Monday, October 31, 2011

Contest Winners!!


Here are the list of winners!

I have forwarded the winners info to the authors and they will contact you.

Ashlynn Monroe          Chelsea Rafferty
Alianne Donnelly         Shonna

Beth Caudill                eyeballlucy

Christa McHugh         The Brunette Librarian

Debra Anatasia          Mima
DL Jackson                Sondrae Bennett
Felicia Rogers            Arianne Cruz

Heather Long             eyeballlucy

LK Below                   Brenda Demko

Lisa Beth Darling       June M.

Mima                          Amy S
Monette Michaels/Rae Morgan      Jennifer Mathis

Deena Remiel            Pretty Eyes

Rhonda Print              dawnmomoffour

Sondrae Bennett        Sheri Fredricks

Robert C. Roman        Shonna

Danielle D. Smith       steph beck

Megan Hussey          elaing8
Lyric James              heather

Silke Juppenlatz       yadkny

Stephanie Beck         Lulu

Tarah Scott              yadkny

TC Archer                 pretty eyes

Tricia Schneider        heather

CM Torrens              Arianne Cruz
Erika Scott                steph beck

Hailey Edwards       JenniferMathis

Annie Nicholas           mnjcarter

Rebecca Royce       June M

Stacey Kennedy       elaing8

Sara Brookes           Shonna
J. Hali Steele            Eva Flower

GRAND PRIZE WINNER IS    The Brunette Librarian

Congrasts Everyone!

Technical Difficulties

Due to such high volumes of enteries it will take me a little longer to post the winners than I'd thought. They should be up before midnight.  Sorry.

Annie Nicholas

Sunday, October 30, 2011

2011 Blog-a-Thon Closing Ceremony

Sounds official doesn't it. (hehe)

This is where we part ways and say good-bye.

On behalf of the Paranormal Romantics crew:

Annie Nicholas
Rebecca Royce
Hailey Edwards
Sara Brookes
J. Hali Steele
DL Jackson
Stacey Kennedy

We'd like to thank all the wonderful authors who attended our Halloween celebration!

All contests are open until 1PM tomorrow afternoon EST. Then it will take a while to figure out the winners and post them, let's say by late afternoon, I'll post the list.

Don't forget, you can scroll back to earlier posts and enter all the contests. There are about thirty of them. Each comment counts towards the Grand Prize. So, if you commented 5 times you have 5 entries.

Good Luck!

I wanted to CARVER by J. Hali Steele

Gone… all gone.

Years, he’d waited years to prove himself by taking his father’s place, and if his truck hadn’t broken down, he would have made it. Shoulder to shoulder with others like him, he’d have stood with the best of the best.

Clouds covered the full moon casting ghostly shadows across the barren patch of land. His chest heaved up and down, lungs burned with each labored breath of air. He’d run for over three miles dragging the cart behind him. But there was nothing left.

Still wheezing, trying to catch his breath, he climbed the highest peak and looked across the flat land. The glow of light from the building, easily another two miles away, teased him. They’d all be there, working their magic, preparing to be judged. Another year, he’d have to wait another whole year. It was his turn to carry on the family tradition, but he stood gazing forlornly across the patch. His father’s words echoed in his mind, drenching him in sadness.

“We’re better than the best, we’re better than the rest.”

A scurrying sound to his right drew his thoughts back to the present. Still grasping the handle of the heavy cart, he turned, moving slowly down the hill, back to his truck to stow his cart. It would be damn near a fifteen mile trek home. Home to give father the bad news.


Stopping dead in his tracks, he cupped his ear. Nothing. He was hearing things.


He’d distinctly heard the word this time. Following the direction it came from, he headed back up the embankment. Dragging the cart behind him, he went to the right side of the hill and peered over the edge. Air hitched in his throat at the sight before him.

One, there was one left. And it was perfect.

But he’d run out of time. No way could he drag his monstrous find to the judging place and complete his task before midnight. Again, his father’s words rang in his mind.

“We’re better than the best, we’re better than the rest.” A sharp gust of wind moved the clouds and bathed the hilltop in moonlight. Enough light for him to work his magic. Loosening his backpack, he pulled out all his tools. His knives were sharp, his chisels ready for the hard work ahead. Maybe he wouldn’t make the judging but if it killed him, he take his finished prize to the building anyway.

Digging, cutting, shaping he performed his magic, did what came naturally to him.

A sense of calm washed over him as he finished fashioning his piece. It weighed close to two hundred pounds but with strength and agility he’d never felt before, he hoisted his prize onto the cart and eased it down the hill. Years and years of this very same competition had left a well worn, but rutted, path to the building he needed to reach before midnight. Glancing up at the moon, seeing its position in the sky, he knew there was little time left. Running as fast as he could without toppling the cart, he began the trip along the winding path.

His lungs were on fire, air wheezed through his lips, but he didn’t let up.

Turning the final corner, light blazed through the open barn doors, voices filled with awe seeped out, into the night. There must be great works there to cause such adulation. Would his measure up? Was he truly part of these people and did he have what his father had, and his father before him? At least he wouldn’t have to wait another year to find out. Tonight he would know if he could carry his ancestor’s last name.

The clock tolled midnight as he wheeled his heavy load through the doors and dropped to his knees in exhaustion. A hush fell across the room. Standing, he hauled his cart to the circle and removed his prize, placing it in the one spot left. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out candles and began lighting those he would need. Careful not to blow them out, he put each one in place. He stepped back, out of breath and unable to speak. He was last to be judged.

Elders, men who had earned their name long ago, walked around his work, peeking through the tiny windows he’d so lovingly carved. They touched the orange pointed spires and whispered to each other.

“We’ve never seen a cathedral carved so intricately and so perfect.” The head judged looked at him hard, then smiled. “Welcome Mr. Carver.”

Jack had earned his name and it could never be taken from him.

He was a true pumpkin carver.

The Greatest Villain by Sara Brookes

Halloween is always the time of year when I get to dig into my holiday decorations and pull out what had come to be my favorite decorations. If I had it my way, I’d leave some of it up all year long. See, a few years ago, Disney finally decided it was time their villains got their due. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of the princesses and the romance writer in me always wants to see her get her happily ever after. But there’s just something about the villains…

But one stands out of the bunch for me, and that’s where my Halloween decorations come in. The very first time I read Sleeping Beauty, I found myself more interested in Maleficent than in Aurora. No one’s fault really, I’m more apt to be drawn toward tortured and lost souls. I always feel as if they have a more interesting story to tell. So, thanks to Disney’s expansion of their Villains line, most of my Halloween decorations have something to do with Maleficent.

What can I say? It ain’t just the bad boys that do it for me.
Tell me you if you have a favorite villain (doesn’t have to be Disney) and who it is. One lucky commenter will win a download of the winner’s choice of my backlist.
Good luck!

2011 PRISM Winner--Midnight's Ghost

What candy to eat first? by Stacey Kennedy

I loved getting dressed up for Halloween. I mean, really, who doesn’t? But as much as I loved the costumes, I loved the candy more!

Now thinking back, it’s amusing how much time I spent knocking on doors with my pillowcase in hand trying to get as much candy as possible. I remember coming home with a huge bag of junk that undoubtedly would give me a stomachache later.

I’d pour the bag out and it’d look something like this:

My question to you is what do you eat first?

I always started with the chocolate first. Any of the above I would have gobbled up as quickly as possible, and then I would have moved onto the caramels and hard candy. I’m just one of those people that eat what I love first, saving the rest for later, and threw out whatever I hated. Which of course, was hardly any.

I’d love to hear how you eat your candy? Are you like me, eat your favorites first, or do you just dig in and grab whatever you can?

With keeping on the Halloween theme, I’m sharing a snippet from my new vampire erotic romance, SHADOWED SOUL. With your comment about your candy eating habits, you’ll be entered to win a copy of that story to give you a supernatural erotic read on Halloween night.

Also, come find me on Facebook and Twitter. I love to chat!

Four months have passed since Ellie’s heart was broken by her cheating boyfriend, Gerrid. Sick of mourning, she sets out in search of one thing, a man to make her forget. Madame Eve, a matchmaker, arranges for Ellie to meet just the man at Nocturnal Nightclub in Miami. Bryce is not only sexy as sin, but full of mystery. He does things no man should be capable of. Ellie might question his fast speed, cold hands, and even the way he bites at her skin―if he wasn’t so determined to awaken the part of her that’s been buried by lies.

Days have passed since Bryce’s last feeding and his vampire hungers demand to be sated. But feeding is not his only intention. Ellie seeks to be a different woman, to gain power for herself, and Bryce plans to push her to discover it. To show her she can do things she never thought possible and force her to see the strength she yearns for already lives inside of her.

Ellie will have to choose, expose all of herself, or remain hidden in the dark shadows. But Bryce will have to make a choice of his own—let her go or keep Ellie forever?

*m/f, anal, voyeurism, masturbation.



Ellie scanned the dance floor, searching for the man matching the picture Madame Eve had emailed her. Instead, she got a few heated glances from guys she wouldn’t touch on her worst days. So, instead of continuing to search, she lingered taking a seat upon a stool, listening to the bartender and Kenna talk dirty nothings to each other. Why isn’t he here?

After she downed her second Cosmo, goose bumps pimpled on the back of her neck, and she glanced over her shoulder to discover her date standing against the back wall. His gaze focused on one person, her.


“ night is looking up,” she exclaimed.

Kenna didn’t respond, too busy playing googly eyes with the bartender. Ellie jabbed an elbow into her side. She hissed as she rubbed her ribs. “Ow, what?”

“He’s here. I’m going to dance.” She gestured behind her and grinned to show her intentions.

Kenna peeked over her shoulder before focusing back on Ellie and giving a shit-eating grin. “Have fun.”

Ellie slid off the stool, keeping her focus on the stranger. His mere presence screamed sex. Much taller than her five-foot-five frame—around six-two—but built like a brick shit house. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders tempting her and she couldn’t wait to run her hands over them tonight.

Putting a little oomph into her step, she made her way onto the dance floor. The loud techno song washed over her and the vibrations were strong against her feet. Her kinda music—hard and dirty.

Staying at the edge of the crowd, she found her beat and moved with the rhythm. Twirling, she ran her hands along her torso and did anything and everything to gain his attention.

To all appearances, her plan worked.

He dropped his arms to his side and stepped forward. His sparkling blue eyes, short, fashionably-styled black hair, and chiseled features warmed her right down to her toes. Her heart raced. Her insecurities drifted away. The world around her ceased to exist, leaving only him and her.

Wetness pooled in her panties. His nostrils flared and his heated gaze burned deeper. He approached and as he settled in front of her, he grabbed her lower back and yanked her against his hard body. Her head tilted back and he leaned down, cupped her nape and kissed her.

A kiss not meant for strangers―not meant as a sweet hello. No, a promise he would pleasure her and she sang a big thank you, Jesus for bringing him to her. No thoughts. No regrets. Just two sweaty bodies going at it until exhaustion set in.


Stacey Kennedy’s novels are lighthearted fantasy with heart squeezing, thigh-clenching romance, and even give a good chuckle every now and again. But within the stories you’ll find fast paced action, life threatening moments and a big bad villain that needs to be destroyed. Her urban fantasy/paranormal and erotic romance series have hit Amazon Kindle and All Romance Ebooks Bestseller lists. If she isn’t plugging away at her next novel, tending to her two little ones, she’s got her nose deep in a good book. She lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband.

Be sure to drop her a line at, she loves to hear from her readers.

Da Rules of the Contests

Blog-a-Thon time at Paranormal Romantics means you can enter every single blog contest. Leave a comment on any or every blog to enter that authors contest. You can scroll all the way to the beginning to add comments to win and are encouraged to.
For the grand prize: Winner’s Choice between a Kindle Touch, Nook Wifi, or 100$ gift certificate at either Amazon or B&N. All comments during the Blog-a-Thon will be entered. The more you comment, the more entries you have.
For example: If you comment of four blogs then you have four entries in the hat for the grand prize.
Winners will be announced on Oct. 31 in the afternoon to allow our pacific time friends a chance to enter all the contests.

Happy Halloween…or Bah Humbug—oh wait is that chocolate? by Rebecca Royce

In our household, I am definitely the parent who gets less enthusiastic about holidays.  My husband can’t get enough of them. He loves the prep work (even the cooking), he loves the decorating, and he loves the whole experience of the day. If he can, he takes off Halloween from work and goes trick or treating with the children. 

The whole thing makes me feel exhausted.  The kids have to get into their costumes. They have to  go to school—sometimes in their costumes. I have to drive to 3 different classes to see them all parade or party or sing or…..

But then we get out there and they do look cute in their costumes.  And they love to pose and to smile. I get the best family pictures on Halloween. And they’re so happy. And I get to see my best friends who are also trick or treating.

That sort of inspires me to get more into it. 

Then the kids come home. They’re exhausted. Cranky. Difficult. They get to bed.  And my Halloween starts.

Oooh. Look at the chocolate.

What inspires you to get into the holiday?

Comment to win your choice from my backlist.

Rebecca Royce

Rites of an Exorcist

In the spirit of the season, I decided to watch the movie The Rite. Anyone who knows me, knows how much demon possession terrifies me. I’d face Mike Myers before stepping anywhere close to the possessed.
Do I believe in true possession? I don’t know. But like beauty, its existence is in the eye of the beholder.  

The movie is about an American seminary student who lacks faith and wishes to abdicate his vows. His teacher doesn’t want to let him go so easily and convinces him to travel to Italy to take an exorcism course where he meets Father Lucas who is a practicing exorcist in Rome.  
It had a good story with real internal conflict, which reflected some of my own issues. Then at the end during the credits I read this”
Based on true events.

Super creeped out now, I had to research this so I could sleep at night.  This is what I found in Wikipedia:
The film is based on the book The Making of a Modern Exorcist by Rome-based Matt Baglio, which was published in 2009. To research the book, Baglio participated in a seminar on exorcism by the Vatican-sponsored Pontifical Athenaeum Regina Apostolorum where he met Father Gary Thomas, a parish priest from Saratoga, California, who was tasked by the local bishop in San Jose, California to become an exorcist for the diocese.  Initially skeptical and reluctant, Father Gary becomes an "apprentice" to a Rome-based exorcist and his skepticism is soon replaced by the cold reality of evil and the ways it sometimes takes the form of demonic possession. The book traces Father Gary's life prior to and subsequent to their acquaintance in 2005 which involved Baglio observing over twenty exorcisms performed by Father Gary. Baglio indicates that the experience in writing the book "was just a very spiritual process and in a lot of ways, it helped me reconnect to the Church and understand the value of faith. This isn’t something that is silly and prayer, it’s very important."
That’s twenty too many for me.
I am aware that some consider possession a psychiatric condition and this movie covers this topic as well.  Exorcisms still take place and the Vatican still trains Soldiers of God.  
But sometimes ignorance it is bliss and I wish I didn't have this knowledge. At least, that’s my opinion.

Sometimes a woman just needs to root for the underdog.

Omegas in Love book 4 coming in spring.

Annie Nicholas

I will choose a commenter on my post to win any ebook from my backlist!

Da Rules of the Contests

Blog-a-Thon time at Paranormal Romantics means you can enter every single blog contest. Leave a comment on any or every blog to enter that authors contest. You can scroll all the way to the beginning to add comments to win and are encouraged to. 
For the grand prize: Winner’s Choice between a Kindle Touch, Nook Wifi, or 100$ gift certificate at either Amazon or B&N.  All comments during the Blog-a-Thon will be entered. The more you comment, the more entries you have.
For example: If you comment of four blogs then you have four entries in the hat for the grand prize.
Winners will be announced on Oct. 31 in the afternoon to allow our pacific time friends a chance to enter all the contests.

Haint Misbehaving by Hailey Edwards

I live in the Deep South, in an area rich in both history and tragedy and, because of those things, it comes as no surprise the area is also rich in ghosts. There is one ghost in particular who fascinates me: the ghost of Jesse James. Now, Jesse wasn’t from around here, so his choice of haunting sites is peculiar. Unless…you believe a ghost resides where he was most content during his life.

On the banks of the Alabama River, the St. James hotel stands watch over the city of Selma, Alabama. It’s an antebellum riverfront hotel, the only one left in Selma, and was built back in 1837.

Another interesting tidbit is that Benjamin S. Tower, the first African American Congressman, owned the establishment.

Anyway, Frank and Jesse James made the hotel their headquarters for some time. After the war, the area fell into hard times and was closed for over one hundred years.

Then, sometime in the late 1990’s, it was completely renovated and reopened for business. Much to the surprise of the new owners, there were a couple of unexpected guests still in residence.

Jesse James himself is rumored to walk the halls wearing his 1880’s cowboy-best. He prowls through rooms 214, 314, and 315. I wonder what significance those numbers hold to him?  He’s also rumored to occupy a corner table at the downstairs bar.

His girlfriend, Lucinda, is also a resident spook. As is his dog.

I think the best part of this story was when a team of paranormal investigators set up a tape recorder in the Brantley Ballroom, hoping for Electronic Voice Phenomenon. They asked, “Is anyone here?” Later, when they replayed the tape, a gruff voice had replied, “Well, that’s a stupid question.”

How about y’all? Have you ever seen a ghost or been somewhere you just know is haunted? Are there any legendary spooks in your neck of the woods?

 Hailey Edwards is a memeber of Paranormal Romantics and has donated towards the grand prize. Leave a comment for an additional entry.

In the Footsteps of a Killer by Erika Scott

I received a most wondrous birthday gift this year when I walked in the footsteps of Jack the Ripper. I suspect that everyone knows his story, as Jack is inarguably the most famous serial killer in history.

My teenage daughter, her best friend, and I left our hotel in Kensington and took the tube to Tower Hill. The ride took a bit longer than we expected, so we were fearful that we’d missed the 6:45 pm tour. No worries, at the top of the stairs, our tour guide from Jack the Ripper tours ( was giving a rousing introduction of the case.

We walked through Whitechapel, an iffy neighborhood even today, shivering a bit from the evening coolness as well as from the suspense of the story as it unfolded. The deaths of five women have been attributed to Jack’s sharp knife, although there may have been more or, according to a dark hint from our tour guide, less!

There must have been a bit of Jack the Ripper in my mind when I wrote Wild Ghost Chase, for my nasty villain is named Jack as well. Here’s an excerpt that gives a little more insight into the mind of my killer.

“One man, in particular, is especially mean. His caresses are slaps; his kisses more like bites that draw blood. I try to scream, but the words are trapped in a throat closed from panic. I am passed from one set of arms to another. When I awake, I realize my dream has become my reality for the man I am to marry, Jack Wild, is one of the men from my dreams.”

Monica turned the page, but there was nothing more. The rest of the journal was blank.

Heartbreaking, but it still told her nothing. She laid the book on the desk and continued the search. Despite checking every book on the shelf, she found nothing more about Crescent Cove or Harrington House. The only other title remotely interesting was one on Gunslingers in the Wild West. Paging through the book, she scanned the pages. Most of the biographies were

of notorious outlaws and lawmen she knew the history of: Billy the Kid, the Younger Brothers, Belle Star. Then, toward the back, the names stopped being so familiar, Black Jack, Pony Diehl, and Jack Wild. She paused. Could it be the same Jack who MaryBelle had married?

Hunkering down on the couch and wishing she had an apple to munch on, she read about his exploits. Whereas most of the outlaws in this book were notorious for their involvement in gambling, rustling, and robbery, Jack Wild had a blacker reputation—he stole other miners’ claims by impersonating them or killing them. He was also a mean drunk and was in the habit of beating up the prostitutes who serviced him.

Nice guy. If he was MaryBelle’s husband, she pitied the poor child and wondered what happened to the newlyweds. Had marriage been the anchor Jack Wild needed to mend his ways?


Ever wanted to do your own ghostly investigation? If so, leave a comment for a chance to win “Ghost Hunting – How to Investigate the Paranormal” by Loyd Auerback, a signed copy of Wild Ghost Chase by yours truly, AND an EMF meter.

Ericka Scott is a multi-published, bestselling author of seductive suspense. She's written stories for as long as she can remember and reads anything under the sun (including the back of cereal boxes in a pinch). She got hooked on romantic suspense in her college days when reading anything but a textbook was a guilty pleasure. Now, when she’s not chauffeuring children around, wishing she had more than 24 hours in a day, or lurking at the library, she’s spinning her own web of fantasy and penning tales of seduction and suspense. She currently lives in Southern California with her husband and three children.
She also loves friends, so come friend her at
She's also on Facebook at and Twitter @ErickaScott
You can find out more about her books at

My Favorite Holiday by CM Torrens

Hi, I'm C.M. Torrens the wonderful ladies of Paranormal Romantics are having this great giveaway and who doesn't want candy on Halloween? 

Halloween is my favorite holiday. We carve cool pumpkins, make our yard up into a graveyard and my son and his friends jump out of the bushes to scare the life out of full grown men. There are few things funnier than seeing grown men make a mad dash to get away from two teenage boys in costumes while screaming like little girls.

BlurbSimon has waited centuries for someone like Robert, but their first meeting is intended to be their last: Robert’s time on Earth is up, and it is Simon’s place to take him out of this world and into the next. Instead, Simon makes a split-second decision to save Robert’s life, though he is uncomfortably aware he has only postponed the inevitable.

Robert quickly falls for Simon, but when he notices the way Death seems to follow him around, his curiosity about Simon’s true nature turns to suspicion, all but erasing his memories of the man. Simon must fight to make him remember… and to stop Robert from making a grisly mistake.

To celebrate this wonderful holiday I'm giving away a free copy of His Soul To Take, my M/M Paranormal Romance novella.

C.M. Torrens

Author of HIS SOUL TO TAKE, available from Dreamspinner Press.
Blog: Sweet Sounds of a Panicked Writer.
Twitter: @CMTorrens

6 Ways to Become a Werewolf by Tricia Schneider

Even the man who is pure in heart
And says his prayers by night
May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms
And the Moon is pure and bright...

-Famous lines in "The Wolf Man," 1941

The word werewolf is most likely derived from two old-Saxon words, wer (meaning man) and wulf (meaning wolf). As I researched legends and myths of the werewolf for my novella, The Witch and the Wolf, I discovered there’s more than one way to cause the transformation from man into beast. Here are a few:


Being the seventh son of the seventh son, such a person could be born with the ability to change into a werewolf. This also applies to the seventh son with six girls as older siblings. The werewolf ‘gene’ could also be passed to children whose parents turn into werewolves. Other methods include being a child conceived under a new moon; being born on a new moon; being born on a full moon Friday; being born on the winter solstice or Christmas Eve; and being born on Friday the 13th. 


The curse of the werewolf, also known as the Lycaeonia Curse, can be bestowed by a person who is wronged in some way, using witchcraft, sorcery, evil spirits, or divine punishment. This would cause the person cursed to involuntarily change into a werewolf. The earliest story of such a curse can be found in Ovid’s Metamorphoses where the Greek God, Zeus, is angered by King Lycaon of Arcadia and dooms him to turn into a werewolf. 


Another method for turning into a werewolf is to be bitten by one. Bacteria in the saliva of the werewolf find its way into the blood stream. Alternately, a person could also be infected by a scratch. This is more commonly found in fiction, being rare in legend for there was seldom much left of a victim to become a werewolf.


A person desiring to become a werewolf could easily remove their clothes and put on a belt or girdle made of a wolf-skin. Skinwalkers are also found in Native American Indian lore where the person wears the pelt of the wolf to complete the transformation.  

Magic Salve

Another voluntary method is for the person to rub their bodies with magic salve or ointment to transform into a werewolf. The ingredients of the salve vary, but generally contained plant ingredients like nightshade, belladonna root and henbane. Sometimes other ingredients were included, such as bat’s blood, aconite, celery, soot, calamus, parsley, poplar leaves, and opium. For solvent, they used pig fat, turpentine and olive oil and then after the distillation of spirits was perfected alcohol served the purpose. This method was often combined with the wolf-skin to become a werewolf.


There are ceremonies and rituals that can be performed to achieve the desired results of transforming into a werewolf. These could include devil worship or asking evil spirits to assist in the change. Performing a ritual to invoke the spirit of the wolf or if the spirit of the wolf calls to the person are other methods.  

There are so many interesting legends and myths about werewolves spread across cultures and history giving us plenty of inspiration to work with when creating our own stories. I enjoy reading about them.


Comment for a chance to win a .pdf copy of my paranormal romance novella, The Witch and the Wolf! Happy Halloween!

The Witch and the Wolf

Lord Jeremy North's curse is to become a werewolf during every full moon, turning into a bloodthirsty monster that kills with no remorse. When he finds a woman nearly frozen upon his doorstep, his sense of honor compels him to help her, even at the risk he might kill her himself.

Lillian Merriweather hadn't planned to get caught in a blizzard while traveling the English countryside. Nor had she planned on finding refuge in a house full of secrets. But Lillian has secrets of her own. And what she's running from is not far behind...

~For more information about paranormal romance author Tricia Schneider and her books check out her website

~Find her:

 *Moon photo courtesy of Lady Dragonfly Gifts and Photography, © copyright 2011 Michele Nelson

Da Rules of the Contests

Blog-a-Thon time at Paranormal Romantics means you can enter every single blog contest. Leave a comment on any or every blog to enter that authors contest. You can scroll all the way to the beginning to add comments to win and are encouraged to.
For the grand prize: Winner’s Choice between a Kindle Touch, Nook Wifi, or 100$ gift certificate at either Amazon or B&N. All comments during the Blog-a-Thon will be entered. The more you comment, the more entries you have.
For example: If you comment of four blogs then you have four entries in the hat for the grand prize.
Winners will be announced on Oct. 31 in the afternoon to allow our pacific time friends a chance to enter all the contests.

Yeoman’s Curse by TC Archer

 Emergency lights, yellow after years of power drain, flickered in the cargo bay of the species Y-45B slave-ship Yeoman's Glory. Shredded cables hung from the ceiling, and destroyed cages lay scattered about the floor. All signs indicated the ship was completely derelict—a fact which didn’t offer the comfort it should have. Zack Richards couldn’t recall anyone ever disabling a Y-45B slave-ship. The Y-45B guarded their slaves like a jealous lover, and accorded their transports security and stealth second only to their diplomatic envoys. 

The tightness in his chest that had started when he boarded the Yeoman thirty minutes ago cinched tighter. Maybe it was the lack of human remains. Maybe it was the odd electrical failures which created the illusion that lighting was always better just beyond where he stood, as if a fog enveloped him.

"Richards. Richards. Answer me," Destiny Svenshenko called over the link.

Richards had forgotten she had lost his video feed when he entered the cargo hold. "Looks like—” Something flitted in his peripheral vision.  “What the—”

“What is it?” she demanded.

A shadow darted between two cages to his left. Richards whirled.

He drew his impulse-blaster. “There’s someone here.”

An instant of silence, then, "Sensors show no life signs aboard other than yours."

 “I don’t care what the sensors say.  I saw something."


He flicked a glance farther left, at the airlock where their ship the Pale Dawn was docked. The small compartment was empty. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled. He spun to face the cargo bay.


Richards took a step backward toward the airlock…and the spot where he’d seen whatever it was their sensors said couldn’t be there. He scanned the edges of the room where shadows darkened amongst the cages. His gaze caught on the half-open door straight ahead leading to a long corridor that disappeared into the murk. He took another step back toward the exit. The creepy sensation increased.

"I don't know what,” he said, “but something is here. Can't see him, but I can feel him."

"Him?" Destiny echoed.

Richards flushed. "Just saying, not thinking."

He took another step backwards. The presence pressed upon him. Could someone really be watching? Maybe the Pale Dawn sensors had malfunctioned. No, their sensors had detected his life signs. Hate seemed to burn into the back of his head. If he turned, would anyone really be near the airlock? He forced himself to look over his shoulder. Despite seeing nothing, his next step was made harder by the oppressive presence emanating from that direction. 

The lights flickered, then went out. He jerked his face forward, tensed in readiness for gravity cutting out, then registered a small cold-blue light at the far end of the passageway beyond the doorway. The source had to be the bridge. He tightened his grip on the impulse-blaster. Had this been a power failure, all lights, gravity, and life support would have been lost.

"What happened?" Destiny asked.

 “The lights went out."

"I heard a gasp. I thought….I don't know what I thought. So you're getting back here, right?"

"I think whoever’s here wants me to go to the bridge," he said.

"There's no one aboard, dammit. The lasers are warmed up. We'll slice and dice this tub from the safety of our ship. Get back here. Now."

"Yeah. Yeah. Just don’t start without me. I’m going to have to leave my UL here and I want it back."

“What—” she began, then, “You’re a regular clown.”

That did the trick. The fear in her voice was gone. Now if he could just convince himself.  He pulled the Universal Light from his utility belt and tossed it straight up, underhanded. The UL hit the steel overhead, stuck, and filled the room with blessed bright light. And shadows so sharp, everything seemed to move as he turned and started toward the airlock. His shadow grew longer and more distorted with distance. The urge to run nearly overwhelmed him. He was acting like a kid who’d got spooked over a stupid ghost story. The airlock seemed as far away as when he’d started. When his shadow finally crossed the threshold, he lunged into the little room and slammed the close button.

The door didn't move.

"What happened?" Destiny demanded. The alarm had returned to her voice.

"Door didn't shut."

He yanked the emergency override. Powerful springs slammed the door closed. The small space went pitch dark. All he heard was his own breath coming out in rapid wheezes. Then scraping sounds drifted in like…fingernails on the airlock door? Maybe boots scuffling on the deck beyond?

Then the opposite door hissed and slid open. Light haloed Destiny. She stood like an angel, backlit by the light of their ship. An angel with a blaster in her hand. That was his Destiny. She’d saved his ass three years ago when Bakmorn hijackers had him cornered behind an asteroid. If she hadn’t yanked his ship out of their line of fire, then dragged him along with her into warp, he wouldn’t be here now.  

She lowered the weapon as she reached in and grasped his suit-front. He lunged forward with her yank and they tumbled onto the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. The familiar smells of clean metal and fresh air-conditioning flooded around him. His cock pulsed in response to the pressure of her lush breasts against his arm. Damn, he’d never been more glad to get home. He gave her a hard kiss.

Destiny kissed him back, then shoved to her feet, kicked the emergency close lever, and faced him. She extended a hand and lifted her brow. “You going to stay down there?”

Richards grasped her hand and rose.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

He frowned. "What?"

"You’re white as a sheet."

"I'm not going back in there."

"No, you're not. We're going to cut that ship up and sell it for scrap."

Eight hours later, Richards and Destiny studied the screen of the Pale Dawn’s cargo hold. They’d stowed all but one remaining salvageable part from the Yeoman’s Glory in the hold. 

“Chop up that last piece of the hull.” Destiny rose from the console. She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “I’ll rustle up something to eat.”

His gaze snagged on her hips and he swiveled in his chair far enough to watch as she crossed to the door. She stepped over the metal lip at the doorway, drawing her skin tight leather pants tighter about the curve of her buttocks. Richards’ heart jumped. She had the same affect on him every time he looked at her. They’d been together three years. A lifetime in space. He’d never told her he loved her. Did she know? He grunted a laugh as she disappeared around a bend in the corridor. She was a woman. She knew.

 Richards faced the monitor. He grasped the joystick, then froze. The remaining piece of hull that hung in space in front of the Pale Dawn contained a twenty-by-three meter piece of plexiglass that had once been the window of the ship’s bridge.  A figure stood at the window as if standing on the nonexistent metal floor, staring out into space…straight at Richards.

Richards gripped the joystick and jammed down its button. A laser shot in a straight line from the Pale Dawn. He yanked the stick downward and the laser sliced down the middle of the window—and straight through the figure. An animal scream shook the Pale Dawn. Force of the sound threw Richards from his seat. He hit the floor, his head thudding against the metal. Pain bounced off his skull. He groped for the chair, his fingers closing around air. A shadow fell across him.  His heart pounded.


The lights went out.

The end

We’ll be giving away a copy of our erotic Space Opera Sasha’s Calling

Spy for hire Sasha Smirnov has stolen classified data. One man stands in her way of escape: sexy diplomat Dirk Roscoepilot. A sizzling kiss burns him into her memory—and her body. She stows away on a spaceship, only to find Dirk is the pilot. She doesn’t count on the passion that explodes between them, or the choice that forces her into his bed. If she is to save her planet, Sasha must get as far away from Dirk as possible.

Available from Loose Id