WeWriWa: What Must I Do? . . . MIDNIGHT CRUSADER $0.99 S*A*L*E!!
I love the opportunity to introduce readers to the paranormal . . . especially to my first love, vampire romances! It started with a kiss . . . MIDNIGHT KISS, to be exact, one of the first vampire romances to mesmerize readers with an out-of-this world (that being the human world!) hero back in 1994. MIDNIGHT KISS was the first in my nine-book “Touched by Midnight” vampire romance series (all since reissued by BelleBooks). I was the second author to seduce readers with the idea of a supernatural love that started with a “kiss” and lasted an eternity . . . and once they sank their teeth into these dark, passionate books, they couldn’t get enough of them. Welcome to the “Touched by Midnight” world with this snippet from MIDNIGHT CRUSADER, now on S*A*L*E!!
Preview BookAmazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo Books | iBooksPublished: May 4, 2011Length: 228 PagesAdd to Goodreads TBR→ The Excerpt
I’m in heaven this weekend (translation: at a writers’ retreat!) and hope to recharge my creative energies in the presence of like-minded wordsmiths. It’s my favorite escape not only for the actual butt-in-chair time, but also for the chance to talk writing during the drive there and back. A half-dozen (or more) of us rent a house for the weekend over by Lake Michigan and we write – well, we also go out to eat in lovely Grand Haven and we talk (when not at said writing tables), and, laugh and relax. Sigh . . . Just the kick in the creativity I needed to take my WIP to the next level toward publication.
“Tell me what I must do.”
“You need only survive, young sir. Survive to conquer the years, the centuries, however long it takes for you to seek out her tortured soul.”
“However long it takes,” Gabriel affirmed, not truly understanding the magnitude of his pledge.
“Then you will be transformed this very night so you might begin your search in an existence where time holds no meaning.”
He never saw her physically move.
One instant, she was staring at him with an almost hypnotic intensity, distracting him from the fact that the three of them were no longer alone in the room. Shadows shifted from within the unnatural stillness to become figures looming just out of the light.
He heard Rolland’s briefly uttered warning and the rasp of his sword, but Gabriel had no time to react with alarm or instinct. The crone was upon him, knocking him flat upon his back.
(. . . and a tasty bit more . . .)
His hands were gripped before they could find sword and dagger in his own defense. And then came the pain, swift and sharp, at his throat, at his wrists and elbows. He tried to cry out, but no sound of protest came either to mouth nor eventually to mind.
So this was death, this slow, chill sinking into dark oblivion.
He surrendered to the sapping weakness of body even as a part of him clung to the strength of his resolve.
For Naomi.
Good friends, good food, good conversation, and best of all, a good deal of writing. What more could you ask for from a weekend? Hope yours has been equally productive.
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