R.E. Hargrave's Blog, page 334

RELEASE TOUR: Valentine's Pets & Kisses BOXSET

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Title Links = Individual Amazon Link if availableAuthor Link = Amazon Author Profile Valentine Hound Dog - Rachelle AyalaA fashion designer and her basset hound puppy convince a burned ex-firefighter that beauty is never skin deep and neither is love.The Crazy Girl's Handbook - DelSheree Gladden Watching her nephews was supposed to be fun and a relaxing weekend for Greenly, not a never-ending disaster all witnessed by the best blind date she ever stood up.The Vet's Valentine Gift - J.L. CampbellA veterinarian is caught between his job, an ex, a menagerie and love. Can a little Cupid fix things by Valentine's Day?Her Perfect Catch - K.L. BradyYears of faithful dog-sitting pays sweet dividends when a struggling sports writer scores tickets to the Super Bowl and encounters her favorite football player.Inflamed - Jade Kerrion A firefighter running from his past convinces a hard-luck single mother to believe in happy endings. Remember When - Hope WelshA couple headed for divorce discovers common ground for joint custody of their Akita.Your Biggest Fan? - Sydney Aaliyah MichelleSnowed in with the man of her dreams, a football fan and her dog find love.The Feline Fix - Caroline Bell FosterA scientist questions her cat's loyalty when it comes to love and a hunky policeman.Trembling Hearts - Suzette Riddick A daring young woman crashes into the life of a disfigured recluse and his pooch. Can love be far behind?Valentino, Be Mine - Tina D.C. HayesSparks fly when two people who can't stand each other wind up dog-sitting a rambunctious little Yorkie that needs a new home. Lost and Found - Jeanne BannonStuck with her ex's puppy, a young teacher meets a new man after a series of unfortunate events.Surviving San Francisco - Susan OloierA small town girl survives San Francisco after she hits a cat and falls for a handsome veterinarian.19 Ivy Lane - Aubrey WynneA mysterious woman and her cat befriend a postman and set tongues wagging on Ivy Lane. But when he delivers a long-awaited letter, will his heart be "returned to sender?"Three Plus Three - Cindy Flores MartinezA grieving widow and her beloved doggie meet a handsome widower the day before Valentine's Day. Author Links = Author's WebsiteRachelle Ayala From romantic suspense to sweet contemporaries, I write from my heart and love to include children and pets in my stories.DelSheree Gladden is a USA Today bestselling young adult and romance author, whose writing includes everything from dystopian and Native American mythology to sweet and funny romances.J.L. Campbell is an award-winning author who writes sweet romance, romantic suspense, women's fiction, new and young adult novels.K.L. Brady is a multi-award-winning author of sweet and sexy romantic comedies, young adult romance, and a spy thriller series based on her career in U.S. intelligence.Jade Kerrion writes frequently award-winning, occasionally best-selling science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance novels.Hope Welsh writes romance fiction. Her first love is paranormal. She's been writing since she was in third grade and has never looked back. Sydney Aaliyah MIchelle is a contemporary romance writer, a voracious reader and movie fanatic who hails from Texas.Caroline Bell Foster writes contemporary women’s fiction with themes of substance that defy convention.Suzette Riddick is a wife, mother and nurse practitioner who enjoys writing romance novels with a touch of reality.Tina D.C. Hayes writes romantic suspense and cozy mysteries while her pampered pooches and parrots stand guard against writer's block.Jeanne Bannon is an international best-selling author of paranormal and romance fiction with twenty-five years of experience in the publishing industry.Susan Oloier is a mother and educator who writes memoir, as well as adult and young adult contemporary fiction.Aubrey Wynne is an elementary teacher by trade, champion of children and animals by conscience, and author by night.Cindy Flores Martinez writes sweet romantic comedy and inspirational romance in both English and Spanish. Amazon US ~ Amazon UK ~ B&N ~ iTunes ~ Kobo ~ Google Play ~ Goodreads
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RELEASE TOUR: Ravaged River by Lindsay Cross

AUTHOR: Lindsay CrossCOVER DESIGNER: Kim KillionEDITOR: Angela PolidoroOFFICIAL GENRE: Romantic Suspense, Military (hot heat level)PUBLICATION DATE: January 30, 2016

Special forces operative Hoyt Crowe wasn't just damaged… he was broken. After suffering brutal torture in captivity, his once lively spirit is shattered. Now his greatest adversary isn’t some unknown terrorist in a foreign country, it’s himself.Hayden James watched Hoyt slide into a private purgatory of post-traumatic stress disorder, taking her heart with him. No longer warm and loving, he is cold. Hardened. A shell of his former self.When an old enemy threatens Hayden’s life, Hoyt must find the strength to slay his inner demons or lose the woman he loves forever. Ravaged River: Men of Mercy Excerpt By Lindsay Cross Hoyt Crowe tilted back the bottle of whiskey as he faced his reflection in the bedroom mirror. The man staring back was so poisonous he destroyed everything around him. Friends. Family. And, fucking worst of all, himself. Hoyt didn’t deserve to be alive. Not anymore. A car door slammed outside and he jerked, almost dropping the bottle. Goddammit. His control was gone. Destroyed. How could he protect his team if he flinched at every little sound? Sweat drenched his body. Hoyt lifted the bottle for another drink, spilled some liquor on his chin. His once sniper-steady hand shook like a new recruit on his first mission. Laughter erupted over the music from the living room, thrusting Hoyt back to that shack in the woods on Crowe Mountain. Three months ago, he and Jared had taken a trip to their past and returned to their former home--the place they'd fled as kids. Of all the mistakes he'd made in life, it was the one he regretted most. He'd been captured and tortured by his cousin and his cousin's girlfriend, who'd mistakenly thought he could give them the deed to the mountain. They'd trussed him up and the bitch had taken a flaying knife to his skin. He'd never forget the look of glee in her eyes as she sliced into him. Her shrill, screeching laugh. The same sound that was streaming in from the living room, except this time it was lacking the edge of madness. And just like that untrained newbie would have done, he’d blubbered and begged for his life. He took another swig, praying the fire from the whiskey would burn through his shattered nerves, and spilled more on his shirt. He ripped it off and threw it in the corner. Bile clawed up his throat, lacerating him from the inside out. I can’t even take a damn drink without shaking. His reflection was a mockery of what it had once been. Sliced and diced – he could write the manual. The deepest wound was on his face. The bitch had made sure he’d remember her every time he looked in a mirror. Now his lips pulled in a sideways smile even when he frowned. Not one smooth inch left. How could Hayden look at him, let alone want to be with him? She didn’t deserve to be tied to this. I am a weak, disfigured monster. Of course, monsters weren’t afraid of the dark, so he couldn’t even call himself that. Hoyt’s twisted lips pulled into a smile that didn’t reach his pale blue eyes. A knock sounded at the door. Hoyt ignored it. He wasn’t ready to face anyone. “Hoyt, it’s Hunter. I need to talk to you.” Christ. Hayden’s brother and his team leader wanted to talk to him in private. Hunter James wasn’t the type of man who was easily ignored. Hoyt staggered over to the rich oak dresser against the far wall. The mirror resting on it was as big as the dresser. There was no escape from his ruined reflection. “Open the damn door or I’ll kick it in.” Hunter’s voice rose over the pulsing music. Open your mouth and answer him. “Give me a minute.” Hoyt set the bottle down for long enough to rip a shirt from the drawer and yank it over his head. He glanced down at the Grateful Dead logo on the front of the tee. At least it fit him. He picked up the bottle and stalked to the wood door, the rustic hardwood creaking beneath his bare feet, and jerked it open. “What do you want?” “Jesus.” Hunter towered over Hoyt by at least three inches, and his black hair was cut short, military style. “You stink of alcohol.” Hoyt lifted the bottle in salute and took another chug. “Maybe this is why.” “What are you doing? Your house is packed full of people waiting to see you.” “I didn’t want them to come.” Hunter crowded into Hoyt’s room and shut the door behind him. The dark look on his face suited his nickname—the Grim Reaper—but Hoyt wasn’t afraid of him. No, his fears were all wrapped around that cabin in Crowe Mountain. “Why are you here? My big brother send you to pull me out of my cave? He can’t stomach looking at me anymore.” Hoyt let his face fall into the sneer that had become his signature look, the one that always sent Jared away. It could make milk curdle. “Your brother would kick my ass if he knew I was back here. He’s got some misconceived notion that he has to protect you.” Hunter crossed his arms and the veins on his arms popped across his massive muscles. “But I’ve got the feeling he might need protection from you, not for you.” Hoyt snarled and bared his teeth, feeling every inch the feral animal he’d become. “I’d never hurt my brother.” “Just like you’d never hurt my sister? Look at yourself.” Hunter advanced, prowling closer and closer, menace pouring off him in waves. “I look at myself every damn day.” Heat radiated outward from his chest, but his hands were shaking. He took another slug of the cheap rotgut, needing the numbness only oblivion could bring. Hayden. Hadn’t he done right by her? He’d broken it off, or had Jared to do it for him. Hoyt couldn’t lie to her face and tell her he didn’t want her any more. Not without revealing his true feelings. It’d been two months since that day he’d sat on his bed, listening to her cry from the next room while what was left of his soul bled out. Hunter stopped pacing, and Hoyt watched the anger slowly slide from his features until the only thing left was pity. Fucking pity. “Don’t look at me like that.” He wanted to shout the words, but all he could manage was a strangled whisper. “I’m sorry, man, I shouldn’t have gone at you like that.” “No. Don’t you back off now. Finish what you came here to do.” Hoyt was the one getting up in Hunter’s face this time, like mouth-to-mouth close. “I’m done.” Hunter didn’t move. “Fucking. Finish.” “Fine. You need help. You went through a lot. If you don’t get help on your own, I’ll take care of it for you.” Hunter hit the deadpan look he’d perfected, everything about him locking into a concrete wall. “That’s not why you’re here, is it?” Hoyt got up on the balls of his feet, bringing him to eye level with his team leader. Hunter growled but didn’t breach the invisible centimeter-wide wall separating them. “Why don’t I just say if for you? You came to tell me to stay away from your sister.” Hoyt barely held back from launching a punch into Hunter’s spleen to punctuate the words. But Hunter took a step back, breaking the tension, getting his shit under control, and said, “Promise me you’ll continue to leave her alone. She’s out here right now and she’s not ready to give up on you yet. She deserves better than you can give her right now. You know it. I know it.” Hoyt lowered down from the balls of his feet, needing to feel the solid floor beneath him. He knew he didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve any woman, let alone one as perfect as Hayden. But he wanted her like he wanted to breathe. Hoyt took in a deep breath, accepting his fate. Getting comfortable with the heavy pit of emptiness in his chest. He couldn’t be mad at Hunter. They all knew Hoyt’s body wasn’t the only thing that had been ruined in that cabin, but Hunter was the only one with the guts to say it. The rest of the crew had been treating him like he was a china doll with a crack in its head. Yes, he appreciated the truth, but it hurt to lose what little hope remained to him. “I promise. I will never lay a hand on her again.” Hunter stood there, lips parted, studying him. For a moment, Hoyt thought he might relent, but then he stalked out of the room and shut the door behind him. Hoyt stood there in silence for a moment, catching his breath, and then turned back to face the monster in the mirror. He’d never been a coward before, and he wouldn’t start now. He couldn’t hold a sniper rifle steady. He couldn’t hold his woman. She could no longer be his woman. He couldn’t even hold his shit together without pills and alcohol. His friends were here to celebrate his recovery. They were in the living room eating, drinking and having fun like the old Hoyt was back. Like he was normal. His chest felt like a thousand-pound wench was cinched around it. And now he couldn’t breathe in his own bedroom, the large open space as tight around him as a layer of shrink wrap. The walls closed in, trapping him, robbing the room of oxygen. His throat closed with it. Hoyt gasped, helpless to stop the panic, just like when he’d been helpless to stop the torture. Strung up like a piece of meat in that shack in the woods. Can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t stop. “Fuck you!” He threw a desperate punch, and his fist shattered the mirror. Shards of glass flew everywhere like shrapnel. His shoulders pinched tight and he threw the bottle of whiskey. Nothing could help him. Not the pills. Not alcohol. Not Hayden. Hoyt sank to his knees amidst the glass. No amount of counseling would fix him. He was as broken as the mirror and if he didn’t do something, he’d destroy his loved ones. Hoyt picked up a shard of glass. He was a burden. A disgrace to his team. Worthless. He wouldn’t give them the choice to try to save him. He didn’t deserve it. Besides, he knew Hayden enough to know she might not stay away. He didn’t want her to waste her life on him. Hoyt stuck the tip into his skin and sliced down his arm, making sure to slice the right vein. He’d been a coward when they’d tortured him. He’d begged. He’d pleaded. He’d given up his identity. But not anymore. This was the way he’d reclaim himself. A wave of dizziness hit and he fell to his hands. Blood gushed from his arm. He dropped flat on the floor and let it all go. No more nightmares. No more panic attacks. No more pity. Just darkness.

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Lindsay Cross is the award-winning author of the Men of Mercy series. She is the fun loving mom of two beautiful daughters and one precocious Great Dane. Lindsay is happily married to the man of her dreams – a soldier and veteran. During one of her husband’s deployments from home, writing became her escape and motivation. An avid reader since childhood, reading and writing is in her blood. After years of reading, she discovered her true passion – writing. Her alpha military men are damaged, drop-dead gorgeous and determined to win the heart of the woman of their dreams.             BLOGGER PARTICIPATION LIST FOR THIS TOUR

#IABBAddicts GUEST AUTHOR & #Giveaway: S.H. Pratt

Check out more information on #IABBAddicts hereJoin us every Thursday for IABB #Confessions
ABOUT THE BOOK
Author: S. H. Pratt
Title: The Artist's Touch
Series: The Artist's Touch, #1
Pages: 314
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Date published: November 20, 2015
Synopsis:
Exhausted, disillusioned and disgusted with her life in Los Angeles, Clarice “Rissa” Daniels leaves a successful acting career for the comforts of home in Olympia, Washington. Embracing a simpler life without the overabundance of testosterone that she’d dealt with in California, she works to recover and rebuild her life without the “Hollywood craziness”, away from the toxic presence of her ex-boyfriend, and far from the paparazzi. When a walk in the park drops her into the lap of Spencer St. George, she finds herself drawn to his quiet, unobtrusive demeanor, but Rissa quickly realizes that there is much more to the bespectacled middle-school art teacher.Spencer St. George prefers the quiet life far from the hassles created by his family. Known as “Saint” to his students, he creates his own sense of peace with a paint brush in his hand while standing behind an easel. When Rissa Daniels crashes headlong into his life, Spencer is sent reeling. Unsure of her intentions, but drawn to her gregarious personality, he finds himself stepping out from behind his easel and daring to hope for more than his quiet life.But as Spencer and Rissa grow closer, history threatens to destroy them. Met with righteous reticence from his family and stubborn pride from hers, the couple sets out to discover the events that turned their families against each other. As the past begins to surface, the present becomes dangerous, creating an uncertainty that could bind Spencer and Rissa together… or drive them apart forever. 
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EXCERPT

“Excuse me?” Spencer asked in a low tone, unsure he’d heard the challenge in her voice correctly. “Yes, artist man, you heard me. Let me take you out, we’ll have dinner, get to know each other and you can learn that I’m not who you think.” Rissa proposed. Spencer took his glasses from his face and rubbed his eyes.“Are you asking me out on a date?” he asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice.“Yes, Spencer St. George, I am. Do you dare?” Rissa asked.Spencer gaped at her for a long moment, unsure of what to think of this beautiful, crazy woman sitting next to him asking him out.“You needn’t look so shocked. It’s the twenty-first century. Women are doing all sorts of crazy things.” Rissa smirked at him.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I am a native Montanan and the youngest of seven children. I moved to Washington in 1998 and have lived here since. I am the mom of three gifted children who challenge me and frustrate me in equal measure. We currently reside in Olympia, Washington.
I began writing in high school, completing my first novel on a Commodore 64, saved on I can't tell you how many floppy disks. I actually have no idea where that novel is and if I did, I'd have no way to retrieve it... I stopped writing to pursue my education but quickly realized I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up... oddly, I still don't know. So I decided to find a "real job". Over the course of the next twenty years, I was everything from a barista, to a restaurant manager, to a purchasing agent and an administrative assistant to the owner of a fire truck construction company and everything in between.
After having my children and they began reading, I noticed that the content of many books that they were able to comprehend was entirely inappropriate for their age and thought at the time that someone should write books that younger children with extreme vocabularies could read without destroying their innocence. Yet, I didn't get serious about writing until a couple of years ago. By the time I worked up the nerve to attempt self-publishing, I'd amassed a stack of rejection letters and seven complete manuscripts.
I have begun writing a fantasy novel that my children could read with appropriate content that I hope is advanced enough to challenge their minds. But I prefer to write contemporary romance with a heavy emphasis on psychology and the emotions of my characters. I feel that if my reader can feel what the character feels and can identify with it, I've done my job.

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LOOK AT ME! #PromoBlast Set Aside by Kelly Collins

A cowboy, a nurse, a disaster, a chance at love.When Holly McGrath walked into prison, she had a mother, a fiancé, and a career. When she walked out she had nothing. Solely focused on the one thing she thought she could recover, she set her sights on getting her nursing license back. There would be no distractions—or so she believed, then she met Keagan McKinley, he was tall, handsome, and necessary. Keagan McKinley moved to M and M ranch as a favor to his brother. It was up to him to turn a failed cattle ranch into a thriving horse breeding and boarding facility. Always living in the shadow as a middle child, it was the perfect opportunity to prove his worth. There would be no distractions—or so he thought, then he met Holly McGrath, she was tall, beautiful, and inescapable.Set Aside is a story about conquest, courage, and conviction. Sometimes, love is found in the softness of blue-green eyes, sometimes in a wounded soul. Mickey laid on the horn as we approached the row of cabins. She parked in front of cabin six. I had no idea why she was honking until a tall man with a perfectly trimmed beard strolled out of cabin eight. His brown hair caught the sun and showed hints of red throughout. His easy smile was that of a man who knew he was smokin’ hot.“What the hell is going on?” My eyes traveled to the man yelling from cabin seven. He could be a twin to the other man except for his clean-shaven face and deadly scowl. If he wasn’t careful the creases across his forehead could become permanent. Tall and intimidating, he made his way down the steps toward the truck.“Holy mackerel, Mickey, who are you, and how did you get Chippendales to loan you men to work the ranch?”“Nice eye candy, right? I think you’ll like it here.” Mickey jumped from the truck.The two men exchanged words. The man from cabin seven looked annoyed, as if my appearance was inconvenient. The second man shook his head and walked to the truck.“Let’s get Holly settled in,” Mickey shouted. “Carry her things into the cabin.” She gave them a move-your-ass look and both men stepped to it. I’d never seen her command anyone to do anything, and I envied her take-charge attitude. I needed to harness some confidence to move my life forward. The grumpy looking man snatched a box of my clothes from the truck bed and started toward the cabin. I swung the door open and exited, forcing the man to stop in front of me. His stare started at my legs and traveled past my stomach and landed on my breasts. I threw up my arms and wrapped them protectively around my girls.I’d never felt more like porridge in my life. If Matt was Papa Bear then this man was Baby Bear, and he hadn’t been fed in days. Amazon US ~ Amazon UK ~ Kobo ~ Nook ~ iTunes Amazon US ~ Amazon UK ~ Kobo ~ Nook ~ iTunes Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she is inspired by real time events mixed with a dose of fiction. She encourages her readers to reach the happily ever after but bask in the afterglow of the perfectly imperfect love. Kelly lives in Colorado with her husband of twenty-five years. She loves hockey, shiny objects and has a new found appreciation for green smoothies. Kelly has a landing page that hosts all her books. BLOGGER PARTICIPATION LIST FOR THIS TOUR

RELEASE TOUR: Aurora's Song by Cherime MacFarlane

Algen is finally home after spending most of her teen years, and young adulthood in Washington State. She has never been clear on the reason she was sent to live with her father’s relatives. But she has a job she loves and can finally live in the place she loves. The Aurora Borealis fascinates her; Algen has missed the lights and winter terribly. The Grannies want her to be careful. Should she be careful of the new hire at the native corporation? She’s sure if he gets too close her heart is going to be in grave danger. The cultural anthropologist is pursuing her with the single-mindedness of a big predator. Gunrik is too smart, too much of a hunk and far too tempting.


Ignoring the question, I sipped my tea and considered exactly what I was prepared to reveal to the man. I decided to keep my cards concealed. "I've made an offer, and I refuse to go into details about my reasons. You may accept or reject the offer. I do need to tell you there may not be another.""Offer accepted. What time will you be there? May we sit together?""We may. If all goes well, perhaps you can escort me to brunch afterward. We shall see."I thoroughly enjoyed the game we played. Gunrik interested me. I hadn't met a man who would spar with me in a long time. He could think fast on his feet. Verbal fencing could be so much fun. But I sensed he was almost as careful about who he let into his private world as I was. We resembled two tigers playing mating games. When tigers finished mating, the females went off to have and raise their young, and the males went back to their solitary existences. How would this work out? Would teeth and claws come into play? He had piqued my curiosity, and I do love puzzles.
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Although born in New Orleans, I am proud to call myself an Alaskan. I have lived here since 1977. I have seen -40 degrees, hauled water, made bear bacon and I live in a cabin. I have used a fishwheel to catch salmon coming up the Copper River. I was my second husband's chief mechanic's helper and roadie. I have cut firewood on shares. I worked as a cocktail waitress during pipeline days in a small lodge on the Richardson Highway.My second husband, a Scot from Glasgow, was the love of my life. When I write Scots dialect, I personally experienced hearing it from my in laws. When my husband got on the phone to Scotland, after 5 seconds I could barely understand a word.We moved to Wasilla to get warm. It barely drops past -25 degrees here in the winter. I became a paralegal and worked for over 26 years for the same firm.Alaska is my home. I never thought I would love it so much, I never want to leave. The beauty of Alaska is a draw I cannot resist. I love the people and the history. I have been captured by a place I came to under duress. Life does play some interesting tricks on one. My love and I were not apart more than 24 hours for 20 plus years. I never wanted to be anywhere but with him. He was a man to run the river with and was my biggest fan.

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#TeaserTuesday #AuthorToAuthor: Jeanne McDonald

Here's a little peek at what Jeanne McDonald is currently working on. 


Sex. Lies. Greed. Power. Scandal. Politics.
Nothing gets by Elizabeth McNeal. As a forty-five year old divorcee and a nationally renowned political strategist, she can claim to have seen it all. Most of her adult life she’s focused on two important things ─ her daughter and her career. Now, challenged by a new campaign and a new candidate, Elizabeth is forced to reevaluate the things she most values and make some major decisions that could impact her future.
William Baxter is a thirty-four year old Democratic Congressman for the great state of Texas who’s vying for an empty seat in the U.S. Senate. Accustomed to standing out in a crowd, Liam takes pride in being true to himself and the people he serves. He refuses to fall in line with the stereotypical persona of a politician. Backed by one of the richest men in Texas, Liam is offered the chance to work with D.C.’s most elite political strategist. With the odds already against him because of his party affiliation and age, it’s an offer he can’t refuse.
Apprehensive about their age differences and driven by politics, Elizabeth finds herself keeping score of their sensual game for control. For the woman who thought she’d seen it all, the man in the eccentric ties and a dashing smile teaches her a new game to play. Rules are made to be broken. Lines are meant to be crossed. But in the high stakes sport of politics, where one bad decision can destroy a campaign, can they afford to rewrite the rules to meet their desires or will they choose to remain politically incorrect?


Jeanne McDonald is an author, a mother, a wife, a student of knowledge and of life, a coffee addict, a philosophy novice, a pop culture connoisseur, inspired by music, encouraged by words, and a believer in true love.  When she's not spending time with her family, she can be found reading, writing, enjoying a great film, chatting with friends or diligently working toward her bachelor's degree in literature. A proud Texan, Jeanne currently resides in the Dallas/Fort Worth area with her family.

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PROMO TOUR: The Works of Petie McCarty

Kellen Brand's inheritance turns out to be a whopper -- one dilapidated farm in West Virginia and one guardian angel! Since Kellen is convinced no sane woman would choose to live in Riverside, she vows to sell her farm and quick. Her handsome and reclusive neighbor Luke Kenyon must block the farm sale or risk exposure of his family's secrets. While Kellen has located one potential buyer, she faces a town full of objectors. Someone is trying to frighten her off, and Luke is forced to step in and rescue her more than once. Unfortunately, Kellen can't seem to stay out of trouble. She stumbles onto a clandestine hazardous-waste-dumping operation next to her farm, and she prays Luke has one more rescue up his sleeve. It's her only hope of staying alive. Unless her mother really did leave her a guardian angel… The trees loomed ahead, and Kellen raced toward the water. The smell of the river rose up to greet her, and she slowed to maneuver down a low spot in the riverbank. Grinning like a child on Christmas, she untied her sneakers and stepped into the frigid water with a gasp. Squatting just above the water's surface, she reached up under the overhanging bank and felt around. Something skittered across her fingers. She tracked the vibration until she could snatch the small critter from its hiding spot. Pulling her hand from the water, she proudly held up a medium--sized crawfish, his pincers stabbing wildly in the air and his abdominal swimmerets pedaling madly as though he still raced upstream.The soft nicker of a horse sounded behind her. With a yelp, she whipped around and dropped the tiny invertebrate in the process. Luke Kenyon leaned over the neck of the magnificent black stallion and watched her. Same sexy cowboy attire as the day before -- dark flannel shirt, worn jeans, though no Stetson today to hide his handsome features or his expression."You scared me," she wheezed."Sorry," he said, though he didn't look it. "You've done that before.""What?"The slow smile curved across his cheeks, and his eyes darkened. Kellen felt the slow flush start at her chest where her heart pounded out a rhythm, and she prayed her neck and cheeks wouldn't turn pink."Caught crawfish."She wiped her hands on her shorts and winced. "A few, when I was younger.""Where?" He shifted a bit in the saddle, and the black horse side-stepped.Her turn to smile. "Where was I younger, or where did I catch crawfish?"He stared for a moment, and his eyes narrowed. A long moment passed, and he suddenly laughed out loud. Dismounting, he stepped to the edge of the bank and extended a hand to help her out of the water.She hesitated."I don't bite. I'm harmless." His voice rumbled low, and a shiver vibrated her spine.I doubt that. She watched him, but didn't move. He looked and acted like a man used to getting his own way."The name's Kenyon, Luke Kenyon." He kept his hand outstretched, waiting for her to make the next move.He was only being polite, after all. She grabbed hold of his hand, and he pulled her up the bank as though she had the weight of a feather. He kept pulling until she was close enough to feel his body heat. His dark eyes locked on hers, and she couldn't turn away. Oh good Lord, was he still holding her hand? She should pull her hand back -- she really should -- but she liked the warmth and security of his firm grip, the connection. No words were spoken yet the silence felt comfortable.Step back now. He isn't going to move. But she didn't, couldn't. She just mutely stared up into his warm, chocolate-dark eyes. And darn it, her finger tips tingled when her mind imagined the texture of his shirt were she to reach out and touch him, his chest , his arm, somewhere to complete that electric connection. "We didn't get introduced yesterday," he said, his deep voice sounding huskier now.Another shiver vibrated the base of her spine. The edge of his sensual mouth twitched just enough that the tiny hint of a smile set her heart galloping so hard she felt the pulses beat against her throat and prayed he couldn't tell. She pulled in a deep -- and hopefully unnoticeable -- breath. "I'm Kellen Brand."He moved now. His jaw dropped, and he nodded toward her farm. "Of those Brands?""Yup.""Well, I'll be."Unsure what he meant by that, she waited."Have you come back here to live?"Instinct said not to share her plans with a complete stranger, no matter how handsome. "Why?" His slow smile made her heart flutter. "I never thought I'd find someone so beautiful living here in Riverside."She wished desperately for a snappy comeback, but her lips wouldn't move. His smile kept her mesmerized."So? Are you staying or just visiting?"She willed her lungs to take in a silent and hopefully unnoticeable breath. "Just visiting." "Sorry to hear that." His smile faded slightly, which delighted her. He paused a moment. "Why the visit then?""You sure ask a lot of questions." She leaned down to brush off her knees and to sneak a deep breath or two without him seeing. She was embarrassed this stranger so easily made her heart race -- the heart she had kept under lock and key until she found someone good enough, strong enough, and smart enough. Certainly not some cowboy from West Virginia."I'm a curious kind of guy."She glanced up. He winked. Her heart raced off again. She needed to escape before he noticed the effect he had on her. Head down, she collected her sneakers and marched past the stallion, forcing Kenyon to ease the animal back a few steps. She kept walking past the tree line and felt the horse moving behind her. At the edge of the field, she stopped and whipped around. The stallion jerked his head up at the sudden movement, and Kenyon worked to steady him."Are you following me?""Yup." His eyes twinkled.He's mimicking me. Her hands went to her hips, and his eyebrows rose high. Unable to keep a straight face, she broke into laughter, and he joined right along."You didn't think I was just going to let the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in Riverside just walk away, did you?" His eyes darkened to almost black. His deep voice tantalized.How had he gotten so close? She could reach out and touch him. Her fingertips tingled again at the possibility. She'd better watch her step. She tilted her head. "What is it you want to know?""Why you're here, and why you're not staying." "This is my mother's farm. She died a short time ago."The smile vanished. "I'm sorry. I didn't know.""It's okay. Mom never sold the old homestead though I'm not sure why. But I'm here to get it ready to sell.""Not to the developer!"Taken aback, she stiffened. "Yes, how did you know?""Because he needs my land, too -- my grandfather's ranch." Kenyon's expression turned dark and formidable. "You don't have enough property for the resort he has planned.""I-I had no idea," she fibbed nervously. "My mother's attorney just said there was a buyer who would be in touch once I got here.""That resort won't be any good for Riverside." He remounted and sat back in his saddle, stiff and condescending."How can you say that? It will bring jobs here, and from the look of this town, Riverside could use a few jobs."His frown didn't flinch. "It will also bring the hangers on you usually find at resorts. People who won't care about the area or the environment."The stallion tried to lean down to eat, but Kenyon yanked the reins taut. "Riverside will be overrun with tourists, and the people around here won't be able to cope with that much of the outside world. Folks don't lock their doors in this town. That resort would change everything. You're not selling.""Excuse me?""You heard me. I said you can't sell. At least not to the developer.""Listen here, Mr. Kenyon.""It's Luke," he growled."Listen here, Mr. Kenyon," she snapped. "You don't tell me what to do. I decide about my mother's property. No one else. I decide."He pulled the stallion up hard, and the animal's front hoofs lifted off the ground. "We'll just see about that," he said and took off across the field."Why you arrogant jerk," Kellen snarled and stomped her foot. Her heel came down hard on a stubble of wiregrass, and she winced in pain, instantly mad as a hornet. "You just watch me sell this place!" she hollered after him and limped back to the house. Amazon Kindle ~ Amazon Paperback ~ Goodreads ANGEL TO THE RESCUE (Book 2) Child psychologist Rachel Kelly isn't quite sure how to handle the situation with her newest client -- a six-year-old boy who says he can talk to angels and one is coming to help Rachel. She already has her hands full of trouble this Christmas season, and things quickly take a turn for the worse when a stalker crashes Rachel's Christmas party and takes her young clients hostage.Police negotiator, Lt. Jake Dillon, walked away from his fiancée Rachel when she suddenly balked at having kids. His kids. Yet when the hostage crisis erupts, Rachel calls Jake first. Now he has a choice to make -- stand back and wait for the cavalry to save Rachel or step in and try to save her himself. Time is running out, and Jake may be their only chance for rescue.Unless Rachel's little angel-spying client is telling the truth… Rachel slid into the Publix parking lot on her way home from work. She'd picked the store close to her office rather than the one near the cottage, anxious to get the chore over with as soon as possible. She pulled out her list and collected the items on it in regimented fashion, aisle by aisle, doubling back only twice.She checked her voicemails while waiting patiently in the long line at the checkout counter. Breathing a sigh of relief when the bag boy put the last sack in her cart, she wheeled toward the exit and froze. Jake stood right next to the exit, plastic bag in hand and staring at her with nary a smile.There were dark circles beneath his eyes. Hadn't he been sleeping? His hair looked tousled like he'd just run his fingers through it, and his clothes had a five-o'clock-mussed look to them. He looked spectacular to Rachel.His eyebrows rose. He was waiting for her.She pushed her cart slowly forward, taking deep breaths to steady her heart rate. "Since this isn't our Publix, I'm assuming you stopped on your way home from work," he said when she reached his side. Our Publix? Had he even realized he'd said that?"You're right," she replied. "So why are you here?""My apartment's just around the corner."Ouch. That simple statement shouldn't hurt -- she knew he had an apartment around here -- but it did. She nodded."I'll help you out." He gently nudged her hands off the cart handle and took over, setting his own bag on top of her stack.Rachel paced alongside the grocery cart as they moved through the electronic door and was suddenly thankful for her parking spot at the end of the far row. She would have a few extra moments to be with him. How pitiful was that? She eased a step closer, anxious to inhale his unique scent of soap, aftershave, and pure Jake.He glanced over and caught her staring. She felt her cheeks flush and hoped he didn't notice."Jake, look out!" She grabbed the cart to stop it just short of a car backing out.He smiled his sexy crooked Jake-smile. "Guess I should keep my eyes on the road."Her heart ka-thumped inside her chest. "At least till we get to the car." He grinned.Had she just flirted with him? Had it been that easy to get past the trauma for a few brief minutes?Sooner than she would have liked, he pulled the grocery cart up at her Honda and helped stow her bags in the trunk, leaving his in the cart."Thanks for helping me," Rachel said."I'm glad you decided to stop at this Publix tonight.""You are?""Yeah, I'm glad I got to see you." Jake brushed a knuckle gently across her cheek leaving a streak of tingly nerve endings in its wake."But I thought you wanted… I mean, I haven't heard from you in…" She cleared her throat. "…a long time. I thought you might've… " Why couldn't she manage to finish a sentence tonight? Bad enough she felt pathetic, now she sounded pathetic."You thought I might've what?"She swallowed hard. "Might've found someone else by now."He stared intently for a long moment. "After all we meant to each other, you thought I'd go right out and grab a new girlfriend, just like that?" His mouth hardened to a thin line.She hadn't meant to rile him. The last thing she wanted to do was fight with him. Without thinking, she reached up and brushed two fingers gently across his lips, wanting that sensuous mouth to smile at her again.She startled him, and he jerked at her touch. She whisked her fingers away. "Sorry, I didn't want you to be mad."His gaze trapped hers, his pupils expanding until little of the brilliant green remained. "There's no new girlfriend, Rachel," he said gruffly."No?"He slowly shook his head, his now-dark eyes tracking hers. He seemed closer than he'd been a minute earlier.She exhaled hard. "Not yet anyway."He frowned. Why had she said that?"No, not yet," he said flatly."I'm glad," she said quickly. Screw pride."Are you?"He was definitely closer now. If she eased forward just a few inches, she could press her lips to his, feel that certain sizzle that always flared when they touched. But Jake had walked out on her. His move -- though she ached with the want to hold him, if only for a second."Yes. Very glad. I don't want you to find someone else--"His lips brushed hers into silence, sweeping gently across as though seeking permission, the touch just light enough to make her lean in for more. He didn't miss the movement and kissed her again, his lips settling against hers and nibbling at her lower lip. The sensuous teasing had her knees growing weak, and she grabbed the placket of his dress shirt to steady herself. He didn't miss that movement either, and he put his palms to her cheeks to deepen the kiss. Rachel felt dizzy and twisted her knuckles into his shirt to keep him close. She didn't care if they were kissing in front of God and everybody. If Jake wanted to throw her down here in the middle of the Publix parking lot, she was ready. She could always shop at Winn-Dixie.Suddenly, he pulled back. She tugged on his shirt, but she couldn't budge him. He was breathing hard. Heck, she was panting.There was heat in his eyes and something else. Something dark. "You don't want me," he said hoarsely, "and you don't want anyone else to have me. Is that it?" He peeled her fingers free of his shirt. "Well, you can't have it both ways, Rachel.""No, I--"But he was already gone, striding across the rows of cars, the cart and his bag forgotten."No, I choose you," she whispered.She watched him climb into his BMW several rows away and pull out of the parking lot. His small sack of groceries lay forgotten in her cart. She lifted the bag out and peeked inside. Razors and coffee. No condoms. She let out the breath she'd been holding. Jake had said there was no new girlfriend, but she'd've been devastated if he'd been prepared.He had to care. You couldn't kiss like that and not care. He hadn't asked about the mortgage papers either. She certainly wasn't going to bring them up. Once she signed them, a period would be placed on their relationship. Maybe Jake realized that, too. And now she had groceries to take to him. She just had to decide what she would tell him when she delivered them. Amazon Kindle ~ Amazon Paperback ~ Goodreads Amazon Kindle ~ Amazon Paperback ~ Goodreads
Petie earned a Bachelor's degree in Zoology from the University of Central Florida, which was no help at all when she decided to write romance novels as a second career. Her particular background did afford her the luxury of many unique assignments during her career as an aquatic biologist, including aquatic plant surveys in Florida lakes and streams by airboat. Many of those off-the-wall assignments provided background for her stories.Petie spent most of her career working as a biologist at the Walt Disney World Resort, "The Most Magical Place on Earth." What could be more magical than driving by Cinderella's Castle on your way to work every day? Living in the heart of the theme park entertainment industry constantly tweaked her imagination and made her want to write. She had the fun of working in the land of fairy tales by day and creating her own romantic fairy tales by night. She eventually said good-bye to her wonderful "day" job to write her stories full-time.These days, Petie shares her home on the beautiful Cumberland Plateau with her horticulturist husband, a spoiled-rotten English springer spaniel addicted to green olives stuffed with pimento, and a talkative Nanday conure named Sassy who makes a cameo appearance in Angel to the Rescue. She loves golf, running, and reads voraciously. That's Petie, not the conure.AMAZON ✯ WEBSITE ✯ FACEBOOK ✯ GOODREADS ✯ TWITTER ✯ PINTEREST ✯ YOUTUBE
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LOOK AT ME! #PromoBlast: Worst Week Ever by Liza O'Connor

What do you get when you put a hardworking, can-do middle-class young woman together with an egoistical, outrageous, billionaire boss, then throw in the worst week of disasters imaginable?Book 1 of the 5 book series A Long Road to Love, named Worst Week Ever.Trent Lancaster spends one month without his Executive Assistant (or as his drivers refers to Carrie: 'Trent's brain, left hand, and right hand'). He's had a miserable month without her at his side and to ensure it never happens again, he intends to marry this brilliant beauty. Only given all the times he's threatened to fire her, he's not sure she even likes him. However, the future of his company and his happiness depend upon him succeeding, so Trent begins a slow one week seduction that happens to coincide with Carrie Hanson's Worst Week Ever when everything that can go wrong does so in hilarious form. (Hilarious to the reader, Carrie is not having much fun this week.)



Trent’s focus returned to Carrie as he slipped his left arm around the back of the seat while leaning closer, invading the little space she had. Her heart quickened. God, she loved his scent. It made her feel— She shook her head. Get a grip! He’s your boss and he wants to see a Broadway show! “Here’s the review blurbs for each.”He leaned in even closer, so his chest pressed against her arm. Her face warmed. Between her near death experience and his cologne, her professional demeanor struggled. You can do this. He’s your boss and that’s all. She breathed in deep, in an attempt to steady her nerves. Unfortunately, she’d fail to account for the effects of a lungful of Trent’s wonderful scent. God, he's intoxicating. She focused on the reviews, needing to distract herself from his cologne. She smiled as she read the comments for Tall and Tiny. It sounded so good. She wished she had the time and money to see it. Given Trent began reading before her, he should have finished and made his decision by now. She steeled herself and looked up at him. His gaze focused on her instead of the screen.“Do you want to hold my iPad?” Carrie knew he hated when people treated him like a child.A faint smile touched his lips. “No, let’s do the last one.”“Tall and Tiny?”He shrugged.She tilted her head. “If you don’t even know the name of the show, why do you want to see it?”He smiled as if he’d just done something very clever. “Because you do. I could see it in your face.”Why would what she liked matter? Then a possible explanation came to her. “Do you want me to go with you?”He gently tugged on a strand of her hair. “Hey, we just went through war together. We both need a laugh.”His unexpected generosity shocked her. She felt like the egoistical sun had finally noticed inconsequential Pluto still working hard to race around it.

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OH STUPID HEART ~ COMING TO REASON ~ CLIMBING OUT OF HELL ~ THE HARDEST LOVE
Liza O’Connor lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels. She uses all her life experiences to create interesting characters, set them loose, and scribe what happens.

        

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reRELEASE BLITZ & #GIVEAWAY: Mountain Charm by Sydney Logan

   Today is the release day for Mountain Charm by Sydney Logan!! I am so excited to share this gorgeous new book. Sydney is sharing an excerpt with us, and a giveaway, so be sure to check it all out!!
   About Mountain Charm: “True love and sweet whispers, till death do us part; Send someone to love my Appalachian heart.”   At the age of thirteen, Angelina Clark followed in the footsteps of her ancestors by casting an Appalachian love spell, which promised she would find her true love. A young Angelina had been thrilled to participate in the ritual, but through the years, her father’s untimely death and her mother’s illness have shaken Angelina’s magical faith to its core. Now, as her twenty-first birthday approaches, she refuses to practice her supernatural gifts and no longer believes in the love charm. That is, until Dylan Thomas arrives on her front porch. Dylan, a Nashville writer, travels to the mountain town of Maple Ridge to unearth the family’s supernatural secrets. While her clairvoyant mother is convinced that Dylan is her daughter’s soul mate, Angelina refuses to see the nosy reporter as anything more than a nuisance. The two grow closer just as her mother’s health takes a turn for the worse. Faced with mounting medical bills, Angelina is faced with selling the family’s music shop to make ends meet. Desperate to help the woman he loves, Dylan explores his own family tree and finds support from an unlikely source. Can Dylan prove his love is real—spell or no spell? 
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Exclusive Excerpt: The bar was the biggest redneck tavern he’d ever seen in his life, but the music was loud and the beer was cheap. Which would explain his present state of intoxication. The bartender offered him another bottle, but Dylan declined. He needed to sober up if he had any chance of driving home tonight. “You’re that reporter from Nashville, aren’t you? Doing the story on Angelina Clark and her mom.” Dylan’s body shivered at the mention of her name, and he cursed under his breath. Escaping her, even in a dump like this, was impossible. “They’re good people,” the bartender said. Dylan couldn’t remember his name. Mel? Max? It was an M, definitely. “Yes, they are.” “Angelina’s a sweetheart,” the man continued. “That ex of hers sure treated her badly.” Dylan nodded. “He better pray I never see him again, because if I do, I’ll beat the shit out of him.” The bartender grinned and pointed toward the pool tables. “Is that a promise?” Dylan couldn’t believe his eyes. Standing there, laughing and drinking with his buddies, was Adam McDonald. They spotted each other at the same time, and Adam smirked. He said something to his friends and dropped his pool stick before heading to the bar. “You look like you could use another,” Adam said, his voice slurring a little as he waved to the bartender. He slapped Dylan on the shoulder. “Look, man, I’m going to give you a little advice. If you’re waiting to get into Angelina’s pants, don’t bother, because you’ll be waiting a long time.” Dylan’s entire body bristled at the mention of her name on the bastard’s lips. He wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t take a moment to consider the consequences of his actions. This was a redneck bar, and it was quite possible he’d get his ass kicked. Then he thought of Angelina’s sweet face, her pretty eyes, and her cinnamon kiss. Worth it.   
About Sydney Logan: Sydney Logan is the bestselling author of six novels. She has also penned several short stories and is a contributor to Chicken Soup for the Soul. A lover of music, she fills her playlist with everyone from Johnny Cash to Eminem. Sydney holds a Master’s degree in Elementary Education and spends her days surrounded by kids and books. A native of East Tennessee, she enjoys playing piano and relaxing on her porch with her wonderful husband and their very spoiled cat. 
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reRELEASE BLITZ: Tendrils by Holly Barbo

  Stories come from any number of places. One could start from a memory, a photo in a magazine or from pondering a news item and wondering, "What if?"This collection arose from that sort of random stimuli. Some are pure imagination of science fiction or fantasy. Others developed from random historical facts or the disturbing news stories of war-torn regions.This is a collection of stories for those who like to think.Includes 4 award-winning short stories."I enjoyed every story in Tendrils! I am impressed with the versatility and well thought out environment in each setting. Obviously good research was put into writing these stories as well as a wonderful gift of empathy with a delightful touch of practical wisdom. In my opinion the last story would even make a good movie!" (Cynthia)"An excellent compilation of short stories over different genres. I was highly impressed by the quality of the writing and her use of words, which dragged me in on every page." (Bookcollecter)"I thoroughly enjoyed this read. I had a hard time putting the book down. Some stories are short, some long. All are suspenseful & of different genre. I am amazed at her extensive vocabulary and her overall knowledge on so many subjects. Her imagination takes you on a great trip every time with every story. None are ever boring. I highly recommend this latest book of hers. You will not be disappointed. Sit back & take yourself on an adventure. You will learn something too along the way." (Paul and Patti L. Jordan)
SAMPLES FROM 5 OF THE SHORT STORIES
The Tin of Honey:Zoe knelt by the tiny trickle of water that seeped out around the rocks. She wet some dirt and caked it on the stings that liberally dotted her face and arms. Zoe breathed a sigh as the mud eased the discomfort. The little girl would be filthy by the end of the day, but she doubted anyone would notice. There was a scuff of sound and Zoe whirled low into the deepest shadows of the rocks. “It’s just me,” came the whisper. Bright green eyes under a messy thatch of brown peered over the edge of the gully.The little girl sagged in relief. Sam wouldn’t tell on her.The boy studied his small friend. “I see you found the bee’s nest. Did you get the honey Robson wanted?”The little girl nodded. She knew the man’s desire for the sweet. He had impatiently pried open the can and grabbed a honeycomb as soon as she delivered it last time. Zoe pointed to the large tin. She stood and brushed the drying mud off her palms as she moved to the container and lifted it into her arms. Sam shook his head at the picture. The tin seemed almost as big as she was. “You got that okay? Both of us have to get back to the work team. We’re late. I’ll see you there.”Zoe shook the tangle of tawny-colored hair out of her eyes and nodded toward the top of the gully. Sam picked up his bucket of berries and, with a wave, disappeared over the rise.The youngster scrambled up the slope. The tin was big and awkward in her arms and she stumbled, jarring the container. She struggled to get her balance. Though she knew Sam would have helped her, she couldn’t allow that. There were consequences if she didn’t pull her weight. Stopping at the edge of the wheat field, she set the big tin down again and rubbed at the bee sting at the edge of her collar of obedience. Nothing could be done about that particular sting. It was just going to chafe against the hard edges of the band. The collar was impossible to take off. All the kids wore one. Robson had found them in the old prison storage room and used them to ensure the orphans did as they were told. The collar was constructed in a series of overlapping metal flakes. It reminded her of the scales of the snake she had seen near the compound last week.With a sigh, she squatted down and wrapped her skinny arms around the tin. She got the weight balanced and started through the waving grass. Running was impossible, but she hurried the best she could. Sam was far in the distance and would reach the other orphans probably ten minutes ahead of her.A Crystal Snowflake:Orion gave a quick scan of the room. He needed to make sure he had everything important. His backpack was stuffed and the computer case held so much that there were edges of paper sticking out of it in a haphazard manner. The slender young man slung the strap of the computer bag over his shoulder, grabbed the backpack and headed for the front door. His hand paused as he reached for the knob and he looked out the window.It was dark and he could see the snow falling through the street lights. There didn’t seem to be anyone about, so he slipped from the house and walked casually to his trusty old Chevy, his breath coming out in rapid visible puffs. The nonchalance was an act. He wanted anyone watching to assume he was going to M.I.T. to get in some late night work. He scanned the shadows, hoping that no one was there. He threw his backpack on the passenger seat then wedged the computer case between it and the seat back. He wanted both within easy reach. Once buckled in, he allowed his nervousness to slip out and thoroughly checked the view from his mirrors.He eased onto the street and when there was no sign of his tires slipping, increased his speed. Orion reached into the pocket of the backpack for the pre-paid phone that he’d picked up when he determined his cell had been tapped. At the stop sign, he punched in a number. The snow flurries were increasing and he switched on the wipers. Orion waited for his friend to pick up.He smiled when he heard her voice and responded by saying, “I’m on my way and no one is following me. Just in case, I sent instructions to our safe place. Don’t worry about retrieving the envelope unless I don’t get there by morning. Okay. Gotta go. I’ll be at your door for breakfast with your favorite croissants. Have the coffee brewed.”Orion laughed at the response. “Okay. I need to concentrate on driving in this stuff. See you soon, Chayse. Bye.”Beyond the stop sign, the road sloped to a picturesque country bridge, one of many that dotted the New England states. He had to admit it was beautiful in the snowfall but with the driving conditions worsening, he focused on how the car responded to his small adjustments in steering. In the weak light, he didn’t notice the watcher standing in the shelter of some trees on the far side of the road. The muffled figure took a box out of his pocket, pointed it at the car and pushed a button. The loud sibilant schwuff of the slush hitting the car’s undercarriage drowned out the pop.Without any warning, Orion’s power steering quit. Working to compensate on the slick road, he fought to correct the fish-tailing motion of the car. “Shit!” He tapped the brakes and was horrified as his foot went all the way to the floor.Fighting the wheel and the momentum of the old Chevy on the slippery surface became his entire focus…and he was losing. He tried gearing down and applying the emergency brake, but the car went into a spin and he caught a glimpse of the bridge railing coming up too fast. “Shit!” The car broke through the wooden barrier and sailed into the darkness over the side.Octopus’s Garden:“Come on, Allie, wake up! Your fever’s broken and we’ve got to get out of here. They plan to kill you!”A girl with big dark eyes looked over her shoulder from the look-out position near the hallway. “Shh! Keep it down, Mitch! See if you can get her upright. She’s going to be worthless until she gets some fluid and one of those energy bars inside her.”He lifted the pale girl to the edge of the bed and propping her up, touched a glass of water to her lips. “Allison, take a sip. Open your eyes and look at me. I need you to pay attention.”The weak girl made a protesting sound but took a sip of water. Her eyelids fluttered. “Where am I?”Sensing his building impatience, the girl at the door whispered sharply, “Tell her and get her to eat the bar!”“All right, all right, Pilar!” Mitch returned his focus to Allie. “Can you hear me? I’ll tell you but not until you take a bite. The food will help you feel more like yourself.”With her eyes still closed, Allison chewed. “Answers now!”“We’re in the medical research pod of Oceania Four, the Underwater Habitat west of California. A hundred and twenty of us were recruited to help the scientists find ways for humans to adapt to living and working for long periods of time underwater. Do you remember any of this?”Half of the bar was gone and Allison was sitting up on her own. “Vaguely. Keep talking.”“We came here to work in the labs. Our college debt would be forgiven and we were guaranteed research jobs.” “So…I got sick?” The bar was gone and Allie started on the second. She could focus now and was looking around the dimly lit room as she listened.“We all did. It turns out we’ve been guinea pigs for their gene manipulation experiments.”“Oh shit. Give me the bottom line.” Allison slipped off the bed and onto her feet. Shaking a little, she reached for the glass of water and a third of the highly-efficient power bars.“Forty-nine died screaming in agony. Thirty-four mutated into…things beyond nightmares. Eighteen of us made it through the fever and were lucky enough to wake at night and slip out of the facility between security shifts. We’ve come back for you but we’re nearly out of time. There are eighteen remaining and they’re all in beds in this ward, desperately ill. They’ll not get a chance to win or lose their personal battle in the cellular war. We’ve learned the decision’s been made to do a major cover-up and ‘sanitize’ this facility. They plan to euthanize all their test subjects in the morning. That means us if we’re caught!” The Ball:Baakir slept curled against his little brother in the dusty darkness. He woke as his mother touched his shoulder. “We must go. Now!” The boy didn’t question but rose from the sleep mat and waking his brother, lifted the child to his feet. There were sounds from the end of the village: a cacophony of harsh shouts and screams. He took Azizi’s hand and hurried to the doorway where his mother crouched, peering out. The flickering firelight from burning huts glinted on her face and the wire jewelry around her neck. There were shadowed figures moving around the far huts.“Stay low and follow me.” She looked at her sons to see if they understood.Both boys nodded.Slipping a bundle onto her back, Kofi melted into the blackness. Baakir was close enough to touch her skirt but didn’t loosen his grip on little Azizi’s hand. The three became part of the moonless night as they dashed for the depression of the wadi and the deep grass beyond. Each knew they could be discovered at any second!They were going to the safety of Kofi’s old village. It was isolated in a remote region of the country and away from most of the fighting. The journey would be dangerous but staying was certain death. Baakir heard the throaty grourff of a hunting lion in the distance to his left and swinging little Azizi onto his back, quickened his pace.At dawn, they hollowed a place in the tall grass. Azizi slid off his back as Baakir sank to his knees. Within minutes both little boys were curled up and sound asleep, the tears on Azizi’s cheeks drying to leave salt trails, which glistened in the morning light.The Heart of a Shadow:Giselle came to awareness with a confusion of pebbles and dust pelting her. A stench of concrete powder, burnt plastic, acetone and something she couldn’t place overwhelmed and made her cough. Elle lay disoriented, wondering where she was…what had happened?The last thing she remembered was walking through the village. The stalls in the open air market were closing for the day. Elle exchanged cheerful banter with the merchants as they gathered their goods and earnings, preparing to go home and spend an evening with their families. She’d grinned at the antics of the flower seller’s daughter who’d been mischievously peeking through the cheerful yellow blossoms. Charmed, Elle had taken her picture. The child’s bubbling laughter was so contagious that several shoppers had stopped just so they could share in the merriment. Abruptly, there was a flash of bright light and the world exploded.***At first Elle could only hear the patter of falling debris. The young woman tried to raise her hand to brush the grit out of her eyes. Her body was sluggish and it was a few moments before she managed to touch her face. Elle’s fingertips brushed against painful areas and her hand came away sticky. She was alarmed to see blood smearing her dusty hands.With a small groan, she turned her head. Chunks of bricks, concrete and boards littered the street. Shock and denial froze her body and took her breath. The beautiful little girl from the flower stall lay broken and still not eight feet away, tossed against the cobbles like a lost doll. Elle stretched her arm toward the child in desperate supplication, beseeching the little girl to blink or move, but it was too late. The muscles in the young woman’s face and chest contracted painfully in grief as she drew in a shuddering breath and began to cry in wrenching bursts.The sound of running feet and shouts filled her ears. A young man knelt beside her. Efficient hands ran over her, searching for injuries. He leaned low and placed his cheek against hers, making soothing sounds between his questions as her body wracked with sobs. Finding nothing broken, he lifted her to lean against his chest. Water sloshed and a woman’s soothing hands gently washed the cuts on her face. Gradually, Elle’s breathing settled enough for her to answer.“I’m Giselle Bouvier. People call me Elle. I’m shooting pictures of life at the edge of the war zone. Thought you were out of shelling range.”The young man brushed her hair away from a cut on her forehead that a woman was swabbing with antiseptic. “Elle, you are one of the lucky ones. The missiles came without warning from miles away. There are rebels in the hills.”

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Holly's world is shaped by her love of family, the beauty of the natural world and an irrepressible creative drive. She has always been curious and sees life through questions. These four characteristics color her writing voice and her stories frequently evolve from her asking "What if....?" Her tales tend to have non-urban settings with nature contributing to the plot, building discordant themes inside a seemingly peaceful refrain. My motto: Weaving Alternative Worlds with Threads From Today.AMAZON ✯ WEBSITE ✯ FACEBOOK ✯ GOODREADS ✯ PINTEREST ✯ TWITTER ✯ PGP AUTHOR PAGE ✯ PGP PINTEREST ✯ NEWSLETTER

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