Thursday, 17 December 2015

Fantasy and Paranormal Sensual Romance Author: WELCOME ADRIENNE WOODS  Author’sLinksBlogFac...

Fantasy and Paranormal Sensual Romance Author:
WELCOME ADRIENNE WOODS
 

 Author’sLinks
Blog
Fac...
: WELCOME ADRIENNE WOODS     Author’s Links Blog Facebook Book Series Page G+ Twitter Website Fire Quill Publishing   ...

WELCOME ADRIENNE WOODS

 


 

Author’s Links
Blog
Facebook Book Series Page
G+
Twitter
Website
Fire Quill Publishing

 

Book Details

Title: Dream Casters: Light
Author: Adrienne Woods
Series: The Dream Caster Series
Publisher: Fire Quill Publishing
Release Date: May 2015
ISBN: 978-0-9946641-2-9

 

 

Synopsis (Back blurb)

Mr. Sandman, send me a dream, ta da da da.....Seventeen year old Chasity Blake knows the Sandman is just a silly children's story parents tell their children to get them to sleep. At least she thought it was, until the day a mysterious, light golden sand appeared in her hands during a high school prank that went horribly wrong. A sand that has the power to send anyone it touches into a deep, sound sleep.
Fearing she had lost her mind, Chasity soon discovers the shocking truth of her heritage- she is a Dream Caster. Chasity was never supposed to be raised on the Domain, or what humans call Earth and she is forced to return to her true birth place, Revera – the world of Dreams.
However, in Revera there is no balance between good, the Light Casters, and darkness, the Shadow Casters, and Chasity is caught square in the middle. She soon learns that there is no place for anyone containing both the light and the darkness within them, and the shocking truth that if anyone in Revera ever discovered her shadow self, Chasity would be thrown into the Oblivion – the world of Nightmares.
Dreams are always more than they seem, and this time Chasity is going to discover just how different they can be.


Excerpt One
TWO SETS OF FOOTSTEPS made barely a sound on the rough and weathered wood as they walked across the bridge that led from Main Pacific to the Glands. The streetlights were dimmed  as dusk began to settle and last vestiges of light from the setting sun were fading to night. The lumbering clouds were moving in, blocking out any light from the two moons that shone overhead, even the stars seemed less bright dotted across their velvet backdrop. With his golden dust Graig Chen could conjure and wield anything by simply believing in its reality. If he wanted it to be real, it would be.
The Reverse was the most painful thing either of them had ever experienced, but Liam, a healer and Graig’s only confidant, had promised him that they would be able to live in the Domain like normal Nomads, humans.
Graig and his pregnant fiancé, were fleeing from their home world in secret, having no other choice if they desired a normal life for their unborn child.
They knew neither of their families would ever understand, even though it had been his grandmother who had always said, the heart wants, what the heart wants. How could he have known that his heart would want a Shadow Caster, and not just any ordinary Shadow Caster. She was special, or at least her family was. She was expected to uphold the family line with her offspring,  Graig knew that did not include carrying the child of a Light Caster.
The two lovers could never live in peace, not since the balance between good and evil inside Revera was thrown into upheaval. There were only two choices for casters like them, either light or dark. The balance could not accommodate a person containing both, so for his child’s sake they had no choice but to leave Revera. Live like normal humans in the Domain, or what humans would call reality. He’d found a perfect place, one he’d made sure no one would ever find, not even his two best friends.
They knew about the relationship, they’d been there when he’d first laid eyes on her, tried to talk him out of it, to forget the blonde bombshell that would only cause him darkness and misery, but without her his life would be spent in darkness and misery.
Her silver blonde hair and bright blue eyes had done him in, if only he’d seen the bow that she’d aimed straight at his heart. If it hadn’t been for his love when arrow hit, and for Liam, a healer, he wouldn’t be in his currant predicament; trying to get him and her off this dimential world that most people would call make-believe, but Revera was far from that. It was the world of dreams, and Graig was a Level Four Caster whose mission was to seek out Selene, their only live Somnium. It was on one of these very missions that he had met the love of his live, the one woman he couldn’t live without, and he didn’t care if she had black dust, he didn’t care that she was a Shadow Caster, or what some would call a nightmare wielder. Yes, those horrible dreams that leave you paralyzed with fear are actually wielded by Caster’s, not some grave impression of ones subconscious. They are responsible for doubts and forgotten dreams. She was his nightmare, and a nightmare he was prepared to die for.
He knew deep down that she would would never survive living in Revera and he was unable to cope with the Oblivion, wherever it was. Oblivion was the realm of the Shadow Casters, created when Selene casted out Magdelena, one of the first Shadow Casters, who was the third Somnium, as a consequence for the death of her brother, Darius, the second Somnium. Magdelena had no realm to call her own, so she created Oblivion by focusing her hatred toward Selene, a world that could exist inside Revera, far from Selene’s sight. For years, Selene tried to find it, but as long as the Sodivic bloodline flowed through Shadow Caster’s vanes, Oblivion would never be found by a Light Caster.
Sodivic blood was the key to Oblivion’s secrecy, and Magdalena’s family line. There were many Sodivic’s since the dawning of Oblivion but Magdelena reigned over them all. Graig had met many Sodivic’s on his quests, each meeting always ended up in a bloody mess, and in all the years he had encountered them, not one had ever shown any kind of mercy or remorse. They were sadistic and couldn’t be reasoned with. He had been taught from a young age, if you see a Sodivic, you kill it. That was the number one rule taught to the Level One Dream Casters.
His fiancé was the only one that proved his theory wrong. Over the past century, their bloodline had been busy dying out, leaving her one of the few powerful Shadow Casters left.
Graig would pay dearly for loving her if her father ever found them, and he couldn’t even think about what would happen to the unborn child she carried.
Craig squeezed the hand that was resting tightly inside his own grip as they neared the end of the bridge.
“Were almost there, my love. Not much longer.”
“You’re sure nobody followed us?” Her eyes were wild, searching everywhere in the darkness.
“I’m sure. Besides, they won’t be able to see us, remember.” He opened his hand, just to make sure she hadn’t forgotten what he was, and threw more golden sand into the air, shielding them from anything that tried to followed them.
Then he heard it, a crunch. He stopped abruptly and she slammed into him. One second of doubt was all it took to break the spell, and before he could realized that doubt, they were surrounded by Nimgolians, the biggest and wicket shadow hounds ever imagined. They were veil, and reminded him of a Rottweiler that had chased him ones in the Domain.



Bonus Excerpt
A mixture of cologne over powered me as the four guys stood really close to me. Their hands touching my arms and clothes.
Then I saw the grit in my hands again. It was soft, not like sand, and it had a light golden color to it.
At once the slow motion stopped and I threw a handful of the stuff, hitting Mark full in the face. He crouched and tried to get it out his eyes. I felt more sand in my hand and Jake was next. I didn’t know where it came from or how any of this was even possible, but right now that didn’t matter. As I threw a handful at each and every one of them, a refill was waiting patiently in my palm.
Derek was next and before I knew it, all the boys were coughing and crouching down. Then one by one they fell over, in a fetus position with eyes closed and soft snores coming from their lips.
Clare and Ty ran to the guys and crouched down. Ty felt for a heartbeat, but from the sound coming from their lips I knew they were still alive. I waited for men with cameras to jump out from behind the trees, yelling GOT YOU or something but it didn’t happened.
The fear on both Ty and Clare’s faces were real.
“What did you do?” Ty yelled.
“Nothing they didn’t deserve!” I yelled back hoping he would just back the hell off.
“You’re a freak!” Clare yelled, and stormed at me. More sand accumulated in my hand, but to me, she was still my best friend, one whose mind had been closed by the idiot that was busy running away.
I opened my palm and let the grit fall to the floor. A breeze picked it up and blew it softly into Clare’s face.
She stopped in her tracks, give a huge yawn and lay down on the ground.
Was she sleeping?
I looked at my hands. The grit was gone, there weren’t even traces of it inside my palm, nothing made sense.
“Just go,” Nichole said as she crouched down next to Clare to investigate.
I stood still as a statue trying to process what was happening to me.
“Chasity!” Nichole yelled again. “Go!”
I  looked down at Nichole. My legs finally started to move into the direction of home, and grabbed my backpack that had fallen on the turf.
I reached the city of Chicago fast and almost ran into a police office that was chatting to one of the waiters. Guilt over what I’d just done was evident on my face so I ran in another direction.
“Hey, you there, stop!” He yelled.
 I didn’t listen and he chased me for a couple of blocks but he had probably had one too many donuts on a daily base and couldn’t keep up. I took so many turns down back alleys that when I finally stopped I had no idea where I was.
I breathed hard, trying to catch my breath and looked back at my hands. The was still no trace of the grit. It had just vanished. My heart beat fast again and cold sweat dripped from my temple as flashes of ogre-like bodies, almost the entire football team, falling down right after I threw the grit at them came to mind. Coach was not going to like this, and how was I going to explain any of it to anybody?
What the hell did I just do? I glanced at my hands one more time. What the hell was happening to me?





PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT

Thursday, 10 December 2015




Today I would like to welcome Paranormal author - Daisy Banks to my Blog. 

Thank you for joining us Daisy


Daisy Banks writes both sweet and spicy romance in the Historical, Paranormal and Fantasy genres. Her focus is to offer the best tale she can to readers. Daisy is married, with two grown up sons. Antiques and collecting entertain Daisy when she isn’t writing. There are also some rare occasions she makes a meal that doesn’t stick to the pan



Serving the Serpent will be available from Liquid Silver Books on 23rd of November 2015

Blurb
In Wales, Ceridwyn takes up her inherited duty to care for the dragons in the mountains. Awed by them and the huge book about them, she is determined to prove her worth.
Far away in Norway, Leif has growing concerns for his sick dragon. He discovers only one cure will stop his dragon’s suffering. The mighty Herensuge must journey to find his bonded mate.
When they meet, Ceri and Leif make combined efforts to aid the dragons and discover an astonishing surprise. The great lore book each of them protects tells they have a responsibility to the future. At this rare and magical time, not only the dragon pairing must occur.
Join Ceri and Leif as they work to keep the sworn silence and keep the dragons safe. Friendship is growing between them, but will it be enough? Can love blossom between two chosen to serve the serpent?


Excerpt.

Ceri said a swift, silent prayer and ducked into the cave mouth. Here, she undid the belt at her hips so her robes hung smooth as they should, and she slid off her Wellington boots. From this entrance, she’d tread barefoot over the chilly surface of the compacted pale clay and raw quartz pebbles of the path. Along and down, she searched with her fingers over the cold and damp rock wall, feeling her way down. She descended deeper into the gloom and passed the low-hanging lump of granite Mam always called Lizzie’s Pap. The darkness now complete, her stomach rolling and her breathing rapid, she heard the echo of Mam’s instructions in her mind as she stepped for the first time onto the gravel-edged shore where the dark waters of the Jet Llyn joined her world to that of her new charges. She counted four paces forward. Blind for now, she stretched out her right arm and felt about in the darkness until she found the thick branch of wood holding the torch she needed to light.
Tiny pebbles stuck under her toes. The nip in the air sent a shiver over her as she set her willow wand down, and with her fingers a bit shaky, she struck the match to light the moss wound around the top of the pole wedged into the gravel. The torch flared. The dry stalks, which must be replaced each visit here, took easily and burned up bright. She breathed out in a rush of relief. So far, everything was as it should be. A fresh rash of trembles raised gooseflesh all down her arms and not because of the chill in the cavern.
Ceri picked up her wand and lifted the lit torch. She carried the light in front of her in her left hand until she reached the scrap of gritty beach with its short rock causeway that projected forward like a finger reaching out toward the middle of the deep water. Here, she held the torch shoulder high so the light glittered and reflected as in a mirror off the depths of the Jet Llyn. In her other hand, she held the quartz-crystal-tipped rod, and pointing it, she positioned the clear stone on her wand so it hovered over the still dark surface.
She swallowed, gave a little quiver, forced down her apprehension, and sucked in a breath.
Beneath the quartz point of her rod, illuminated by the bright torchlight, a single fat bubble rose. The water rippled. Stronger circular movements followed until small waves lapped at the shore inches from where she curled her toes so they gripped into the stones. An itch tickled in her palm, but she kept the rod steady.
Just as Mam said, they were coming for her.
The dragons were coming.




Find Daisy banks here:
Twitter @DaisyBanks16
Facebook http://on.fb.me/18iRC35       

Buy Links
Barnes and Noble  http://bit.ly/1NWh8gi
Daisy Banks is the author of:
Christmas Carols
Marked for Magic
To Eternity

A Perfect Match
Timeless
Valentine Wishes
A Gentleman’s Folly
Your Heart My Soul
Fiona’s Wish
A Matter of Some Scandal
Daisy Banks writes a regular monthly story in the Sexy to Go compilations.



PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT

Thursday, 3 December 2015

Today I would like to welcome, author Margo Bond collins to my Blog to talk about her Paranormal novel

Sanguinary,
A Night Shift Novel


Blurb:

Detective Cami Davis and her sexy, cowboy-turned-vampire informant are all that’s standing between humanity and monsters who would rule the world—and all that’s standing between them having a torrid love affair is the fact that he’s an enemy of humanity.

THROUGH DARKEST TEMPTATION

When Dallas police detective Cami Davis joined the city’s vampire unit, she planned to use the job as a stepping-stone to a better position in the department. She didn’t know then what she knows now: A silent war rages between humans and their supposedly pacified predators, and the vampires are winning. With the clock running out on her kind, Cami will do whatever she must to defeat the “Sanguinary.”

Enter Reese Fulton, a disaffected ex-cop and a vampire. She can’t exactly trust him, but with his cowboy boots and good-ole-boy drawl he’s the perfect beard for Cami’s fledgling undercover operation. Yet playing Reese’s Claimed—a vampire’s personal bloodgiver—isn’t as straightforward as she was led to believe. His bite is as enthralling as his dimpled smile, and soon Cami is wondering which will pose more of a challenge: subduing the enemies of humanity...or her own desire.
_____________________________________________
Buy Links


_____________________________________________
Excerpt 1

“Hey, Bradley.” I beckoned the crime-scene tech, who had finally arrived and was snapping on gloves. “Is that a piece of paper under the vic’s head?”
He bent down over my shoulder to get a clearer view from my line of sight. “It’s tangled in her hair.” He pulled a pair of long tweezers out of his kit and snagged the sliver. “Yep. There’s a word written on it.” We both peered at the brownish, spidery writing.
Sanguinary,” I said. “Is that written in blood?”
“Maybe. I’ll get the lab to run a basic analysis on it. If it’s blood, we’ll be able to let you know pretty quick if it’s human and, if so, what type. DNA will take longer.”
I stared at the woman a little longer. Her dark hair—almost the same color as mine—spilled out around her, matted with dark, coagulating blood. The two bloody marks on her neck shone like black stars on a white background.
Vampire.
I knew that if I lifted her dress, there would be other puncture wounds all over her body, and strange symbols carved across her skin: pentagrams within circles and other ritualistic signs. Exactly like the others. Ten murders in the four weeks since the beginning of September—all centered in downtown Dallas, and many of affluent victims whose families demanded action.
The department had been in a barely suppressed uproar.
I stood up, my knees popping a little. Five years ago, they wouldn’t have done that.
And five years before that? Vampires hadn’t existed, except in books and B movies.
It took time for the world to believe. We hadn’t even realized how to fight back when they’d first shown up.
This victim’s ragged, bloody fingernails suggested she had tried to resist but obviously failed.
The red dress she wore would have originally matched the color of the relatively scant splashes of blood surrounding her, but those stains had dried to a muddy brown, the same color as the writing on the paper caught in her hair.
Her clothing suggested she’d been at the opera that evening, though the manager, roused from her bed, swore that the building had been cleared and empty when she left.
One black, high-heeled pump lay several feet away, toppled over onto its side, the heel broken, as if she had stumbled out of the shoe when it failed her as she ran from a pursuer.
Sanguinary.
This was the third time the word had shown up in the case. The first time it had been left in a victim’s voicemail by a man calling from an untraceable burner phone: “The Sanguinary expects you at the Blood House tomorrow night.”
The second time, it had been part of a to-do list in a victim’s day planner: Meet with vampire admin. + Sanguinary.
I’d heard the word even before that from vampires I had taken down—whispered as a threat, shouted as a warning: The Sanguinary is coming. The Sanguinary will kill you all.
But no one who knew what the Sanguinary was would admit to it.
That’s why I was about to go undercover among the vampires.

_____________________________________________

Excerpt 2:

“Are you looking, Garrett?” the small one asked.
“Maybe.” He smiled at her, his voice playful. My stomach curdled at the intimacy I heard there—and at the realization that my partner hadn’t fully briefed me on what to expect tonight.
“Your friend doesn’t like it when you flirt,” the taller one said.
I glared at her. Vampires should not know more about me than I do.
“I’ll have to see that she gets over it,” a voice drawled from behind me. I whipped my head around in time to see a man standing up from a barstool behind me. I hadn’t even noticed he was there.
God knows how I could have missed him.
He wore jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt. He had on dark brown cowboy boots, and as he turned away from the bar, he picked up a black felt cowboy hat from the seat next to him, placing it on his head. On anyone else, I might have assumed that the hats and boots were an affectation. On him, they looked perfect. He was utterly beautiful, with bright green eyes and dark hair that curled down to barely brush the back of his collar.
I am undercover, I reminded myself sternly. Here to do a job.
When Garrett caught my gaze in his, flicking his glance toward the cowboy vamp, it was all I could do to keep from sighing aloud.
Would it have killed my partner to be a little more descriptive when he briefed me?
Of course that was the vampire cowboy I had to get close to tonight.
No making eyes at the informants, Cami.
But damn, he was hot.
“Nice scars.” His gaze skimmed along my bared shoulder.
“Thanks,” I said, almost breathless.
And I am absolutely not attracted to vampires.
I could keep telling myself that.


_____________________________________________

Excerpt 3:

It hit me, hard, that no matter how I twisted it around in my head, Reese was going to be more than just an informant to me. I didn’t know if I could trust him, this cowboy-vampire I had been thrown together with. But something about him sang to me, like a tune just out of hearing, almost recognized—a song of protection and death. And I wanted to dance to it, almost as much as I wanted to escape it.
The department wouldn’t force me to stick it out, wouldn’t expect me to team up with a vampire for anything more than the most superficial of connections.
It helped to know I could walk out at any time.
But I also knew I wouldn’t.
I was certain that Reese would help us find and stop whoever was killing these women.
That’s why I’ll stay in this.
“I’ll tell you everything,” I said to the vampire snarling at me. “But I’ll need your help.”
Reese’s lip dropped back down, covering the fang.
I was glad—it was easier to contemplate joining forces with him when he wasn’t reminding me that he was one of the monsters.
“Talk,” he said.
I shook my head. “Not here.” I spoke quietly. How good his hearing might be was only one of the many things I didn’t know about vampires.
He slid up to the bar beside me.
“We can’t leave,” he replied, equally softly. I had to lean close to hear him.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Mendoza all but dared me to Claim you, back there.” He didn’t look down at me. “If I don’t bleed you at least a little before we go, he’ll be suspicious.”
At his words, the half-healed bite mark Reese had left on my shoulder throbbed once, sending a hot pulse throughout my entire body.
I wanted the response to be revulsion.
Almost everyone who went undercover with the vamps came out addicted to their bite. The ones who could still string two sentences together, like Garrett, stayed on the force.
The others…
The press portrayed the police as bumbling and stupid—and maybe we were. Sending detectives in against humanity’s worst nightmare? We were like little kids trying to hold back the dark with matches, bound to get our fingers burned, and worse, maybe burn the house down around us.



Margo Bond Collins writes urban fantasy, contemporary romance, and paranormal mysteries. She lives in Texas with her daughter and several spoiled pets. Although writing fiction is her first love, she also teaches college-level English courses online. She enjoys reading romance and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about heroes, monsters, cowboys, and villains, and the strong women who love them—and sometimes fight them.
_____________________________________________ Connect with Margo Newsletter: https://confirmsubscription.com/h/d/03A21E5E161401F0Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/margobondcollinsEmail: MargoBondCollins@gmail.comWebsite: http://www.MargoBondCollins.netBlog: http://www.MargoBondCollins.comTwitter: https://twitter.com/MargoBondCollin  @MargoBondCollin
Google+: https://plus.google.com/116484555448104519902Goodreads Author Page: http://www.goodreads.com/vampirarchyFacebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/MargoBondCollinsPinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/mbondcollins/Tsu: http://www.tsu.co/MargoBondCollins


PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT


Saturday, 28 November 2015


Night’s Eternal Vow by Julie A. D’Arcy.

COMING IN A FEW DAYS IN ALL EBOOK FORMATS

A VAMPIRE, CRIME, TIME TRAVEL REINCARNATION ROMANCE. 

WHAT IT IS ABOUT-

Lord Vincent D’Armano, a young nobleman, on leaving his mistress’s house in London one rainy cold night in the 1700’s is set upon by a sensual, vampiress, Epatha, who is in search of a mate.
Many years later, after travelling to America and killing a war chief’s son, Vincent is cursed by a Cheyenne Shaman and has the ability to feel emotion restored. He escapes Epatha’s deadly embrace, although she still tracks him, and re emerges into society decades later only to meet with the very woman that could destroy him, in more ways than one.
Detective Elara Gale hates Vampires after her childhood boyfriend is murdered and she sees a black cloaked figure fleeing the scene.
So when she discovers the dark stranger she is already more than half in love with is no other than the Vampire she is hunting, her loyalties are torn between her desire for Vincent’s touch and her duty to the law.
Lust, Romance, Magic and Murder combine to make Night’s Eternal Vow fast-paced, mission-oriented and filled with life and death issues. Vincent and Alara after battling Epatha in the present are cast back in time by an unusual hypnotist and an arrest gone wrong, and faced with a struggle to stop the Vampiress from making Vincent a vampire, and to save his mortal soul. 





Excerpt


Vincent followed her up the concrete steps of her apartment building and stood behind her as she jiggled the key in the lock of the glass security door. The arch of her slim white neck caught his attention, and his gums tingled. The sweet perfume of her young body, singing an age old tune to him.
What was he doing here? He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her in the reflection of the glass. What would he do if she looked up and noticed his reflection did not fall in behind her? She was so small, so frail. So easily he could break her. Nonetheless, he knew he wouldn’t. Already, he was in deeper than he had anticipated. The woman beckoned, like a siren’s song. Sweet, alluring, her blood would be like honey on his tongue, but the taste of her mouth would be even sweeter, as would the touch of her body. He felt a stirring in his loins, kindling a flame in his belly, which he thought had died long ago with the death of his wife. He should go, leave now, never see this woman again.
He knew what happened to people when he got too close.
They died. 
“Got it,” she said, turning with a shy smile. “The lock is old and tends to stick.”
He gave her a strained smile. It was, how did that song go? Now or never. She pushed open the door and preceded him inside, and he stepped into the foyer after her.
They trudged up two flights of stairs and along a narrow hallway. He could have done the journey in a fraction of the time had he swept her into his arms and traveled at his normal pace, but unfortunately that was out of the question.
 He counted three doors before she stopped, once more producing her bunch of keys. They seemed almost too large for her small hand.
“Would you like me to do that?” he asked from behind her.
She turned, handed him the keys, and moved aside. “I seem all fingers and thumbs.” She smiled.
He fit the key to the door, pushed it open, switched on the light around the corner, and allowed her to enter. When he did not follow, she turned and frowned.
“I thought you were coming in?”
“Do you wish me to?”
“I thought that was understood. You were going to have some wine, listen to Bach.”
“Then you must ask me.”
 Again, she frowned. “I thought… Is this some kind of joke?” She took off her jacket and held it to her chest almost defensively. “If you don’t want to come in just say so.”
He pushed his hands into his coat pockets and remained looking at her. He knew she was annoyed, but how could he explain that a vampire could not enter a domain unless he was invited. He remained silent, seeing a gambit of emotions cross her face.
 “Very well.” She sighed. “Would you like to come in?”
 He released a heavy breath, stepped into the room, and shut the door behind him. Well, he was here. Now what?
She tossed her jacket onto the lounge and crossed the carpet to switch on the heating. “Have a seat while I get something for this headache. I’ll only be a moment.” She disappeared through a door on the left. He heard her rummaging in a drawer in what must have been the kitchen, the clink of glass and the running of water.
He had a feeling she was angry with him.
He didn’t really care. He could leave in the blink of an eye and make her forget he ever existed, but she interested him, so he would stay awhile. It had been long since he’d shared company with a woman, and she had promised him Bach.
A sleek Siamese sauntered into the living room from what he thought must have been the bedroom. At first the animal did not notice him as it stopped to give a luxurious stretch, but on spying him it arched its back, hissed and bolted back into the bedroom.
A small chuckle escaped his lips. Astute animals, cats. Perhaps that was why the Egyptian Pharaohs had favored them above all other creatures. They were good at sensing evil. However, he did not like to think of himself as evil; though he knew through the centuries his kind had earned that reputation, with heinous creatures like Epatha on the loose.
He just liked to consider himself a survivor.
Too restless to sit, he moved to a tall window across the room. Pushing aside the red velvet curtains, he peered out onto the bay. A full moon had the whole of the water aglow. Boats of every description dotted the harbor, a bobbing carousel of multicolored lights, and in the distance the faint black shape of the mountains.
He shook his head and sighed. The whole scene was far too surreal; by the name of all that was unholy, what was he doing here? The woman was beautiful, yes, and reminded him far too much of Annabelle, but he had promised himself he would never again get involved with a living being. He had to get out of here!
But too late.
He felt her presence before he heard her. She stood behind him. He could see her reflection, and at the same time realized, he could not see his. He spun too quickly, crashed into her, and caught her in his arms before she fell.
“Forgive me, I did not mean to be so clumsy.” He guided her so that she faced away from the window and led her back to the center of the room.
“Would you like to take off your coat?” she asked, pulling free.
She bit her lip and looked away, she seemed nervous. And she had all reason to be.  But would he stay? He should leave right now. He slid his arms from his black leather coat and dropped it onto a nearby armchair, and his mystery woman moved across the room to lift a bottle of wine down from the top shelf of a tall oak wood cabinet. She had to stand on tiptoe to maneuver the bottle, she was so tiny.
“Here let me help.” He started to reach up behind her, but she turned.
Too close, pressed to his body in all the right places. He could feel her heart beating into his chest. Her soft, subtle perfume, a mixture of violet and lilac teased his nose and surrounded him, blending with her own womanly scent. He swallowed, fighting his hunger. A different kind of hunger. The hunger a man felt for a woman. Had felt for women through every age in history: primeval, earth shattering, eternal.
His fingers threaded through a riot of dark blonde curls as he held her head in place, taking her lips in a deep, drugging kiss that cried for understanding, compassion, realization, and she answered him with a fervor that unlocked the dark, cold pit of his heart.

Clothes were no barrier as hands tore at buttons and cloth and found bare flesh. He swept her up and lowered her to the rug, then came down over her in one languid move, bringing with him a promise of completion and one perfect night of passion.

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT






Thursday, 26 November 2015



Hello Today I would like to welcome paranormal romance author

 Penny Estelle to my Blog to talk about her book Dugan’s Creek

Blurb
A devastated Heather Stone is driving eight hundred miles to cry on her sister’s shoulder, after her boyfriend of three years has dumped her. 

He needed space!  Our sex life is boring!  You need to find the passion that’s been lost!

“Well, screw you!” she yells, just as her overheated car, pings, coughs, and shudders to a stop on a deserted road by the Arizona eastern border.  Could anymore happen to her?  She grabs her purse and starts walking.  The sign Dugan’s Creek, leads her to an oasis of lush foliage and rushing water to cool off her blistered feet.

The sun starts to set and Heather is thinking this might not have been the smartest move.  Moving shadows and night sounds from the brush lets Heather know she isn’t alone at Dugan’s Creek.




Excerpt
            “Space?” Heather asked slowly.
            “Look…” Steve stopped, running his hand through his hair.  “Yea - space.”
            “No, please,” Heather said, folding her arms across her chest, “continue with what you were going to say.”
            Steve plopped down on the Ethan Alan black leather, no-armed straight back chair. “It’s us, Heather.  We’ve been together for more than three years and…and, well it’s just not fun anymore.”
            She took her Liz Claiborne suit jacket off and carefully hung it on a dining room chair.  “Well excuse me if one of us needs to play the part of an adult.”
            “Christ, Heather, we never go out.  This is October!  We have had to back out of 2 different Halloween parties because you have unexpected obligations.  Don’t you remember our plan?  I was going as the werewolf and you were going to be Little Red Riding Hood?”  He watched as her face turned angry.  “Couldn't you just tell them, 'Sorry, I’ve got plans?”
 “Not if I want to get somewhere in this company!  I thought you were with me on this?” She started pacing.  “It’s all make believe, Steve.  Werewolves aren’t real! It used to be fun to pretend, but we have to grow up.  You…you have to grow up!”




PENNY HAS a newsletter that goes out for new releases or sales.  If you would like to be notified please sign up @ http://eepurl.com/388Xr

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT




Friday, 20 November 2015





HI, to all my readers I would just like to thank M.S. Kaye for allowing me to showcase her terrific book, Clouded, today!

What a beautiful cover!

Clouded

By M.S. Kaye

A Sumerian water and sky god myth collides with a modern high school.
Ayanna is a math nerd, logical and rational, even cold, but Calder makes her feel things she never had before. Somehow, she’s able to accept it when she discovers he’s a reincarnated Sumerian water god. Will she be able to accept the full truth, that the story of Enki and Inanna has been reborn in a modern Ohio high school?
Amazon  ~  Barnes&Noble  ~  iBooks  ~  Kobo  ~  ARe
Add to your To-Be-Read on Goodreads



About the Author:
M.S. Kaye has several published books under her black belt. A transplant from Ohio, she resides with her husband Corey in Jacksonville, Florida, where she tries not to melt in the sun. Find suspense and the unusual at www.BooksByMSK.com.
To receive news on upcoming releases, sign up for email updates on her website.
Contact M.S. Kaye at:
Facebook  ~  Twitter  ~  Google+  ~  Goodreads  ~  Amazon  ~  TSU  ~  Pinterest  ~  LinkedIn


Excerpt:

Calder’s voice was quiet but threatening. “Can you not see she’s uncomfortable?”
Mark opened his mouth, as if about to argue.
Calder added in a growl, “Back the fuck off.”
The silence was cold.
Then a clang bellowed from the kitchen. Several of the girls gasped and jumped.
Calder shoved him the last couple inches into the wall, then walked out.
Everyone stared after him. They let him go, didn’t try to egg on a fight. I had the impression they knew better, like they were scared to anger Calder any more than he already was.
The atmosphere lightened slowly. Several voices recommenced.
“I don’t know. It must’ve boiled over,” one of the cafeteria workers said.
“Someone’s PMSing,” Mark snickered. He looked shaken, embarrassed.
“Wow,” one of the girls said.
“Yeah, Cal’s always been sweet like that. You should’ve seen when we were in the first grade and someone was picking on me. It was so sweet…” She went on and on. I had to ignore her.
The line dragged, and when I could finally see into the kitchen, I saw why. The huge pot looked like it’d spewed scalding water, and several of the women who’d been serving were attempting to dry surfaces all over the kitchen. How in the world had it boiled over like that? It looked more like it’d exploded. The water was everywhere, not just the stove and the floor, but the ceiling, the prep table, and even all the way to the serving line. What in the world is it with this town and water? The school sprinklers went off for no reason on my first day, the snow and rain behaved oddly, and now this.


PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT