Sunday, October 5, 2014

I See Pumpkins!

For me, it's hard to believe Summer is past, but waking up in the northeast this morning proved I am right. BRRR! I am already sad and looking forward to the next heatwave. :)
I found this short, short story in my archives, so I pulled it out because Halloween is upon us -- enjoy!

THE CARVER

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.
Here.
Stopping dead in his tracks, he cupped his ear. Nothing. He was hearing things.
Here.
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.
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 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 and then smiled. “Welcome Mr. Carver.”
Jack had earned his name.

J Hali Steele

Growl and roar-it’s okay to let the beast out.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

The frightening mind of a paranormal writer

by Maureen L. Bonatch

October’s here, which can only mean one thing…no, look away from the turkey napkins and Christmas decorations and out to the colorful leaves falling from the trees….that’s right, it’s Fall and Halloween isn’t far behind.

This means a little more to me than raking leaves and gorging on Halloween candy. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that…the candy, not the leaves—throw on a costume and you’re entitled to eat ALL the candy you want. I think they’re supposed to put less calories in the Halloween stuff, don’t quote me on that because I’m not certain. That’s just my theory and please don’t tell me differently.) 

I figure I’m entitled to the candy because I wear a costume everyday— that of being a normal person— when in reality...I’m a writer, and not just any kind of writer, but a paranormal writer.

That’s not a costume you say? Hmmm….have you ever looked closely into the mind of a paranormal writer? Do you really want to go there? Okay, if you can handle the scary stuff and you insist…it’s the result/curse/blessing of an overactive imagination. 
Some examples, just from today…

  •           Every. Single. Time. I pull a plastic fork from the box, and the tongs scrape against each other, I begin to question if I really need to finish the work I'm doing because I’m obviously asleep and it’s only moments before I’m pretty darn sure that Freddy Krueger is making his way into my office to begin his reign of terror and I frantically start plotting for potential methods to evade him or…
  •          While driving through a dense fog today, I emerge only to become confused on a familiar route. I'm fairly certain I may have passed through a parallel universe.  Maybe it wasn't even the same year? Or I'm in a different world all together...and if so, perhaps chocolate was now calorie free... 

 Okay, I may have digressed and I don’t want to frighten you too much…

I must admit, my warped imagination may have been influenced by my early readings of Stephen King, John Saul, Dean Koontz, JR Tolkien and Anne Rice, etc. 
I moved to many of these stories after reading my first taste of the paranormal…the Sweet Valley High books. 

I loved the books, but as an awkward, young teenager reading intro after intro, and dreaming of being the perfect blonde haired twins with perfect smiles, perfect size six figures, perfect…perfect…perfect…I was like…wait a minute…these girls can’t be real. 
Give me hobbits, vampires and other creatures of the night…now those are real to me. 

 Then when television began to embrace the paranormal with shows like The X-Files, Ghost Whisperer, Medium, Millineum and Charmed, they drew me in like no other. (I must admit, I might've wrote my novella, That Magic Moment, when I may, or may not, have been watching a marathon of the television show Charmed and there is the slightest possibility that I may, or may not, have played the theme song repeatedly. (Come'on...It's a good song and a great intro!)


 


For those of us who like to write paranormal, this time of year inspiration can be found around every corner and paranormal reads move front and center (yeah!). 

Readers---Look around because opportunities abound to win some free reads and talk about just what we love about this season. To name a few:  


If you want a sweet, short, treat to get you into the mood of the season, check out my novella, 

Can love cross the boundaries mortals have erected to reject all that cannot be explained?


I don’t always write, but when I do, it’s a paranormal…

Stop by my website or Facebook page to find out about my upcoming release Destiny Calling. 

What's your favorite part of Fall? 

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Graveyard Dust



Graveyard dust. It sounds a bit creepy, right?Who in their right mind goes around scooping up soil out of cemeteries?
         Well, believe it or not, a lot of people. The use of graveyard dust is common in many magical traditions. It is considered exceptionally powerful because of its associations with the dead and their proximity to the spirit world.

Victim, Healer or Perpetrator?
        In many forms of folk magic, the person who’s inside the grave is significant. Dust from the grave of someone who loved you should be used in love spells, while dust from the burial site of a wicked person might be incorporated into curses and other malevolent workings. Dust from a lawyer’s grave can turn a court case your way, and soil from a detective or police officer may help catch a rapist. The dirt from a midwife’s grave lends spiritual aid during childbirth. Who knows, a little dust from a doctor’s grave could cure what ails you.
        In other words, the dust from the grave is a physical correspondence with the traits of the person buried beneath it. And the closer the dirt was to the corpse, the more potent it is considered to be. The dust can be enhanced by combining it with moss scraped from the grave. Or mix it with herbs, nails, a magnet, sulfur, shedded snack skins, red or black pepper, or chimney soot, depending on how you will be using the mixture.
        Here is how Nicholas Orenda, a sixth-generation witch in my upcoming novel, Song of the Ancients, approached his graveyard visit. Granted, he took a bit more than dust from the grave.

                                                           Chapter 29: Graveyard Dust

Nicholas pulled off the gravel road in the dwindling twilight, stopping at a rickety barbed-wire fence blocking the cemetery entrance. He unlatched the post, scraping the gate across the snowy ground and dropping it where the road’s edge fell off into the ice-crusted ditch.

  He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of pennies, scattering them in the snow. “Alms for the dead,” he muttered. Somewhere behind him, a coyote howled a solitary note, and was answered by a chorus of voices from the dark woods.

  Ahead, dull grey tombstones poked up from the earth at odd angles like rows of crooked teeth. Half-way into the cemetery a dark mound protruded above the snow.

  Opening the trunk, Nicholas removed a flashlight, shovel, crowbar, and a small hatchet, dropping them into a burlap sack. He tucked the sack under his arm and headed to the new grave, his boots crunching to the ground as they broke through the icy film on the top of the snow.

   The burial mound was soft and the digging went quickly.  While he pitched shovel after shovel of dirt over his shoulder, his mind returned to the idea of bonding with Samantha. A blood bond would be the strongest, although any bodily fluid would work. Blood could have the added benefit of tying them telepathically. Of course submitting freely, of her own will, would allow him to avoid resorting to dark magic and help keep his soul intact. Oops, too late, he thought, looking at the pile growing pile of dirt.

Why would someone sneak into a cemetery and bury a body? He could think of a number of mundane reasons, but why would a witch do so? Unless they defiled the body in some way and didn’t want anyone to know. His hole grew deeper and his unease increased.

Only three feet down his shovel hit something firmer than the soft soil, connecting with a muffled thud. Digging carefully down one side, he cleared a space to stand beside the box. He removed the crowbar from his sack and pried the coffin nails from one side, muttering softly. “Coffin nails, familiars of maggot and worms and unsavory creatures of the kind. Do my bidding, my evil works, when I so command.” Blowing on the nails, he pocketed them and opened the lid.

He held his breath and shone the flashlight on the body, a young woman, barely past her teens. Her hands had been folded across her body, and Nicholas could make out, in the flashlight’s beam, several places on her right arm where jagged chunks of flesh were missing.

Something had chewed on this girl. He fervently hoped she had died first.

Nicholas scrambled out of the hole, brushing the soil off his shirt and pants with shaky hands. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he picked up the ax and the burlap sack, and dropped back into the grave.

Working quickly, he lopped off the corpse’s left hand and dropped it into the sack.  Closing the lid on the casket quietly, he gathered his tools and climbed out of the grave.

   Nicholas gave a quick look around to be sure no prying eyes were watching before shoveling the dirt back onto the coffin.

  For one moment longer he stood by the mound. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver dime and dropped the on the grave.

  Satisfied, he ran his fingers over the mound to erase his footprints and scattered a few dry leaves on top. He looked around one last time to be sure he’d forgotten nothing, then hurried back to the car, holding the sack at arm’s length.   

  Dumping everything into the trunk, he drove out the gate without stopping. 

* * * * *
Collecting Graveyard Dust
        No matter whose grave you choose to collect dust from, it’s important to do so in a respectful and honorable manner. Graveyard dust must be purchased, through a contract with the spirit of the person buried there. There are as many approaches to buying graveyard dust as there are ways of using it, but here is one technique:

Supplies to Take:
* Trowel
* cloth or plastic bag
* tobacco and small bottle of whiskey (like the airline bottles)
* a mercury (silver) dime
* 9 pennies
* tea light in its container, and lighter/matches
* paper and pen
* Small pot of flowers

Waning Moon at Midnight
         Some people say to visit the cemetery on the dark or waning moon at midnight for malevolent spells, or on the full moon for love and healing workings. I say let the rules of your cemetery be your guide. If you can enter the premises at night, then go after dark. If the cemetery closes at dusk, go before it closes. Honor the law.
         Have all of your supplies in your sack and flowers in hand. At the gate of the cemetery, leave your 9 pennies in honor of the spirit who owns and guards all graveyards. Ask for his permission and protection while you do your work, and then enter.
         Start in the center of the cemetery, walking by candlelight. Reach out with your thoughts and talk to the spirits of the graveyard. Tell them the magickal work you want to accomplish, and ask who among them will assist you. Wait for a ‘tug’ leading you in the right direction, and proceed slowly to the grave that calls to you. When you get there, place the candle on the grave and sit on top of it to meditate/pray with that spirit for a bit. Ask for permission and assistance, and if you get an affirmative answer, begin to buy the dirt.

Proper Payment
         Take the graveyard dust from the appropriate area: over the head or feet for spells of persuasion, or if you want them to move in a certain direction; from the heart area for love. Cut out a small plug of sod, dig down about six inches for dirt, and put it in your sack or plastic bag. Then drop the silver dime into the hole in payment for the dirt, thanking the spirit and saying, “As I have paid you in silver, so shall you pay me in labor.”  Add a bit of tobacco or whiskey (you may ask the spirit if it has a preference) into the hole and replace the plug of soil.
         Write down the name, birth and death dates of the grave on a piece of paper and include it in the bag. Hold the bag in your hands and ask the spirit a last time to help you. Leave the candle (if it’s in a fireproof container), to burn on the headstone, and place the flowers on the grave.
         Leave the grave knowing you have the spirit’s assistance, Walk slowly and don’t look back. Thank all the spirits at the gate, and when you are outside, spin around three times before you leave, to confuse and detach any entities who may want to hitchhike home with you.
         At home, spread the dirt out on a piece of foil to thoroughly dry, and then sift out any roots or rocks.
         Store the dust with the name paper, and the moon phase when it was gathered. Every time you use it, call the spirit by name and command it to assist in your work, referring to the contract you made in the cemetery.

Shake Out Your Shoes
         Graveyard dust can be used for foot-track magic, a form of sorcery in which one hurts or poisons a victim through the feet (ie, the graveyard dust mixture is sprinkled in the shoes of the victim, or on a path where the victim will walk). However, spells of revenge or retribution tend to have serious ethical considerations, and will almost always backfire on the user. Instead, consider methods of mediation and enlightenment to achieve your goals. One example, a graveyard dust spell for a fair inheritance, is posted on my website, www.writerSandy.com.

          




Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Happy Halloween, Samhain, and All Souls Day!

To celebrate the cooler season and spooky month of October, I've decided to run a month long, rafflecopter contest. Me and some fellow authors will be giving away eBooks and Amazon gift cards on October 31st.

To enter, go to my website : www.sophiakimble.com


Not only is this my favorite time of year, but my new paranormal romance, Protect Her,  is releasing with Soul Mate Publishing on October 22, 2014.




Golden Alexander is trapped in a nightmare.

Trying to flee her hallucination of a demon, she runs heart first into the brooding alpha male she’s been dreaming about for years, and then her nightmare really begins.

Kris Pietka is done with women...he’s broken. But when he meets Golden, an overwhelming need to protect her tests everything he thought he knew about himself, and the paranormal.

A bond forged centuries ago thrusts them together as they search for a way to break an ancient Druid curse prophesying their demise. Racing against the clock, they travel from Vermont, to the Carpathian Mountains in Poland, and the Scottish Highlands in search of answers and a way to break the curse.


But something evil watches—it covets, and time is running out. Will fate allow love to prevail against unbeatable odds, or will Golden wake to find it was all a delusion?

Don't forget to enter to win some great spooky books and Amazon gift cards!  Enter here!

Happy Spooky month to you all!

Monday, September 29, 2014

Cat Flash is out now!

The final story in my Stray Cats series is out now. The final chapter! I'm both excited and sad. Excited because I love this series. Who doesn't like black cats? I've got one and he's a real piece of work. He's a pistol but so loving and snuggly. At the same time, I'm sad. I knew this series had to end because it needed closure. But I didn't want to let the kitties go.

So when I set out to write the final story, I knew I had to give the series the proper send off. Adrian doesn't get to come into his shifting powers right away. He's got to wait an extra year--not that he minds. He likes being a cat. Meliana isn't the average human. Nope. She's exactly what Adrian needs, although he doesn't realize that at first. She's a witch.

The weather is getting cooler and it's nearing Halloween. Why not curl up with a black cat, his witch and a fun short story? If that sounds good to you, then why not try Cat Flash and the others in the Stray Cats series? :-)

Cat Flash by Megan Slayer 
Stray Cats, book 4
BIN: 07116-02292
Word Count: 18K
Page Count: 59
Price: $3.99
Release Date: September 26, 2014
Editor: Katriena Knights
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres: Erotic Romance, Paranormal
Themes:  Shapeshifters, Magic

She's got the flash and he's the cat. Together they'll create magic.

Meliana has denied her powers as a witch because she'd rather fit into society. She doesn't want to stand out, but a woman with blue hair and the power to work magic doesn't necessarily blend in. She got the cat in an attempt to be normal, but this kitty has a secret and it's guaranteed to surprise.

EXCERPT:

©2014 Megan Slayer, all rights reserved
As she blinked and shifted on the bed, an arm curled tighter around her.
She froze. An arm? What the fuck? She lived with a cat. A thick cock slid between her ass cheeks. She screamed. A cock of any sorts was not supposed to be in her bed.
“Meli, it’s fine. No one broke in.”
She had no idea who the hell just said that, but the fact they’d used her name freaked her out even more. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She tried to thrash, but couldn’t move.
Her body warred with her brain. Normally, having a cock between her ass cheeks made her happy -- when she knew who the cock belonged to and how he knew her name… like her ex-boyfriend Lane, but he wasn’t there. He’d left her for another woman. He’d told her to go to hell when she’d called, so no doubt he wasn’t there.
Her pussy throbbed. No sex in more than four months made the lady parts not so happy and apparently extremely responsive to crazy-ass people who’d climbed into her bed.
Screw it. She’d give this stranger a piece of her mind before he took a piece of her ass. She rolled over and stared into a set of yellow-green eyes. The man, stubble sprinkled on his cheeks and his inky black hair mussed from sleep, grinned. He had a dimple. She was a sucker for dimples. No, no, she had to get back to the point and get the jackass out of her bed.
“Who are you and why are you in my bed?” There. She’d asked the questions. “Get out of here.”
“I’ve been in your bed for the two years, sweetheart.” The smile faded and he shrank back from her. “Meli? It’s me, Chaos… er… Adrian.”
She slumped back onto the bed and her jaw slackened. Her cat was a hunky human-looking male named Adrian? Holy shit.
Adrian crawled off the bed, taking the sheet with him. He barely covered his toned body with the bedding. His nipples beaded. A thin trail of black hair led just below his belly button and disappeared beneath the sheet. She pressed her lips together. She shouldn’t be gawking at him, but the man was sexy. She could never attract someone like him.
“Then tell me, if you’re Chaos, how you got here and why you’re a guy now.” She folded her arms. “How’d I end up with a cat shifter? I was supposed to have a plain old black cat.”
“I’m a shifter.” He shrugged. “I took a little longer to mature than the others, I suppose. Your grandmother rescued me and my three brothers. The others were adopted out. I’m assuming they found good homes. Hildy wouldn’t just hand them over to anyone. She knew you and I would suit each other and made sure she brought us together. I’ve been with you for the last two years, babe. I know what you are and what you can do.”
Realization washed over her. If he was truly her cat, then he had seen everything. He could do one hell of a lot of damage.
Adrian crept to the side of the bed and sat next to her. “I know this is a lot to take in. I’m not totally used to this either.” He gestured down his body. “I have to figure out what all to do with me -- although I’ve got some definite ideas.”

“It’s the mind control spell.” She was grasping at straws. Her cat could not be a shifter. The idea wasn’t even possible. She’d picked out a perfectly normal kitten who’d grown into an overly hyper but normal cat… who happened to be missing. “Where is Chaos? I want my cat back.”

* * * * * *
When she's not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don't seem to mind.
When she’s not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school. She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best. The cabana boys are willing to serve, unless she needs them. She always need them. So be nice to Javier or he will bite--on command.
She also masquerades under the name Wendi Zwaduk and is published through Ellora’s Cave, Changeling Press, Decadent Publishing , Liquid Silver Books, MLR Press, Resplendence Publishing, and Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Megan’s Fan page! https://www.facebook.com/pages/Wendi-Zwaduk-Megan-Slayer/195277927167481
AuthorGraph: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/MeganSlayer
Newsletter sign up:  http://ymlp.com/xgjmjumygmgj 

Friday, September 26, 2014

Guest Author Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

Today’s it’s our pleasure at Paranormal Romantics to have Linda Thomas-Sundstrom as our guest, talking about her new release Immortal Obsession.  A little about Linda (courtesy of the author):

An award-winning author of contemporary and paranormal romance novels and novellas, with books published by Kensington Brava, Amazon Montlake, Harlequin Nocturne and Harlequin Desire. Linda lives in the west, and is a teacher by day and a writer by night. She loves more than anything to write, and hopes you will come along on the wild, wonderful ride with her.

Veronica: What prompted you to start writing?
Linda: DNA…. Writing has always been in my blood. My first book was at age 8. I still have it!

Veronica: Which five people (real, fictional, historical) would you invite to dinner?
Linda:  J.R.R Tolkien, Ayn Rand, Gandalf, Optimus Prime,  Joseph Campbell.
Veronica: Well that would be quite the conversation! You’d need a big table for Optimus Prime LOL. Which word or phrase do you most overuse in a manuscript? (I confess to “that” being my own worst word)
Linda:  “Something.”  I have to go back and change some of those in each manuscript.

Quickfire Questions (pick a few):
Must watch  TV Show: Orphan Black - BBCA
Cats or Dogs? Horses! Love horses!
Tea or coffee:  tea – English breakfast, strong and unsweetened.
Morning person or evening person:  evening, for sure.
Last meal on Earth would be: scones and real clotted cream from Cornwall, UK.
Favorite Perfume: Euphoria – Calvin Klein
Book or books I reread most often (up to 3, any genre):  The Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Fountainhead, The Power of Myth.

Veronica: How do you celebrate when you finish writing a book?
Linda:  Champagne, each and every time!

Veronica: I like your style! What are you working on next?
Linda:  I have three more books in my Wolf Moons series for Nocturne done turned in … and am doing copyedits on those now. “Wolf Born” (Feb 2015), “Wolf Hunter” (May 2015)

Where can your Readers find you online? Web site: http://www.lindathomas-sundstrom.com    Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LindaThomasSundstrom

The story:
As her Protector, he was bound to oblige her every desire.

A rogue group of human-hating vampires have overtaken London. But the elite immortals who own much of the city may have found the key to protecting their territory: Madison Chase, an American newscaster investigating a story about missing teenagers. If she can convince someone to help her infiltrate the dangerous faction, she just might stem the bloodletting and find her brother in time….

St. John can't escape his dark family legacy. But the instincts that keep him from being fully human also make him the rogues' worst enemy. His desire for the ethereal redhead is immediate, all-consuming—and forbidden. And as the investigation escalates, Madison must discover if St. John is her trusted Protector—or if she's being seduced by a monster.

Here’s the excerpt from Immortal Obsession:
IMMORTAL OBSESSION – Excerpt 1 – Meet Christopher St. John
St. John stood on the rooftop of Space, looking down at the dark street, waiting. Would Madison’s rebellious streak get the better of her? Would she show up when she had been warned to stay away?
He was dressed in black, his usual choice, not only as a metaphor for the loss of his soul, but because black was perfect camouflage for slipping in and out of darker places.
He and his brethren, called the Seven, had chosen ebony for the background of their crest, highlighted by a golden cup centered between two parallel stripes of crimson. One red stripe to represent the blood of the mortality they had left behind, and one for the first drink of the new blood that changed them so radically and forever.
They had painted this design on their shields with fluid from their veins, and etched the same design into the skin of their upper backs with the tip of a heated knife.
The tattoos were there now, between his shoulder blades; an ever-present reminder of what he had become and the goal he served—all of those things so much bigger than anyone knew.
He remembered, as he stared down at the crowd gathered by the club’s entrance, how people had once flocked to him and his brethren for aid. And how, over time, those same people had run from the sight of the fated knights who never aged.
Times had changed, but his goals hadn’t. Presently, he was more or less in disguise as just another immortal amid the world of London’s immortals, playing a part, acting less than he was after a long, self-imposed exile.

Buy Link for book:
http://www.amazon.com/Immortal-Obsession-Linda-Thomas-Sundstrom-ebook/dp/B00JIHAU06/ref=la_B002BMBNS8_1_11_title_0_main?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1411495360&

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Tooting Horn for Upcoming Release!

The closer it gets to a new release, the more excited – and terrified – an author becomes. Readers will be snatching up your book. Reviews will come pouring in – the good, the bad and the ugly. But what if they don’t? It’s like putting all your time, effort and money into planning the party of the year then worrying if anyone will show up. It’s not the planning, it’s the showing up that’s the hard part. How do you get your new baby into the hands (or onto the e-devices) of as many readers as possible?

Spread the word. Amplify your reach.


REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT
“By Moonlight” Book 9
By Nancy Gideon
October 13, 2014

Because the road to . . .

Clever, cool and preternaturally lethal, Max Savoie is leader of a secretive shape-shifter clan, heir to a mobster’s legacy, and the love of New Orleans’ top cop . . . but he can’t remember any of them. The only way to recover his past, and his rightful place in the arms of the woman who risked all to save him, is to surrender to a mysterious visitor who could use him as a weapon against all he’d loved.

Happily-Ever-After . . .

After rescuing her mate from his ruthless captors in the North, hard-hitting Detective Charlotte Caissie is now painfully vulnerable—a stranger in his eyes . . . and in his bed. The key to his memories is locked in a tortuous past. To reclaim the strength of their passionate bond, Max must learn to trust her enough to face that darkness at her side before the threat it hides exposes the secret Cee Cee carries.

Is never smooth.

When an investigation into grisly deaths in an underground Shifter fight club points to more than just dangerous clan rivalries, Cee Cee enlists Max’s help to find a traitor in their midst while there’s still time to turn a deadly invading tide. But the cost of saving their treasured future may mean sacrificing his past. Especially when the enemy they pursue . . . might be Max, himself.

“Every delicious word Nancy Gideon puts on the page exhilarates with a sensuous ferocity. Hopelessly addicted.” — Darynda Jones, NY Times Bestselling Author

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Because REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT, my October 13, 2014 dark paranormal shape-shifter release is my first self-published book and doesn’t have the power of a Big Five or even a small press behind it, it’s up to me to shout loud and far with the help of others. Besides setting up a fairly substantial number of blog stops on my own, I’ve also opted for the assistance of two successful blog tour companies that I’ve worked with in the past. Both reach different audiences and are taking a different approach.

Buy the Book Blog Tours is handling REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT for long haul exposure with blogs posts, interviews, and reviews – for eight weeks and over twenty-five stops beginning October 6 under this attractive banner:



















For a quick, out-of-the-blocks push, Bewitching Blog Tours is hosting a “Release Day Blitz” on October 13, the first day REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT is available to readers, also with posts, interviews and reviews, but with one loud boom instead of continuous fire.

Both sites are still accepting hosts for their tours so, if you want to help me make some noise, jump on board. Or stop in and comment once the stops are listed. Here’s a peek at what you’d be promoting:

Excerpt

Where was Max?

Had she expected it to be easy having him here so close and yet so agonizingly far away? Bad enough watching him in that antiseptic clinic cell, a prisoner of his own panicked madness, raving, raging, out of control. Worse was having him here in the lush, sexy surroundings he’d built for them to share, temptingly near yet impossible to reach.

A bargain made in heartbreak hell.

Though she might be tortured by cherished memories, he was not. She was nothing to him but a protective port in his emotional storm. And that knowledge was driven home like a stake through the heart every time they were together. Every time he stared at her through those cool green eyes without the slightest flicker of response. Every time he took that distancing step back to evade the casual graze of her hand. Every time he lay next to her in the night and silence created a force field of discomfort.

Tripping over him every minute of the damned day only emphasized how much she wanted, needed him back.

And underlined how far away he was.

Praise from Publisher’s Weekly for the “By Moonlight” series:

“A paranormal romance series with intriguing characters and zippy action . . . Gideon masters the tension required to keep her complex and engaging story moving.”

“Vivid writing, plot twists and a satisfying ending will keep readers coming back to Gideon’s magical NOLA.”

“Rich and complex. Enticing new dimensions to the Shifter world keep things fresh. Gideon delivers well-crafted prose and page-turning tension.”


If you’ve had tours or been a tour host, what have your experiences been?

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦





Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Launch yourself IN THE VOID!

We're only a few days away from the release of IN THE VOID, the sequel to the successful first book in the Tales from the Edge series, IN THE BLACK!

When you're preparing to be boarded by pirates you take every bit of help you can get - and if that includes a short teaching session by April Osano, the resident self-defense/BDSM expert, you take it.

Especially when Sean Harrison is the unfortunate target...

***


April strutted around a half-naked Sean as the courtesan studied his bare torso.
Studied the marks Catherine had left there only a few hours ago.
“Fighting dirty isn’t something women tend to do. We’re told to play nice, don’t hit below the belt and don’t pull hair.” April twisted her fingers in Sean’s short black hair and yanked his head back, hard.
His lips pulled back to expose his teeth but he stayed silent.
“I find pulling hair quite acceptable under certain circumstances.” She released him and continued her circling. “Your teachers didn’t allow you to think outside of the box where anything goes.”
Her hand flew to the inside of Sean’s right arm, just below the shoulder. “For example, pinching. A sharp pinch in the right place—” She twisted and snapped her fingers away. “Can distract even the most determined opponent.”
Catherine watched the purple welt rise.
Sean didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away.
“Fighting dirty tends to have you thinking about smacking a guy in the balls. A great target if you can get to it.”
April brought up her right knee and stopped less than an inch from Sean’s crotch.
He instinctively moved to cover with both hands.
She smiled and dropped her knee down. “Most men know that and protect the family jewels automatically.” April patted Sean’s cheek. “Understandable reaction. That’s the problem when you’re told to go for the balls—it’s more likely than not an attack will be thwarted.”
Sean exhaled slowly and returned his hands to his sides.
“But there’re other areas that can be attacked to inflict almost as much pain. When it comes to vital areas, both sexes have the same vulnerabilities. The arms, the legs, the nipples.” Her fingers landed on Sean’s left breast, pinching the delicate skin between her thumb and forefinger.
He rose up on his feet, grimacing, but he kept his eyes closed.
“Same for us, dear.” April looked at her directly. “Giving control, having control and using it. Knowing when to do what is important and not only in the middle of a fight.” She cocked her head to one side. “There are always going to be situations that are totally, utterly out of your control. How you react to them will decide your future.”
Sean whimpered.

“Enough.” Catherine found her voice. “Enough.”

****
Book two of Tales from the Edge
Catherine Rodgers doesn't like Mercy spaceships, or the courtesans who work on them--not after her husband left her for a Mercy woman. But after her luxurious transport ship gets blown up to prevent her from cracking the lid off a corporate scam that's left hundreds dead and a few people very rich, the only vessel around to save her is theBonnie Belle.
Sean Harrison has worked as one of the Belle's courtesans for years, bringing happiness to countless women along the space lanes. When he's asked to look after Catherine while the Belle brings her to safety, it should be just another job. Somehow it's anything but.
Sean is captivated by Catherine's sense of justice and responsibility. And Catherine finds a softer, more emotionally intelligent man in Sean than she expected. Drawn together in darkness under the threat of death, they find the beginning of something lasting. But with pirates after the Belle and a price on Catherine's head, that beginning might be all they get.
IN THE VOID comes out in only a few days - have you pre-ordered a copy yet? 
Drop on by Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, iBooks, Kobo and Carina Press to hop on board the Bonnie Belle for another fateful adventure!
Also on Goodreads!



Monday, September 22, 2014

My Heart is Flying

By Stephanie Beck


I'm having a great day. Like, one of those, super duper uper days where you're happy without any real reason, just feeling the great. I'm feeling the great (let's hope it doesn't lead me to doing anything too silly-ah heck, it probably will and that's aokay too!).


One thing that really has me flying high, is finishing a series I've been writing the past year. Yes, my superhero series is finished and I couldn't be happier with it. Fallen Love joined Super Love and Crypto Love, finishing out the Justice Fraternity Chronicles. There really is nothing like finishing something that puts me in a great mood.





Fallen Love
A fallen superhero finds new love, but can he keep it?

After the love of his life turned evil, Sparrow throws himself into making the world better. Between battles, the extraordinary superhero is also the sole caretaker for his toddler daughter. Without the ability to speak, Sparrow worries about how he can effectively parent, so he turns to renowned scientist Dr. Erica Simons for help.

Erica succeeds in giving Sparrow his voice, but her research is highly controversial. When she becomes a target for a nefarious scheme, Erica will have to rely on Sparrow and the Justice Fraternity for protection.

As the bad guys close in, Sparrow and Erica draw together, finding kindred spirits in one another. An evil from Sparrow's past returns and will do everything it can to destroy all Sparrow loves, with Erica and the Justice Fraternity at the top of the list.


Buy Now at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Fallen-Love-Justice-Fraternity-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B00NJ02GU0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1411323876&sr=8-1&keywords=Fallen+Love+by+stephanie+beck


Buy Now at Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fallen-love-stephanie-beck/1120339993?ean=2940150458147


Buy Now at All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-fallenlove-1623790-143.html








Ah, superheroes. I love them so much. Again, with the happy. I hope you'll pick up your copy of Fallen Love, and the rest of the Justice Fraternity Chronicles, and get a shot of happy in your day too.


All the best,
Stephanie Beck
www.stephaniebeck.net
www.facebook.com/StephanieBeckAuthor
www.twitter.com/StephBeck123

Sunday, September 21, 2014

A whole new world...

...just like the old world?

It's a new school year! For some of my students, this means an entirely new school. For others, it means their last year (hopefully) in high school. Even for those without any changes recent or forthcoming, it means a new schedule, new teachers, and a new set of subjects.

For the past few years, I've been on the other end of that. For me, the 'new' doesn't come from subject, or from schedule, or classroom, but from students and administrators. Oddly enough, the sheer volume of students, combined with the fact that I run clubs, means that the students aren't the big change.

This year we've got an entirely new administrative staff. Over the course of six years, I've seen that happen three times now. For those of you in the wonderland of Corporate America; I know exactly what you mean by Bungee Boss.

On the other hand, with each new administrator comes a chance to reinvent the school, to make it a better place. New rules, new rewards, and new methods all combine to make each year a new place. Overall, I suppose it's just as new for us as it is for the kids just arriving from Junior High.

Sorry about the short update, but one thing that never changes; a new school year means making up new folders, grade books, and all the other paraphernalia associated with a new crop of students. Exhaustion, thy name is September.

So... see you next month!