Megan Morgan's Blog, page 49

White Light by Anna Simpson

Today I’m hosting Anna Simpson and her cozy paranormal mystery White Light, available now from Three Worlds Press. Anna is giving away an e-copy of White Light, so make sure to comment and enter the Rafflecopter giveaway! Click the banner below for a full list of tour stops.

Anna is also here today to talk about what draws her to fantasy. Take it away, Anna!

What Draws Me To the Fantasy World

First of all thank you Megan for having me. It’s a thrill to be out and about, visiting my first of many blog sites over the next few weeks.

You asked me why am I drawn to the fantasy world?

At first I thought you were asking about my long obsession over dragons, but that wasn’t it. Then I realized we do have the paranormal in common.

Ghosts, spiritualism, séances have always fascinated me. I’ve spoken with my share of believers and sometimes jump if I hear an unexplained sound or rush through the shadowy backyard to move a sprinkler. Real or not, I can feel something hovering in the darkness.

Until someone can explain this to my satisfaction, I am filled with questions that continually bubble up.

Questions like, what if a young girl who was never abused saw other people in her head? When her mother finally had enough and took her to the doctor, would she be diagnosed with multiple personality disorder? And if he couldn’t help, would she be taken to a priest? How would she see the world? How would the world see her?

I explored some possibilities through Emma. She is the youngest and most frightened of my White Light heroines.

I’m lucky. Questions drive me and get me writing. How boring life would be if same old thoughts trucked through my mind day after day. What about you? What questions bubble up in you? What do you do about them?

 

Emma never dreamed of being a super-sleuth. In her mind, she’s more Scooby Doo than Nancy Drew and when her nosy neighbor, Mrs. Perkins, drags her to an anniversary party to solve a mystery, she rolls her eyes, buys a box of chocolates and hops in the car.

What’s a party without an attack on its host—or more accurately on the host’s grandson, sparking an allergic reaction and moving the party to the hospital waiting room. Suddenly, everyone is a suspect. Emma and Mrs. Perkins, along with Great Aunt Alice (a spirit with boundary issues who keeps stepping into Emma’s body like a new dress and playing matchmaker), dive into an investigation that almost gets Emma killed along with the man they are trying to protect. With so many reasons to kill him and so much to be gained if he died, Emma and Mrs. Perkins must unravel the tenuous ties that point to every member of his family as potential killers.

Even if it means going back to the psych ward, Emma will protect her friend and this innocent man. What good is freedom if it’s haunted with guilt?

EXCERPT:

To stay free, I perform a ritual every morning. It begins with stepping outside, where dawn streams through the leafy branches of my maple tree, landing, shifting, and dancing on the flowerbeds at my bare feet. A steaming cup of coffee warms my hands. The fragrant air fills my lungs. I sip, leaving the liquid on my tongue to capture a moment of rich goodness.

My name is Emma, and I need to stay grounded and calm. It’s important for my health, so I walk along the fence and let the cool blades of grass tickle my toes and dewdrops cling to my skin. For fun, I kick a ball of dandelion fluff. Little parachutes take flight catching the same breeze moving the leaves above my head. The seeds float up, and up, over the fence to land on Mrs. Perkins’ perfectly tended lawn. Not a dandelion or mat of moss to be seen.

In a half acre of green sits one flowerbed, brimming with Lily of the Valley. I remember the first time I saw them over fifteen years ago. The delicate white bells could only be fairy hats. Today, the round base of cemented river stone is still full of waxy green spear tips. I don’t see fairy hats anymore. No, now I enjoy the effects of nature—its simple perfection.

Mrs. Perkins does it best. In fact, everything around Mrs. Perkins is perfectly cared for—her home, her yard, her car—all perfect.

But not today. A dark line sits between the jamb and the edge of the door.

A few inches of shadow drives my calm away and prickles the long blonde hairs at the nape of my neck. Butterflies in my stomach tell, no scratch that, demand I find my phone and go next door.

Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not a snoop.

Mrs. Perkins, a wiry old bird, did everything herself. I’m not sure if it is because she’s the independent sort or if she has no one else to help her. Either way, when she suggested we watch out for one another, I agreed.

I’m also alone. It doesn’t bother me unless I catch the flu or something. Then I wonder if I will die and no one will notice. It’s a thought, or fear, I can’t shake. Mrs. Perkins’ house has my full attention, and within it sits the same worry. I’ll check on her because she would do the same for me.

I crash into my kitchen, slopping my coffee onto the counter as I slam the mug down. My phone could be anywhere. My gaze travels from the pine tabletop to the gray marble counter. It’s not here. I push through the swinging door to the living area, run my fingertips between the couch and chair cushions, scan the smoked-glass coffee table through my veil of long blonde hair, and sneak a peek under my overturned book on the throw rug. Desperate, I check around the bowl by the door where I toss my keys as I pass the spiral staircase to the loft. Still nothing.

Down the short hallway, I rush to my bedroom. I tug the midnight blue duvet off the bed and shake it. My pulse speeds up as something thuds on to the carpet. I pick up my smartphone and check the battery. Half power.

Excellent. I dash through my front door, across the lawn and unlatch Mrs. Perkins’ white picket gate. Her shiny yellow front door looks as solid as stone. I follow her path to the back wondering if danger lurks.

I gasp as I near the door. It’s like living a moment in a crime drama. I mimic what I have watched on television and bring up my phone to take a picture. Inching forward, heart pounding, I wonder if poor Mrs. Perkins is sprawled out on the bathroom floor, from a stroke, heart attack, or a butcher knife.

Don’t worry, Mrs. Perkins. I’m coming.

I pull my cotton sleeve over my hand and push the door wider. Her kitchen looks untouched as if it’s sterilized or newly installed. Tiles cool my bare feet with each step. Fear scratches at my nerves, “Mrs. Perkins? It’s Emma from next door. Are you okay?”

Silence.

I raise the phone to call for help.

A small sound carries from deeper in the house. I should stop, leave, and make the call.

Following the sound might be dangerous or, worse, plain stupid. And I’m scared. So scared, my breathing is all I hear over the pounding of my heart.

I’d look stupid if I’m wrong. Ravenglass Lake is so small-townsville, and Benny the bully is like no cop I’ve ever met. He would be no help. Worst of all, they’d call me crazy for sure. I slip the phone back into my denim pocket, quietly open her knife drawer, and pull out a meat cleaver. Armed, I creep forward.

Thank goodness Mrs. Perkins likes an open airy room. Evil housebreakers have nowhere to hide in the dining room.

A small thump like a cat landing on carpet makes me jump. But Mrs. Perkins doesn’t have a cat…or carpet—only allergies.

I tighten my grip on the cleaver as I stick my head into the living room. All is quiet and undisturbed. I enter the corridor to the front door. To my right are stairs to the upper floor. Farther ahead is a hall closet and nook where she keeps a desk and a small bookcase. Nothing seems touched.

I glance up at the glittery ceiling, swallow, and pull my phone from my pocket. The sensible thing is to dial 911. I sidestep for the front door, but in my mind’s eye Mrs. Perkins, wiry but frail, shakes her head. Her arm outstretched urging me not to leave.

Thump, I freeze. The noise is right beside me coming from the hall closet.

Without thinking, I open the door and find Mrs. Perkins tied up with duct tape across her lips. Her green eyes, round and unblinking, grow wide, and her usual perfect curls are mussed. I drop the cleaver. It clatters on the floor, and I pull the tape free.

PURCHASE LINKS:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/White-Light-Anna-Simpson-ebook/dp/B019DHODC6

All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-whitelight-1949539-152.html

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/white-light-6

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28245754-white-light

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Anna Simpson lives near the Canadian-US border with her family. Even though she’s lived in several places in British Columbia, her free spirit wasn’t able to settle down until she moved back to her hometown.

She is easy to find though, if you know the magic word — emaginette. Do an internet search using it and you’ll see what I mean. :-)

Twitter: https://twitter.com/emaginette @emaginette

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

Blog: https://emaginette.wordpress.com/

Enter to win an e-copy of White Light

Leave a comment and follow the tour for more chances to win!

Filed under: Giveaways, Guest Posts Tagged: guests, paranormal

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to all my wonderful followers! I hope you have a bright and cheerful one!

Filed under: Holidays

Open promo post

Because it’s the season of sharing and giving (and maybe because I’m too lazy to make a real blog post today) I thought I’d host an open promo post. I have a fair number of blog followers now, so I thought this would be a good opportunity to get to know some of you better–and for you to get to know each other!

So, in the comments today, you can post:

A little bit about yourself/what you write/what you do.
Your website.
Your social media accounts including Twitter, Facebook, G+, Pinterest, Instagram–whatever you have! I’ll try to follow as many of you as I can.
Buy links for any of your books.
Shoutouts for other authors/books you enjoy, if you like.

Sometimes when people comment with links the spam filter catches it by mistake. I will be keeping an eye on my spam cache today and if your comment gets trapped in it, I’ll make sure to approve it. So never fear if your comment doesn’t appear right away, I’ll wave my wand and make it come back!

Tell us about yourself!

Filed under: Promotion

How do you write a book?

Where I work, none of my coworkers are writers but many of them are super fascinated by the fact I have books published. They ask me lots of questions about my books and about the writing and publishing process, which I don’t mind at all–I love to talk about writing! However, one question I’ve heard several times is really hard to answer: how do you write a book?

If you’re a writer, you know there’s no easy, simplified answer to this. The answer is also not the same for every writer. Writing a book is a very complicated, convoluted process that happens as much in your head as on the screen. However, I want to try to figure out a satisfactory answer to this question, even if it turns out a bit long. So I’m going to try to break it down here.

How to write a book:

The Concept. I use ‘concept’ instead of ‘idea’ here because of that other question writers get: “where do you come up with ideas?” Ideas are hard to explain too, and there’s no one single idea that spawns an entire book. The book isn’t a singular cohesive idea that falls in our lap. A book is a series of ideas: some come from things we see and hear, some from our life experiences, some come from the story itself, and some just show up in our heads. So I say ‘concept’ because that’s the thing that makes up the framework. I have a vague idea of how I want X and Y to come together and make Z happen, I just don’t know all the details yet. The concept is the general idea that I start working with.
Build some characters. I try to sketch out, if just in my head, what some of the main characters are like before I begin writing–their names (subject to change), what they look like (also malleable), their backgrounds, what they’re fighting for, what they want. I often start with a sketch and slowly fill them in with detail and color as I write.
Start writing. This is sometimes harder than it sounds. Start where? We always want to start somewhere interesting for the reader. In the middle of some kind of action, where something important to the story is happening. We don’t want to info-dump a character right away. After all, when you meet someone in real life for the first time, you don’t know everything about them, do you? You gradually learn about them over time. We also don’t want to start somewhere boring or irrelevant. It’s hard to pick a place to start. But once you do…
Write, write, and write some more. Just start writing until you figure the story out and crawl your way to the end. I also get asked how long it takes me to write a book. It’s hard to say. It depends on how lazy I am, if I get stuck somewhere, if it’s really speaking to me, how much time I have in a given week–it varies. Also, that’s just speaking of the first draft. There’s also rewriting and revisions.
Now you have a book! Of course, when you get to the end, it’s not the end. There’s still much more work to do. And then when that’s done, your editor will give you even more work.

And that’s how you write a book. Sorta. It’s hard to explain the magic that happens between your brain and fingers. It’s hard to explain what a struggle it is at times and a sheer joy at others. I say if you want to write a book, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do, and also the hardest thing you’ll ever accomplish.

Filed under: About Me, Behind The Scenes Tagged: advice, creativity, information, inspiration, writing

Lying to the reader

Today I’m going to discuss ‘creative liberties’ in fiction, since I’m currently in a quandary over one in my own writing.

When it comes to fiction, in whatever form it may take–books, TV, movies, even songs (The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald is largely made up)–we often accept that things that wouldn’t happen in the real world can happen in fiction because well, it’s fiction. That’s why we have no problem accepting and enjoying stories about superheroes, vampires, and little old ladies solving murders better than the police. But even in fiction we expect some level of reality–for example, if the story is set in the ‘real’ world, then we expect most aspects of the story to follow the rules of our world. Unless you’re into surrealism, of course.

One of my personal pet peeves is when a random erratic thing gets thrown into an otherwise reality-based storyline. I’m not saying everyone should hate this, I’m just saying it’s my own personal dislike. A good example of this was in the show Sons of Anarchy, which I loved (and which I fully contend spawned the uptick of motorcycle club romances on the market).

**SPOILERS below if you haven’t seen the entire series!****

Sons of Anarchy takes place in our world and adheres to reality–I mean yes, there’s a lot of liberties taken with how the law and criminal activity works, but it’s supposed to be set in our reality.

However, randomly throughout the show, a mysterious homeless woman appears to various characters and seems to have a specific connection with the show’s main character, Jax. In the very last episode we find out she’s the Angel of Death. Like, the literal Angel of Death. If you know me, of COURSE you know I have great love for paranormal elements, but this was one supernatural detail in a show otherwise completely set in the ‘real’ world. The Angel of Death was a bizarre otherworldly creature dropped in the middle of a show about a criminal biker gang in modern day California.

What?

***END OF SPOILER***

Owing to the above, creative liberties should make a story more believable for a reader/viewer, not jolt them out of it. Creative liberties should help move the plot forward, not snag it. They should be invisible lies. Some creative liberties have been used so often they’ve actually become part of our consciousness and are things people actually believe outside of fiction. Some examples:

The notion that an undercover police officer has to tell  a criminal that they’re a cop if the criminal asks. You’ve probably seen this in a million cop shows and movies. It’s 100% not true.
Chloroform knocks people out. It takes a very long time for chloroform to knock someone out, and the person has to constantly keep breathing it in after that to stay out–and at that point, they’ll probably die.
Defibrillators restart your heart. How many times have you seen those paddles used on a medical drama to restart someone’s heart? That’s not how they work. They can only stabilize the rhythm of a still-beating heart.

However, we let a lot of these things go when writers use them to move a story forward. Some readers know the truth and just ignore it, and some genuinely think these elements are realistic. As long as it doesn’t have the reader tripping over the narrative, it’s an invisible lie.

My own quandary that made me write this post is a scene I’m working on in which my heroes have just discovered the aftermath of a shootout in a suburban backyard. However, I need the neighbors to have not heard and called the police, because I can’t have the police there yet. My possible solution to this? Silencers.

Except, silencers don’t work that way (they aren’t even actually called that). Yet, they work that way in lots of other fiction so I’m probably just gonna go for it, rather than ditch the scene or move it elsewhere. For people who don’t know that silencers don’t actually muffle gunfire effectively, they won’t even notice. And for people like me who do know the truth about silencers, well–if your entire suspension of disbelief gives way in my book about vampires, shapeshifters, and people with magical powers because someone used a silencer the way they do in the movies, I apologize.

If Gordon Lightfoot can make shit up, so can I.

Filed under: Behind The Scenes Tagged: creativity, writing

Divine Touch by Kristy Denice Bock

Today I’m hosting Kristy Denice Bock and her fantasy/paranormal romance Divine Touch. Kristy is giving away a $15 Amazon or B&N gift card, so make sure to comment, follow the tour, and enter the Rafflecopter giveaway!

Kristy is also here today to talk about her version of werewolves in her novels–and I love me some werewolves, mmm! Take it away, Kristy!

Kristy’s Version of Werewolves

Werewolves are something that have fascinated me for many years. The idea of a merging between man and beast makes sense to any woman who has ever seen the protective instincts come out in a man. In order to protect the woman he loves, or his family, man has shown time and time again the monster within.

The werewolves in Divine Touch, the first book in the Divine Ones series, are a special breed. Created by the Goddess Noxia to defend her throne, the werewolves are three parts. The first is a man, strong and immortal. Even ripped limb from limb, they will regenerate once their body is pieced back together. The second part is that of a wolf. In their wolf form, they retain consciousness of the man, and mirror the animals of the wild.

The third part is the most ferocious, it is the monster. He bears both traits of man and wolf. The monster responds to only one master, the one who has his soul. In Divine Touch, Goddess Noxia has Zane’s soul and he fights the love he feels for Kate because he is not whole.

Zane discovers early in the book that he has a son. Family is of the utmost importance to my werewolves, but he’s nervous about meeting an adult son he missed out on raising. Imagine his surprise when he learns that he also has a grandson! There can be only one leader in a pack of wolves and it is no different for Zane and his family. The sparks fly early!

I’ve always loved the dynamics of pack living. You have one leader, with absolute authority that has to be the best leader possible for his people. Sure, there have been stories where the leaders were less than worthy, but for the most part, a strong pack has a great leader. Had Zane had the opportunity to lead a pack, he would have been spectacular, though I will say his son does just fine.

One of the scenes that I had the most fun writing depicts a fight scene where Kate sees Zane’s monster for the first time. His big, mean, and scary. He just single handedly ripped the throats out of some pretty scary bad dudes. The hulking mass she finds protecting her scares the bejeezus out of her. She does what any woman does who fears what she doesn’t understand, she high tails it back home! Even though she knew in her heart it was the man who captured her attention, her mind couldn’t process the monster.

That to me is the best part about writing about werewolves, because sometimes they themselves can’t accept the inner beast. They have to journey within themselves to uncover a reason to connect with the beast, and to align themselves until they are one unit. It’s a beautiful process, and I’m always happy to write about it.

I hope you enjoy reading about werewolves as much as I enjoyed writing about them. You can read all about Zane’s story in Divine Touch, the first book in the Divine Ones series.

Finding a naked man where Werewolf bones once were should have let Kate know she was in for an unusual day! Nothing could have prepared her for the discovery that her mother is a Goddess, and that nothing in her life would ever be the same. Zane DeSeville spent five centuries trapped in a prison of his own body only to be awakened by the image of the woman who caused his entrapment. After Kate discovers that she’s the daughter of a Goddess, another bombshell is dropped in her lap. She has to pass three Trials of Humanity, or she’ll be imprisoned as Zane had been, and Zane would be her judge and jury!

EXCERPT:

Zane found himself liking the strange young man. His appearance was something Zane had never come across before, but that didn’t seem to detract from his character, rather it enhanced it.

“Okay look, I’m just going to get this over with,” Cole said. Without a further word on the subject, Cole’s head leaned back as his body changed to a form Zane was all too familiar with.

Zane tried to maintain rigid control on the beast within him. The desire to prove alpha status could not be contained. His fingers shook, the need to dominate drove him. The idea of harming the young wolf made him fight hard to control himself.

It was a heedless battle, but the beast would not be contained. The harder he fought, the more the beast raged. He felt the change come upon him before he could control it. His senses heightened, he could smell the other wolf’s presence. With his last coherent ability, he projected his thoughts out, telling the young wolf to run. The beast was free.

The young wolf cocked its head to the side, looking at the larger version. It dropped down on its hindquarters, extending its front paws forward with its head lowered. The beast recognized a sign of submission. The beast stood over the young wolf and growled. It remained unsatisfied with an unearned submission. Its jaws snapped at the young wolf’s ear, causing the smaller creature to jump back in surprise.

The beast goaded the wolf until it openly attacked. Their sounds of aggression filled the room as they wrestled each other to the ground. Though the younger wolf was smaller, it made up for its lack of size by speed and agility. When its teeth sank into the foreleg of the older wolf the battle turned. It went from a token fight to a fierce battle of wills. The younger wolf continued to use its smaller statute to its advantage.

Each time the beast would force the wolf down, it would find a way to escape the hold. With each passing moment a respect was gained. Respect, however, was not something that was worth losing over. The beast howled in delight as his teeth bit into the neck of the wolf, pinning it to the ground.

“When your pissing contest is over, I was promised ice cream, a movie, and Holland.” The beast recognized the scent of its mate. It let go of the wolf and backed away.

A scream caused all heads to turn in the direction of the door Kate had just entered. The beast watched in disgust as the pale creature crumpled to the ground.

The Divine Ones

Divine Touch (Book 1) Out now!

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Divine Intervention (Book 2) Out now!

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Divine Purpose (Book 3) Out Now

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Heaven and Hell

The Light (Book 1) Out now!

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Stand Alone Books

With This Ring I Thee Trust, Anthology Comfort and Joy Out Now!

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Kristy Denice Bock is an avid reader who fell in love with creating characters at a young age. She lives in Coastal Carolina and is quite the fan of the Crystal Coast. She is the mother of four unique humans who constantly keep her on her toes. She’s the proud grandmother of two, and the world’s greatest Aunt to ten pretty spectacular humans. Her parents bought her a typewriter at 14, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Read Kristy Denice Bock’s Smashwords Interview at https://www.smashwords.com/interview/kdbock79

Website: http://www.kristybock.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/kdbock

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kdbock

Blog: http://kristybock.wordpress.com

Favorite my Smashwords author page:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/kdbock79

Enter to win a $15 Amazon/B&N gift card!

Leave a comment and follow the tour for more chances to win!

Filed under: Giveaways, Guest Posts Tagged: guests, paranormal, romance

The bittersweet ending

Yesterday, I received the final, formatted files for The Burning City–that is, the book in its final form that will be for sale in July. My only job now is to look through them for any formatting errors.

It’s bittersweet, because on one hand I feel a great sense of accomplishment–I have three books now! A trilogy!  A series! On the other hand, it was the last book I had contracted with Lyrical/Kensington. So until that changes, I’m effectively done working with my awesome editor and the great team of people who brought my books to fruition. Do I intend to submit to them again? Of course! However, the next series I’m working on is under consideration with a couple agents, so until I get a yes or no, I’m in a holding pattern. And as for the fourth book in my Siren Song series, I’m not actually done writing it yet so I can’t submit it. My business relationship with the publisher is of course still in effect since they publish my books and the third one isn’t even out yet, but I’m already having withdrawals from ‘the process.’

It makes me anxious, but I know publishing is a slow and ponderous venture. Especially during the holidays, when most of the publishing world takes a hiatus until January. I want to yell at the agents reviewing my work “GOD DO YOU WANT IT OR NOT CAUSE IF NOT I’M JUST GONNA SEND IT TO MY PUBLISHER MYSELF.” But that’s what crazy people do and I actually do want an agent someday, so I don’t want them to back away slowly and then tell all their agent friends that I’m crazy.

I mean I’m crazy, but I try to keep it in my head.

Patience is a virtue when it comes to publishing books. It’s also the reason I will have no hair left on my head come January.

Filed under: Behind The Scenes, Siren Song, The Burning City Tagged: contract, kensington, lyrical press

The Burning City cover reveal!

I have the cover for the third book in my Siren Song urban fantasy series and it’s lovely!

When the smoke clears, who will be left standing?

Tattoo artist June Coffin has another, more hidden talent: she’s a Siren who can influence people with the sound of her voice. But in the wake of a murder and shake-up at the Institute of Supernatural Research, her own powers are starting to kill her. The only chance she has of saving herself—as well as her kidnapped brother and best friend—is to become a vampire. But joining the ranks of the vengeful vamp, Occam Reed, is the last thing June wants to do.

Occam isn’t the only danger June needs to worry about. Power hungry telepath Robbie Beecher will stop at nothing to gain control over Chicago. He’ll destroy anyone who gets in his way—and June’s lover, Sam, is high on the hit list since his bid for Mayor. With the city and June’s heart being pulled in different directions, it’s only a matter of time before the powder keg explodes…and time isn’t something June has much of left. With a city on fire, can she rise from its ashes?

This won’t be released until July 5, 2016, but you can currently pre-order it at major online retailers:

Amazon | B&N | Google | Kobo

They make a lovely little trilogy, don’t they?

Kensington is featuring the cover on their tumblr today too!

I don’t know what to say. I’m overwhelmed and humbled and still trying to fight that Imposter Syndrome so I can believe it’s real. What do you think of the new cover?

Filed under: Cover Reveal, Publications, Siren Song, The Burning City, Works Tagged: book covers, kensington, lyrical press, paranormal, urban fantasy

Flicker by Courtney Houston

Today I’m hosting Courtney Houston and her paranormal romance Flicker for a second time here on my blog–the premise of the book is so interesting to me I had to have her back on her second tour! Courtney is giving away a $15 Amazon or B&N gift card this time around, so be sure to comment, enter the drawing, and follow the tour for more chances to win!

 

My name is Catalina Franklin. And I should be dead.

When Death called my number, sending one of her Guides to take my soul, she didn’t count on one thing. The Guide she sent – He was made for me, and I for him. Pulling me back from the arms of Death, Telor changed my fate – and his. Now we’re left with the question of not only how he’s still here, but why. Will we get the answers we need? Or will Death find us first? Only time will tell…but ours is quickly running out.

EXCERPT:

Every part of me wanted to materialize right in front of her, to take her in my arms and hold her close. That was the type of self-serving bastard that I was. Was, I was that man. I could be different now. She made me want to be different.

“I can’t remember you. I’m trying, but I can’t. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know there is a you, whatever that means. I can feel this abstract idea of a you.” She wiped angry tears from her face and took a deep breath, releasing it in a puff of smoke and wrapping her arms around herself to help ward off the cold.

“Go in the house, crazy girl,” I said aloud. “You’ll catch your death out here.”

Her eyes traveled over me, feeling rather than seeing me.

“Good, God.” She rubbed her eyes roughly with the heel of her hands and let out a cry of frustration. “Look at me, standing in my backyard, talking to the wind. I’m going crazy. I’m really going crazy. Now, I’m talking to myself.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, my lips tilted upward into a small smile. Wanting to soothe her obvious pain, I made a split-second decision. I stood and walked toward her so we were standing face to face, her hot breath exhaling onto my face. I wanted to embrace her and hold her in my arms.

“You’re not crazy,” I told her, sliding my knuckles down the side of her face, taking pleasure in the way she closed her eyes and leaned into my touch.

Buy it at:  http://amzn.to/1K4SHPI

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Courtney lives in Kentucky with her husband (Mr. Houston), her two boys (Emmett and Ellis), her two cats (Polly and Jed) and her 3 chickens. Legal Assistant by day and writer by night, Courtney enjoys pancakes, coffee, wine and the number 26. She’s a Leo, at least that’s what the tattoo on her back says.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorcourtneyhouston

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CourtneyHouson @courtneyhouson

Enter to win a $15 Amazon/BN Gift Card

Leave a comment and follow the tour for more chances to win!

Filed under: Giveaways, Guest Posts Tagged: guests, paranormal, romance

Snogs in the snow!

Today, as part of Blissemas (which I’ll be participating in on December 8th!) I’m taking part in the Snogs in the Snow blog hop. What’s that, you ask? Everyone who participates in the blog hop posts a kissing scene from one of their stories, and does a giveaway with their post. Sound like fun? Read on!

I’m offering up a kissing scene from my erotic romance One Night In Cleveland, which is part of the City Nights series. After the scene, I’ll be giving away an e-copy of the story. Want to win? Find out how after the scene–it’s easy!

They settled into a booth in a dark corner, a strategic choice on Matt’s part. Caylee didn’t object. His gamble paid off when she responded positively to his attempt at making out with her.

Her lips were soft and her shiny, pink lip gloss strawberry-flavored. Behind those tender lips, she tasted like coffee and the sweet cream of her cannoli. This time he could savor her mouth, instead of having to rush—though every part of his body wanted to push forward, some more than others.

She pressed against him, feminine and delicate, yet she had some muscle too. He put his hand on her thigh, finally getting a feel of her smooth leg. She didn’t stop him, even when he inched his fingertips up under her skirt.

Time stretched out as they sat in the shadows, getting hotter by the minute, enjoying the burn. He kissed all her lip gloss off, oblivious to everyone around them.

“This is so nice,” she finally said, the first words she’d spoken since they started kissing. Her hand rested on his thigh, perched precariously close to his crotch. “I have to admit, I haven’t been on a real date in ages.”

“Me neither.” The band was on break, so they didn’t have to shout. The bar was crowded but they were in their own little bubble.

“As bad as this is going to sound,” she said, “I’m really glad I accidentally arrested you.”

“I’m really glad, too.”

She kissed him again, clutching the front of his shirt. He sucked at her tongue, groaning softly into her mouth. This was quickly becoming torture.

“Sorry,” she said as she drew back. “Haven’t done much kissing in a while, either.”

“It’s okay.” He sought out her lips again, drawn inexorably to her mouth. He’d remained a gentleman so far, but when she slid her hand farther up, her fingers lightly touching the bulge in his pants, he didn’t think he could remain one. He caressed down her side and over her hip, tracing her delicious contours.

They broke apart again, both a little breathless. She gazed into his eyes. “I know we’re going really fast,” she said. “You must think badly of me.”

He chuckled. “Well God, what do you think of me? I’m right here with you.”

She smiled. “I like you. I think you’re sexy.” She squeezed his thigh. “I really, really enjoy your company.”

“You want to come back to my place?”

She licked her gloss-less lips. They were a delicate shade of pink beneath. “I really shouldn’t, especially on the first date…”

Win an e-copy of One Night In Cleveland!

All you have to do is comment on this post…it’s that simple! I’ll toss the names in a random generator and announce the winner on December 8th–the day of my Blissemas post!

What’s Blissemas, you ask?

Erotic authors serve up holiday-themed posts each day: stories, excerpts, pictures, recipes, fun things galore. And the best part? The prizes! Every day of Blissemas offers chances to win naughty and nice prizes: books, gift cards, games, gift bundles, and adult toys and erotic playthings. All sorts of sexy stuff to make your winter sizzle. The grand prize is a £100 Amazon Gift Card!

So if you want something hot under the tree this year…stop by and celebrate Blissemas with us!

Filed under: City Nights, Giveaways, Holidays, One Night In Cleveland Tagged: blog hop, erotica, romance, tirgearr publishing