Sandra Harris's Blog, page 5
June 12, 2014
A Chuckle For Friday
More aviation humour. These are defects noted by one of the air crew, (written as P) and the responses by the maintenance personnel who ‘cleared’ the defect (S).
P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
S: That’s what they’re for.
P: IFF inoperative.
S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.
P: Suspected crack in windshield.
S: Suspect you’re right.
P: Number 3 engine missing.
S: Engine found on right wing after brief search.
P: Aircraft handles funny.
S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious.
P: Target radar hums.
S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.
P: Mouse in cockpit.
S: Cat installed.
P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.
S: Took hammer away from midget.
Sandy
June 6, 2014
Portals—A Fantasy Anthology
If Fantasy takes your fancy, you might be interested in this collection of short stories:
PORTALS
A Fantasy Anthology (mixed sub genres)
Publisher: Roane Publishing
Release Date: June 5, 2014Description: No matter what world you call home, and what your station in life, there are just some paths that weren’t meant to be tread.
Story Blurbs:
Maronda’s Quest by Christy Thomas
The Grand Wizard has decreed Maronda enter the Portal of Life to embark upon a quest of great importance, but despite her Ma’s claims it is a blessing, premonitions of danger persist. Lenox works to prove his worth to wed her, his true love, but it appears a wizard plots to remove him from Maronda’s life forever. To secure their future together, Lenox decides to accompany her on the quest, even if forbidden. He must ultimately choose between using his dragon fighting skills which could lead to his death, or give Maronda her greatest desire. In the end, it’s Maronda who must learn to live with the consequences of his decision.
Mexmur, the Huntress by Anna Simpson
Long ago a dragonkeeper betrayed his charges. To bring back magic, to set things right, Mexmur is sent through the portal. Can she succeed armed with only a poem, talon and blade?
Entrance of Lost Souls by Echo Shea
A guardian to the entrances between worlds, Gladys has been called to bring a little girl back from Fairyland. Passing through the Entrance of Lost Souls is no fun, neither is hunting down a deranged banshee, but what is a guardian to do?
And, is the banshee really kidnapping the girl…or saving her from something else?
Where Once were Hearts by Havva Murat
After losing both his parents, his entire fortune and his childhood sweetheart, Master Bartholomew Battlesby sets out into the wilds of Northern England to make the acquaintance of his only surviving relation, the landed recluse, Mr. Horatio Grimsby who has an eerie penchant for both tinkering and clockwork. But, on finding his relation dead, with a gaping hole in his chest, and the beautiful, but scornful, Miss Evangeline Witherop ruling in his place, Bartholomew learns there is more than one way to lose your heart.
Can Bartholomew reignite the spirit of love and mercy within Miss Witherop, or will he suffer the same fate as his poor, heartless cousin?
Ordinary World by Laurie Treacy
Imagine a new neighbor moves next door, a creepy guy who gives fifteen year-old Amy Silva the willies? Amy wonders what the stone archway in the backyard is for. Her life becomes even more stressful when her family reveals they’re witches. Could Amy’s new neighbor have anything to do with a local girl’s disappearance or be a threat to her magical loved ones?
The Lunatic Queen by Michael Siciliano
The land of Mershinka has been thrown into perpetual night. Their King is dead and a moon witch, known as The Night Queen, rules from the royal palace in Grosnov. An endless fog shrouds the land, killing crops and starving the populace. Cold-eyed enforcers put down rebellions while volksa, twisted wolf-creatures, roam the mists looking for prey. Many have given up hope and wait for the inevitable end. All seems lost.
Two teenagers, Pavel and Tamara, devise a plan to kill Vazya the Night Queen when the moons Kainsk and Seresnya are down, end the stifling enchantment, and bring the sun back to their dying land. But, they need a watch to tell time, a compass to guide them through the mists, weapons to fight off Vazya’s minions, and all the courage they can muster.
Click the link below to go into the draw for a giveaway: $10 Amazon Gift Card & paperback copy of Portals.
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An Excerpt from Lost Souls by Echo Shea
Damien turns to look at me. He’s got large eyes, a thick nose, and the lips of a reality show housewife. The pretty boy of giants. He glances at the dryad on the ground beside me and sighs. “Matter of time, huh?”
I nod.
“Want me to come and get her, or are you going to pass her through?”
In answer, I reach down and drag her to the edge and throw one of her arms through the portal.
He grabs her wrist and pulls her the rest of the way.
I give the giant a salute. “Good doing business with you.” I turn away from the portal and stop. Written in blood on the rocky ground, glowing garnet red, are the words: Want to make some money? V.
I cringe at the whole writing in blood thing (I mean, just because someone’s a witch, does that really mean they’re above cell phones?) and think it over. Could I use the extra cash? Hell, yes.
But, what would I have to do?
June 5, 2014
A Chuckle for Friday
Some aviation humour this week. These are defects noted by one of the air crew, (written as P) and the responses by the maintenance personnel who ‘cleared’ the defect (S).
P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.
P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.
P: Something loose in cockpit.
S: Something tightened in cockpit.
P: Dead bugs on windshield.
S: Live bugs on back-order.
P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent.
S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.
P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
S: Evidence removed.
P: DME volume unbelievably loud.
S: DME volume set to more believable level.
Sandy
June 4, 2014
Thursday Threads
Linda Bennett Pennell’s upcoming release, Confederado do Norte is this week’s Thursday Thread.
Genre: Women’s Historical Fiction.
Release: July 2014
Blurb:
October, 1866.
Mary Catherine is devastated when her family immigrates from Georgia to Brazil because her father and maternal uncle refuse to accept the terms of Reconstruction following the Confederacy’s defeat. Shortly after arrival in their new country, she is orphaned, leaving her in Uncle Nathan’s care. He hates Mary Catherine, blaming her for his sister’s death. She despises him because she believes Nathan murdered her father. When Mary Catherine discovers Nathan’s plan to be rid of her as well, she flees into the wilderness filled with jaguars and equally dangerous men. Finding refuge among kind peasants, she grows into a beauty, ultimately marrying the scion of a wealthy Portuguese family. Happiness and security seem assured until civil unrest brings armed marauders who have an inexplicable connection to Mary Catherine. Recreating herself has protected Mary Catherine in the past, but the latest crisis will demand all of the courage, intelligence, and creativity she posseses simply to survive.
Excerpt:
I dreamt the dream again last night. In the small hours, I awoke in a tumble of bedclothes and bathed in perspiration despite the howling snowstorm blanketing the city. I rearranged quilts and plumped pillows, but sleep remained elusive. My mind refused to be quiet.
As often happens after such a night, I felt unable to rise at my usual hour and remained abed long after the maids cleared breakfast from the morning room. My daughter-in-law, bless her heart, meant well. I told her it was ridiculous to bring the doctor out on such a frigid day, but apparently the very old, like the very young, are not to be trusted in matters of judgment. After the doctor listened to my chest, a studied sympathy filled his eyes and he gently suggested that perhaps I should get my affairs in order. No doubt he wondered at my smile for he couldn’t have known I have no affairs other than my memories and the emotions they engender.
Unlike most elderly persons, I don’t revel in slogging through the past. It isn’t wrapped in pretty ribbons or surrounded by a golden aura. Instead, its voices haunt my dreams, demanding and accusatory. Until recently, I’ve resisted their intrusion into my waking life, but I now believe the past can no longer remain buried in nocturnal visions. It must be brought out into the light of day. From its earliest moments onward, the past’s substance must be gouged out, pulled apart, and examined bit by bit until its truth is exposed. While total objectivity may not be possible, I have concluded that committing the past to paper is my best hope for sorting facts from imaginings. Perhaps then I will achieve the peace that has so long hidden its face from me.
You see, when I was quite young—only a girl really—I killed four people. Two were dearly beloved, one was a hated enemy, and the last was a dangerous criminal.
Contacts:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLindaBennettPennell
Website: http://www.lindapennell.com/
Twitter: @LindaPennell
May 29, 2014
A Chuckle For Friday
I love the counterpose in this joke. Hope you enjoy it!
A blonde was on holidays in the depths of Cape York. She wanted desperately to take home a pair of genuine crocodile shoes but was very reluctant to pay the high prices the local vendors were asking for the highly prized shoes.
After becoming very frustrated with the “no haggle on prices” attitude of one of the shop keepers, the blonde shouted, “Well then, maybe I’ll just go out and catch my own crocodile, so I can get a pair of shoes at a decent price!”
The shopkeeper said with a sly, knowing smile, “Little lady, why don’t you just go and give it a try”.
The blonde turned on her heel and headed out toward the swamps and marshes, determined to catch herself a crocodile.
Later in the day, as the shopkeeper is driving home, he pulls over to the side of the swamp where he spots that same young woman standing waist deep in the murky water, shotgun in hand.
Just then, he spots a huge 15-foot croc swimming rapidly toward her.
With lightning speed, she takes aim, kills the creature and, with a great deal of effort, hauls it onto the slimy swamp bank. Lying nearby were several more of the dead creatures. The shopkeeper stands on the bank and watches this scenario in amazed silence.
Just then, the blonde struggles and flips the big croc on its back.
Then, rolling her eyes heavenward and screaming in great frustration, She shouts out, “Damn, this one is barefoot, too!”
Sandy
May 28, 2014
Thursday Threads
Congratulations to Collette Cameron for her sensual new release, Regency-Scottish, The Earl’s Enticement.
Blurb:
She won’t be tamed.
A fiery, unconventional Scot, Adaira Ferguson wears breeches, swears, and has no more desire to marry than she does to follow society’s dictates of appropriate behavior. She trusts no man with the secret she desperately protects.
He can’t forget.
Haunted by his past, Roark, The Earl of Clarendon, rigidly adheres to propriety, holding himself and those around him to the highest standards, no matter the cost. Betrayed once, he’s guarded and leery of all women.
Mistaking Roark for a known spy, Adaira imprisons him. Infuriated, he vows vengeance. Realizing her error, she’s appalled and releases him, but he’s not satisfied with his freedom. Roark is determined to transform Adaira from an ill-mannered hoyden to a lady of refinement.
He succeeds only to discover, he preferred the free-spirited Scottish lass who first captured his heart.
Excerpt:
“Halloo,” he hollered. “Is anyone there? I’m the Earl of Clarendon. I’m being held prisoner.”
She shook her head, sending him a contemptuous scowl. “Stop shouting, you dolt. It’s but a weasel or a stoat, perhaps even a squirrel. They come in through the drains or gaps where a stone’s gone missing in the wall.”
She motioned with the pistol for him to move away from the door once more. “I’m surprised none have paid you a visit as yet. As for Ewan, he’s away in London, just now.”
With what could only be described as a derisive grunt, Marquardt obliged her and sauntered away from the door. He rested against the far wall, ankles crossed, crunching on the apple.
A muffled thud, as if someone had bumped into something, echoed through the lower chambers.
He perked up. “That was no pest.”
Adaira whirled to peer into the gloom.
“I say, can you hear me? I’m locked in a cell.”
She spun back around.
He’d moved to the door, his hands fisted around the bars. Drat it. She was losing control of the situation. His presence mustn’t be known to anyone other than Brayan yet.
She bent to retrieve the sack. No doubt Brayan had come looking for her at one of her parents’ behest. Marquardt absolutely must not see him. Brayan would boast he’d helped lock the man up. From the sound of the crashing about, he’d sampled the flask a good deal more and was utterly bosky.
“Blast and da—” She stopped as Marquardt’s eyebrows flew to his hairline in obvious disapproval.
Lowering her voice, she hurried on. “Ewan’s expected back any day. When he returns, I’ll tell him I apprehended you. He can do with you what he wants. I’m quite sure it will involve the authorities.”
“Apprehended?” He shook his head. “You’re still sticking to the absurd notion that I’m Edgar?”
He tossed the apple core between the bars. It bounced before rolling to a stop barely three feet beyond her. A rat promptly appeared, scrambling to snatch the core in his pointed, yellow teeth. The little beast raced down the passageway with two other rodents squeaking their outrage in its wake.
Marquardt had done that on purpose, the lout.
Buy it from Amazon!
Connect with Collette:
May 23, 2014
Guest Author Daniel de Lorne
Calling all vampire lovers!
Today I have fellow author Daniel de Lorne visiting with his debut novel Beckoning Blood.
Daniel’s first published novel, Beckoning Blood, was released on 1st May with Escape Publishing. If you love your vampires dark and
bloody, with a whole lot of obsession thrown in, this might be the book for you.
A gripping, blood ‐drenched saga about twin brothers, the men they love, and the enduring truth that true love never dies — no matter how many times you kill it.
Thierry d’Arjou has but one escape from the daily misery of his work at a medieval abattoir — Etienne de Balthas. But keeping their love a secret triggers a bloody chain of events that condemns Thierry to a monstrous immortality. Thierry quickly learns that to survive his timeless exile, he must hide his sensitive heart from the man who both eases and ensures his loneliness…his twin brother.
Shaped by the fists of a brutal father, Olivier d’Arjou cares for only two things: his own pleasure and his twin. But their sadistic path through centuries is littered with old rivals and new foes, and Olivier must fight for what is rightfully his – Thierry, made immortal just for him.
Beckoning Blood is available on Kindle (http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00JD7EYX0), iBooks (https://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/beckoning-blood/id852042874?mt=11) and Kobo (http://store.kobobooks.com/en-CA/ebook/beckoning-blood).
For a free read introducing you to the dark heroes of Beckoning Blood, head to Daniel de Lorne’s website. (link to: http://www.danieldelorne.com/the-boys/)
Other links:
Add Beckoning Blood to my Goodreads to-be-read list: www.goodreads.com/book/show/21459648-beckoning-blood
Facebook: www.facebook.com/danieldelorne
Twitter: www.twitter.com/danieldelorne
May 21, 2014
Thursday Threads
Jessica Jefferson provides us a look inside Taming Miss Tisdale, her sensual second novel in the Regency Blooms series.
A bit about the book –
Miss Tamsin Tisdale believes herself to be completely unsuitable for London life. After a myriad of social mishaps, and the potential ruination of her family name, she’s shipped away to her cousin’s northern estate. Only after she accepts the type of existence Society dictates she must follow will she be welcomed home.
Marcus Winston, the Duke of Grayson, has a lackluster reputation. The last in a dying line, he’s endured a protected life—rank with privilege, but encumbered by isolation. After a brief encounter with rebellion, he learns the devastating consequences of his carelessness and willingly accepts living life from inside his gilded cage.
However, a chance meeting with the brazen Miss Tisdale gives Marc the opportunity to reinvent himself into the man he’s always dreamed of being. But when his deception comes to light, and ghosts from both their pasts threaten to unravel the intimacy they’ve come to cherish, will either of them set their fears aside long enough to embrace love? Or will Miss Tisdale’s stubbornness divide them?
A little bit of the book –
Marc watched the faint outline come across the dense morning fog, becoming more discernible as it approached. The tall, thin figure was riding along at a perilous speed, given the morning’s lack of visibility. He thought perhaps it was some gangly young man misguided in the fog. It wouldn’t be the first time someone accidentally stumbled upon the vast property that made up his family’s immodest estate.
Then the fog parted in an almost biblical manner, revealing his gross inaccuracy.
Were those … breasts?
Marc closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Typically, women didn’t ride alone at such an hour and they certainly didn’t wander unexpectedly across his property. It’d been quite a while, his last birthday to be exact, since his last intimate encounter with a woman—a gift, compliments of St. Regis—so there was always the possibility that perhaps his half-drunk, sex-starved mind had conjured up the sensual image.
He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked back again toward the horizon.
Yes, those were most certainly breasts.
And she was most definitely not a young man. The woman’s riding habit pulled taut against her body as she raced toward him. Her hair was blowing behind her—various hues of auburn and gold, like wild flames curling about in the wind. Then a decidedly feminine voice burst through the morning’s silence, interrupting his self-doubt.
“Oh, thank goodness I found you!”
This was no mirage. She was indeed very real.
And very loud.
A bit about the author –
Jessica Jefferson makes her home in northern Indiana, or as she likes to think of it—almost Chicago. She is heavily inspired by classic sweeping, historical romance novel-but aims to take those key emotional elements and inject a fresh blend of quick dialogue and comedy. She invites you to visit her at jessicajefferson.com and read more of her random romance musings.
http:// www.JessicaJefferson.com
May 14, 2014
Thursday Threads
Today Sarah Hegger gives us an insight into her sizzling historical (medieval) romance, The Bride Gift.
Blurb:
It’s 1153 in the period dubbed ‘The Anarchy’, King Stephen and Empress Maud are not the only ones embroiled in a fierce battle of the sexes.
Determined to control her own destiny, willful Helena of Lystanwold has chosen just the husband to suit her purposes. But, when her banished guardian uncle attempts to secure her future and climbs through her bedroom window with a new husband by a proxy marriage, she understandably balks. Notorious warrior, Guy of Helston, is everything Helena swore she would never marry; a man who lives by the sword, like the man who murdered her sister.
This marriage finally brings Guy close to his lifetime dream of gaining lands and a title. He is not about to let his feisty bride stand in his way. A master strategist, Guy sets out to woo and conquer his lady.
Against a backdrop of vengeance, war and betrayal, Guy and Helena must learn to forge a united front or risk losing everything.
Excerpt:
Slowly, Helena turned and approached her husband.
His large body barely fit in the wooden tub. He sat with his knees almost to his ears. A slight frown creased his dark brows.
Helena dipped her hand in the soft soap they kept for bathing; more jasmine. She rubbed it between her fingers to create lather. When they next made soap she would need to produce something less feminine for Guy.
From this position, his head was almost on a level with her breasts. A feeling akin to excitement fluttered through her belly.
He watched her face as she leaned forward to soap his head, working it through his cropped hair. The bristly ends tickled her palm.
She reached for a bucket of rinsing water. He closed his eyes as soap and bubbles streamed down the strong planes of his cheeks. Droplets clung to his lashes. They were almost ridiculously long and so incongruous with the rest of him. Probably the only part of him that could be called soft.
He dropped his head forward onto his knees so she could finish rinsing.
Guy presented the broad expanse of his back, and she laid her hands across the sun-darkened skin. He was warm under her fingers and beneath the smooth skin, his muscles bunched slightly as she spread the soap. This might be bearable. When she rubbed her fingers on either side of his spine, he made a soft purr of enjoyment.
Her pulse jumped.
“Soft hands,” he said.
Her fingers traced a long, puckered scar running beneath his shoulder blade and disappearing around his side.
“A lance man with poor aim,” he murmured.
The skin on his back was firm, but marked by the scars of a lifetime spent wielding a sword. “It appears you really do fight,” she commented lightly.
For some reason those accumulated injuries and the pain they had caused angered her as well as rendered her sorry for his suffering. Helena steeled her resolve. It was just these sorts of wounds that made him perfect for her purpose.
She lathered soap across his shoulders and down the thick, corded muscle of each arm. Her belly reacted with another odd little quiver as her fingers slid across his skin like oil poured from a vial.
Guy raised his eyes to her face. A slumberous warmth made them glow nearly silver.
Her breath quickened in her chest as if she had been running; her hands tingled where they touched him.
Sarah is always delighted to hear from readers. She can be reached at any and all of the following places:
**Unfortunately at the time of scheduling this post, Sarah had not received a buy link. If you’re interested, the book should be available Wednesday and a search of Amazon Kindle should yield results. Failing that I’ll post the buy link later in the week.
Sandy
May 7, 2014
Thursday Threads with Ellie Hill
Here’s something new—Thursday Threads on Thursday! My time management must be improving.
Ellie Hill presents her sensual, paranormal romance Hunted Dreams.
A woman trapped in an endless cycle of nightmares. A handsome hero committed to rescuing her. It’s just like Sleeping Beauty – except the dreaming damsel is the sword wielder and the hero is a psychic vampire feeding off her pain.
Excerpt:
“The Leeches got their nickname from the way they eat.” Reed’s voice was even.
“They drink blood?” she breathed.
He shook his head. “A little less literal. The Broschi are empathic. They can feel and even evoke other people’s feelings, negative ones like fear, pain, horror.”
“Sun and stars,” she breathed. She got it.
She got it.
“They’re eating me,” she said, and laughed, but not humorously. “These superhuman, psychic Leech people are keeping me trapped in nightmares, eating my feelings.” Her chest felt heavy. She pressed her left hand against it and felt its gentle rise and fall.
None of this is real. All this drama, all this fear, all the pain and anger and malice. None of it exists except in the form of juicy brainwaves that these beings sip like mint juleps. No wonder she couldn’t die, couldn’t escape, couldn’t ever wake up.
Reed’s face was flushed, his nostrils wide. Her handsome hero. For a minute, she hated him, hated that he got to wake up, hated this situation, hated everything boxing her in this narrow world.
Katana glared at him for a moment. “I’m trapped in here,” she grated.
His face relaxed into compassion. Hers hardened.
“I know,” he said.
She stared at him for a moment longer. Finally, with a sigh, she leaned her head against the glass. “Who are you, Reed?”
“I’m a Leech, too, Katana.”
Links:
Blog: http://ellehillauthor.blogspot.com/
Website: http://www.ellehill.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Elle-Hill/155409064486649?ref=hl
Purchasing the book: http://www.amazon.com/Hunted-Dreams-ebook/dp/B00CHUEIIG
Twitter: @ellehillauthor
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