C.D. Hersh's Blog, page 137
February 2, 2017
Friday Features Spinster Suzanne G. Rogers
Guest talks about
Hot Punch Recipe & Spinster
by
Suzanne G. Rogers
Whenever I’m writing Victorian-era English romance, I will often consult Mrs. Beeton’s The Book of Household Management (1861), for ideas on how things were done. Mrs. Isabella Mary Beeton was the Martha Stewart of the age, writing a highly-plagiarized cookery column for “The Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine.” Her book covers diverse topics such as household duties, dining, kitchens, servants, doctors, and the rearing of children, as well as detailed recipes for everything from soup to nuts. I’ve downloaded the manuscript onto my computer from Project Gutenberg, which makes it available to everyone in all different formats HERE.
Since it’s winter, I thought I would share one of Mrs. Beeton’s recipes for Hot Punch, which sounds perfectly delicious and terribly intoxicating.
TO MAKE HOT PUNCH
INGREDIENTS.— ½ pint of rum, ½ pint of brandy, ¼ lb. of sugar, 1 large lemon, ½ tspoonful of nutmeg, 1 pint of boiling water.
Mode.— Rub the sugar over the lemon until it has absorbed all the yellow part of the skin, then put the sugar into a punchbowl; add the lemon-juice (free from pips), and mix these two ingredients well together. Pour over them the boiling water, stir well together, add the rum, brandy, and nutmeg; mix thoroughly, and the punch will be ready to serve. It is very important in making good punch that all the ingredients are thoroughly incorporated; and, to insure success, the processes of mixing must be diligently attended to.
Sufficient.— Allow a quart for 4 persons; but this information must be taken cum grano salis; for the capacities of persons for this kind of beverage are generally supposed to vary considerably.
Enjoy the punch over a copy of my latest sweet Victorian romance, Spinster.
Staring down life as an old maid, newly jilted Clare flees to a country home she’s inherited from her grandmother. She doesn’t count on clashing with her handsome neighbor, whose gentlemanly manners and education are at odds with his workingman’s image. As their relationship unfolds, however, she discovers the mysterious Meriweather Holcroft is not what he appears to be.
Suzanne’s historical Victorian YA book is available January 31, 2017 for your Kindle at Amazon.
Suzanne G. Rogers lives with her husband and son in romantic Savannah, Georgia, on an island populated by deer, exotic birds, and the occasional gator. She’s owned by two Sphynx cats, Houdini and Nikita. Movies, books, and writing are her passions.
Learn more about Suzanne G. Rogers on her historical romance blog and her fantasy blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter. Also, be sure to check out the website for the Sweet Romance written by Suzanne G. Rogers.
January 31, 2017
Wednesday Special Spotlight The Soul Mate Tree
Announces
Can’t Stop the Music
by C.D. Hersh
Yes, you are reading that correct. We have our new book coming February 15th.
Our book, Can’t Stop the Music, is currently available for pre-order. Our book is number two in a multi-author series entitled:
THE LEGEND OF THE SOUL MATE TREE:
I am old, I am ancient, my purpose is clear
To give those who are needy a treasure so dear.
They who come to my roots, touch my bark, stroke my leaves
Find the soul of their lives if they but believe.
When I call and you listen, your prize will be great
If your heart remains open and you don’t hesitate.
Do you yearn? Be you lonely? Is your time yet at hand?
Reach for me and I’ll give to you. I’m yours to command.
For your trust, for your faith, keep my secrets untold
And I’ll gift you forever, to have and to hold.
An ancient legend spanning eras, continents, and worlds. To some, it’s nothing more than a dream. To others, a pretty fairy tale handed down through the generations.
For those in critical need of their own happy ending, a gift.
For college senior and hippie wannabe Rosemary—Rose for short—a teaching job is within her grasp, but she wants more. She wants love, the kind of love that has bound her parents for so many years. When she’s dumped by her current boyfriend because her morals can’t bring her to give in to free love, she finds herself at Woodstock in the middle of the biggest free-love, music festival of the Sixties. Alone, again. Until a magical tree grants her wish and she finds the man of her dreams—and loses him before she really knows who he is.
Dakota meets the girl of his dreams at Woodstock, but a jealous wannabe girlfriend drives them apart before he can discover Rose’s last name and where she comes from. After he sees a disappearing tree that promises him true love, a frantic search to find Rose comes up empty-handed.
Magic and music brings them together at Woodstock in 1969. Misunderstandings tear them apart. Will two flower children find one another again, or live with missed opportunities?
Book Trailer for CAN’T STOP THE MUSIC:
Short Excerpt:
As they made their way to the festival site, Rose and her friends grooved to the music coming from the stage.
When they reached the makeshift bridge over the road, someone yelled, “Hey beautiful! You with the red hair.”
She looked around to see if there was anyone else with red hair. Then she glanced up and spotted two guys, one blond and the other dark-haired, leaning over the side of the bridge.
“Yeah, you,” the blond called out as he caught her gaze.
Willow halted beside her. “He’s cute. How about him?”
Rose looked away, her gaze landing on the other guy.
He jabbed his companion in the ribs. “Quit trying to pick up every girl you see.” Then he leaned farther over the rail. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s high.”
“So she’s not beautiful?” Willow yelled to the hippie.
She poked her friend. “Stop it, Willow, you’re making a scene.” In spite of her protest, her gaze remained on the dark-haired guy.
He rested his elbows on the rail and stared back at her. The intensity of his expression shot heat into her belly.
“I didn’t say that, just that she shouldn’t pay attention to him.” He flapped a hand at his blond buddy, then tapped his own chest with his thumb several times as if to say, ‘Choose me!’
Does he want me to pay attention to him? Her heart thumped in rhythm to his jabbing thumb.
“Take that one,” Willow whispered. “He’s the real cutie.”
Before she could respond, the crowd pushed them forward. When they reached the other side of the bridge, she looked back, searching for the dark-haired hippie, but the spot where he’d stood was empty.
Just my luck. I see someone who’s intriguing and he disappears.
With a sigh, she continued the trek to the festival grounds.
Can’t Stop the Music is up for pre-order on Amazon: https://amzn.com/B01N9RDN96/
Amazon buy links for other books by C.D. Hersh:
The Promised One (The Turning Stone Chronicles Book 1)
Blood Brothers (The Turning Stone Chronicles Book 2)
Son of the Moonless Night (The Turning Stone Chronicles Book 3)
The Mercenary and the Shifters (The Turning Stone Chronicles Book 4)
Sizzle in the Snow: Soul Mate Christmas Collection
January 29, 2017
Tell Again Tuesday Publishing Future
A blog series where we shamelessly share posts from others that we have enjoyed.
The Future of Publishing
by Maggie Lynch
I’m going to modify my predictions for next year to focus exclusively on Indie publishing—also known as Self-Publishing. The reason is that the publishing playing field is . . .
For the rest of the blog go to:
January 26, 2017
Friday Features Laurel Wanrow
Learns about
Hornwrots
From
Laurel Wanrow
Today readers we get to learn about hornworts and what part they play in Laruel Wanrow’s new book Passages.
Hornworts
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Bryophytes on stones of Patowmack Canal, Great Falls NP
Hornworts…have you seen one? This simple plant is related to mosses and liverworts in a group called Bryophytes, and has been on earth since the Cretaceous period. Mosses are so common they are familiar. You may have run across the ribbon-like leaves of both hornworts and liverworts in a damp greenhouse, but identifying which is which is difficult. My find—not sure if it’s a hornwort or a liverwort—lives on the damp stones of the Patowmack Canal ruins in Great Falls National Park.
I’m enamored with these simple but long-lived plants, so they easily came to mind while I was searching for a problem plant for Passages. I did change a few things to create Aarde’s indigenous hornworts. Earth’s hornworts grow as wavy-edged and lobed thallus (primitive leaves) that anchor themselves to soil or rocks with root-like rhizoids, and extract their nutrients from water washing over them.
[image error]
Close up of a Bryophyte
On Aarde, I made them thermophiles, able to live in the volcanic hot springs. I decided they would only enter their reproductive stage, the sporophyte stage, if the water nutrients were correct. (Actually, that’s true for most plants; wrong nutrients and they won’t grow.)
When a hornwort reproduces, it grows ‘horns,’ which is where the spores—the Bryophytes’ primitive seeds—grow.
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Hornwort-young sporophytes (Phaeoceros sp.)
© B. Fuhrer, Australian National Botanic Gardens’
Once the spores mature, the ‘horn’ dries and splits open, and the microscopic spores are plucked up by the wind and blown to new locations. Some of the spores have spiky outer coverings, like this liverwort.
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Thallose liverwort. Spores & elaters (Fossombronia foveolata)
© C. Cargill, Australian National Botanic Gardens
Once I saw that image, I elaborated on it for my story, making the Aarde species’ spores tough and sharp enough to cut human lung tissue. And, voila, a volcanic planet with a killer plant growing out-of-control for my characters to combat.
Thank you to Dr. Christine Cargill and Cheryl Backhouse of the Australian National Botanic Gardens for permission to use these hornwort and liverwort images from the Australian Plant Image Index.
Follow the Passages Blog Tour (list below) to read more science & fantasy tidbits!
Excerpt:
I opened one of the community notes, then the rest. What? Another two Zeffirites wanted to talk to me. I shoved the papers at Evard. “Look here. You haven’t been blabbing about the hornwort status, have you?”
He raised his hands. “Not me. They have their sources. We just…confer. Work talk.” But he studied the names, his frown growing. “Only half these people are my hires for the fungal project, and they know we’re well stockpiled to mitigate a spore release. It’s got to be some other complaint.”
I pinched my suddenly aching forehead. Zeffir was safe, far from the thermal areas where the hornworts grew, and our elders had emergency plans. So what was causing this level of community panic?
Evard blew out a breath and dropped into a chair at a monitor. “I’ll check the news, but I suspect it’s those bloody new ministers and their damned ‘don’t worry’ stance. That only promotes worry. And not just over the hornworts. I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but my hires plan to approach the Docga when they arrive in two weeks. They’re in a positive tizzy about that idiotic decision to transfer us—Great Grünmann, that’s it! The new protocol. Someone’s heard something.”
I groaned. “What could be worse than a transfer?”[image error]
Blurb:
“Find someone you can trust.”
For decades, Eve and her fellow electorgs—part human, part machine—have worked on the quiet planet of Aarde, beating back toxic spores that threaten to poison the native people. When the new commander halts work right before a deadly spore release, Eve frantically plots to protect the villagers she considers friends and family.
On the run after an ambush, Quinn holds a secret that nearly got him killed. If only he knew what it was. Though the attack scrambled his memories, Quinn is sure of one thing—he can’t trust the electorgs. But they know information he desperately needs to puzzle out who wants him dead, and why.
With the fate of life on Aarde in the balance, the logic of joining forces with Eve overrides Quinn’s fears…and erupts into an attraction that could prove fatal for both of them.
Because the planet’s commander might just be Quinn himself.
Passages is on preorder & sale for .99 through February 5th.
Add Passages to your Goodreads shelf!
Author bio:[image error]
Before kids, Laurel Wanrow studied and worked as a naturalist—someone who leads wildflower walks and answers calls about the snake that wandered into your garage. During a stint of homeschooling, she turned her writing skills to fiction to share her love of the land, magical characters and fantastical settings.
When not living in her fantasy worlds, Laurel camps, hunts fossils and argues with her husband and two new adult kids over whose turn it is to clean house. Though they live on the East Coast, a cherished family cabin in the Colorado Rockies holds Laurel’s heart.
Find Laurel at:
Website| Twitter| Facebook | Pinterest| Goodreads
Below are the bloggers participating in the Blog Tour for Passages. Each stop will have excerpts and tidbits about the science & fantasy, and a chance to win the tour prizes: a $10 Amazon eGC or a sign paperback of Passages. (Giveaway open to US/CAN)
Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway!
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Links will be active on the date listed.
Jan 27: Goudrogen Crystals on Jessica E. Subject’s Happily Ever Afters Across the Universe Click here to read.
Jan 29-31: Thermophiles on The Multiverses of Liza O’Connor Click here to read.
Jan 29: Author Interview with Mia Jo Celeste on Other World Diner Click here to read.
Jan 30: Moons and Rising Waters with Laurie A. Green on Spacefreighters Lounge Click here to read.
Jan 31: Creating a Character’s Home Planet—in a Red Dwarf Star System on Pippa Jay’s Adventures in Scifi Click here to read.
Jan 31: What kind of a book is it? With Kira Decker on Toni Decker Books Click here to read.
Jan 31: Lacuna, a Bit of Realism, a Bit of Magic on Author J. C. Nelson’s Urban Fantasy and More Click here to read.
Feb 1: Resolving your story problems…including knocking out a pesky spore? on Riley Moreland’s Whiskey With My Book Click here to read.
Feb 3: What do you think of when I say “cyborg”? on Veronica Scott’s Science Fiction & Fantasy Blog Click here to read.
Feb 4: The Mystery of Transporters on Heather Massey’s The Galaxy Express Click here to read.
January 24, 2017
Wednesday Special Spotlight Holiday recovery lunch
Guest talks about
Boxing Day and Soup
by
Carol Browne
Photo by imagerymajestic
What is this thing we Brits call Boxing Day that takes place every year on December 26th? Does the stress of the festive season require a violent catharsis? Do people engage in fisticuffs in the street? Is there anarchy in the UK?
No, it’s a civilised affair dating back around 800 years, when the church alms boxes were opened and the money within was distributed to the poor. This tradition of being charitable is reflected in the Christmas Carol Good King Wenceslas, which concerns a Medieval king who takes food to a poor family on Boxing Day (also known as St Stephen’s Day. Traditionally, servants had a day off from tugging their forelocks, and were allowed to celebrate Christmas at home with their families and friends.
Photo by graur razvan ionut
In the not-too-distant past, tradesmen and merchants would receive a Christmas box from their customers. This was like a tip to thank them for their work throughout the year. This custom has largely died out but I recall when I was a child, my mother setting aside money or small gifts for Christmas boxes that would be given to people like the milkman and the postman. We had so many things delivered in those days and I seldom saw the people responsible so that, thanks to my child’s imagination, they became an assortment of surreal characters that still make me chuckle to this day: The Potato Man, the Paper Boy, the Fish Man, and the Coal Man, for example!
Although Boxing Day is a public holiday in the UK (and other countries with a connection to it, like Canada, New Zealand, and Australia) many people prefer the frenzy of the Boxing Day sales to chilling out with friends and family. It is also an important day for sport, especially horse racing and football. Many people go for a long walk, perhaps to burn off some of that food they have overindulged in. It was traditional for the upper classes to go fox-hunting too, but, thankfully, this barbaric practice has been outlawed now.
After the excesses of the holidays, why not try a simple vegetable broth for your lunch? A steaming mug of this with a chunk of crusty bread is both warming and nourishing and just the ticket on a chilly winter’s day. The following recipe is vegan but if you’re a meat-eater, you can add some of that leftover turkey if you still haven’t had your fill of it!
Vegetable Broth
Photo by KEKO64
1 large onion, chopped
1 clove of garlic, minced
4 large carrots, diced
1 swede (rutabaga), diced
1 large potato, cut into large chunks
1 leek, chopped
2 pints vegetable stock
vegetable oil or vegan margarine
Heat the oil or margarine in a large pan and add the chopped onion and minced garlic. Sweat them together until soft.
Add the carrots, leek, and rutabaga. Sweat these with the onion/garlic mix, ensuring they are mixed well.
Stir in the potatoes and vegetable stock. Bring to the boil. Turn the heat down as low as possible and place lid on pan. Simmer and stir occasionally until vegetables are tender.
How about a glimpse into the life of a strong woman while your soup is simmering?
In 2012 when young Polish immigrant Agnieszka visits fellow countrywoman Krystyna in a Peterborough care home for the first time, she thinks it a simple act of kindness. However, the meeting proves to be the beginning of a life-changing experience.
Krystyna’s stories about the past are not memories of the good old days but recollections of war-ravaged Europe: The Warsaw Ghetto, Pawiak Prison, Ravensbrück Concentration Camp, and a death march to freedom.
The losses and ordeals Krystyna suffered and what she had to do to survive are horrors Agnieszka must confront when she volunteers to be Krystyna’s biographer.
Will Agnieszka be able to keep her promise to tell her story, and, in this harrowing memoir of survival, what is the message for us today?
Buy Links
Dilliebooks – Amazon UK – Amazon US
Carol Browne regards Crewe, Cheshire, as her home town and graduated from Nottingham University in 1976 with an honors degree in English Language and Literature. Carol writes speculative fiction, non-fiction, and poetry. She is also a ghost blog writer, proofreader, copy editor, and copywriter. Along with a passion for gardening, Carol is an avid animal lover.
Carol lives in the Cambridgeshire countryside with her dog, Harry, and cockatiel, Sparky.Pagan and vegan, Carol believes it is time for a paradigm shift in our attitude to Mother Nature and hopes the days of speciesism are numbered.
Stay connected with Carol on her website and blog, Facebook, and Twitter.
January 23, 2017
Tell Again Tuesday Rejections Famous Authors
A blog series where we shamelessly share posts from others that we have enjoyed.
Been thinking about…Rejections
by summersrye
Lately I have had rejections on my mind. There is no particular reason for it, no painful angst or sting of a recent rejection fueling it. Just a random thought that popped into, and lodged, in my quirky mind. Perhaps it’s because my mind . . .
For the rest of the blog go to:
Ryan Jo Summers
January 19, 2017
Friday Features New Release
New Release
We are pleased and proud to bring you a new release by Elliott Baker, an exciting author who weaves fact with fiction to create a thrilling swashbuckler that plunks you right in the middle of the action.
Kirkus Review says it best.
“Alexandre Dumas meets Horatio Hornblower and The Mummy in this sweeping, swashbuckling tale.”
For three thousand years a hatred burns. In seventeenth century France two souls incarnate, one born the child of a prosperous merchant, the other, determined to continue an incarnation begun long ago.
In ancient Egypt, there were two brothers, disciples of the pharaoh, Akhenaten. When the pharaoh died, the physician took the knowledge given and went to Greece to begin the mystery school. The general made a deal with the priests and became pharaoh. One remembers, one does not.
The year is 1671. René Gilbert’s destiny glints from the blade of a slashing rapier. The only way he can protect those he loves is to regain the power and knowledge of an ancient lifetime. From Bordeaux to Spain to Morocco, René is tested and with each turn of fate he gathers enemies and allies, slowly reclaiming the knowledge and power earned centuries ago. For three thousand years a secret sect has waited in Morocco.
After ages in darkness, Horemheb screams, “I am.” Using every dark art, he manages to maintain the life of the body he has bartered for. Only one life force in the world is powerful enough to allow him to remain within embodiment, perhaps forever. Determined to continue a reign of terror that once made the Nile run red, he grows stronger with each life taken.
Bordeaux, France
Three men bled out into the dirt.
René stared at the hand that held the bloody rapier. His hand. Tremors shuddered through his body and down his arm. Droplets of blood sprayed the air and joined the carmine puddles that seeped into the sun-baked earth. He closed his eyes and commanded the muscles that grasped the rapier to release their tension and allow the sword to drop.
Years of daily practice and pain refused his mind’s order much as they had refused to spare the lives of three men. The heady exultation that filled him during the seconds of the fight drained away and left him empty, a vessel devoid of meaning. He staggered toward an old oak and leaned against its rough bark. Bent over, with one hand braced on the tree, he retched. And again. Still, the sword remained in his hand.
A cloud shuttered the sun. Distant thunder brushed his awareness and then faded. Rain. The mundane thought coasted through his mind. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and glanced down hoping to see a different tableau. No, death remained death, the only movement, that of flies attracted to a new ocean of sustenance.
The summer heat lifted the acrid blood-rust smell and forced him to turn his head away. Before him stretched a different world from the one in which he had awakened. No compass points. No maps. No tomorrow.
The Maestro.
The mere thought of his fencing master filled him with both reassurance and dread. René slid the rapier into the one place his training permitted, its scabbard. He walked over to where the huge black stallion stamped his impatience, and pulled himself into the saddle.
Some impulse caused him to turn his head one last time. The sunlight that surrounded the men flickered like a candle in the wind, and the air was filled with a loud buzzing sound. Although still posed in identical postures of death, three different men now stared sightless.
Their skin was darker than the leather tanned sailors. Each wore a short linen kilt of some kind that left their upper bodies naked. As strange as the men appeared, their weapons were what drew René’s eye. The swords were archaic; sickle shaped and appeared to be forged of bronze. These men wore different faces and yet their eyes—somehow he knew they were the same sailors he had just killed. René blinked and there before him the original three men lay unmoved. Dead.
For an instant his mind balked, darkness encircled the edges of his vision.
Do not anticipate meaning. The Maestro’s voice echoed in his head. Meaning may be ignored, but it cannot be hurried.
The darkness receded, and he reined the stallion’s head toward home.
René approached the linden shaded lane to the château. The stately trees, their clasped hands steepled over the gravel drive, had always welcomed him. Now they were just a faded backdrop that moved past the corners of his eyes. Could it have been only hours ago that the anniversary of his sixteenth year had presented itself like a gaily wrapped gift waiting for his excited appreciation? The day had dawned as grand as any he had yet experienced, and he had awakened early, eager for the morning’s light.
“Henri,” he yelled, as he charged down the marble staircase and into the dining room. Breakfast was set and steaming on the polished mahogany table. Burnished silver platters and cream colored porcelain bowls held a variety of eggs, sausages, fruits, and breads. How Henri always seemed to anticipate his entry amazed René.
“Oui, Master René.” Serene as always, the middle-aged major domo entered the dining room. Henri walked over to the table and poured a cup of tea for René. “ S’il vous plaît, be seated, sir.”
“I cannot. Maybe a roll and a link of sausage. Henri, do you know what today is?”
Henri paused as if deep in thought. “Thursday. Oui, I am quite sure ’tis Thursday.”
René took a still sizzling sausage from a tray and did his best to fold it within a baguette.
“Non, ’tis my birth date,” he managed around a mouthful of sausage and roll.
“Which one is that, sir?”
“How do you not know? You were there.”
“Well, I remember ’twas after the end of the war. Let me see. The war was over in…”
“Very droll, Henri. Your memory works fine, ’tis your humor that leaves room for improvement. Today is… so… I cannot explain, it feels like anything is possible today.”
“Given that there is still plenty of day left, perhaps you might sit down and eat. I expect you will need all your strength for a day so filled with possibility.”
“I cannot be late.” René gulped his tea and shoved the rest of the roll and sausage into his mouth.
“Happy anniversary, Master René.”
“Merci, Henri.” René checked his appearance in one of the grand foyer mirrors, and then strode toward the courtyard. The time had come to present himself to the Maestro.
René vibrated with excitement. He paused just inside the entrance to the training area. This was no way to face the Maestro. He sucked in a deep breath, exhaled, and reached for that quiet center. The torrent of chaotic thought stilled and that unique calm of intense focus settled around him. His friends Marc and Anatole sported their weapons in public. René had yet to earn that privilege. Disarming the Maestro was the only way, and since that possibility seemed as remote as the ability to fly, it generated a great deal of frustration.
Today, however, might be the day.
Award winning, international playwright Elliott B. Baker grew up in Jacksonville, Florida. With four musicals and one play published and done throughout the United States, New Zealand, Portugal, England, and Canada, Elliott is pleased to offer his first novel, Return, book one of The Sun God’s Heir trilogy.
A member of the Authors Guild and the Dramatists Guild, Elliott lives in New Hampshire with his beautiful wife Sally Ann.
Learn more about Elliot Baker on his website. Stay connected on Twitter and Facebook. Like Elliott’s Author Page on Facebook to learn all his latest news.
January 17, 2017
Wednesday Special Spotlight The Soul Mate Tree
Shines On
Realm Of The Dragon
By CiCi Cordelia
Thank you for hosting us today to discuss our new release, Realm of the Dragon by CiCi Cordelia, Book One of The Soul Mate Tree Series. CiCi is the pen name BFFs Char Chaffin and Cheryl Yeko. We’re both multi-published authors and Senior Acquiring Editors for Soul Mate Publishing. We share a love of well-written stories infused with our favorite romantic genres: paranormal, suspense, and erotica. We are both fans of Alpha Men and the women they’d lay down their lives for.
The Soul Mate Tree is our flagship series. When we presented the idea to Soul Mate Owner and Senior Editor Debby Gilbert, she fell in love with the premise and gave it her professional blessing. The Legend of the Soul Mate Tree is a multi-author effort, with one book release per month, starting in January 2017 and running through January 2018. If all goes well, Char and I plan to do more fun projects, and have some ideas in mind. We already have authors asking us about our next project. Fun!
Once we set everything in motion amongst our authors and culled interest from a dozen interested writers, the project took on a life of its own. Our cover artist, Wren Taylor, is a miracle worker, and created the most amazing cover art, branding the project wonderfully. Then we needed a hook for our project, and since Char used to write poetry, she collected the physical attributes and magical abilities of the tree, items we had already decided upon, and sketched out a poem.
Together, we polished it up, and ‘The Legend of the Soul Mate Tree’ was born:
I am old, I am ancient, my purpose is clear
To give those who are needy a treasure so dear.
They who come to my roots, touch my bark, stroke my leaves
Find the soul of their lives if they but believe.
When I call and you listen, your prize will be great
If your heart remains open and you don’t hesitate.
Do you yearn? Be you lonely? Is your time yet at hand?
Reach for me and I’ll give to you. I’m yours to command.
For your trust, for your faith, keep my secrets untold
And I’ll gift you forever, to have and to hold.
[image error]
An ancient legend spanning eras, continents, and worlds. To some, it’s nothing more than a dream. To others, a pretty fairy tale handed down through the generations.
For those in critical need of their own happy ending, a gift.
For sheltered Lily Kiers, it’s all too real. Her escape from danger, straight into the arms of her destiny.
Thrust into a realm made of fantasy and unbridled passion, Lily faces violent resentment and jealousy from extremely powerful enemies. Amidst fierce creatures whose very existence defy all common sense, Lily pieces together a past she could never have imagined.
Claimed by Kord, Prince of Battle Draconian, their love will not be denied, even as malevolent forces plot to rip them apart.
Realm of the Dragon is up for pre-order, and will release on January 18th
I created some fun book trailers for the project, and would love to share them with you.
Book Trailer for The Soul Mate Tree:
Book Trailer: Realm Of The Dragon:
Short Excerpt:
“I won’t hurt you.” The dragon’s powerful voice held a soothing quality. Then it ruined the moment by leaning down to sniff her. “Mmm. You smell like apples and honey.” To her amazement, that long, forked tongue re-emerged and flicked gently along her neck. Its texture felt incongruously like velvet.
Lily managed to bite back a hysterical shriek even as her lower lip trembled. She clamped it between her teeth to steady it, before venturing, “A-Are you going to eat me?”
Every muscle and bone in her body hurt. Her world had upended itself. Beyond exhausted, she longed for this nightmare to end.
If a dragon could frown, then this dragon was definitely frowning. Its fierce expression sent additional shudders through her, and she fully expected those massive jaws to come for her at any moment.
As hard as she struggled for calm, tears leaked from her eyes when he raised long, sharp claws and reached for her. Too frightened to move, she turned her head away. The thrumming of her heart pounded through her entire body as she waited for the sharp talons to slash into her. Instead, the dragon carefully nudged her cheek until she was forced to raise her face and meet its magnetic stare.
“I said I wouldn’t hurt you.” Then slowly and gently the creature unfurled its tail, the very tip pressing against her lower back as if encouraging her to gain her feet, and held her steady until she was standing securely on the ground.
Before Lily had a chance to run, there was a bright flash of light, then a shimmering of brilliant colors. Her jaw slackened at the sight of a man standing before her.
An extremely handsome, naked man.
You can find us here:
CiCi Cordelia, Writing From The Heart:
Individually they can be found here:
Cheryl Yeko, Where Love Always Wins:
Website
Amazon
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Goodreads
YouTube Channel
Char Chaffin, Falling In Love is Only the Beginning:
Website
Facebook
Amazon
Twitter
Goodreads
January 16, 2017
Tell Again Tuesday Tips for Writers
A blog series where we shamelessly share posts from others that we have enjoyed.
Useful People Watching Tips For Writers
I LOVE people watching. It helps if you are either naturally nosey or you were the odd kid at the back of the class, in school, who sat staring at all the popular kids.
Sometimes I don’t think we appreciate how cool it is to be a writer. With ‘must do activities’ such as spying on people life is NEVER dull for us writers! Choosing to lead a fun-filled creative life was . . .
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January 12, 2017
Friday Feature Developing a Shape Shifter World
C.D. Hersh
Talking about
Developing a paranormal world of shape shifters
Today we’d like to tell you a little bit about the paranormal shape shifter world we created for our series The Turning Stone Chronicles.
[image error]We started brainstorming our book on a long road trip. A sign, entitled Turning Stone, was the impetus for the series name, The Turning Stone Chronicles. We decided we were going to go with shape shifters in part because we like paranormal books and because the title of the series lent itself nicely to shape shifters. We briefly considered vampires—after all they shift into bats—but ditched the idea because Catherine didn’t think she could sleep at night if we wrote a vampire book. They’ve always scared the life out of her—no pun intended.
While talking about what our shifter world would look like, Donald suggested we do[image error] something different. Typically, a shape shifter has one alternate form—an animal, which is more often than not a wolf. Donald remembered a class he’d taken in college where they talked about the three parts of the human psyche, the id, ego, and super ego. He suggested we take that concept, a tri-personality aspect, and tweek it a bit for our books. Consequently, our shifters have the ability to shift into other human forms, as well as an animal form.
As we talked about how the shape shifting elements were going to differ in our books, we [image error]began to wonder about the clothing question our characters faced when they turned into an animal. Catherine had done some were-animal research earlier that revealed hiding humans’ clothes, when they have shifted into an animal, prevents them from turning back into humans. That makes shape shifters susceptible to easy capture, in our opinion, so we decided to eliminate that problem by adding magic rings to the mix—the Turning Stone rings, carved from an ancient bloodstone by Celtic druids. Because of the magic in the rings, when our characters shift into animals their clothing, the ring, and anything else on their person is transformed, too. However, that is not the case when they are shifting into another human form, which makes for some interesting scenes in the book.
We’ve had a lot of fun designing a new and different shape shifting world, developing[image error] interesting rules for our tri-personality shifters, and discovering who and what each character’s alter ego and animal ego are. We like to listen to our characters and let them give us clues about their other personalities. Here’s a hint about the secret Turning Stone Society shape shifters—it’s a zoo out there.
Do you like shape shifter stories? What’s your favorite were-animal? What animal do you think you would be if you had a Turning Stone ring?
Amazon buy links:
The Promised One (The Turning Stone Chronicles Book 1)
Blood Brothers (The Turning Stone Chronicles Book 2)
Son of the Moonless Night (The Turning Stone Chronicles Book 3)
The Mercenary and the Shifters (The Turning Stone Chronicles Book 4)
Sizzle in the Snow: Soul Mate Christmas Collection
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