Sarah Cass's Blog: Sarah's StoryLines, page 35

Meet Stefan Liston from Odyssey by Alexandra Anthony

What is your story?

I am a 975-year-old vampire from Scandinavia.  Turned into an immortal after being mortally wounded, my psychic ability survived the change…only now I can only see the futures of other vampires.  On a quest to find my fated mate after a vision I had of her, I scoured the earth for nearly 200 years to find her.

Who are you? 

My given name was Steafedn Hlífsteinn.  Over the years, I chose to make my name more modern.  I now go under the name Stefan Lifsten.

Do you think the author portrayed you accurately?

I think Alexandra did an exceptional job in portraying my inner thoughts…and desires.

What makes you happy?

Finding Josephine after 200 years of searching for her.  It is a long time to look for your other half.

What are you afraid of?

I am afraid of little; however, I worry about the safety of Josephine above all else.

What in your past had the most profound effect on you?

Turning my maker over to the Council for her misdeeds.  My part brought upon her final death.  There is still a part of my that mourns her and second guesses my choice that day.

Name five items in your purse, briefcase, or pockets.

Cell phone, wallet, receipts, keys…and a krona.

What is more important – sex or intimacy? Why?

Before I met Josephine, I would have said sex.  Prior to finding her, females served two purposes.  Since I set my mate, sex and intimacy are one in the same.

What trait do you find most admirable, and how often do you find it?

Honesty.  And I find it very little in immortals or humans.

How do your friends see you?

A protector.  It is my job to keep my friends and family safe.

How do your enemies see you?

*Grins* A threat.

*~*~*~*

Odyssey (The Vampire Destiny Series Companion Book 1)

| Amazon | BN | Smashwords |

Book Blurb

In this first Companion Piece to The Vampire Destiny Series, we follow our hero, Stefan Lifsten, from the time of his human death, through his early years as a vampire until he meets Josephine Anderson, his fated mate.

We’ll travel along with him during his initial struggles to accept his immortality, his betrayals by friends and foes, and experience his joy of meeting the woman from his vision…experiencing Fated and Illusion through his eyes.

This book is a Companion to The Vampire Destiny Series and will feature missing scenes and character information. While this book can be read as a stand-alone, it is highly recommended that you read Fated and Illusion to fully experience this book.

*This book contains sexy vampires, graphic language and highly erotic scenes that are not for those 18 and under or are of the faint of heart. Consider yourself warned.*

Excerpt from Odyssey

Bitter tears of defeat fell from my eyes and streaked down my temples, dampening my filthy, bloody hair. I was losing more than my life tonight; I was leaving behind the love of my existence. She was more than human, that much I knew. She had been a part of my life as long as I could recall, my first memory of her as a young man of 16. As of late, I had grown restless. I no longer wanted to walk this earth without her at my side. She had invaded my every waking thought, bewitching me with her presence. Was this my penance for my impatience? For my insolence?

My warm exhale blew out into plumes, spreading into the dark night. The haze from my breath was testament to the bitter chill of the night. Slipping in and out of consciousness, I did not have much time left.

It was time for me to let go of this life and everything I cherished.
“Steafedn.”
Her voice pulled me from the abyss and surrounded me like a lover’s embrace. It

took a moment for her face to come into focus, my vision clouded and blurry. Brilliant eyes like emeralds stared back at me. Even in my weakened state I could see the sadness and desolation that had taken residence there. She reached for my hand, her skin warm against my cold, dying flesh.

“I cannot lose you.” My words sounded empty and weak. I refused to beg for my life; even it was possible for her to grant me a second chance at living. Attempting to reach for her, I found that I no longer had the strength to move. She stared down at my failing, mortal body and tears rimmed her vibrant irises.

“Steafedn,” she sobbed desperately. Her free hand rose to stroke my dirty, blood soaked hair with trembling fingers. “There is nothing I can do, my love. Not now. It is too late. I failed you.”

My breath rattled in my chest as I stared into her eyes. She was flawlessly beautiful, ethereal with her pale skin and long hair that framed her face in wild, copper waves. Her hand clutched mine tightly, her skin like the finest silk.

I inhaled in a deep breath, the frigid air filling my lungs. It was a struggle to keep my eyes open and focus on her. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent this end for me. Shoulder no blame for my recklessness. If this is to be our farewell…our final goodbye, I offer thanks to Freya that she granted me this final reward. Know that I will love you for an eternity, min gudinna.”
She lowered her lips against mine, offering me a gentle kiss of farewell. She did not move and spoke to me softy. “There will always be a part of me with you, though you may not remember. I will be the wind in your hair, the whisper in your ear, the love you will bury deep in your soul. And one day when our fates align, we will be together again. You will lose your way; however when the moment is right you will see me. You will find me, Steafedn.”

Her cryptic words confused me. Did she not comprehend what was happening? I was dying a mortal death, yet she was speaking as if I would live. She was speaking in circles, her words perplexing. “Isophina?”

“You will not understand now. There is no time to explain.” She sighed and glanced up at the moon that hung high in the night sky. Her fingers drifted over my grime-covered face, her eyes tracing the contours of my skin as if committing it to memory. “I wanted this to happen another way, yet I was given no choice. This was the only way to save you, my love. Please forgive me.”

She paused for a moment. Her mouth pressed to mine with surprising force and her hands gripped both sides of my face. Our eyes met and she lowered her chin to her chest. Her voice was a whisper as she spoke again, “Remember me, Steafedn. I ask for nothing more than that.”

She disappeared into the darkness, leaving me alone in my final moments. My eyes closed and I cried out a final request, surprised at the hoarseness and desperation in my voice. “Let me die. Release me from this suffering.”

***

About Alexandra Anthony

Alexandra Anthony is the independent author of two romantic, erotic book series:

The Vampire Destiny Series and The Dark Hart Chronicles.  Both feature sexy vampires to die for, steamy love scenes and follow the twists and turns of her character’s many adventures.  Her books are not for the faint of heart.

She was most recently featured in USA Today in an article by Joyce Lamb titled, “It’s time to put some Paranormal Activity into your Reading” and was featured under Self-Published/Indie Authors for the release of Ascend (The Vampire Destiny Series Book 4).  Her paranormal, erotic romance Tempted (The Dark Hart Chronicles Book 1) was nominated for Best Erotica in the 2013 Orangeberry Hall of Fame Contest.

Ms. Anthony is from the Midwest (Ohio to be precise) and was bitten by the lure of the vampire at an early age.  She chose to take up writing and put her own twist on these mysterious immortal creatures…making them day-walkers that could easily blend in with their human counterparts.  She also enjoys weaving Old Norse and Greek Mythology into her stories, adding a bit of realism into escapism.

Coming up on the horizon for Alexandra will be the second book in The Dark Hart Chronicles, Rapture.  It is slated for a late fall/early winter release.

Hump Day Hook 43 – Dark Territory

Another Hump Day Hook!

Back to Dark Territory!  I ran through my proof copy just this week, so I’m feeling share-y.

Back to Katherine’s predicament from  couple weeks back. She’s been thrown into a wall and now has a gun leveled at her by the mysterious “no name” man:

“Yes, you do, messy and complicated. What you did to Jane…”

“Oh, you foolish child. There is no Jane. It’s Clara. She fooled you all. I’d be impressed if it hadn’t cost me.” Johnny quirked a brow. “That’s why Mr. Krenshaw’s attitude toward Clara was fortuitous. It gave me a way to stay close and exact some revenge, as well as a way to recover some of my funds lost to that little whore.”

*~*

Hump Day Hook asks authors to post one paragraph of one of their stories, whether a WIP, one contracted, or already published.  Please visit and comment on the participants – you might just stumble on the next great read for your library!  To see more participants, click on the HDH banner below:

Top Ten Reasons to Write by author Kristy Tate

Elizabeth George once said that she writes to stay sane. I do that, too. I also do it to keep everyone around me sane.

1.     Writing keeps me from obsessing. Here’s me when I’m not writing: Carol drops by with a pan of brownies. She looks like a teenager in that halter top. She says, “I brought these for your husband to thank him for helping me fix that broken window.” I say thank you, but inside I’m thinking I really wish she’d wear more clothes. I wonder what she was wearing when Larry was at her house, for how long was that? I can’t compare myself to her—I had six kids and she has a dog. Maybe my abs would look like that if I had countless hours to spend at the gym. Does she work out at the same gym as Larry? Why does she call him all the time? He doesn’t even like brownies. But, I love them. I bet she knows that. She knows that I’m going to eat this entire pan of brownies because now I’m so depressed and one or two or five brownies isn’t going to matter because I’m going to be divorced and single and fat. I better call Larry, although I just talked to him and he’ll be home for lunch in twenty minutes, I need to hear his voice.

 Here’s me when I’m writing: the doorbell rings but I don’t hear it because I’m deep into my story. Somehow Mercy has to stop Eloise from going on a drive with horrid Mr. Steele. What can she do—should she confide in Eloise? In the real world, my dog is pawing at me. No. Eloise is a blabber mouth. She can’t be trusted. My dog knows someone has come to the door and she pulls at my sock with her teeth. I shake her off, but she’s so annoying that I have to investigate. Someone has left brownies on my front porch with a thank you note. It’s from Carol, that darling girl from across the street. I consider the brownies and inspiration hits—Mercy will bake Eloise a pie laced with a draught that will make her sleep through her rendezvous with Steele. I put the brownies on the counter and save them for when Larry comes home for lunch. I hurry back to Mercy, Eloise and Mr. Steele, wondering how to make a sleeping draught.

(FYI- Neighbor Carol is fictional, used to make a point about my own lunacy and not a commentary on my highly respectable, modestly clothed and admirable neighbors or my good husband who always lets me eat more than my fair share of brownies.)

2.     Writing gives me someplace to put my head. As a mom, I do a lot of mindless things—driving, stirring, ironing, cleaning toilets—and while I’m doing these mindless tasks, it’s nice to have something to think about (other than my neighbor’s halter top.) I also love research. It’s like a treasure hunt that just keeps going. The internet is an endless source of information and if I can’t find what I need there, I try to think of people who might know and I call and ask them. No one has ever been annoyed. People love to believe that they’re experts and when I call with a question, they’re always happy to chat.

 

3.     Writing gives me hope. Remember how I said that as a mom I do a lot of mindless things? I don’t really enjoy most of them. I do them because they have to be done, but I’d really rather not iron, clean toilets and mop floors. I’d like to pay someone else to do those things, but since my husband makes several dollars an hour and I make pennies, I can’t pay someone to do those mindless chores that must be done. It wouldn’t be fair. I’ve promised myself that when I’m making several dollars an hour that I’ll hire a chore person. I hope to someday make enough with my writing to justify that expense.

 

4.     Writing gives me places to go. Remember how I said I love research? This summer I spent a day in Seattle visiting all the places that Laine and Ian would go. I walked through the neighborhood on Queen Anne Hill and took pictures of the turn of the century mansions. I stopped at Kerry Park and watched the boats in the harbor. And then I went to the University of Washington’s library, because that’s what Laine does in chapter four. I imagined her running down the steps and bumping into the girl with the smoothie. It’s like spending the day with very good friends.

 

5.     Writing gives me insight. I like to think I’m sensitive and intuitive to those around me, but when it comes to my own psyche, I’m clueless. Being a baby born late in my parent’s life, I grew up in a house full of teenagers and adults. If I ever lost my temper, I was subjected to ridicule. (Angry or not, I was almost always subjected to ridicule, but that’s a different post.) I learned to shut down my emotions and I’m pretty good at masking and avoiding them. Writing brings them to the forefront. I’ll unconsciously do things like name annoying characters after annoying people. I’ll usually catch the real life and fictional connections on the rewrite and make the necessary changes, because I’m sensitive enough to know it’s unkind and unwise to hurt even annoying people’s feelings.

 

6.     Writing introduces me to people. Through my writing, I’ve made friends with all sorts of people in all sorts of places. Because of the wonder of the internet, the world is a lot smaller. I have blog readers from just about everywhere. As an example, here is a breakdown of today’s international visitors to my blog:

Russia
17


Germany
14


Latvia
13


France
9


China
8


United Kingdom
5


India
5


Canada
4


Italy
4

 

7.     Writing helps me to connect with like-minded souls. This may sound like a repetition of #6, but it’s not. Avid readers are a rare breed and when I meet a like-minded literary soul, it helps me feel like a part of rare and unique breed. Here are the latest stats, from the Pew Research Center:

75% of Americans 16 and older read a book last year.
The median number of books read by readers last year was 6; the average, pushed up by those always-reading outliers, was 15.
The percentage of readers declined steadily with age, from 90% of 16 year-olds to just 67% of those 65 and older. Likewise, the percentage of readers increased steadily as household income and education levels rose.
81% of women read a book last year, but only 70% of men.

As you can see, if these numbers are to be believed, us bibliophiles are unique.

 

Here are three reasons for writing (according to George Orwell.) I like to think that none of them apply to me…but maybe they do.

8.   Sheer egoism.  

9.   Aesthetic enthusiasm

10.    Political purpose.

 

And that’s probably much more than anyone wanted to know about my psyche and why I like to write.

| Amazon | BN | Smashwords |

Kristy is the author of many novels, but only six are published. Her debut novel, Stealing Mercy, was on Amazon’s historical romance top 100 list for more than fifteen weeks and spent two weeks as number one.   The Rhyme’s Library was a semi-finalist in the 2013 Kindle Books Award contest and Hailey’s Comments was a quarter-finalist in Amazon’s Novel Breakthrough Contest. Kristy studied English literature at Brigham Young University and at BYU’s International Center in London. Although a long time resident of Orange County California where she lives with her family, Kristy’s heart belongs in her hometown of Arlington, Washington, AKA Rose Arbor–the fictional setting of her popular Rose Arbor series.

 

Sunday Snippet – Changing Tracks

My usual Sunday night post is going to be postponed, so I went in search of a new meme to play with.  I found the Weekend Writing Warriors and jumped right in.  Similar to my Wednesday HDH meme, this one has a tighter restriction of just 8 sentences.

Since it’s my first week I’m going back to the beginning. Back to Changing Tracks (The Dominion Falls Series book 1).

So welcome to my new visitors.  I’d like you to meet Cole Mitchell, saloon/brothel owner, and the amnesiac with the eidetic memory Jane Doe (Some creative editing involved…if you read the books there will be a few more period, a few less commas ):

“Who are you?” Her soft voice drifted from the bed, quiet, but demanding attention. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with hidden amusement, “Or rather, why would you barge in so boldly on a room full of women?”

From where he stood, he could see her pale skin, the sunken eyes, all the faint signs of weakness she worked hard to hide. Her spunk covered most of it more effectively than any of his whores’ powders could have done. He nodded, “Name’s Cole and you threw up on me, so you owe me a shirt. How ‘bout you, who are you?”

“I—well, I’m not sure.”

*~*

Head back on over to the Weekend Writing Warriors to read many more wonderful offerings!

Like Slow Sweet Molasses by Mickie Sherwood

| Amazon |

Blurb:

Teacher Angela Munso has lost control—of her spiraling life. She can control the fallout of recent news from whose loins she sprang as easily as she can her heart’s pitter-patter. To have feelings for a man who is everything she now wants to hate? That’s the last straw!

Lt. Brock “Chance” Alexander’s arrogance baits Angela. And—he knows it. It’s never so obvious to him as when she lobs that insulting phrase at the side of his head. She pushes all of his hot buttons. But, there’s one he dares her to touch—the one that pushes him out of her life.

   *~*

Scene: Angela and Chance recover from a publicly displayed difference of opinion.

Excerpt:

“Are you coming in for a few minutes?” Angela asked Chance once they arrived at her door.

“I shouldn’t,” he declined.

“I guess you’re right. What’s the point? This so-called relationship failed its first test.”

“That’s not the way I see it, Angela.” Chance cut the motor but stayed on the bike. “We’re both afraid of circumstances beyond our control. I’m more than certain I want you, exclusively, in my life. I’m just not certain you feel the same about me…and my profession.”

“I’ve confessed to having a humongous crush on you, Chance. An infatuation that supersedes all the anguish I’ve experienced in my lifetime. What would I do if you’re mortally wounded?” Her eyes closed at the thought and opened to him closing in for a kiss.

Chance relished the closeness as she melted in his arms accepting his affection. The kiss would have to last him several days for his next mission, assigned to him months before meeting her, would take him away from her and out of the state. He held on imprinting the feeling into his heart, rebelling at the thought of releasing her. “I’m going to walk away, now. I won’t be responsible for what might happen next in this relationship if I enter behind those doors.”

“I can tell,” she quietly admitted, her own passion rising. “Can I say something and you won’t think I’m easy?”

“I would never think that about you, Angela.”

“I’m glad you refused my offer to come inside. Lately, my will isn’t my own when I’m so close to you.”

He hoped she felt that way if she learned of his omission to inform her of his call to duty. If everything went according to schedule, she’d be none the wiser.

“Then, there is hope for us.” He drew from her well of sweetness once more, mounted his bike and left the words, “I’ll call you,” in the wind as he drove away.

 

 

My novels are available at:

Amazon  | B&N  | Bookstrand | RedRosePublishing

Bio:

I’m a cruise-loving, people-watching, picture-snapping baby boomer with time on her hands. So, I write sweet and spicy relationship-based mainstream contemporary romantic love stories. 

Find me at:

Mickie’s Mutterings | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads | Squidoo

 

 

 

Hopeful Dreams and New Beginnings by Emily Lawrence

| Amazon | AmazonUK | SCP |

Book blurb:

After two traumatic years spent with her abusive ex husband, Carly swore that she would never remarry. With a low self-esteem and haunting demons from her past refusing to relinquish their grip, she could hardly confide in men until she met Robert, her handsome boss who managed to sweep her off her feet and show her the time of her life.

With his help, her fears and frustrations became a swell of lust, a wave of desire that aroused her numb senses, restoring her lost confidence and reviving her need for a man’s touch and affection, needs that she had suppressed for such a long time.

Naughty, erotic fantasies are fulfilled while on a well deserved vacation to the Andros Island in Bahamas, adding more spice to their steamy sex life.

Will Robert manage to convince her to give marriage another chance and start a new chapter in their lives?

Excerpt:

“Why are you so afraid that I’m going to leave, anyway?” she asked, running her hand up and down his firm abs. She could feel his muscles contract under her fingertips.

“Because it’s happened before,” he answered in a low, feeble tone.

Carly tilted her head up to look at him, taken aback by his answer. “What?”

“Yes, I’ve been dumped before. After that I could no longer trust women. I refused to get emotionally involved with anyone. It was nothing but no-strings-attached sex for me.”

She took a moment to process his words. “Who would want to leave you? You’re the sweetest, craziest, naughtiest man I’ve ever met and if someone locked me up in here with you for the rest of my life, I’d be more than happy to accept such punishment.” She pressed her lips to the pulse that was pounding in his throat, amazed that a sexy, clever guy like him would have troubles in love. Unable to help herself and feeling the need to erase the unwelcome memories she had stirred, she gave in to the impulse and licked along a damp line up his neck, nipping at his chin on the way. She hoped that the sensual treatment she was giving him was enough to make him put everything behind.

His voice was husky when he spoke, “I guess she had better plans…”

“Nothing could be better than this,” she stated and offered him a scorching kiss, devouring his mouth possessively. It was her turn to make him feel at ease. Determination oozed from every pore of her body, and she did everything she could to make him understand that she had no intention of leaving him.

“When you…showed up…for the job interview…” He tried to speak, but she kept interrupting him with kisses, his own tongue playing with hers with an eroticism that made her head swim and her need for him grow.

“Yes?” she asked, curious to hear what he had to say. She angled her head down and moved her mouth back to his neck, then swept it over the curve of his cheekbones, his stubble tickling her soft lips. Her palms were splayed against his chest and her fingers toyed with his nipples in a way that she knew inflamed him.

Robert let out a low roar and moaned her name unintelligibly, but he seemed to struggle to concentrate. “Carly…the moment I saw you…I was struck by your beauty. You innocent smile was the sweetest thing I had seen. I went home from work that day and nearly crashed the car twice. I couldn’t stop thinking of you. It was not something that I had experienced before and I wasn’t sure how to act. Then…once I found out what had happened to you I got so angry. I wanted you even more. I wanted you so much that I ended up knocking on your door in the middle of the night and asking you to sleep with me. Straightforwardness is my thing, but it was the first time I was doing that with somebody that I really liked. I acted on an impulse because I couldn’t stand one more day without holding you in my arms and loving you like you deserved it. I needed you…badly…”

Carly had stopped her playful assault and was hanging onto every word he was saying to her, their gazes locked in a heated clash. She felt an unusual sensation of weightlessness and the illusion held for a long moment as she stood enthralled by the promise in his eyes. “Any other man who would have showed up at that hour requesting such a thing would have most likely made me call the police. But you…I wanted you too even though I was scared as hell. I still can’t believe I did it. I could not recognize myself. But I do know one thing…that was the most beautiful, hot, sensual, enticing night in my entire life and I’d be more than happy to have nights like that with you for as long as I live.”

Their tender embrace turned to raging passion in the blink of an eye. Desire for one another spiraled higher, pushing away thoughts of the past and the future, lost in their happy place, their bodies yearning to move to the rhythm of a melody only they could hear.

*~*

Author bio:

Emily A. Lawrence lives in Transylvania with her family, hence her love for vampires and paranormal books. She is extremely passionate about fiction and has been writing stories, mostly fan fiction, for years now, but only began thinking seriously about publishing approximately a year ago. Having her family’s support, and encouraged by friends and fellow authors, she pursued her dream of becoming a published author.

Emily loves creating new characters with whom readers can identify themselves, and losing herself in their worlds. Usually, she writes contemporary romance in three heat levels: sweet, sensual and erotic. However, she would like to try her hand at other genres one day, such as paranormal or mystery.

When she’s not writing, she enjoys traveling and experiencing new cultures, new sceneries, food and meeting new people, or simply reading a good book.

 

Author contact links:

Blog: http://emilyalawrence88.blogspot.ro/

Website: http://emilyalawrence.wix.com/emily

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EmyALawrence?ref=tn_tnmn

Facebook fan page: https://www.facebook.com/author.emily.a.lawrence?ref=hl

Twitter: https://twitter.com/EmyALawrence

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/20344150-emily-a-lawrence

 

Meet Author Kristen Beairsto

Personal

Can you tell us a little about yourself? I live in San Diego, CA with my husband and our two heathens—I mean, adorable daughters.  When I’m not writing, reading, or chasing my girls, I try to have as much fun as I can with family and friends.
Do you have a day job? Yes, what can I say, my kids like to eat and won’t stop growing! ; )  Writing doesn’t pay the bills fully – yet!
What was the greatest thing you learned at school? I think the greatest things I learned were outside the classroom.  The social aspects of school – learning to interact with others, finding your way and how you fit in the scheme of things, figuring out who you are, etc. – I feel were more important than what I memorized out of books.
Do you laugh at your own jokes?  Sometimes, depends on the joke.
Why do you think what you do matters? My daughters.  I’m not perfect, but I know they look to me as an example of how to be and I’m doing my best to try and make them proud.
Have you ever found true love?  Yes!  I met him 11 years ago and haven’t let go, nor do I plan to.
Do you have a saying or motto for your life and/or as a writer? Not so much as a writer, but just for life in general, “Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans” – John Lennon.  So simple, yet so meaningful.
What is something you never leave home without (apart from keys, phone, money, and ID)? There’s not really much other than my iPhone – I have an app for almost everything in my life.  My husband teases me that he knows I’ll be just fine if I ever get stranded in the woods because he’s sure I’ll have a survival app I can use.
Where can people find you on the web? Where can they read more about your books? The best place is my website is www.kristenbeairsto.com.  I’m also on Facebook (www.facebook.com/authorkristenbeairsto) and Twitter (www.twitter.com/authorkbeairsto).

 

Your Novel

What is your book about? Jules is the heroine and she’s responsible for her five younger brothers and sisters after the death of their parents.  But to help make ends meet, she works as a consultant to a black market antiques dealer.  Her old high school crush, Roman, reenters her life and she struggles with the possibility of a relationship and trying to keep her secret.
What about your book might pique the reader’s interest? I think readers will find they can relate to Jules and Roman.  Although she’s intelligent enough to have skipped multiple grades at a time, Jules is a woman who feels awkward with herself and is struggling to give her siblings the best life she can at the risk of her own safety and happiness.  There are so many of us out there that feel and do the same thing.  Roman is a Navy vet who is trying to figure out his place in the world after being wounded and experiencing life in a war zone.  I think a lot of people can relate to just wanting to figure out where they belong.
Are the names of the characters in your novel important? Although, it’s not an incredibly deep meaning, there is some.  Jules and her siblings are named after Shakespeare characters (Jules is short for Juliet).  Roman’s nick name from high school is Romeo as a nod to their opposites attract theme since he was the high school heartthrob and she was the school geek.
How did you choose your title? Because Jules has an affinity for books I wanted the title to have something to do with books.  I’m horrible at figuring out titles for stories!  But during the editing process, I was struck by one of the lines Roman has about Jules making an assumption about him and “judging a book by its cover”.  I realized that phrase covered so many facets of the book that I had to use it for the title.
Who is your most unusual/most likeable character? Other than Roman and Jules, I think the most likeable character in the story is Roman’s brother, Richard.  He’s the town sheriff and a stickler for the rules, understandably.  But there’s just something about him that I think people will like despite the fact that he makes mistakes.
You got the call – your novel is being made into a TV series or movie – who’s in your dream cast? Hmmm, not sure about the female lead, but without a doubt, my dream male lead is Channing Tatum.  Mmmmm, sorry I need a minute . . . ; )

Writing

How many people (i.e. characters) have you done away with in the course of your career? Too many to count. Oh, that sounds bad!
Have you ever regretted killing one of them off? No. J  I even once killed off one of my best friends in an unpublished story, but without her death there wouldn’t have been a story.  Sorry, Heather! J
How much impact does your childhood have on your writing? I don’t think I’d be where I was if I’d had a different childhood.  I received nothing but encouragement as a kid and it’s because of it that I’ve been able to pursue my writing career.
What’s your writing schedule like? Do you strive for a certain amount of words each day? Basically, I write whenever I can.  Between a full time job, two kids, and a husband, I get in as much as I can whenever I can without losing too much sleep.
What is the most difficult part of the writing process? The easiest? The hardest part is getting the rough draft completed.  Because I don’t have a regular writing schedule and I sometimes only have time to write 500 words a day, there are times when it feels like it takes FOREVER to finish a first draft of a story.  The easiest for me is the editing process.  I love working on a story and taking the time to make it better.
How many stories are swirling around in your head? Do you keep a mental list, a computer file, or a spiral notebook filled with the ideas?  Right now, there’s 8 stories floating around in my head, 5 are outlined but I haven’t started them yet and 2 others are still working themselves out.  I try to write them down, but it doesn’t always happen, so I’m more of a mental list gal.
Who gave you the best writing advice you ever received and what was it?  The best writing advice I’ve ever seen was something I read in an interview with Isaac Asimov when I was really young.  He said the best way to become a better writer is to read and write.  Since then, I’ve seen that same advice given time and time again.  So basic, but so true.
Have you written any other books?  Yes, I have three other novels — Love Like Krazy, Sugar & Spice, and Going After the Heart.

Fun (Crazy, odd questions just for fun)

Have you ever gone out in public in mis-matched shoes, or with your shirt on backward, and when you realized it just said ‘eh, screw it’?  No, but I’d probably say screw it if it did happen.
Are you a neat freak? Or clutter-bound?  I’m a weirdo and a combo of the two, don’t like things crazy neat, but don’t care for a lot of clutter either.  Of course, with kids, it gets hard to keep things even reasonably neat on a regular basis.
You were just given a yacht. What would you name it? Girls Just Want to Have Fun
Someday I want to _____ (fill in the blank) Spend an entire day sitting at an Italian villa, sipping some really good wine and watching the clouds roll across the sky.
If you could have a super power, what would it be? Hmmm, tough!  Probably the ability to not have to sleep – I’d get so much more done!!
How many licks does it take to get to the middle of a Tootsie Pop? 5, because I start chewing on it after that. J

Quick Questions

Sing in the rain or dance in the streets?  Sing
Pen or pencil? Pen – I like to live dangerously
Summer or Winter? Winter
Movies or TV? TV
Theater or DVD? DVD
Rural or Urban? Rural
Facial hair or clean shaven?  Facial hair – I’m a 5 o’clock shadow kind of girl
Cowboy or Bad Boy? Cowboy
Sunrise or Sunset? Sunrise
Fall leaves or Spring flowers? Spring Flowers
Peanut butter or jelly? Peanut Butter – best food ever!
Spender or Saver?  My inner saver is easily silenced by the spender showing her a cute pair of shoes

 

*~*~*~*

| AMAZON (Free September 5 & 6) |

Blurb

Books have always been Juliet Marlowe’s sanctuary; the one place she would never be judged or made to feel like an outcast.  But when tragedy strikes, she has to get her nose out of the antique tomes she prefers and become the guardian of her five younger brothers and sisters.

Jules struggles to make ends meet.  And with the constant threat of losing custody of her siblings if she doesn’t maintain the standard of living previously set by her parents, she finds herself forced to make tough decisions and take risks.

One thing she knows for certain is she definitely does not have room in her life for a relationship.  Especially with a man who’s trying to readjust to civilian life and who once held a starring role in her secret fantasies.  No, absolutely not, she does not have any room in her life for Roman Price and his smoldering gaze that triggers her irritating blushes with only a thought.

But when everything Jules has built threatens to collapse on her, she finds herself not only accepting Roman’s offer of help, but starts to question whether or not she misjudged the situation from the beginning.

 

Excerpt

Roman fought desperately to keep his shock in check.

This long-legged beauty was Juliet Marlowe?  The same timid girl who roamed the high school halls watching everyone as though a monster might pop out and eat her?

Man, she filled out nice, he decided as he moved towards her with an outstretched hand to help her up.  He carefully kept his gaze on her face.

When he walked in, his Navy training took over and he swiftly took in the situation, cataloging the various details of the scene.

Including the black bra easily seen through the soaked white blouse.

He felt a pull in his groin.  A welcome feeling, considering his lack of physical response to anything but pain over the last several months.

Struggling to recall her face back in high school, he could only remember how she used to duck and hide behind a book.  He wondered if there had been a hint of the smooth expressive features then.  Features, he couldn’t help noting, were bright red.

Embarrassment rated better than pain or tears, he figured, still worried she might have hurt something.  Reaching her, he bent down and offered his hand, “You think you can stand?  Anything hurt badly?”

She gaped at him, making him wonder if he had something on his face.  He didn’t think so.

As though coming out of her stupor, she lifted a hand to cover her eyes, “Please someone tell me he’s a mirage and I really just hit my head and am laying on the floor bleeding from a serious head wound.”

Frowning, Roman slowly stood and glanced for a second at the young boy she walked into the kitchen with.

The boy shook his head as he looked down at Jules, “She’s finally lost her mind,” he regarded her sagely.

Arching a brow, Roman returned his gaze back to Jules.

Hand falling away, she moved the brightest pair of blue eyes he ever saw to the boy.  He again wondered if he knew she possessed that vibrant gaze when they were teens.

“Finally?  You’re just now noticing,” she replied before turning her eyes back to him.

 

Bio  

In between her to-be-read pile and trying to bring the characters in her head alive, Kristen spends as much time as she can with family and friends.  Much to her husband’s dismay, she enjoys collecting purses, shoes, and jewelry.  During those rare times she’s not working at her day job, rushing her daughters somewhere, watching movies with her husband, and trying to meet a deadline, she can usually be found energetically cheering for one of her favorite New York sports teams.

As with just about every other writer on the planet, Kristen grew up an avid reader.  She started with young adult before she technically hit the age range and moved on to sci-fi classics by Isaac Asimov and Ray Bradbury.  At fifteen, her best friend gave her a book she just had to read!  The book was Honest Illusions by Nora Roberts.  Always a sucker for a happy ending, she was a goner and fell in love with the romance genre.  Having started writing novel length stories at the age of eleven, Kristen’s stories all took a romantic turn from that point on.

You can connect with Kristen through her website www.KristenBeairsto.com, Facebook www.facebook.com/AuthorKristenBeairsto, or Twitter www.twitter.com/AuthorKBeairsto.

 

 

Hump Day Hook 42 – Dark Territory

Another Hump Day Hook!

Back to Dark Territory!  Last week I spooked you all, this week I got a little more light-hearted fare

Cole has just discovered a news article with a blatant lie about himself.  His business partner, Graham, thinks it’s the most hilarious thing ever:

“That little son of a bi—”

“Ha.” Graham slapped the floor before hopping back on his feet. “You’re the one that wanted an alternate story. That’s what you get for leaving it up to Rusty. You know he’s still mad at you.”

“I didn’t do nothing to him.”

“You sent him a whore at church.”

“Well, he said I watered down my whiskey.”

“You do.” Graham snickered.

*~*

Hump Day Hook asks authors to post one paragraph of one of their stories, whether a WIP, one contracted, or already published.  Please visit and comment on the participants – you might just stumble on the next great read for your library!  To see more participants, click on the HDH banner below:

Tuesday Tales – Building

The prompt this week is Building.

Back with Deep Fried Sweethearts.

I’m going back in time again…back to right after the first post where we met Tag and Michaela.  This week we learn a little more about Tag and what he’s come from and what he thinks about Michaela.

As always this is un-edited mostly, so forgive any errors:

The Diner was almost empty of customers by the time Tag made it there. Inside a woman wiped down the counter, her graying blond hair edging out of the bun she always put it in to start her day. Short and slim, she still looked young despite years of hard work. His aunt had worked almost every day of his life, even as she’d raised him while first serving at, and then owning The Diner.

He entered with a sheepish duck of his head. “Hey Aunt Myrtle.”

“Tag, my boy.” She set down her rag and grabbed a glass. “Your usual?”

“I can’t get it myself Auntie-M.” He teased as he took the glass and went to the pop machine. “Was it real busy today?”

“Blessedly so, son. We were packed most of the afternoon. Surprised you didn’t see from where you were.” Myrtle nodded toward the front windows where there was a clear view of the auto shop across the street. “Any luck rebuilding that hunk of junk?”

“Not much.” Tag swirled his drink around in its glass and frowned. “I couldn’t seem to focus today anyway. I think I just got in Clay’s way. He gave up about two and went to work on paying repairs. Not that I blame him, that old Nova might be beyond hope.”

“Why you want to rebuild it anyhow? It’s been sitting around my barn for years.”

It was the last, and only, thing he remembered about his parents. He could still hear his mom teasing his dad about the “no go” car. When he was four he didn’t understand, but he did now. He sighed and set down his glass. “I just needed a project, I guess.”

She patted his hand, and then resumed wiping the counter. “That’s more than a project, it’s a life sentence. It’s you money and time, though. I can’t fault you there.”

He cleared his throat and down his drink. As he refilled it, he said over his shoulder, “I turned in my resume at The Midway today.”

“Good boy. What did Mikey have to say?”

“Ugh. I hate that name.” He wrinkled his nose and sat at the counter. “She looks nothing like a Mikey. She’s sure not a tomboy, she’s all elegant and womanly.”

“That so?” Her brow arched and her lips twitched. “Are you crushing on an older woman?”

Truthfully he’d had a crush on her for years. Since his babysitter, Wendy, had brought Michaela over to do homework one night. He’d not yet hit puberty, but he still thought she was pretty. “I’m trying to get her to hire me, not date me.” Not yet, anyway.

“So you are still crushing on Mikey O’Keefe. I thought you’d stopped that years ago.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Boy, you are in for a heap of trouble if you work there. Are you sure it’s smart?”

“Well you won’t hire me.”

“No sir. You’re making your own way just fine. I intend to keep it that way.”

“I can’t keep doing the odd jobs, and I know I can do the job she needs me to do.” He twirled his glass in the condensation circle it had created on the counter. If he met his aunt’s eyes now he’d be caught. He did like Michaela, had for years, but he also really wanted this job. “I’ve wanted to work at The Midway since day one. I thought I could bring in Grandma’s candy recipes, but she wasn’t looking for anything but part time help, and I had enough part time gigs.”

“Defensive.” She leaned on the counter across from him. “Alright, mister. I’ll leave you be, but you still haven’t told me what she said.”

“She agreed to an interview, but she didn’t sound very positive.”

“You’ll just charm her like you always do.”

Tag wrinkled her nose when she tapped it with her finger. “I’d rather get hired because I can do the job, not because I can charm someone.” Although he didn’t imagine with Michaela it would take much. He could still picture her deep red blush that had so easily filled her cheeks and seeped down her elegant neck.

His aunt was right, he was in a heap of trouble.

The doors to the kitchen swung open with a bang when Myrtle walked back into the kitchen. “Just remember to dress right and shave that scruff off your face.”

“I like my scruff.”

“Fine, be a ragamuffin,” she hollered from the back.

He laughed and finished off his drink. After a moment he brushed his fingers along his chin and wondered if Michaela liked the scruff. “Yeah. I’m in a heap of trouble.”

*~*

Hope you enjoyed it!  Click on the Tuesday Tales badge to see more excellent entries!!

*~*

 

 

Howling at the Moon by Loc Glin

Howling at the Moon a Mystic Museum novel

Minerva’s Mystic Museum is located in New York City. Every full moon the “powers that be” choose someone from the visitors of the museum. This someone, known as the mystic walker, will be the hero/heroine of the novel. The “powers” select someone they feel deserves a second chance, or just a chance to follow their destiny. Minerva, the curator and caretaker of the museum meets the chosen mystic walker. Through the magic that has been entrusted to her, Minerva supplies them with the opportunity to change their lives.

Blurb:

Carolyn, lonely and heartbroken after being dumped by yet another boyfriend who told her she needs to loosen up in bed, escapes her empty apartment. On the night of a full moon she visits Minerva’s Mystic Museum.

Minerva recognizes her pain and provides her with the opportunity to change her life. The full moon has chosen Carolyn as a mystic walker.

Carolyn’s dormant sexuality is awakened by three handsome shape-shifters. Jacob, caring and nurturing, lures her into his world. Milo, impetuous and rough, awakens unknown desire. Sven, cold and reserved, tests her mettle. Will she choose to walk on the wild side with the wolf pack and become their female? Will she be able to convince Sven that she is worthy and should be given the opportunity to join the pack? Will Sven’s fear of losing another mate destroy the future of the pack? Or will Carolyn choose to return to the normal life she’d come to see as her due?

Story Excerpt:

Carolyn walked up the steps to the museum. She’d left her apartment to avoid being alone. She’d walked without a destination, walking just to walk. A month had passed, and Randy’s cruel words still rang in her head. “Loosen up, Carolyn. Christ, do you even like sex? Making love to you is frustrating. How can I feel like a man if I can’t make you feel like a woman?” He’d left her that night

Randy wasn’t the first man that had called her frigid. She was afraid he wouldn’t be the last. She liked sex well enough. A man wouldn’t respect her if she acted on the primal urges she sometimes felt. A normal woman didn’t feel the hunger she experienced. It took all her control to keep it at bay, so she appeared cold and lifeless.

She pulled the imitation fur collar of her coat tighter around her throat. She raised her chin and tilted her neck so she could look at the sign above the door. Minerva’s Mystic Museum, it proclaimed.

The room she entered was quite large, but the subtle lighting made it feel much smaller and intimate. Pictures hung on some of the walls. Beautiful murals were painted on others. Seating was provided here and there for the patron’s viewing ease. A musky yet relaxing aroma permeated the air, strong but not overpowering. Soft music and sometimes chimes filled the space with a comfortable, warm vibration.

Her body began to release tension she hadn’t known she held. She felt very tired. She sat on a bench in front of a mural. The weight of her troubles filled her heart.

She’d just focused on the mural in front of her when a woman stepped into her line of vision.

“I am Minerva, curator of this museum.” Her slim hands were clasped in front of her. “May I sit down?” she asked motioning to the bench.

Carolyn moved over. “Yes, please do.”

“It’s called Howling at the Moon. It’s one of my favorites,” Minerva said.

“He seems so lonely,” Carolyn said. Her gaze fixed on the mural.

“Yes, he does.” Minerva looked at Carolyn intently.

“I know how he feels,” Carolyn sighed. She fought back the tears that threatened to unleash themselves.

“I believe you do.” Minerva put her hand on Carolyn’s shoulder.

Carolyn looked into Minerva’s eyes. Those dark orbs searched her soul. After what seemed an eternity, Minerva smiled and stood.

“You have the power to change your loneliness.” Minerva placed her hand on Carolyn’s heart. “Trust what you feel in here. Your love, in all its manifestations, is a good thing. Safe journey. May the goddess grant your hearts true desire.”

Minerva moved away and she returned her attention to the mural before her. The scene it depicted tore at her heart.

The full moon hung in a cloudless starry night sky. The moonlight bathed the landscape in a silvery glow. A wolf sat howling at the moon from its place on the mountain ledge. Trees blanketed the mountain. The mountain rolled down and changed into the low hills of the valley where the trees thinned. The valley changed into a meadow covering the lower portion of the mural.

She watched the wolf turn its head. She felt as if it was looking at her. She held her breath. Her heart began to pound. She felt a connection with that wild beast beyond anything she’d ever experienced. The wolf turned and disappeared from the scene in front of her. She released her breath. She slowly searched the landscape. Her nostrils flared, she could almost smell the night air, could almost smell him. Where had the wolf gone? Was he as lonely as the mural depicted him to be? A moment later the wolf appeared at the tree line in the valley.

She watched the beautiful beast leave the dark safety of the Evergreen trees. Its body grew larger with each step. Fifty yards from her, near the mural’s edge, she watched it morph from a wolf into a man. The man stood there as naked as the day he was born. His muscled body bathed in moonlight. His golden eyes bore into her soul. He stretched out his arm and opened his hand. “Come,” he said.

 

Visit my Website  http://www.LocGlin.com You’ll find the first chapter for Howling at the Moon and my other novels.

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