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Book Blast, Giveaway & Interview: The Vampire, The Handler, and Me by Eileen Sheehan @AuthorSheehan

 

 

The Vampire, The Handler, and Me

Eileen Sheehan

Genre: paranormal romance

Publisher: Eternal Press, LLC

Date of Publication: September 1, 2015

ISBN: 978-1629293110

ASIN: B01494XZB8

Number of pages: 202

Word Count: 100 k

Cover Artist: Dawne Dominique

Book Description:

In a romantic triangle of good and bad, it's hard to tell who is good and who is bad.

Lizzy Ewing is caught in a romantic triangle between a two enemies; the handsome vampire, Nevi, and the hunky handler, Geoffrey. A handler herself, Lizzy must choose between Nevi and Geoffrey. One wants her for all the right reasons and one doesn't.

Will she discover who is who before the bad destroys the good?

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/_uPA_tE9aU8

Amazon BN Eternal Press

“My name is Nevi, Nevi Sharpe,” he said with a deep, sultry accent. “May I ask with whom I have the pleasure of sharing scratch-off tickets?”

I wanted to answer him but I was still stuck on stupid. I opened my mouth to speak and absolutely nothing came out.

How embarrassing.

How ridiculous.

How mortifying.

He was just a man, after all. What was my issue?

I just couldn’t move past the sense of magnificence that permeated the air around him. It was both electrifying and nerve wracking.

“You have a phone call,” blurted the bland voice of Miss Congeniality as she approached my newly discovered god-man with a cordless phone.

“Please excuse me,” he murmured in my direction as he snapped the phone from the clerk’s hand, obviously unhappy to be disturbed.

“Lizzy. Lizzy Ewing,” I forced past my lips as he stood up. “My name’s Lizzy Ewing.”

I could feel flames consume my cheeks when I realized how desperate my voice must have sounded. He studied me with dancing eyes—momentarily forgetting his annoyance about the phone call.“Nice to meet you, Lizzy Ewing,” he said warmly. “Please excuse me.”

With that, he lifted the phone unceremoniously to his ear and disappeared through a doorway behind the counter. I assumed it led to his office. At the faint sound of another door shutting behind that door, I felt I assumed right.

The clerk shuffled through the array of lotto tickets spread out on the counter in front of me with a notable smirk on her broad, acne infested face before looking up at me. “That’ll be twenty-five dollars,” she stated smugly.

I stood there looking at her for a brief moment while it registered with me…I was getting stuck with the entire bill of my not so private scratch-off tryst!

 

Character Name: Lizzy Ewing

Character Bio: Born in Westchester County, NY, Lizzy Ewing grew up enjoying the luxury of travel and rubbing elbows with the elite at the local country club. The daughter of a retired chef, she went to a culinary institute only to utilize her education and talents in a small town diner as the cook and part-time waitress. Sharing the same birthday as her older, beautiful, and ever so popular sister, she suffered sibling rivalry and taunting while living in her shadow. This resulted in a bruised ego and inferiority complex. She finally came into her own around her twenty-fifth birthday when she met vampire Nevi Sharpe.

If you can add a dreamcast pic of the character that would be greatJ

Describe yourself what is your worst and vest quality?

I would have to say my best quality is my ability for compassion when others can't find the means to offer it. My worst quality would have to be my lack of confidence that I'm working on lessening but has been with me a long time so may take a while to shift.

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

I wish I could tell the world that I'm a powerhouse when it comes to hunting down vampires, werewolves and such, but that's a side of me that has to stay low profile.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

I sometimes wish I was a vampire so I could see the world through their eyes and live as long as the ones I love, yet I'm fearful of becoming one. Crazy, huh?

What are you most afraid of?

Dying before Nevi and our son, Bobby.

What do you want more than anything?

To live a good life with Nevi and Bobby and possibly have more children.

What is your relationship status?

Waiting for that marriage proposal I know is on the tip of Nevi's stubborn tongue.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

I can dress for the occasion quite nicely, but most of the time I go casual.

How much of a rebel are you?

I stand up for myself when need be but I wouldn't call myself a rebel.

What do you considered to be your greatest achievement?

Giving birth to a beautiful half- vampire boy.

What is your idea of happiness?

Being Nevi's wife and raising our son together.

What is your current state of mind?

I'm happy to have Nevi back safe and sound and to be free of Geoffrey.

What is your most treasured possession?

Bobby

What is your most marked characteristic?

My waist long hair

What is it that you most dislike?

The fact that it takes so long to wash, dry and style my thick waist long hair!

Which living person do you most despise?

Geoffrey. I regret calling 911 for him.

What is your greatest regret?

Having to be the one required to cut mys sister's head off her dead body.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

Honesty

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

The same but compassion runs a close second.

Who is your favorite hero in fiction?

That would have to be Van Helsing. I love vampires who are lovers but not vampires who are evil and viscous so you go Van Helsing!

Which living person do you most admire?

Nevi. Since he's half human and vampires aren't the hollow chested creatures story tellers make them out to be, but very much alive, he's definitely the one I admire the most. He's compassionate, worldly, wise, rich, handsome and really sexy.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

I'd get my psychic abilities under control.

What is your motto?

Listen to your heart, not your head.

 

 

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Eileen Sheehan lives in her native upstate New York where she enjoys the beauty of the New York Countryside.

When she is not sitting at the computer creating a new fantasy, she can be found helping her clients through her holistic business as Lena Sheehan a.k.a. Psychic Lena.

She takes advantage of her experiences, wisdom and knowledge of the paranormal and often finds ways to insert them into her writings.

http://www.sheehan-author.info

https://twitter.com/AuthorSheehan

https://www.facebook.com/sheehan.author

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14219489.Eileen_Sheehan

Book Blast: Halloween: Henry, Saddara and the Neighborhood by Juli Draney

 

 

Halloween: Henry, Saddara and the Neighborhood

Juli Draney

Genre: Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, Halloween

Date of Publication: October 2012

Word Count: 9,868

Cover Artist: Mark Garcia

Book Description:

Looking for another fun Halloween story to add to your repertoire? "Halloween: Henry, Saddara and the Neighborhood" is a fictional chapter book for children of all ages! The story depicts the colorful scenes of a legendary Halloween night through the eyes of Henry, a rugged, but sophisticated black cat. The story takes the reader to the quaint town of Greenwood. Henry enjoys his human family and the sights in the town on Halloween, but ventures out into the foothills to his favorite place, the haunted Hostetler mansion.

Henry experiences many supernatural events on his adventure to the old mansion near the woods, including interactions with and sightings of witches, werewolves, musical vampires, ghosts, goblins, and zombies. Henry has a dear friend who inhabits the Hostetler mansion, the ghost of a little girl named Saddara. Saddara's touching story is told in this tale and receives a powerful resolution. Henry somehow escapes this incredible adventure with his life, a scarred ear and wise lessons to impart.

“Halloween: Henry, Saddara and the Neighborhood” is Halloween fun with beauty and wisdom brewed in!

This book is also a Rock Opera Dance Musical!

Available at Amazon

Excerpt from “Meet Henry”

“Do you take one lump of sugar or two? Or seven?” asked little Saddara. Then she erupted into a high pitched giggle.

“I’ll take seven sugars and I would like a mouse on the side,” I answered as we both laughed and sighed. Our pretend tea parties in the rose garden of the old mansion were delightful!

“Well, I guess it’s time for me to go now,” said Saddara. “I don’t know when mother and father and the boys will be here, but I will wait. I am sure they are coming!” With a pet on my head, she would fade away back into her bedroom. I would then make my way home through the lovely, wooded foothills. Those were fun times I had with Saddara. I’ll tell you all about her later on.

I’m Henry, the beloved cat of the Rodriguez-Haskell family. I’m a black cat and a Tom. That and my scruffy, torn ear add to my irresistible charm. I live in the quaint town of Greenwood, named for its beautiful, green foothills. I’m a mix of ruffian and spoiled house cat (though I hate to admit the latter). I’ve garnered quite a bit of street smarts from my nightly cat adventures. I know every back alley and criminal joint in Greenwood, as well as the swanky, uptown parts. My family allows me to roam at night wherever I please, thanks to the cat door they installed. It’s nice to have my true nature recognized. We cats are complex characters, just like humans. I can enjoy a Shakespearean sonnet as well as dumpster diving for a delicious, discarded meal. By the way, you humans should try scavenging more. You’re missing out on all the fun!

I certainly didn’t receive my scruffy, torn ear from a human. I got it from a zombie in an epic battle on a legendary Halloween night. Halloween is my very favorite night of the year as it’s a night when my irresistible charms seem to frighten people out of their mind. If you have more time, I’ll share with you the story of one of the most incredible nights of my life - a night when my fierce scrappiness and sharp intellect were fully used. I must say, I’ve had many such nights. After all, I’m a cat.

Excerpt from “Vampires”

I saw something black lift up from the ground in the cemetery, like a hinged door. Then another one just like it opened a small distance away, still in the cemetery, then several more. They all seemed to open and close in unison. Open-slam-open-slam-open-slam-open-slam! They looked like coffins! I saw a cloaked, human-looking figure emerge from one, then another. These figures all seemed to be men in black cloaks, rising and moving rather calmly and gracefully in the moonlit fog of the night. Vampires.

The total count was eight. They were quietly walking and walking, slowly, without expression around the beautiful garden veranda near the cemetery and the front lawn of the mansion. They had shiny, groomed black hair that glistened in the moonlight, and a pale hue to their skin in cool tones. Some had white streaks blazing through their black hair. Their garments were impeccably beautiful. They wore woolen, pin-striped suits, with the finest tailoring I had ever seen. Long black capes draped from their necks around suit vests and slacks. They wore red roses on their lapels. Their shoes shone in the night like their hair.

After a bit of their calm pacing, I saw one go back to his coffin and produce a chair, then of all things, a beautiful cello and bow.

Excerpt from “The Return”

Exhausted, I walked over right in front of the guitar god zombie, still playing his guitar ferociously. I could still hear the howls of the werewolves and the cackle of the witches in the forest. Catrina and the vampires had fused their music with the zombies forming a type of Halloween heavy metal, funk tango dirge which was truly exhilarating. This was musical fusion as I had never heard before! It was like a rock concert in heaven and hell at the same time. The haunting yet extremely alive music, the cackling, the howling…it all climaxed into a great musical sound that seemed to summon the very sky and enter beyond time. It was totally overwhelming and reached an almost unbearable level of exhilaration. Then, suddenly it all stopped - dead silent. The vampires ceased their playing and dancing. Catrina and her partner stopped mid-turn.

 

Juli is a freelance musician, piano teacher and author living in Boise, Idaho. She has accompanied professional dance for many years. She was inspired to write her book in order to compose a Halloween ballet, which turned into a “Rock Opera Dance Musical”. She enjoys teaching, performing, writing, composing, and hanging with her daughter and two dachshunds.

https://www.facebook.com/Halloween.HenrySaddaraandtheNeighborhood

https://www.facebook.com/juli.draney

Book Blast: The Challenge by Kim Iverson Headlee @KimHeadlee

BOOK INFORMATION TITLE – The Challenge SERIES – The Dragon's Dove Chronicles AUTHOR – Kim Iverson Headlee GENRE – Historical Fantasy w/Romantic Elements PUBLICATION DATE – 7/14/2015 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 24 pages/6K words PUBLISHER – Pendragon Cove Press COVER ARTIST – Natasha Brown BOOK SYNOPSIS   The gauntlet is thrown. One must die. Refusal is not an option. Arthur the High King of Breatein has fallen captive of a longtime enemy, the Saxon warrior-princess Camilla, who lusts to avenge the death of her betrothed at Gyan’s hands and will stop at nothing, even the black arts, to achieve her goal. Because Gyan and Arthur have grown estranged, she fears that Arthur may side with Camilla and make her his new queen. To meet Camilla’s challenge, Gyan must face all her demons—public as well as private. BUY & TBR LINKS WORLDWIDE AMAZON KINDLE LINK $0.99 or Free on Kindle Unlimited GOODREADS EXCERPT  

With a shudder Gyan recalled the rumor that Camilla had enlisted demonic aid… She banished those thoughts, and their attendant fears, by pondering the irony that Camilla had tried to strike at her through Arthur. It might have worked, once. The passion that had colored the early years of their marriage was still celebrated in song throughout Breatein and Caledon. These days, she wasn’t singing.

GRAPHIC ARTWORK – © 2015 by Wendy Carey AUTHOR BIO   Kim Headlee lives on a farm in southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, goats, Great Pyrenees goat guards, and assorted wildlife. People and creatures come and go, but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins—the latter having been occupied as recently as the mid-twentieth century—seem to be sticking around for a while yet. Kim is a Seattle native and a direct descendant of twentieth-century Russian nobility. Her grandmother was a childhood friend of the doomed Grand Duchess Anastasia, and the romantic yet tragic story of how Lydia escaped Communist Russia with the aid of her American husband will most certainly one day fuel one of Kim’s novels. Another novel in the queue will involve her husband’s ancestor, the seventh-century proto-Viking king of the Swedish colony in Russia. For the time being, however, Kim has plenty of work to do in creating her projected 8-book Arthurian series, The Dragon’s Dove Chronicles, and other novels clamoring for attention. She has been a published novelist since 1999, beginning with the original editions of Dawnflight (Sonnet Books, Simon & Schuster, ISBN 0671020412) and Liberty (writing as Kimberly Iverson, HQN Books, Harlequin, ISBN 0373771347). AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS ABOUT.ME PAGE AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AUTHORGRAPH AUTHOR PAGE WEBSITE FACEBOOK Street Team “Kim’s All-Stars” TWITTER GOOGLE+ PINTEREST LINKEDIN BLOG TRIBERR PROFILE ARTHURVERSE TRIBERR TRIBE GOODREADS YOUTUBE CHANNEL NEWSLETTER - mailto: info@dawnflight.com Subject Line: Subscription Request This event has been organized and hosted by

Book Blast & Interview: Season Of The Witch by L.J.K. Oliva @writermama

 

Season Of The Witch

Shades Below

Book 1.5

L.J.K. Oliva

Genre: urban fantasy/paranormal romance

Date of Publication: Oct. 1, 2015

Word Count: 99,733

Cover Artist: Amy Mateyka

Book Description:

Something wicked this way comes...well, more wicked than usual.

Georgia Clare needs help, and fast. As the lone survivor of—and witness to—her coven's brutal massacre, she's felt the killer hunting her. There's just one problem: the rest of San Francisco's witching community wants nothing to do with her, and the one man she can turn to doesn't do witches.

Darius deCompostela has done his best to steer clear of subversive affairs. A private investigator and reluctant medium, the last thing he wants is to advertise his existence to the things that go bump in the night. But then Georgia knocks on his door, and try as he might, he can't turn her away.

It's just one case, after all. It's not like it's going to change his life…

Add it on Goodreads

It was her third night in a row of frozen pasta for dinner. Not that she was counting.

Georgia popped the top off yet another bottle of Corona and took a long draw. She leaned back against the counter. The microwave hummed behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at the digital clock on the unused stove. Sighed.

Nearly six o'clock, and still no sign of deCompostela. The pang of disappointment in her chest chafed at her pride. She should have known better than to believe he would stop by. He'd already made it abundantly clear he thought she was out of her mind.

Truth be told, the possibility had occurred to her. It had been a week since the new moon, and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of...it. Whatever it was. If not for the lingering scent of blood in her nostrils, she could almost believe she'd hallucinated the whole thing.

The microwave beeped. Georgia took one last drag of beer, then set her bottle down next to the two that had preceded it and opened the door. Fragrant steam rushed out; a heady blend of tomato, basil, and MSG.

Georgia reached in and grabbed the microwaveable plastic bowl, hissed and yanked her hand back again. She scanned the kitchen for something she could use as a potholder. Finally, she settled on a bunched-up paper towel.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she pulled out the pasta bowl. Georgia tensed, turned...

...Just in time to see her living room window explode inward in a hail of glass. She let out a startled shriek. A massive, dark creature suddenly occupied the space where her coffee table used to sit.

Everything else seemed to happen in slow-motion. The creature straightened, shaking shards of glass off its dull black fur. Its ears twitched towards her. Its lips peeled back from its razor-sharp teeth.

Georgia's chest seized. Recognition slammed through her. The creature snarled. Any lingering doubts she'd been harboring instantly evaporated.

It was here.

Georgia blindly hurled her steaming pasta bowl in the direction of the living room and bolted from the kitchen. She looked over in time to see it connect with a loud splat squarely between the intruder's eyes. The creature howled and clawed desperately at its face.

Georgia didn't wait for it to recover. Her altar. If she could just get to her altar, she could banish the ugly fucker and buy herself some time.

The creature was planted in the dead center of the straightest path across the living room. Georgia veered wide. She had almost cleared the front door when it flew open in a barrage of splinters. Someone barreled into her. They both sprawled to the ground.

The new intruder landed on top. Georgia hissed, bucked, clawed at anything she could reach. Her mystery assailant scrambled off her.

"Jesus Christ, would you calm down, you crazy—what the f*ck?"

deCompostela. Georgia didn't let herself pause to feel relief. She rolled to her feet, grabbed his hand and dragged him after her. They dove behind her sagging couch just as the creature regained its bearings. It threw back its head and let out a roar that shook her remaining windows.

Darius sniffed. "Is that tomato sauce?"

Georgia didn't answer. Her focus was squarely on her altar again. It was still too far away. "Wait here."

"What—"

She leaped to her feet. The creature's eyes locked on her. Georgia swallowed the terror that welled in her chest and sprinted for the altar. She skidded to the floor in front of it like a baseball player sliding into home, yanked open one of the drawers and fumbled for the first items that came to mind.

The creature roared again. A blast of superheated air hit the back of her neck. Georgia braced for the feel of teeth around her throat.

"Right here, ugly!"

She turned in time to see Darius' massive fist catch the creature square in the nose. The creature yelped, then retaliated with a swipe of an even-more-massive paw. The blow swept Darius clear off his feet. He flew backwards and hit the wall with a dull crunch, then sagged to the ground with a wheeze. Flecks of paint and drywall fluttered to the floor around him.

But he'd bought her the time she needed. Georgia held up her black candle and flicked her Bic lighter to life. She touched the flame to the wick. The creature's eyes widened.

"Black, the color of protection. Black, the color of night."

The creature snarled. Darius heaved himself to his feet and surged forward. He wrapped his arms around the creature's hind legs and held tight.

"Black, the color of silence. Black, the color of stillness."

The creature swiped at Darius again. Its paw caught empty air where his head had been just seconds earlier. It tried to move. Darius' arms visibly tightened. Muscles bunched under his suit jacket.

"With black I banish thee. With will I banish thee." Georgia poured intent into her words. Her voice grew heavier, fuller. "Return to the night. Return to the silence. Return to the stillness. Be gone from this place."

The creature let out a strange yelp-hiss as invisible forces compelled it to obey. Darius released it and scrambled backwards.

Georgia lifted her chin. Magic crackled through her veins, tinged her vision black. "Be gone from this place," she repeated. "With black and with will, by my power and by the power of the Lady, I banish thee. So mote it be." She blew out the candle.

The creature vanished in a swirl of acrid black smoke. Its final, infuriated roar echoed through the small apartment.

Georgia finally allowed herself to breathe again. For the first time, she realized she was coated in a fine film of glass and wood slivers. She reached up to dust herself off, at the last minute thought better of it.

Instead, she turned to Darius. He had hauled himself onto her sad excuse of a sofa. His hands were planted on his knees. He stared at the spot where the creature had last stood.

Georgia crossed her arms and cleared her throat. She waited until he looked up at her, then arched an eyebrow. "So. Do you believe me now?"

 

Did you always wanted to be a writer? If not what did you want to be?

While I've always enjoyed writing, I never expected to be a writer. When I was younger, it was just something I did to amuse myself and the select few friends I allowed to read my work. I probably should have seen it coming, though, because I really didn't have any other career aspirations. I knew I wanted to do something where I wouldn't get bored, where I could let my geek flag fly and live an interesting life, but I had no idea what that might be.

Do you do another job except for writing and can you tell us more about it?

In addition to writing, I'm also a stay-at-home mom to a young son. Believe me, that's a job.

What is the name of your latest book, and if you had to summarize it in less than 20 words what would you say?

My latest book is the first companion novel in my urban fantasy series, Shades Below, and is called Season Of The Witch. In 20 words or less: a desperate witch approaches a private investigator/reluctant medium for help investigating her coven's murder. Hijinks and sexy times ensue.

Who is your publisher? Or do you self-publish?

I self-publish (go, indies!).

How long does it usually take you to write a book, from the original idea to finishing writing it?

It depends on the book. For the most part, I've whittled my complete turnaround down to about 5 months, however, Season Of The Witch ended up taking about 8. For one thing, it was twice as long as anything I've ever written before. Also, the story took a turn I wasn't expecting about halfway through the book, so I had to completely recalibrate. I think the end result was totally worth it, but it made things a little stressful at the time.

What can we expect from you in the future? ie More books of the same genre? Books of a different genre?

I'll be continuing with my Shades Below series well into the foreseeable future. I'm introducing new characters, new monsters, and new twists, as well as revisiting the characters from Book 1 (A World Apart), Lena and MacMillian. I'm really excited for where things are headed!

What genre would you place your books into?

These books are in solid urban fantasy territory, but they do have a streak of paranormal romance running through them as well. ;-)

What made you decide to write that genre of book?

My favorite books over the last few years have overwhelmingly been urban fantasy. I've also grown really passionate about mythology, monster lore, and various religious traditions. I find the stories we've told ourselves throughout our history incredibly fascinating, and bits and pieces of them definitely show up in my books.

Do you have a favorite character from your books? And why are they your favorite?

That's a bit like asking a parent who their favorite child is, but if I had to choose, my favorite character is probably Jesper MacMillian. He's a transfemoral amputee (translation: his right leg has been amputated above the knee), and he's trying to relearn how to live his life. At the same time, he has been thrust into a leadership position in his community that he doesn't want and isn't prepared for.

Also, he handles the subversive world the way I would like to think I would: with healthy skepticism, but also a realistic acceptance that the world is a big and strange place, and it's perfectly conceivable that he might not know everything that goes on in it.

Do you have a certain routine you have for writing? ie You listen to music, sit in a certain chair?

With a four-year-old running around, I don't really have the luxury of a set routine. I make coffee (pretty much my only non-negotiable habit), plant my butt where I can see if my son's about to knock over the TV, then try like hell not to get too distracted by the Internet.

Do you read all the reviews of your book/books?

I do. I know everyone says you're not supposed to, but I TOTALLY DO. My books don't have a whole lot of reviews yet, so it's not too ridiculous (or so I tell myself). I never respond - even to say thanks - but I love hearing what people think of my books.

I'm convinced reading my reviews has also improved my writing. I've gleaned some great insights about my strengths and weaknesses as a writer by paying attention to what people say about my work. Plus, hearing directly from readers just what they liked (and didn't like!) about my books helps me craft books that people are likely to find appealing in the future. It's like my own little form of market research.

Do you choose a title first, or write the book then choose the title?

I usually choose a title first. Full disclosure: I already have the entire Shades Below series titled, mapped, and plotted. I'm crazy like that.

Do you decide on character traits (ie shy, quiet, tomboy girl) before writing the whole book or as you go along?

While I would love to think I have that much control over my characters, truthfully, I don't really decide anything. The voices in my head pretty much drive the bus, and I run along behind, cleaning things up as we go.

Which format of book do you prefer, eBook, hardback, or paperback?

Depends on what I want the book for. I love eBooks for my pleasure-reading material; I can take an almost unlimited number of books with me wherever I go. For research material, however, nothing beats curling up in one of my office armchairs with a good hardback.

What is your favorite book and Why? Have you read it more than once?

Ooo, that's such a mean question, haha! I definitely don't have just one favorite book. My recent favorites are Karen Marie Moning's Fever series, Stacia Kane's Downside Ghosts series, and Uprooted, by Naomi Novik. I cycle between them constantly.

Do you think books transfer to movies well? Which is you favorite/worst book to movie transfer?

I think it depends on the book. If a book is very visual and fast-paced with a linear plotline, I think transfers can totally work. It seems like the books that don't transfer well are books that take place mostly inside the characters' thoughts. It can be the most brilliant book in the world, but you can't have a movie where the actors just stand around thinking at each other for 67-or-so minutes.

Favorite book-to-movie transfer? The Lord of the Rings series, hands-down. While they left a lot out of the movie that was in the books, the end result ended up being very true to the overall tone of the books, and the characters and storyline just sparkled.

Least favorite? Exodus: Gods and Kings. Seriously. What even the f*ck.

Your favorite food is?

Chilled shrimp cocktail, served with a good, spicy horseradish cocktail sauce and a squeeze of lemon. I could eat that stuff for DAYS.

Your favorite singer/group is?

IMPOSSIBLE QUESTION! In general terms, I love classic rock, indie rock, mullet rock, and the blues.

Your favorite color is?

Blood red.

Your favorite Author is?

It's a tie between Karen Marie Moning and Stacia Kane.

 

 

 

L.J.K. Oliva is the devil-may-care alter-ego of noir romance novelist Laura Oliva. She likes her whiskey strong, her chocolate dark, and her steak bloody. L.J.K. likes monsters… and knows the darkest ones don’t live in closets.

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Book Blast, Giveaway & Interview: Bash by Candace Blevins CandaceBlevins

 

Bash, Volume I

Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club

Book Three

Candace Blevins

Genre: Motorcycle Club,

Paranormal Romance, BDSM

Publisher: Excessica

Date of Publication: October 16, 2015

Number of pages: 425

Word Count: 63,000

Cover Artist: Syneca Featherstone

Book Description:

What do you get when you mix a bad-ass werewolf biker with a beautiful she-wolf who grew up as the MC President’s daughter?

Sparks.

Book one of the Bash trilogy…

Angelica was raised not only as a biker’s daughter, but as Bud’s daughter — the president of the Atlanta RTMC, which meant she also had dozens of ‘uncles’ who made sure she was safe, happy, loved, secure.

Needless to say, her virginity was still solidly intact when she left for college.

She goes to school up north, where no one knows she’s a biker’s daughter at heart, and thoroughly enjoys her time as a civilian. She gets rid of her pesky virginity right away, but is mostly a good girl while she buckles down to get her degree, staying at school even during the summers to take as many classes as she can fit in.

She’s a different person when she comes home with her Master’s degree, and in spite of her intention to remain a civilian, some of the bikers don’t seem so much like uncles, anymore.

Warning: Lots of hot sex, a touch of BDSM, and an abundance of bad-ass werewolf bikers who are used to getting their way.

This is book one of a three book story. There’s a tiny cliffhanger at the end, but only three weeks until book two releases.

Chapter Two

Eight years ago

Angelica

Kayla met me in the bathroom after last period, and watched as I changed out of my super tiny mini-skirt into jeans. God, if my dad saw me in this skirt he’d have an aneurism.

“I can’t believe you lost Brain. God, Ang, he’s the best biker-bitch you’ve had yet.”

Speaking of aneurisms, my dad nearly had one when he found out Kayla called me Ang. He calls me Angel, but says no one else is allowed to shorten my name. One of the reasons I love Kayla is she isn’t afraid of my dad, or any of the other bikers, and she just kept calling me what she wanted.

I shrugged as I buttoned my jeans and stowed the skirt in my backpack. “I got one of the new guys, I’ve only met him a couple of times. He looks like he’s pissed at the world, and I seriously doubt he’s going to be any fucking help at all with my calculus or chemistry homework.”

“He have a cool name?” she asked as we left the bathroom.

“Bash, and best I can tell, it isn’t ‘cause he’s bashful. And damn, the boy is beautiful.” And he’d be so fucking pissed if he knew I’d called him a boy.

“How you gonna break him in?”

I shook my head. “Haven’t decided. He’s actually kinda scary, even for one of my dad’s men. Also, I don’t think he’s that much older than us. I know when he first came, he couldn’t have even the prospect patch yet, ’cause he wasn’t old enough. They treated him like one, which had to suck, but he didn’t get his first patch until a few weeks ago, so I think he just turned eighteen.”

“You know his story?”

I shook my head. “He has a fucked up accent though. He isn’t from around here.”

Kayla showed the assistant principal the note from her mom saying she could ride home with me, and he waved us to the RTMC vehicle waiting in the car line.

I got into the front passenger seat and settled my backpack at my feet as I put my seatbelt on and told him, “Bash, meet Kayla. She’s my BFF and you’re her ride now, too. Not just mine.”

He breathed deep, and I assumed he’d just realized she’s human and not wolf, and I added, “We have a problem, you take care of her first, then me. I can handle myself a few minutes, but she isn’t a fighter. Get me?”

He pulled forward and glanced in his rear view mirror at Kayla before looking forward again. “My orders are to keep you safe, Princess.”

I sighed and leaned my head back, looking at the road instead of him. “Those are your orders from my dad. Thing is, I can make your life a living hell if I want, or I can help make this a cushy assignment until you get your patch. I’ve grown up in the club, I know the drill. When Kayla and I became best friends in the fourth grade, our dads had a talk. Their agreement was she’d come to the house, but never to the club, and there’d be no parties at our house when she’s over. She hasn’t been around ya’ll much at all. Her parents have met my prospect chauffeurs over the years, and they’re mostly chilled about it now, but they’ll need to meet you sometime this week.”

“Basically,” Kayla said from the backseat, “you’re our bitch now. You’re our ride when we need one, and you go get stuff we need, even if it’s tampons at two in the morning. You’ll carry our packages for us when we go shopping at the mall, and if we ask if our ass looks fat when we try on clothes, you’ll be honest and tell it to us straight from a guy’s perspective.”

“And not,” I added, my voice low and deep, “from my father’s viewpoint.” I held my wolf in, so I didn’t growl at him in front of Kayla. “I know you’re supposed to cock-block us, but I also know you can’t actually hurt any of the guys.” He held his hand up, thinking he could silence me, and I said, “Fuck you, asshole. I’ll talk when I fuckin’ want to.”

He pulled into a church parking lot, put the SUV into park, tossed his cellphone into the little compartment in the dash, and got out.

Bash might only be eighteen, but he wasn’t a boy. He paced like a caged animal and I realized he was on the edge. This wasn’t a wolf thing, though — it was something else. He moved with a lethal, fluid grace that set something inside me on fire, and I didn’t get out of the vehicle, knowing he’d smell it on me.

I’d had a crush on my prospect when I was twelve, and my dad had given me someone else and then hadn’t assigned anyone else who was my type, since. Brain had truly been like a big brother to me. I mean, I knew he was dangerous, all the men of the RTMC are, but to me, they mean safety. I’m their little sister, the president’s daughter, and they’ll all protect me with their life.

I instinctively knew Bash didn’t necessarily represent safety for me, though.

With his back to me, he said, “Out of the car, Princess. You and I need to have a talk without your friend hearing.”

My insides shook from the threat of violence in his voice, and I didn’t want to get out of the car. I reminded myself he couldn’t hurt me without risking my dad’s wrath, and felt my body chilling out. I couldn’t go outside smelling of fear — he’d eat me alive.

I heard him with my wolf hearing, but Kayla wouldn’t have a clue he’d spoken. I sighed and told her, “Stay here a sec. Maybe we pushed him too hard? I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“He’s kind of scary, Ang.”

“My dad wouldn’t have assigned someone who’d hurt us, Kayla. I’ll just go talk to him a second. It’ll be okay.”

As I got out of the car, I suddenly wasn’t so sure my dad wouldn’t have upped his game with my prospects. He and my mom had a huge argument last week, but she convinced him it was time he let me start double-dating with an early curfew. She’d successfully argued they had to let me take baby-steps and learn responsibility slowly, or I’d go wild when I went off to college without him around to supervise my every move. He’d finally agreed to it, but only if my prospect tagged along. It was more than I’d hoped for, but at the time I’d thought it’d be Brain.

As I got out, Bash said, “Leave your cellphone — and anything else with a battery — in the car.”

This was standard RTMC procedure when we wanted to make sure we weren’t recorded. Apparently, he was gonna say stuff my dad wouldn’t approve of. I tossed my phone onto the dashboard, turned the radio up a little, and told Kayla, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I followed him off the parking lot pavement into grass, assuring myself all the while that my dad wouldn’t have sent someone likely to hurt me. Still, Bash was harsher than the other guys my dad had assigned me, and I needed to be careful with my strategy. As soon as I caught up to him, he said, “Here’s the way it’s gonna be, Princess. I may not be able to bash any of your boy-toys’ heads in with witnesses around, but that don’t mean I can’t do it later. You want ‘em to live? You make sure they stay on my good side. Nobody disrespects someone in the RTMC, not even a prospect.” His voice deepened, and I heard his wolf. “Second thing, is you may be under RTMC protection, but you’re a split tail, and that means you do what you’re told. You want me to show you respect? You show it to me. I’ll throw your words right back at ya — we can either get along, or not. I don’t give a flying fuck which you choose, Princess. You think you can make my life hell? You have no idea what I can do to yours.”

Yeah, this I could work with. I gave him a half smile and shrugged one shoulder. “Take a deep breath, Bash. You smell any fear comin’ off me?”

He took a whiff, shook his head, his eyes suddenly a touch uncertain.

“My dad stopped assigning me guys I could walk all over when I was about eight. He’s miscalculated a few times, though he quickly gave me someone new once he figured it out. So, I can’t boss you around — okay, I get it.” I offered my hand. “Truce?”

He shook his head. “No, Princess. No truce just yet. Let’s give it a couple of days, see where we stand then.”

 

Character Name: Bash

Character Bio: Sargent at Arms of the Chattanooga chapter of the Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club.

Why did you become a biker?

Because it’s what I am. Who I am. Sometimes the family you were born into isn’t your real family, but life goes on. As soon as I met my brothers, I knew they were my brothers.

How much of a rebel are you?

Is rebel the right word? Most people call us outlaws, but really we just have our own laws. A hundred years ago it was acceptable to beat the shit out of someone you saw hit a woman, and you could shoot a man who stole your horse. The law says you can’t shoot someone for stealing your car or your bike now, and it’s apparently never okay to beat someone up anymore. Why is that?

What is your biggest secret, something no one knows about?

I’m answering your questions because my President says we gotta work with the press to help out our big charity drive, but you can’t ask me bullshit questions, doll.

What is your relationship status? Can you answer that?

I don’t do relationships, but if you’re free later I wouldn’t mind taking you for a ride.

What’s your real name?

Bash, darlin’. My real name is Bash. I have a different legal name, but that isn’t relevant.

How did you get your nickname?

‘Cause I’m so bashful.

You have to be one of the least bashful people I’ve ever met. No offense intended.

None taken, doll. We have a huge giant of a man named Tiny, too.

You know what the rumors are, right? That it’s because you bash people’s heads in?

I’ve heard the rumors.

So, you’re saying the rumors aren’t true?

I’m sayin’ I’ve heard the rumors.

What are you most afraid of?

Why don’t you stop asking the questions on your cute little tablet and come up with some real questions, darlin’.

I thought your president told you to answer my questions?

He didn’t say I had to answer the stupid ones, mostly because there’s nothing he could do to make me answer bullshit questions.

You don’t have to do what he says?

We function as a democracy, doll. The club votes on important stuff, the president just leads the meetings. We usually do as he asks on the small stuff, but if we don’t want to, we tell him our reasoning and then work it out for the good of the club.

How can the public help with your charity drive?

We have two projects going right now. We’re working with Bevering Construction to build a few handicap accessible houses for returning veterans, and folks who want to help are welcome to contribute funds or volunteer their time to help build the houses. We’re also restocking the local Women and Children’s Shelters with toys and art supplies, and I believe Duke gave you the list of participating stores where you can purchase the items and donate at the same time. We’re accepting donations at our restaurant, too, and you get twenty-five percent off your bill if you donate a newly purchased item.

I have the picture here — of you on your bike — to run with the article. You have to know our readers are going to want to know more about you, personally. I don’t want to get accused of asking bullshit questions again, so what will you answer? What will you tell us about yourself?

I’m a mechanic. I take bikes apart and put them back together so they run better. I also enjoy restoring classic cars to their former glory. I like to ride my bike, and the offer still stands to take you for a ride later, doll.

Let’s stick to the interview, for now. I note your boots, jeans, and leather vest, as well as all the big rings on your fingers. How would you describe your sense of fashion?

Sense of fashion? You’re back to the questions on your tablet, aren’t you? I ride a bike. I’m in an MC. I dress so the pavement has the least chance of eating my skin if I take a spill.

Thanks for answering most of my questions.

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Candace Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world. She lives with her husband of 17 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming.

Candace writes BDSM Romance, Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, and is currently writing a kick-ass Motorcycle Club series.

Her Safeword Series gives us characters who happen to have some extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work. Each book in the Safeword series highlights a couple with a different BDSM issue to resolve.

Her urban fantasy series, Only Human, gives us a world where weredragons, werewolves, werelions, three different species of vampires, as well as a variety of other mythological beings exist.

Candace's two paranormal romance series, The Chattanooga Supernaturals and The Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, are both sister series to the Only Human series, and give some secondary characters their happily ever after.

You can visit Candace on the web at candaceblevins.com and feel free to friend her on Facebook at facebook.com/candacesblevins and Goodreads at goodreads.com/CandaceBlevins.

You can also join facebook.com/groups/CandacesKinksters to get sneak peeks into what she's writing now, images that inspire her, and the occasional juicy blurb.

Stay up to date on Candace’s newest releases, and get exclusive excerpts by joining her mailing list!

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Book Blast: Time For Eternity by Susan Squires @susansquires

BOOK INFORMATION TITLE – Time For Eternity SERIES – The DaVinci Time Travel Series, Book 1 AUTHOR – Susan Squires GENRE – Regency Paranormal Romance PUBLICATION DATE – October 27th, 2015 LENGTH  – 384 pages PUBLISHER – Independent COVER ARTIST – Rebecca Poole, Dreams2Media BOOK SYNOPSIS Desire and destiny collide in this novel—first in a stunning new series—from New York Times Bestselling author Susan Squires. Tempted by Fate Once, Frankie Suchet loved Henri Foucault—and it cost her everything. For two centuries, she has cursed the French duke who gave her his blood and then disappeared forever. Today, this sexy vampire is a bartender living in San Francisco. And Frankie has been granted the chance to go back in time…to kill the man who made her what she is. But becoming “Françoise” again means losing all memory of the risk Henri poses to her future…and her heart.  Seduced by Danger France, 1794. The Reign of Terror is in full swing. From the first, Henri is an enigma, saving Françoise from an angry Parisian mob. Drawn to his seductive vitality, Françoise discovers there is much more to him than she once knew. Henri’s devotion to rescuing innocents from the guillotine is his sole passion—until he encounters Françoise’s intoxicating blend of innocence and experience. And as their attraction explodes into dangerous desire, the only way to save each other may be to sacrifice their timeless love… “Superb writing…and intricate characterization make each novel by Ms. Squires and absolute winner.”    —Romantic Times BOOKreviews BUY & TBR LINKS AMAZON KINDLE US AMAZON KINDLE CA AMAZON KINDLE UKiTUNES EXCERPT

She drifted closer to the edge of the crowd, drawn by him. She must harden her heart to match his, and commit a sin in the eyes of God and man. He would lose a few months of living. She would live again. “What have we here?” he murmured. She heard him clearly with the vampire hearing he had bequeathed her. The curve of his lip was all insouciant condescension. He strolled forward, surveying the mob. “Monsieur, surely you will help us!” Frankie turned at the sound of her own voice. She gasped. There she stood, the she who had been, Françoise Suchet, not Frankie, her face a mask of innocence in distress, a gendarme holding each elbow. It was a face Frankie still saw in the mirror each day, streaked with soot her blond hair glowed copper in the red light of the flames licking out the windows above her. Frankie knew intellectually she hadn’t changed with all the years, but to know this face was not a mirror image but one that lived two hundred years ago shook her sanity. Françoise strained toward Henri in supplication. Foolish girl. The last thing she needed was Henri Foucault. That way lay vampirism. Then the young Françoise stilled. Her head turned slowly. Her eyes locked with Frankie’s and widened. Frankie couldn’t get her breath. Françoise seemed to grow nearer, even as the crowd behind her receded. Frankie dropped her bag, gasping, and bent over, grabbing her belly against the pain there. This was bad. Really bad. She should never have met herself. She felt like she was breaking up. A shriek escaped her. All thoes time travel books were right, she thought. And then she was hurtling toward Françoise. She felt herself disintegrating into a mist. Then nothing.

AUTHOR BIO Susan Squires is a New York Times bestselling author known for breaking the rules of romance writing. Whatever her time period, or subject, some element of the paranormal always creeps in. She has won multiple contests for published novels and reviewer's choice awards. Publisher's Weekly named Body Electric one of the year’s most influential mass market books and One with the Shadows a Best book of the Year. Time for Eternity, the first in the DaVinci time travel series, received a starred review from Publisher's Weekly. Susan has a Masters in English literature from UCLA and once toiled as an executive for a Fortune 500 company. Now she lives at the beach in Southern California with her husband, Harry, a writer of supernatural thrillers, and two very active Belgian Sheepdogs, who like to help her write by putting their chins on the keyboarddddddddddddddddddddddd. AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS WEBSITE FACEBOOK TWITTER GOODREADS AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE MAILING LIST This Event Was Organized & Hosted By:

Book Blast, Giveaway & Interview: Dead of Night by Carlyle Labuschagne @CarlyleL

 

 

Dead of Night

The Aftershock Series

Book One

Carlyle Labuschagne

Genre: YA Dystopian

Publisher: Fire Quill Publishing

Date of Publication: September 21, 2015

ISBN: 978-0-9946536-9-7

Number of pages: 236

Word Count: 72 000

Cover Artist: Sandra Valente

Book Description:

In a dark and desolated After Earth, love still does exist, but the cost of bearing such a flaw is death.World War III has left Earth in utter turmoil. People’s beliefs are said to be the cause of the worldwide destruction. After The Clearing new laws are set about – to show certitude in anything besides the law is weak and chargeable as mutiny. To be illogical and have faith in religion is illegal, to be limitless is dangerous. And Illness is seen as a defect – all flaws that are inexcusable.

But to love is the greatest betrayal of all man kind. It is a fault the world has long forgotten and punishable by death, a fatal risk Aecker and Opel are fully prepared to take – because in love there is freedom. But how far can they push back before it claims their lives and of those they care about?

CHAPTER ONE

HEART ON FIRE

HIS VOICE ECHOES THROUGHOUT THE VAST room. It’s a voice I feel I could know, one that is as familiar to me as his handsome face. When he moves, the bunk’s springs squeak like a little rodent that is desperate to scurry away. I don’t mean to stare—but those soft gorgeous lips and strong jaw, the warm smile that brings sparkle to his honey-colored eyes, carries forth a loud voice in my head, telling me this boy can be trusted.

Lingering beneath his gentle stare I can see something else, the embers of concern. They drown out the spark in his stare as he waits for my answer.

Why would he show me this consideration? I don’t know who this beautiful stranger is.

I look around, realizing that I don’t even know who I am. Or, if the blue cotton uniform I am wearing is even mine. I glance back down at the green tin cup I hold in my hands, and the sweet and salty aroma of corn soup fills my nostrils.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice is calm, but the quickening thump of his pulse and the tight set in his jaw relays something else entirely.

He inches closer, beads of sweat darkening his dusty blond hair, giving away the secret he is trying so hard to hide. He is upset. Nervous. Maybe both.

Is he withholding something?

Unknowingly, my head tilts to the side, trying to figure out what happened to me, and who this perfect stranger might be. And why I think I might know him. The stabbing sensation in my head throbs with each breath I take, making it hard for me to think clearly. I feel wrapped up in a thick fog, and just beyond it lives some useable memory.

From across the room, I stare at dirty clothes disregarded near the burn shoot. They reek of vomit and old blood. Staring at the clothes, I can immediately tell they belong to a female. The material is new, stretchy, and cut for a slim, short figure. Quickly glancing down at my body, I assume they could be mine―those clothes most definitely hold clues as to who I really am.

My familiar stranger sits across from me on the bunk bed, his body turned slightly toward mine. My hand creeps up to my head wound, making me wince at the feel of the raw, painful flesh. At my obvious discomfort, he immediately moves closer, his breath warm and sweet as he leans in. His gentle fingers lift the hair from my forehead as he inspects the injury. “We need to get you to a doctor.” His voice comes out shaky, uncertainty tainting his beautiful tone.

“No.” I jerk away. The dregs of my warm soup spill over the rim of the cup, splashing onto my raw fingers and wrists.

He watches me carefully as I stare forcefully into his eyes. His hand suddenly moves away and then I feel it―pain. I pull back farther, even though I crave his touch.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, moving one seat over, his back resting on the gray, concrete wall beside the bunk.

“It hurts,” I say, confused as to what hurts more, the wound or the fact that I have no idea what is going on. “How long have I been out?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “Not more than two days.”

I sigh at his answer, one that comes from somewhere deep and mournful inside me. As the feeling of loss wraps around me, it’s like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter until I can’t breathe anymore. I close my eyes, attempting to block out whatever memory is making me feel so utterly terrified.

“It’s okay. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

I shake my head. “It’s not that.”

But, I must ask myself, who is ‘he’? Who is this brutal attacker I do not even remember?

Standing slowly, I place the soup cup on the wooden bench situated beside the metal-framed bed. As he looks up at me, I feel the sudden need to run far and fast and never look back.

“Thank you for your hospitality, but I-I must go.” I stumble over my words.

Moving too quickly, my head meets with the source of light above me. The light ebbs out for a second, and I pull in a sharp breath as pain shoots through me once again. Suddenly, I am terrified of the dark and feel myself reaching out for him. His forearm is soft, warm, strong, and alluring all at the same time. The fear that makes my pulse race alters slightly. I suddenly fear being trapped by an emotion I do not understand. Ruled by a feeling that is strong and fatal. I lose control of my thoughts.

He chuckles. “Where are you going to go in this storm?”

The light flickers back on. I look up as it continues to sway back and forth above us, searching the room for something, anything, yet I’m not sure what it might be. A feeling of anxiety washes over me. It’s so intense it spreads and enters my chest, as if a bald eagle has flown down to take my heart on gilded wings. The feeling to run tugs at me again. But when I look down, I notice I’m still gripping his arm. Instinct tells me that what I’m doing is wrong, that I should never be so close to a human.

“Sorry,” I apologize. When I release his forearm the golden color immediately returns to his flesh.

“It’s okay.” He smiles, invitingly. “Quite a grip you have there.” He keeps the grin, shaking out his hand as if I have stopped the blood from flowing through his veins.

I look away. “I can’t stay,” I announce, staring at the glimmer of light bouncing off the silver armlet wrapped tightly around my wrist―that shine, that glow, the entire piece is trying to remind me of something.

As he moves, the light brings out the blond streaks in his hair, and his shirt pulls tight around muscular pecks as he crosses his arms over his chest. He grins mockingly, and ever so slightly his feet shift toward me.

Nevertheless, I am aware of every single move he makes, like the way his eyelashes touch the top of his cheeks when he blinks, and how the corners of his eyes crease with the revelation of his gorgeous smile. His impeccable chest moves slowly as he breathes. His eyes hover on my face, making me shift uncomfortably. I don’t like the way he looks at me, it’s wrong. But I don’t know why I feel this way. All I know is that I don’t want to feel weak.

“What?” I ask sheepishly, suddenly feeling as if my dark, blue pantsuit has become transparent. Heat rushes to my face―an unexpected and unpleasant moment.

“You’ve been stalking me for weeks, and that’s all you have to say? You’re not even going to ask me my name? Or thank me for saving your life?”

It’s like an anchor falls, dropping me back to the depths of the uneven mattress. The squeak fades away as shock kicks me in the gut and allows me only one long, shuddering breath.

“I-I,” I falter. I have no recollection of my assault, or anything else that came before.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he whispers, his charming voice now peppered with unease. “It’s me, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?” Sitting down, he keeps his distance, as if making sure that I do not feel I am prey to his predator.

“I’m not sure…I know anything.” My brows furrow, as my fingers tremble over the soft skin of my lips. The frigid cold forms goose bumps on my skin as I stare into the thick, dark, naked concrete walls of the bunker. I am just that. I am colorless and empty. I have no present. And the past has vanished. I am back in that tunnel in the dead of night, with no sense of anything other than the blackness and the loneliness reaching out for me, attempting to make my soul crumble into dust.

“I don’t remember,” I finally admit, the words bitter and brief on my tongue.

I wait for a while in the silence of the moment, hoping my inner animosity will dissolve, and that the fear will leave me alone so I can figure things out. What thought might trigger a memory?

Gingerly, he grabs my hand and turns it, flattening my palm against his hard chest. “Aecker. My name is Aecker. You don’t remember me at all?”

I shake my head.

His eyes are gentle, digging up unsettled feelings within me. But he is not really sad or bothered by my sudden memory loss. In fact, he seems almost relieved.

I stare at his long fingers as they wrap around my tiny wrist. The contrast between his tanned skin and my pale hand is strikingly beautiful. But the shiny, silver bracelet that takes up most of my forearm is what bothers me. I wish I knew what it meant. I feel my pulse ticking beneath his fingers, sense the beating of his heart through my palm. It’s slow and steady at first, but as time passes and as the silence mounts, the heat of our touch grows into a black hole, sucking me in to his endless gravity. I feel attached to him, as if my hand is melting right into his chest. I want to grab hold of his human heart and become one with it. I wish to wrap my hand around it and try to translate the language that’s making it move. We are suddenly tethered to each other in ways I cannot begin to fathom.

With my gaze shamefully glued to his chest, his heart rate increases. Strangely, this effect rubs off on me and I can feel the beat of my own heart increase to match his, causing a perfect symmetry between us. In slow motion, I watch his Adam’s apple move up and then down as he swallows nervously. My eyes affix to his luminous, ochre gems as they grow wider―the darkness of his pupils swallowing up the magic of his irises.

Abruptly, it all disappears, and I am aware of another presence in the room. Jerking my hand away, the feeling I now own is awkwardness, almost as if I have somehow been caught trespassing.

“Aecker, what are you doing?” a deep voice calls out.

“I can explain.” Aecker stands, the bed springs moaning at the release of his weight.

I stare up at yet another beautiful man, with similar eyes and square jaw. He places a device on the center table, and then his gaze falls on me. This tall man’s eyes widen.

“What happened?” He moves closer, lifting my hair from my face, his other hand―fingers unbelievably icy―grips my chin, raising my face to the light.

“I couldn’t leave her…” Aecker begins.

“Who did this to you?” the man asks, sitting me down beside him, allowing the creaks and groans of the mattress to once again spring to life.

“She has no idea,” Aecker replies. It’s almost like his words filter right through me, and I feel like I am falling into a downward spiral, face first, swirling into the void where the forgotten stray.

It’s all sitting wrong with me; my sudden memory loss, and the fact that this boy known as Aecker called me a stalker. But the most disturbing, are the feelings I just experienced between him and me. It felt sinful, but I couldn’t stop myself. So perhaps it was just as well the stranger interrupted when he did, or who knows what would have happened.

The tall man stands, clears his throat and asks me my name. From the corner of my eye, I see Aecker shaking his head.

“Do you have a name? Or shall I just call you ‘girl’?”

“No, sir.” I shake my head, too.

“Sir?” His head jerks in Aecker’s direction then back to me, as a look of confusion appears in his eyes. He takes a few steps back, like I’m infected with some horrific disease that he will do anything to protect himself from. “Do you remember anything at all?”

I continue to shake my head as if I were made of nothing but wires and conduits―something completely mechanical that is unable to think or feel, just follow orders.

“She must be a City Dweller.” His words are said with distaste, sounding like he wants nothing more than to spit on the floor at the mere thought of something as hideous as me infiltrating his life.

When he notices the bracelet around my wrist, his shoulders slump dramatically. Closing his eyes and pressing his long, dark lashes against tanned skin, he looks as if he is trying desperately to hold back something, yet impatience appears in his voice.

“She’s a Tracker. She must leave right now,” he states with finality, making me feel like I have successfully drowned in that black void where my forgotten memories live, where I will be washed away and swallowed up, never to be seen again.

“She does not look anything like a Tracker!” Aecker’s words are defensive.

“There are whispers of the new generation.”

“It doesn’t matter, Dyllian!” Aecker says passionately, moving closer and pushing the older boy away so that he is now standing between us.

“You know it does. You have to get rid of her. If they find her, if Cupola even catches one scent of this intruder and your involvement with her, you will be killed and I can’t do anything to stop it. Trackers bring nothing but death. You know that!”

Aecker moves even closer to me, his hands come to rest on my shoulders as he stares into my eyes. “She’s nothing like them.”

“What is a Tracker?” My thoughts are finally voiced.

Dyllian steps back, resting an elbow against the wall. With the other hand, he pulls out a dirty old rag and wipes his face. “Trackers are soldiers, spies, assassins. They are here to kill any Inborns and infiltrate their hideouts. To bring violent death to Believers and make examples of their flaws.”

“Believers of what?” I interrupt again.

Dyllian’s eyes pin mine so strongly, I feel like a deer staring down an eager hunter’s arrow.

“Of anything.”

Aecker notices my distress, and I grip my hands together so they don’t see me shaking. Fear is a weakness.

“Like I said,” Aecker strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers, “You are not one of them.”

Despite his tender eyes holding mine, trying to offer comfort, his words still burn a hole through my chest. A deep and intense heat causes my heart to beat erratically, because I realize that he is looking at me like I am his only possession; his to protect until his very last breath. And this time, I don’t mind the way it makes me feel.

As Dyllian turns to study me, something alerts my brain that my small, dark world is about to be buried by this revelation, and the flicker of hope I saw in Aecker’s eyes just moments ago is about to be extinguished. I know why my heart feels as if it is on fire; I want to be his hope, but I don’t know how I possibly can be. If I am a Tracker, it will mean the death of something that is being born between us. I might not know who or what I am, but I know unequivocally that I don’t want to live without the promise of a future and a life beaming in Aecker’s eyes.

I like the way it makes me feel.

Character Name: Aecker Halt

Character Bio:

Aecker Halt is nineteen years old with dark blonde hair, beautiful lips and hazel brown eyes. He is one of

three kids, Aurora being his twin sister who died in the bombings before the war. Dyllian is his older brother who holds status as General in the rebellion colony. Parents are said to have died during the rebellion split off from The Gate after WWIII.

Aecker has a special gift no one is aware of, he has a 6th sense for technological devices. When near technology his taste and feel senses are highlighted, and he can call out what device they are dealing with just by the strange taste or feel that comes over him.

Hobbies include, reading accrual books, collecting and hiding actual books. Takes care of orphaned wildlife.

Skills; hand to hand combat, hunting war strategy.

Dreamcast:

who has starred in productions like TV Series G lee has the right look, and certainly can pull off the attitude of Aecker. Id have Chord play male lead in this action packed dystopian novel where Aecker gives up his entire future for a girl he barely knows. And then hunter for his choices when it is dicoverd he has fallen in love with the enemy.

Describe yourself what is your worst and best quality?

Best qualities, he never gives up! Spirited and strong willed. Passionate and intense.

Worst – he never gives up! Might be a tad too rebellious and makes rash decisions.

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

Wow that’s a really tough question I think everyone who has followed me during this amazing journey knows how passionate and big hearted I am.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

LOL. Well there are none of those kinds of secrets I keep. I don’t like to keep secrets, they break me down. But I can share this quirk – I can only park my car from the right hand side :D

What are you most afraid of?

Violence. I am scared of dying a violent death or for those around me to be exposed to violence. It’s such a terrible thought that it keeps me up most nights. Unfortunately living in South Africa Johannesburg that threat is a very real thing, a threat that is a reality that can come down on anyone at any time. But I won’t let that crush my spirit, I still believe in my country and see all the beauty it still holds.

What do you want more than anything?

To know that my children will have a splendid live filled with endless possibilities and perhaps traveling the world and experiencing everything, well not everything that would be impossible given one life time, but that I could explore with my family.

What is your relationship status?

I am married to my high school sweetheart.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

Oh I looooooove fashion and am totally addicted to beautiful trends. I find it liberating and part of my ‘colorful’ personality. It’s empowering to look good.

How much of a rebel are you?

Total, okay well total would be overkill as that would mean I rebel for the sake of being a rebel. I just like being different but not to the extent that it means sacrificing my dignity. I fifth for what I love and believe in and am not afraid to make a statement.

What do you considered to be your greatest achievement?

My life as it stands now. I have done and seen things I never thought I would ever, but believed I would be great, do great things and live with greatness and so far I have, and in doing things that seemed only to be a dream is an achievement for me. I have tried and tested and grown in more ways that I ever thought possible. I have lived :D

What is your idea of happiness?

How I feel inside. To be happy with me and what I give others and bring to others – if it’s something I don’t regret and feel good about – that is happiness.

What is your current state of mind?

HAPPY AND CONFIDENT.

What is your most treasured possession?

Besides my laptop – my family! So you know – family comes first then my laptop and my pool – I love my pool!!! I would die if I were not able to swim.

What is your most marked characteristic?

Big hearted. That’s what I have heard anyway.

What is it that you, most dislike?

Lying. Lying and pollution. I can’t stand pollution, it’s a rotten poison… don’t get me started we might end up not leaving here today…..

Which living person do you, most despise?

None! I lie – our government. They can do just what they want, steal, lie, cheat amongst other things and get away with it too.

What is your greatest regret?

Not exercising enough. But that can still change.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

Strong willed and honorable.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

Independence and sophistication.

Who is your favorite hero in fiction?

Edward from Twilight

Which living person do you most admire?

My mother, she’s hardworking and gives so much for everyone else.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

Sleep less!

What is your motto?

Let love give you wings, don’t be crippled by fear.

 

 

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Calyle is an South African award wining author, with a flair for mixing genres and adding loads of drama to every story she creates. For now she is happy to take over the world and convert non Sci-fi believers.

Her goal as an author is to touch people's lives, and help others love their differences and one another by delivering strong messages of faith, love and hope within every outrageous world she writes about.

"I love to swim, fight for the trees, and am a food lover who is driven by my passion for life. I dream that one day my stories will change the lives of countless teenagers and have them obsess over the world literacy can offer them instead of worrying about fitting in. Never sacrifice who you are, its in the dark times that the light comes to life."

Carlyle used writing as a healing tool and that is why she started her very own writers support event - SAIR bookfestival.

"To be a helping hand for those who strive to become full times writers, editors, bloggers, readers and cover artists – it’s a crazy world out there you dont have to go it alone!"

https://www.facebook.com/Carlyle-Labuschagne-189835811074342

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Book Blast & Giveaway: Everything Anise by Natalie-Nicole Bates @BatesNatalie

BOOK INFORMATION TITLE – Everything Anise AUTHOR – Natalie-Nicole Bates GENRE – LGBT Paranormal Romance PUBLICATION DATE – October 7 2015 LENGTH – 16,200 words PUBLISHER – Torquere Press BOOK SYNOPSIS A Victorian-era vampire living in the modern world, Emigh Bennett’s favorite activity is watching people from the window of her little bookshop. When she spots a woman nearly killed on the street outside her shop, she rushes to her rescue, and she meets Anise. The proprietress of a little home business called “Everything Anise”, Anise crafts one of a kind perfumes all with a touch of her namesake spice, all with the power to intoxicate and delight the senses. She is smart, sexy, beautiful, and happens to be a little bit different. Although Anise is everything Emigh could ever ask for and more, she can’t quite figure her out. Anise possesses the duality of an innocent angel and a vivacious vixen. Even if Emigh can ever peel away the multi layers of Anise to uncover the truth beneath, what will happen when she finally reveals the truth about herself? BUY & TBR LINKS AMAZON KINDLE US AMAZON KINDLE CA AMAZON KINDLE UK SMASHWORDS GOODREADS EXCERPT For the first time in…hell, it must be years, Emigh’s life felt bright and vibrant. Meeting Anise was the dawning of a new day. The lift she needed for so long. She dared to pick up the phone that first night and call Anise. To hear that special kind of something in her voice as they spoke. To talk about everything and anything…well, not everything. She didn’t broach the subject of her sexuality – well, maybe not hers, she knew that, but Anise’s. As a matter of fact, Anise spoke of neither male nor female friends. Anise spoke of her passion for crafting corsets and perfume. She loved to bake. She was estranged from her family. They didn’t understand she didn’t want to work a boring nine-to-five job, train into the city, train home again at night, exhausted. They thought she was wasting her life away, and because she wouldn’t come around to their strict way of thinking and living, she walked away from them. Emigh admired her spunk and dedication. Smart, sweet, articulate, and she made her laugh, which was a tough thing to do. Anise was definitely a rare breed of woman. But how long could it last? She couldn’t tell Anise she was a vampire, let alone that she would never die. Vampire. How she hated the word! But until someone came up with something new, she was stuck with it. Of course, Anise would never believe her. No one did. Every once in a while, some beautiful woman would come along, and their connection would be instantaneous…sizzling. Emigh would find herself whispering the truth to her beloved. Inevitably, the not-so-twin-flame would beat a hasty retreat, believing Emigh was crazy, or a liar…or both. Crazy and liar are never good things in a relationship. AUTHOR BIO Natalie-Nicole Bates is a book reviewer and author. Her passions in life include books and hockey along with Victorian and Edwardian era photography and antique poison bottles. Natalie contributes her uncharacteristic love of hockey to being born in Russia. She currently resides in the UK where she is working on her next book and adding to her collection of 19th century post-mortem photos. AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS GOODREADS TSU FACEBOOK FAN GROUP TWITTER FACEBOOK BLOG STREET TEAM SIGN UP AMAZON AUTHOR CENTRAL PAGE GIVEAWAY PRIZE $10 Amazon gift card a Rafflecopter giveaway This Event Was Organized & Hosted By: Special Thank You To Carly's Book Reviews For The HTML Creation

Book Blast & Giveaway: She’s Got it All by Jewel Quinlan @JewelQuinlan

BOOK INFORMATION TITLE – She’s Got it All AUTHOR – Jewel Quinlan GENRE – Contemporary/New Adult Romance COVER ARTIST – Darlene Dixon w/Wicked Smart Design BOOK SYNOPSIS She’s living her dream, not knowing she’s stolen someone else’s… For Kayla Cross, getting a job as a DJ at legendary club Grace in Ibiza is a dream come true. It’s what she has worked for her entire life. Even if she had to do it behind her parents’ back, like a dirty secret—then and now. She left everything behind in order to give it her all, and she finds it’s going to take far more than the level of confidence she has in order to pull it off. Lex Granger thought the job was his. But it wasn’t. And not getting the DJ job means another season of bartending, and watching longingly as others play on stage. When his boss orders him to make Kayla feel at home, he almost rebels. But his need to pay bills wins over his emotions. He resents his competition but can’t help being affected by her sunny disposition, talent, and long, lean form. Walking the line between admiration and envy can be agony... VIDEO TRAILER Join the Facebook Release Day Party on October 24, 2015 BUY & TBR LINKS AMAZON KINDLE US KOBO EXCERPT Kayla had seamlessly taken control of the sound system a few minutes ago and the stuff she had been playing was good, better than the typical pre-recorded shit. But what caught his attention now was the sound of her voice. She was singing into the mic on her headset. Not lyrics but a beautiful stream of notes that seemed to flutter from her gut up to her vocal cords in a lilting sound that was captivating.The notes she sang rose and fell, exotic and mysterious with the intriguing underlying beat. Her voice called, it drew…and soon women rose from their seats to the small dance area to move and sway with the music, and the men followed them. The same people who had been oblivious of the music a moment before as they’d smoked and talked were now giving their full attention to Kayla. It wasn’t just the music that mesmerized them; it was Kayla herself. She was a vision. Her blonde hair gleamed under the lights, and her shoulders and hips writhed in a sexy dance, and all the while she continued to turn knobs and flip switches to make the music she sang to. She was absorbed in it and having a great time. Sometimes her hair flicked when she gyrated, as if in punctuation to her movements. Combined with the sound of her voice, she was like a beacon—the song of an angel caressing and drawing everyone in. It was like nothing he’d ever heard before. “Hola!” said a man in an aggressive tone, waving a one hundred Euro bill. “Can we get ten shots of Patrón?” “Of course. Right away, friend.” Lex focused back in on his job. It was awhile before he could come back up for air. But when he did, he noticed that the space was packed with bodies dancing to the music Kayla played. And, although she was keeping it mellow as instructed, it was the biggest crowd he’d ever seen on the terrace during the day. Security continuously went through, trying to keep key paths clear. Hands holding cell phones were up in the air, outstretched toward her, as they took pictures and videos. Through it all, she wore the brightest smile he’d ever seen, occasionally lifting one hand to press the earphones closer. She changed the tempo to a faster beat and the crowd responded with cheers. She bounced up and down in joy, hand waving above her head with exhilaration, and the people lifted and pumped their fists in mimicry. She was every bit as good as any DJ they’d had before and more. She was the embodiment of everything he thought he would have experienced and felt had it been him on the stage. Somehow, she caught him watching, and gave him a cheery wave. Embarrassed, he waved awkwardly back, and then pulled his eyes back down to the bar. And, even though he could acknowledge that Rick had been right, that she was good, he couldn’t help feeling the tiny nugget of palpable distaste lodged deep in his chest. AUTHOR BIO Chelsea O'Neal lives in her fantasy world where people can fly, vampires could be real, money is never an issue and the romantic meeting of your true love is a normal happening. When not relaxing in Chelsea-ville, she enjoys talking with animals who talk back and taking long walks with her prince charming. Actually Chelsea lives in the United States in Nebraska, where she was born and raised, with her black lab Daisey, who hasn't spoken actual words to her but she is pretty sure Daisey understands her. She is yet to meet her prince charming, though she is quite sure he is out there. Chelsea enjoys working as a youth librarian. She is an avid reader and writing has always been her passion. Chelsea has written 3 novels and a novella, she is working on her next book now. AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE WEBSITE / BLOG FACEBOOK TWITTER PINTEREST TUMBLR GOODREADS INSTAGRAM GIVEAWAY PRIZE $20 Amazon Gift Card a Rafflecopter giveaway This Event Was Organized & Hosted By: Special Thank You To Carly's Book Reviews For The HTML Creation

Book Blast & Interview: Mortal Magick by Patty Taylor @pattyt444

 

 

Mortal Magick

Highlander Magick Series

Book One

Patty Taylor

Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy/

Time Travel Romance

Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing

Date of Publication: June 8, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-61935-834-8

ASIN: B00ZAJ8GL6

Number of pages:176 pages

Word Count: 57K

Cover Artist: Syneca Featherstone

Book Description:

When an immortal Highlander falls in love with a human witch, “Mortal Magick” soon casts a spell of its own.

Doomed for eternity to wander nights as half man and half creature, rugged Highlander, Duncan McCord, discovers his curse is the least of his problems when he sets out for a cure and rescues the beauty determined to help tame his beast.

When a reluctant witch, Keara, gets whisked back to 18th century mystical Isle of Skye to learn lessons in magic, she faces the true test of love when she meets the man beyond her wildest dreams burdened with dark secrets from his past.

Forced together to journey through an enchanted country filled with mythical creatures and magical lore, will they survive in a world where evil sorcery reigns, or will a shocking twist of fate tear them centuries apart?

Available at Amazon

 

Trotternish ∙ Isle of Skye, Scotland ∙ October 7, 1797

Duncan McCord wanted a woman. His entire body and soul hungered for a special lass’ touch. The one destined for his love, whom he would call kindred spirit. His stomach tightened, a pain ripping through him like the slice of a broadsword. This canna happen. Not now, not ever. Reality hastily slapped him back to his senses. He vowed never to be foolish enough to let himself fall into another vixen’s treacherous traps.

Dark, threatening clouds rolled over Scotland’s glorious mountain peaks in the distance. The muscles in his legs rippled, gripping both sides of his mount. His stallion, Goliath, snorted and stopped short in his tracks. His enormous hooves stomped the hard ground.

“Aye, ‘tis all right, me friend. Just a bad storm startin’ to brew. What a grand spot to rest for the night.” Duncan bent down and stroked the neck of the black steed then swung his leg over and jumped to the ground, beginning to remove both gear and saddle.

Goliath neighed, his breath white in the cold air.

A gust of frigid air swept around Duncan’s feet, spiraling its way beneath his woolen plaid. Leaves rustled from the biting breeze as they whispered danger through the towering pines.

Goliath snorted again and reared his mighty head.

The sweet scent of honeysuckle filled Duncan’s flaring nostrils and jabbed his memory. The pleasing fragrance was soon replaced with the putrid smell of dead worms and rotten leaves. Clenching his fists, his knuckles cracked. Short hairs bristled on the back of his neck. Wicked laughter echoed through the Highland hills.

A woman’s teasing, silky voice sparked his memory, whispering poison in his ears.

“Your journey is for naught, my beloved Duncan. I see you’re still stubborn as always. Your horse seems to have more common sense than you.”

The snicker became a cackle. Invisible fingers like fuzzy feathers tickled his whiskers, making his face twitch.

“I see ye still didna have the guts to face me, ye bloody she-devil. Afraid ye might finally get what ye rightfully deserve?” Stone-faced, he shouted into empty space. “I promise, witch. Ye won’t be laughin’ for verra much longer.”

“Careful, my spirited lover. You don’t want to wake the inner beast before sunset.

***

“Duncan lunged from the damp forest floor. His splayed hooves clip-clopped on top of a boulder. His nostrils flared from the irresistible lingering lavender scent. He cocked his head to the side, his keen hearing caught her every breath as each step she took brought her dangerously closer. “Aye, the damn fool-headed woman! She’s done wandered off again.”

He snarled at a shooting star plummeting to the ground. Like a bubbling cauldron of fire, it spit an outburst of flames across the moonlit sky. “Aye, the bonny wee lass is headed straight for a trap.” Clenching his fists, he veered back his head and wailed.”

 

Character Name: Duncan McCord

Character Bio: Doomed for eternity to wander nights as half man and half creature, rugged Highlander Duncan McCord discovers his curse is the least of his problems when he sets out for a cure and rescues the beauty determined to help tame his beast.

 

Duncan agreed to sit still just long enough so I could get this interview for Karen, today, but unfortunately, he quickly escaped and dodged my camera. The only available photo I have of him, is the one on my cover - as you can see, he’s definitely quite the handsome Highlander, which also makes it hard to concentrate on doing the interview

Describe yourself what is your worst and best quality?

My worst quality is my temper. I would have to say my best qualities are my loyalty and love for my family.

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

I’ll do anything to protect my family and loved ones.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

I try to keep me nightly beast appearance a hidden mystery to humans. The few that have seen me, shuddered and made great haste to escape my hideous presence.

What are you most afraid of?

Living alone for eternity and not finding my kindred spirit.

What do you want more than anything?

To end this immortality beast nightmare, and go back to my clan. I need to reclaim my rightful title, and protect my people.

What is your relationship status?

I fear that when ye turn into a nasty beasty at night, ‘tis not much choice when it comes to relationships. Right now I have me hands full tryin’ to protect a lovely young lass, named Keara. That woman’s not only stubborn, but a witch from the future. I fear there can nevr’ be a relationship between us, even if she has found a way into me heart and soul.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

My leather boots and plaid, or kilt as you call it, are the only clothes I need.

How much of a rebel are you?

I’d be the first one to lead me men into battle, if it meant protectin’ our clan.

What do you considered to be your greatest achievement?

If I can keep Keara safe and help find her a way home to her own century, that will be my greatest achievement. Even if it means losing my true soulmate, her wellbeing and happiness are my biggest concerns right now.

What is your idea of happiness?

Finding a cure and my kindred spirit to spend the rest of my life with.

What is your current state of mind?

I’m furious at myself for allowing a weak moment with an enticing woman, to change my entire life.

What is your most treasured possession?

My steed, Goliath, of course. He’s a grand stallion. I consider him a friend and companion more than a possession.

What is your most marked characteristic?

I would hope people would see me as a good man with worthy values.

What is it that you, most dislike?

Me good friend, Darby, tells me I have a short fuse when it comes to havin’ any patience when people dawdle and put things off instead of getting things done. I believe in getting a job done right and in a timely manner.

Which living person do you, most despise?

Gabrielle of course. I’m afraid Patty has asked me to refrain from sharin’ too much about this this wicked witch. So for now, I suggest if you want to find out what “really” happened, you’ll need to read the story.

What is your greatest regret?

Not being able to protect my family and missing the opportunity of watching my nephew, young Colin, grow up.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

To be willin’ to stand up and protect your family and fight for what ye believe in.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

To have confidence in herself, and not be afraid to show her true feelings when she’s with the man that she loves.

Who is your favorite hero in fiction?

Robin Hood, although I beg to differ that Sir Robin was no more a fictional character than meself.

Which living person do you most admire?

Me father and grandfathers before me were proud and heroic men that protected their clan and village.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

Ending this beasty curse and showing Keara the true person I am.

What is your motto?

Don’t judge a person by their appearance.

 

 

Patty was raised as a “country girl”, and fell in love with animals, books and the mystical world of magick from a wee girl. With her mother’s heritage, born and raised in Northern Ireland, along with the discovery of her father having American Indian ancestry, Patty’s fascination for both cultures quickly led her imagination to run wild.

Her love of The Chronicles of Narnia Series, from C.S. Lewis inspired her to start creating magical realms and characters of her own.

Patty’s dream to work with white wolves didn’t become a reality, but she considers herself blessed to have been “owned and loved” by a pack of beloved Samoyeds for over 20 years.

In her spare time, Patty can be found sitting beside one of her favorite spinning wheels, blending exotic fibers while her imagination weaves more stories. While she cherishes fond memories of both her parents, thanks to her beloved Irish Mom, Patty’s belief in the little people and fairies still carries on.

Website: http://www.pattytaylorauthor.com/

Blog: http://www.pattytaylorauthor.com/blog/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PattyTaylorAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/pattyt444

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25699278-mortal-magick