Blog: http://maehancockfiction.blogspot.co.uk/
Twitter: @Hancockfiction
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008234531718
Buy the book at Loose-ID
#NewRelease: Valkyrie’s Vengeance @MelissaSnark #Fantasy #Kindle
A thirty-year alliance that aligned wolves and hunters has shattered.
Victoria Storm leads a few surviving members of her pack in a desperate flight. As the surviving child of their leaders, the she-wolf inherited the role of Alpha. Reeling from the violent deaths of her parents and the man she loved, she faces tough choices when the task of keeping her people safe conflicts with the demands of preserving her Norse heritage. She struggles to balance her duties as Freya’s priestess and Odin’s Valkyrie. When innocent children are abducted, she must set aside her differences and work with her worst enemy to rescue them.
Available now on Amazon
99 cents
Read an excerpt…
“Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas!”
Cowboy Santa’s recorded greeting ended on a nerve-grating crackle. The decoration fell blessedly silent once again. The large red and white inflatable St. Nicholas swayed with the force of the air blower keeping him erect.
Wincing, Victoria Storm started the mental countdown. T-minus thirty until the inflatable doll would once again bellow its holiday cheer. The constant drone of the machine’s engine grated on her nerves and hurt her sensitive werewolf hearing. But it didn’t annoy her nearly as much as the nails-on-chalkboard static.
She stood at the northwestern corner of a busy four-way light in front of a Western apparel store in downtown Albuquerque. People were out in droves taking advantage of the clear weather to do their Christmas shopping. The morning air was crisp and chilly, but the sun shone bright. Harried mothers herded rambunctious children. Women out for retail therapy moved at a more leisurely pace, chatting as they walked. Couples young and old had arms loaded down with bags and boxes. Traffic moved along at a snail-paced crawl. Vehicles navigated an obstacle course of curbside parking, stop signs and lights, and busy crosswalks.
“Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas!” Crackle.
“Should we kill it?” Teenage werewolf Jasper shot Victoria a smile and a conspiratorial wink.
“It’s just so…” Rotating her head, Victoria tried looking at it sideways. But no, doing so offered no improvement to the ascetics of the decoration.
“Ugly?” Jasper quipped.
She pressed her lips together to contain the laughter shaking her sides and struggled to inject a note of warning into her voice. “Jasper, please…”
“Hideous?”
She heaved a long-suffering sigh.
“Want me to put it out of its misery?” Grinning, Jasper took a menacing step toward the blowup doll. He hiked his hand, fingers spread to suggest a claw.
“That would be wrong, and you know it.” Victoria reprimanded him with a stern frown, unwilling to admit how tempting she found the suggestion.
A month ago, back when she had a lot more freedom and fewer responsibilities, she would’ve enjoyed a stab ‘n run. Before she became Alpha of the Storm Pack following the violent deaths of her parents at the hands of hunters. As their new leader, Victoria was now the center of the spiritual connection shared by all the members. Today, her conscience dinged her for even daring to consider it. A proper leader didn’t engage in vandalism or juvenile pranks.
“Blowup Santa dolls are wrong.”
“Jasper…” Exasperation edged her voice. Her struggle to not dissolve into giggles hurt. “I said no.”
“Huh.” As Jasper huffed, his long arms swung far and wide. He came within inches of striking one of the many pedestrians crowding the sidewalks. The woman performed a sharp swerve to avoid getting hit and shot him a nasty glare as she passed.
“But I’m bored. How much longer do we have to wait?”
Victoria ducked and slipped neatly under his waving arm. The fifteen-year-old’s hands and feet were larger than the rest of his body, making his movements awkward.
At a couple inches shy of five feet, the top of her head was even with his mid-chest. She had the muscular build of a dancer. Even though it had been years since her last formal training, she moved with the grace and precision of a ballerina.
“I don’t know for certain,” she said. “Freya didn’t provide any specifics.”
“But it has to be right here on this exact corner?” He stabbed at the ground and then flung his arm toward the opposite street corner. “Why can’t it be over there?”
She settled her hands on her hips. “What, are you four? The goddess has commanded that we wait right here, so this is where we wait.”
“But jeez, we’ve been here over an hour now.” He stared at the invisible watch on his wrist and pulled the estimate out of thin air.
“It’s been twenty minutes at most. How long we’ve been here is beside the point,” she explained. “When a goddess tells you to wait–”
“You wait.”
She nodded. “We wait.”
Jasper didn’t miss a beat. “Just what are we waiting for?”
“Freya didn’t say.”
His tongue poked between his teeth and past his lips. “Can’t you ask?”
“One does not interrogate a goddess.” Victoria frowned over his impertinence. All the while, she acknowledged her own edginess, feeling very much the hypocrite. Mentally, she extended a prayer to Freya. Goddess, what are we waiting for?
Freya’s gossamer giggle flittered through her mind. Who is the child now?
Victoria sighed and replied telepathically, Well played.
Just a little longer, my priestess. Be patient, please.
I’m trying, but Jasper’s not making it easy.
“I’m bored.” Jasper paced furiously. “I mean, like, really bored.”
Victoria bit her tongue. Through the pack bond, she felt Jasper’s impatience as if it were her own emotion. As pack mates, they shared an enduring and mystical connection. The empathic and spiritual union served as the foundation of their magic and held their social group together. It was most effective at close range. Only extreme trauma provided enough potency to unify them across great distances.
Glancing around, she resisted the desire to nag further. At twenty-four, she was nine years older than the boy, but it often felt like much more. She wondered how he’d reduced her to acting like his mother.
Her grungy appearance didn’t help her disposition. She wore her pale blonde hair back in a braid. It had been weeks since she’d indulged in luxuries like makeup or nice clothing. Hot meals were few and far between, hot showers were even rarer.
“Did Freya hint at why we’re here?” Jasper asked. “Are you a priestess or a Valkyrie?”
“Good question.” She rocked on her heels, surprised at the boy’s ability to parse the two. Her duties as Freya’s priestess and Odin’s Valkyrie often proved compatible. But the two things were far from the same. Not everyone understood that, even within her own pack.
“If you’re here as a Valkyrie, I’ll finally get to see you collect the souls of slain warriors destined for Valhalla.” Eagerness energized the boy’s voice, making it clear which option he preferred.
“It seems unlikely this will be the location of a great battle.” She cast her gaze about the bustling venue. Not a warrior in sight. “You wouldn’t be able to see the spirits of the fallen anyway.”
“How do you know who to take?” He leaned forward, a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes. Like most young men, Jasper loved stories of valor and glory, the gorier the better.
She smiled, willing to indulge him. Anything to alleviate his boredom and her own. “A Valkyrie witnesses the warrior’s death with her own two eyes. If she finds the man or woman worthy, then the soul is collected and escorted to Valhalla to serve in Odin’s army.”
“Across Bifröst.” Jasper’s eyes gleamed.
She nodded. “Yes, across the Rainbow Bridge.”
“That’s something I can’t wait to see.”
Her smile lapsed and her eyebrows knit, creasing her forehead. “Don’t be too eager. You won’t cross Bifröst until you’ve died. Goddess willing, that won’t be for a very long time.”
Jasper hauled up, crossing his arms. A mutinous scowl etched the lines of his face. “Once I die, I’ll be with my mother and father again.”
Victoria’s concern morphed into horrified realization. “Jasper, no. Your mom and dad died defending the pack. They fought so you could live. Your duty is to honor their sacrifice. To do so, you must live, grow old enough to become a man and take a mate, and have children of your own. That is how we commemorate those who have passed.”
Grief pressed upon her, an awful pressure within. She had no relief. Not even tears. Her conscience refused to permit the self-indulgence. As Alpha, she couldn’t afford to show weakness. Not while the others looked to her for strength.
Jasper stared at her in guilty silence and then averted his gaze. His mouth turned down in a pout. “I’m starving.”
“I know.” Victoria squeezed two fingers into the front pocket of her skintight jeans and fished out a crumpled twenty. Gnawing her lower lip, she stared at the last of her cash. She loathed parting with it. Especially since she couldn’t risk accessing her bank accounts or credit cards.
Not with hunters after her and her pack.
Her stomach rumbled its emptiness, a noisy reminder she hadn’t eaten in two days. As the Alpha wolf, Victoria had a duty to see to it all her pack mates ate properly and regularly, an area where she’d failed shamefully. The well-being of the pack’s youngest members took priority. Even if it meant the adults spent long nights dining on squirrels and gophers at the park.
She forked the money over to him. “Here. Take this and go get something to eat.”
He caught the bill in one greedy hand. He glanced down, and proclaimed, “Thanks!” He took off like a shot down the sidewalk. If it weren’t for the fact he was running on pavement, he’d have raised a cloud of dust in his wake.
Turning so she could follow his progress, Victoria watched him uneasily. Allowing the teenager out of her sight wasn’t an easy thing to do. It took all her self-control not to chase after him like an overprotective hen. She managed to remain outwardly calm, but a flight of moths banged around inside her gut. Still, she couldn’t treat him like a pup. Jasper was a young male werewolf intent on asserting his independence and proving himself. His testosterone exceeded his common sense by an exponential factor. At best she managed his stupider impulses and hoped he didn’t figure it out.
Being stuck out in the open, surrounded by normal humans, agitated her primal instincts. As a werewolf, she radiated a predatory aura. People shied away from her and circled to either side to avoid coming too close.
Hunters, however, were a whole nother matter. Superior numbers and resources gave them an advantage. Since they were human, they blended into crowds. She could be under observation, unaware of the danger until it was too late.
Shifting her stance, she scanned the passing faces, ever watchful. Her imagination cultivated suspicion, perceiving potential enemies everywhere. Being the hunted instead of the hunter was exhausting, and she despised it. Werewolves were top predators, not prey animals.
Freya’s voice spilled through Victoria’s mind. I’m sorry for placing you and your pack mates in the path of danger, Victoria. Please believe me. It is necessary for you to be here.
Her lips parted, and she expelled her breath. I know, Goddess. No apologies are necessary. I’m simply tired…
I am trying to locate a safe haven for your pack, but our options are limited. Perhaps if you reconsidered the possibility of taking a mate…
Victoria cringed. Two weeks ago, her lover, Daniel Barrett, was murdered right in front of her. She had failed to protect him and wasn’t able to heal his grievous injuries. His loss eviscerated her, leaving an aching hole in her chest and her life.
She gulped air. My Lady, please. I know it’d be the practical thing to do, but I can’t–not yet. Right now I can’t even think about another man.
Freya’s voice softened. I don’t mean to be insensitive or cruel.
I know that too.
In the distance, Victoria spotted Jasper’s tall, slim form as he emerged from a corner deli, carrying a white paper bag. She breathed a sigh of relief to have him back in her line of sight. As he walked toward her, she turned her head and tried to look like she wasn’t watching him.
You’re being far too obvious. More to the right, Freya advised.
Mouth twisted in a grimace, Victoria spun on her toes and almost walked through the restless spirit of a woman. An icy hand closed around her arm. Startled, she rocked on her heels and wind-milled her arms to avoid tipping over. The chill of the grave swept through her body. Gasping, she froze, staring at the distraught apparition. Without question, this was why Freya had commanded her to wait.
“The child thief has stolen my son! Help me. Please!” The woman had light brown hair and an olive-toned complexion. A white nightshirt, stained with dried blood, hung to mid-thigh above her bare legs and feet. Her appearance mirrored the condition of her body at the time of death. Dark bruises marred her face and throat, and she had defensive wounds on her hands and forearms. The side of her skull had been bashed in.
“Please, Michael is all alone. He’s so scared. I need you,” the spirit pleaded, taking advantage of Victoria’s silence.
Her gut clenched. As Valkyrie and priestess, Victoria had a duty to respond to a spirit’s call for help. As a nurse, a healer, she had a nurturing nature and rarely passed on an opportunity to render assistance to those in need. The circumstances left her questioning Freya’s wisdom, even though such thoughts were wrong. With resources so scarce and her pack’s straits so dire, she wasn’t sure she could take the risk. Living people were counting on her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I don’t think I can help you.”
“You must help me,” the woman pleaded. “No one can see or hear me.”
“Do you understand why that is?”
Approaching at a jaunty trot, Jasper skidded to a halt. His bright eyes focused on the empty spot before her, and his eyebrows rose, disappearing beneath his lank brown bangs. His tongue flickered across his lips and moistened them against the aridness of the winter air.
“What’s up?” he asked, eyes bright with curiosity. “Is a ghost here?”
“Shhh.” Victoria waved a silencing hand at him. She cast an anxious glance about, concerned their odd behavior would attract the wrong sort of attention. Neither Jasper nor any of the other humans present could see the dead woman. They lacked Victoria’s gift of spirit sight.
Fortunately, no one spared them a second glance.
Ignoring her shushing, Jasper bounced on the balls of his feet. “What does it want? C’mon, tell me what’s going on!”
Victoria stepped closer to him and dropped her voice. “It’s a woman. She says her son was kidnapped, and she needs me to help him.”
Jasper grinned. “Cool!”
“Not so much for her.” Victoria glared at him, irritated with the teen’s insensitivity. Not that she really blamed the boy for craving excitement, but their lives were already dangerous enough. They didn’t need to add to it.
“Find out what we can do for her,” Jasper urged. He had a good nature and a kind heart, but he didn’t take the dangers the pack faced into account. He failed to consider how assisting the ghost would sap their resources and expose them to discovery.
Rolling her eyes, Victoria exhaled through her nostrils so her breath formed a cloud of vapor on the brisk air. Born and raised in Arizona, she found the extreme winter temperatures of the high desert familiar. The thin air left her lightheaded.
“Come over here so we can speak privately,” Victoria said, addressing both the spirit and the boy. She shook off the ghost’s hand.
Victoria grasped Jasper’s forearm and moved out of the path of pedestrians. The fifteen-year-old stood a full head taller than her and outweighed her by a whole lot, but she moved him with ease. He lacked the stature of an adult male and deferred to her because she outranked him within their pack’s hierarchy. They sought shelter in the natural alcove provided by the Western apparel storefront.
The dead woman followed.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how I can help you,” Victoria said. “I have to protect my own people.”
The spirit moaned, low and anguished.
Jasper cut in, “Victoria, we have to help her! It’s the right thing to do.”
Victoria stifled a groan. Yep. Too much testosterone, no common sense.
The ghost mother clasped her hands together as if praying. “Please, he’s going to be eaten.”
Horrified, Victoria flinched, and her reluctance crumbled. It was better to die than dishonor her calling. “Where’s Michael at now?”
The woman opened her mouth as if to offer a ready answer, but her face froze in an expression of anguish. “I… I… don’t know. He’s close, and it’s so dark. Please, he’s so scared.”
Victoria’s nostrils flared. What was it with ghosts? Never capable of providing straight, simple answers. “I’ll need more than that to help him,” she said, swallowing her impatience. “If only you can give me some way to find him.”
“I-I don’t know.” The outline of the spirit’s body wavered.
Victoria’s sense of urgency spiked. Afraid the distressed ghost would dissipate, she softened her tone. “What’s your son’s full name?”
The woman’s flickering form steadied. “Michael,” she said. “Michael Allen Frasier.”
“Good, that’ll help me find Michael,” Victoria said. “What’s your name?”
The spirit blinked. “June,” she answered with less conviction. “June Frasier. I’m thirty-two. I’m a court reporter.”
Victoria nodded, hoping the gestures would encourage the spirit. The conversation was progressing better. The woman had volunteered more than she’d asked. “How old is Michael?”
June’s lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. She grabbed Victoria’s hand. “He’s six. Please, you have to find him. He’s all alone, and he’s so scared.”
“Okay, tell me where he is, and I’ll look for him.” Victoria glanced up and down the busy street. Her wary gaze watched to see if their odd behavior was attracting attention. Fortunately, none of the shoppers appeared to have noticed.
June’s eyes widened. She shoved a fist into her mouth and bit her knuckles. Static ran through her pattern so she flickered, indicating she might wink out at any moment.
Ghosts were displaced souls trapped between the planes of existence. Their ability to interact with the physical realm depended on many factors. Force of personality played an instrumental role, as did the trauma associated with a person’s death. Because June lacked a solid presence, Victoria suspected the only thing anchoring the mother was her love for her son.
“Where did you die?” Victoria’s sense of urgency increased with each passing second. “Is your child still near your body?”
“What do you mean? I’m not dead!” June stared at her in open horror.
“No, wait! Don’t go!” Victoria lunged, grabbing for the ghost, but her hand passed through the spirit’s arm. Within seconds, June had dissolved into a shower of gray and white sparkles.
“Damn it!” Victoria stomped her foot on the pavement.
“What happened?” Jasper asked, dancing with excitement.
“She’s gone.” Victoria ran a hand across her scalp to the base of her braid.
“Gone? Where’d she go?”
Victoria exhaled a breath she’d been holding. “I don’t know. Sometimes the soul crosses over once the person realizes they’re dead. Other times, too much stress can disrupt the ghost for a while. She might recover and come back.”
Jasper’s fists clenched. “How long will that take? We can’t wait! If her son’s been taken, he needs help right away.”
“We know their names. There are other ways of finding them.” Reaching out psychically, she sent a wave of cooling energy over Jasper, soothing his wolf.
The boy’s rigid stance relaxed somewhat, but his tone remained anxious. “Where will we start?”
Victoria opened her mouth but froze before an answer crossed her lips. Her gaze locked on the classic muscle car parked alongside the curb on the other side of the street, a few hundred feet down.
Her breath hitched. Was that…? Could it be…?
“Hey, Victoria? What’s wrong? What’re you looking at?” Jasper’s voice buzzed in her ears, increasingly insistent. The meaning of his words failed to register.
Heart in her throat, she walked north. Pedestrians passed her on either side, but she barely noticed them. Before she got close enough to read the Arizona plates below the rear bumper, she verified her suspicions. The 1970 Chevelle SS 454 convertible was red with black racing stripes and a buttery soft white leather interior. With as much time as she’d spent in the car with her lover, she’d know it anywhere.
It had belonged to Daniel.
January 24, 2015
Advance Review Copy opportunity: Valkyrie’s Vengeance by Melissa Snark
Author Melissa Snark is looking for reviewers who are willing to leave an honest review of her Urban Fantasy/Norse Folklore novella on Amazon.
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.
A thirty-year alliance that aligned wolves and hunters has shattered.
Victoria Storm leads a few surviving members of her pack in a desperate flight. As the only surviving child of their leaders, the she-wolf inherited the role of Alpha. The violent deaths of her parents and the man she loved left her devastated, and the lives of her followers depend on her decisions. Simple survival often conflicts with the demands of preserving her Norse heritage, so she must struggle to balance her duties as Freya’s priestess and Odin’s Valkyrie. When innocent children are abducted, she must set aside her differences and work with her worst enemy to rescue them.
This is a standalone novella that is part of the Loki’s Wolves series.
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