Lightning and Dentists

Happy Halloween Everyone!

Jianne Carlo signing on for this hallow eve’s blog. I write all genres for a variety of publishers including, Loose-Id, Etopia Press, and Passion in Print. Fear, horror, pumpkins, costumes, kids – all adjectives you can apply to Halloween. Yet, the overwhelming image associated with the holiday is fear.

What scares you?

It’s my theory that what scares a person starts with two basics, your personality and your early childhood. Many would argue much more makes up fear, your religion, your ‘first experiences’ and your journey through life. Agreed.

There are two things in life that scare me – lightning and dentists.

When I was a little girl growing up in Trinidad, I was a total tomboy (still am), and I loved wild things, storms in particular. My mother hated storms and would lock me and my three brothers in the house until the worst was over. But, my room overlooked an orange grove and there was a back window I could easily climb out of.

I have no memory of this incident, just what was related to me many, many, times later (I was five at the time). Apparently, during a violent thunder and lightning storm, I stole out the window and shimmied up a limb tree (another favorite part time I enjoy to this day – ascending trees). Lightning struck the tree and broke it in half. My mom did a regular count during storms, found me missing, and they eventually discovered me unconscious to the side of the felled tree. I’ve been known to hide in closets during storms, with my three boys.

Dentists. Sigh. During my college days, every summer home I had to see the dentist, a close family friend. I went for a regular check up – no cavities. During the cleaning and polishing the dentist somehow managed to cut my tongue. I had to have four stitches. You’ve no idea how big a tongue can swell. Of course, the only worry I had was – would I still be able to kiss? (come on, I was in college, it was a credible worry). BTW, the dentist sent a bill!

Imagine my abject terror not two weeks ago – regularly scheduled checkup at the dentist during which a fierce thunderstorm broke out. It happened in the middle of a cavity replacement. I swear they had to mop the chair afterwards I sweated so much. I had nightmares for eleven nights straight.

But when I write thrillers, it’s the mental scare that I love to explore. Here’s a scene from White Wolf, a contemporary paranormal.





White Wolf blurb:

“I’m counting to ten and then I’ll start shooting,” Sheriff Gray White balanced a rifle on one shoulder and held a spotlight at eye level effectively blinding the perp.

“My name’s Sorcha McFadden, officer, and as you can see I’ve been skinny dipping,” his very naked, very sexy perp announced.

Stunned, White Wolf Gray can’t reconcile the nude, auburn-haired nymph, Sorcha, with his little sister’s childhood best friend. Especially when fate and his own body decree her his mate.

At thirteen, Sorcha watched Gray screwing Tonya Hazzard, the captain of the cheerleading team, from her perch in the hayloft. The image of his pumping hips invaded Sorcha's every fantasy, propelled her every climax from that day forward.

They're destined for each other, except... Sorcha doesn't believe in the supernatural, but her life—as well as the answers to the mystery surrounding her parents' murder-suicide fifteen years—earlier depend on it.

Gray's the only thing standing between her and certain death, but her grandmother's last message was "Trust no one."

Does that include Gray?

Excerpt:

Man, small towns had become microcosms of big cities. Honestly, the news in Twisp reflected Chicago's on a bad night. Sorcha switched stations and discovered that after the news on a Saturday night in Twisp, the choice of programming varied between God and paid infomercials.

Surrendering, she grabbed a magazine, headed to the bed, and slipped under the covers. White settled on the daybed in the sunroom, doing a few of those loud Snoopy yawns she loved.

Sorcha listened to branches scraping the roof, a few unexplained squeaks, and the wind knocking something on the porch. In Chicago, the hum of ever-present traffic masked scary noises at night.

She'd read the same paragraph three times and had about decided to turn off the lights when she heard a weird noise like a child moaning. White woofed, and she heard his toenails click against the sunroom's tiled floor.

“Come here, boy,” she whispered and patted the bed. The Lab ignored her command and went straight to the front door, tail and ears stiff. In the glow from the lamp in the living room, she saw the dog's hackles rise. He growled, baring his canines. The sound came again, closer this time, and goose bumps rose from wrists to nape, making her cold all over. She hugged her arms.

What was that?

White barked and scratched at the door.

She lived in Twisp now, population: 935. Nothing happened in Twisp. Oh yeah right, only wolves and mate-locking and a man whose eyes turned yellow and glowed after he climaxed.

A yelping cry that mimicked a child in pain shattered the silence. She jumped because the sound came from behind her, from outside the window at the head of the bed.

White leaped onto the mattress, barking up a fury.

A loud crack.

She twisted this way and that, trying to pinpoint the source of the explosive sound.

Another bang.

Shots?

On the front porch?

Could someone have broken one of the sliding glass doors?

Be coming into the cabin?

Sorcha held her breath.

Footsteps.

Oh God.

Her temples throbbed.

Fear strangled her ricocheting thoughts.

Please let it be Gray.

Footsteps coming her way.

She thought she heard the clack of shoes on the wooden floors. Her fingers curled around White's collar.

Her brain screamed, Run, run, run.

Her legs wouldn't move, as if someone had cemented her feet to the floor.

Gravel crunched as a car rolled down the driveway.

Finally, Sorcha's legs obeyed her brain and she ran into the bathroom, dragging White with her. The door had one of those button locks, and she knew it wouldn't stop whoever prowled through the house. She opened the cabinet above the sink and studied the shelves. Toothpaste, her razor, shampoo—She could spray shampoo in the intruder's eyes. Sorcha grabbed the razor and flicked off the safety cap.


Happy Halloween everyone,

Jianne Carlo

Here’s what had to say about White Wolf:

Let me start out by saying WOW!! I loved this book!! White Wolf has something for everybody: mystery, intrigue, betrayal, romance, and some HOT lovin'. I couldn't put it down, reading late into the night even though I had to get up and go to work the next morning. Each character adds something to the story, even the animals. Ms. Carlo gives you subtle clues throughout the book about the 'villain,' but it was well toward the end before I put all the clues together. Then she goes and throws a few twists in the mix. This was my first experience reading Ms. Carlo's work, but I can assure you it won't be the last. White Wolf is definitely a book that I would recommend. It's fast paced, so hang on and enjoy the ride!!

Title: White Wolf
Publisher: Loose-Id
Genre: Erotic, paranormal, multicultural, contemporary suspense: m/f
Format: eBook
Word Count: 73,771
Pages: 189

Trick or...Samhain? By Stephanie Burkhart

Happy Halloween to all! What a treat to be here at TRS for Halloween. I'm Stephanie Burkhart and I'm addicted to coffee, chocolate, and writing paranormal romance with werewolves.

Writers in the romance genre have taken the paranormal creatures that Halloween has inspired and used them to expand the genre of paranormal romance. I'd like to think Anne Rice's "Interview with the Vampire," really made the genre exciting and helped to invigorate it. Also, Bram Stoker's, "Dracula," and the various film interpretations made in the 20th Century have also painted creatures of the night in a more romantic light.

So what is the attraction of paranormal romance? Is it a fatal attraction between the main characters? Is it the age old theme that a "good" girl can make a "bad" boy change? Where do these creatures come from?

Over 2000 years ago, the Celts were in firm control of Ireland. The start of their New Year usually fell on 1 NOV because that was the time their harvest ended and winter started. The Celts believed that on the night before their New Year, the boundary between the dead and living worlds grew very weak and creatures of the night returned to Earth wreaking havoc. They called his night Samhain. To scare away the dead, the Celts lit bonfires and wore costumes. Vampires, werewolves, zombies, ghosts, and witches became known as creatures of the dead and every culture has their own unique stories.



Fast forward to the late 1700's when author Ann Radcliffe wrote six gothic novels. Her novels had dark castles, a brooding hero, and a heroine in distress. There were secret passages, trap doors and mysterious rooms in her stories. Supernatural events are implied, but a natural reason is given. Omens and prophecies heightened the mystery and suspense.

Paranormal goes one step beyond the gothic, involving the creatures of the night and offer supernatural reasons for events. It's the allure of the unknown, the thrill of the fantastic that hooks us into the paranormal. A vampire's bite takes the kiss one step further, invading the body in a sensual, intimate way. Eyes are the windows of the soul, revealing a werewolf's true heart.

My latest release is "Danube In Candlelight," Book 3 in the Budapest Moon series. How would you feel if you discovered your father was a werewolf? Would you embrace the feral nature of the wolf or deny your father's legacy?

BLURB FOR DANUBE IN CANDLELIGHT:

Morgan Duma has always known she's different. Her eyes have unusual gold rings around her irises, a trait she's inherited from her father. She's faster and stronger than most. Her endurance and stamina allow her to complete tasks in a quick and efficient fashion. Since she was a little girl, she knew there was only one man for her – Adam Varga.


Morgan learned to dance in Adam's arms. They grew up playing the piano together. Adam's calm, soothing presence was the perfect complement to her restless soul. Not only that, he shared her differences down to his feral eyes.

Enter Zoltan Kristos, Hungary's Minister of Reconstruction. He shares those same golden eyes that Morgan possesses. After Zoltan carries her mother's injured body out of a blazing fire, Morgan's life takes a turn she doesn't expect. Morgan discovers the reasons for her differences, and questions her very identity. Is Adam strong enough to be the man she needs him to be?

BOOK TRAILER ON YOU TUBE:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dgzUIHCRN0I

ENJOY THIS EXCERPT:

"Turn around." Adam's voice brooked no debate. She liked a man who commanded authority. Morgan turned, and he massaged both her shoulders. Heat from his hands trailed down her back. Her core warmed. Her body relaxed, reacting instinctively and with a desire she couldn't hide.

"Did I hit a nerve?" he asked.



"A nerve? In my neck?" She took a step backward to be closer to him.

"No. About your father. Is your real fear about what will happen to your mother once he turns her?" Adam kept his voice low and leaned close to her ear.

She closed her eyes briefly and faced her anxiety. "Yes."

"Morgan, our fathers' condition has a host of positive traits -- heightened senses, for example, but the best trait is the healing factor."

"I understand, Adam. That healing factor will help my mother recover from her awful injuries, but it comes with a tradeoff -- she's going to become a werewolf."

"Is it better she become addicted to morphine? That addiction is a beast in itself. Which would you prefer she'd become? The soldiers hooked on morphine have vacant eyes, and their hands tremble for their next fix. Do you want that for your mother? Fighting something she can't win against, or do you want her dealing with a manageable condition? Both our fathers are good men. They've managed it."



Morgan pursed her lips. Adam's tone was laced in objectivity and confidence, offering her a plausible reason for her father's actions. Morgan didn't want a shell of skin and bones that resembled her mother -- she wanted her mother well, both emotionally and physically. Why had she been so selfish not to see that?

"It doesn't bother you that you have these traits?"

"I'm comfortable with who I am."

Morgan spun around, pressing the length of her body against Adam, curving her hand around the nape of his neck, and bringing his lips to hers. Their mouths met in a searing kiss full of desire. Want. Warmth. Pleasure replaced Morgan's emotional pain, and she deepened the kiss between them by sweeping her tongue into his mouth.

Adam groaned, wrapped his hands around her waist, and tugged her closer. Morgan continued the kiss, nipping his lower lip with her teeth. A blast of heat from his body washed over her like an ocean wave, sending pleasure spiraling through her. God, she had never felt so wonderful.

He threaded his hand through her hair and then yanked her head back. His mouth fell to her neck. Shivers of delight followed the hard, demanding kisses he placed on her skin.

"Adam, God, don't stop..."

PUBLISHER BUY LINK: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-219/Budapest-Moon-Book-III/Detail.bok

GIVEAWAY: Leave a comment on what attracts you to paranormal romance and I'll pick one lucky winner to receive a PDF ARC of "Danube in Candlelight," a panera gift card, a stuffed clothed decorative autumn pumpkin and chocolate. Happy Halloween!


FIND ME:
WEBSITE:
http://www.stephanieburkhart.com

TWITTER:
http://twitter.com/StephBurkhart

FACEBOOK:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Stephanie-Burkhart-Author/149938795021166

GOOD READS:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4031660.Stephanie_Burkhart

Move Over Edward and Bella for an adult vampire love story like no other!

Forget the teenage angst between Bella Swan and her Edward...get ready instead for an adult vampire love story, a parnaormal romance series with all the depth and powerful beauty real women seek in their fantasy fiction.   If you've outgrown Twilight, I have something for you this Halloween season.

Get ready for my Love Covenant series from Evernight Publishing...

The first three books are already out and available wherever romance is sold.  Love Tattoo was the debut novel and follows Texas gal singer Cara Riley as she heads off to Nashville for one last shot at a singing career.  Instead, a chance encounter and unexpected kiss changes her plans - forever.  She crawls Beale Street with sexy Will Brennan and before long, she's in love deeper than she's ever been.  When she learns the truth, she has to decide how she wants to handle in.   Their love story continues with Love Scars when their undead happily ever after is threatened by Sallie Hawkins, the English vampire who made Will centuries ago.  She can't stand their happiness so she sets out to destroy them - and almost does.  Love Knots follows Will and Cara as they search for the brother Will thought long dead who just happens to be another vampire.

Coming soon from Evernight Publishing in December, book four, Love Shadows follows the threat presented when an much older, more powerful vampire named Henri decides he wants Cara as his own:

The final two books in the Love Covenant series will be out from Evernight in 2012, Love Echoes and Love Legacy,

Here is one of my favorite excerpts from Love Knots, one that demonstrates the depth and beauty of the love Will Brennan and his Cara share:

           

              “It’s part of the surprise,” he said.  “Come,  mo ghra.”

              We walked away from the highway, leaving the parking area far behind us, and onto the beach.   Above us, the February sky sparkled with ten thousand stars, each one radiant and bright.   A full-bellied moon rose in the east, promising to bathe us in its rich, silvery light if we remained here long enough.  The wind that wafted ashore rippled across the water and ruffled my hair, cooler than Will’s fingers.  Anyone else, meaning someone human, would probably have shivered but it felt refreshing to me, clear and clean and good.

            My bare toes squished in the damp sand and I liked the feel of it, not icy but still cold.  We went right down to the edge of the water where the waves sluiced up onto the beach, gentle for now.  I stood, staring at the infinite ocean as it swept out to the farthest horizon, as far west as I could see, spread out north to south as well.   The night sky stretched above me, just as endless and vast.   I felt so small and yet not insignificant at all but empowered.  If I needed a visual to define eternal, to paint a picture of what an everlasting love that I shared with Will, then there could be none better than this moment.   I stared; eyes open wide and made a mental image, a brain snapshot to last forever, something to keep and remember always.

            I wanted to sweep all of it into my arms, to embrace the ceaseless space, the immeasurable beauty, and the ageless wonder of the sea, the sky by night.   I have no idea how long I stood there as the waves washed up around my feet, silent and yet filled with more emotion than I could ever select words to express but Will stood beside me, just as quiet, my hand clasped in his.   We were part of this and we remained one.  When I turned to him, eyes brimming with joyful tears, heart overflowing with love, he faced me and with his own eyes shimmering with moisture, he spoke words now familiar to me because he used them before.

Now, however, the beautiful poetry resonated with even more meaning for us both,

            “And yet I wish but for the thing I have, my bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have for both are infinite.”

            The immensity of his love overwhelmed me, the power more enormous than anything, greater than any man made wonder.  The scope of it stretched beneath the timeless stars, the wonder of it expanded through whatever heart I possessed, and brimmed over to flood my soul.  What I had with Will Brennan, I thought, was worth all I gave up to claim it and whatever I might face at the end of time; I could because of this love.

            The truth of that sang in my soul, a greater, stronger song that any I ever attempted to sing before.  I wished I knew as much poetry as he did, Shakespeare or otherwise, but instead, the words that came into my mouth came, as usual, from a song.   Suzi Quatro and Chris Norman did a song that I loved back in the late 1970’s, vintage but with lyrics I loved so I sang some of them to Will now,

            “Our love is alive and so it begins, foolishly laying our hearts on the table, stumbling in, our love is a flame, burning within.”

             He opened his arms to me, as broad and open as the vast panorama of water, wind, and sky spread out around us and I walked into them.  I came home into his embrace and all the emotion, strong and potent, welled up in me and exploded so that I wept in his arms.   I sobbed not with sadness but with immeasurable joy, rich feelings too volatile to contain.   He wept, too, for I felt the rain of his tears, the tremors of his body against mine.   After we spent our emotions, poured them into one another, we sat down on the sand, wrapped together and listened to the wondrous night music of God.

            After a long time, secure in our contented silence, he kissed me, soothing and so sweet that I almost wept again.  Will brushed the remaining tears from my face with a gentle finger.

            “I take it you liked my surprise,” he said, voice soft beneath the pounding thunder of the waves.

            “Oh, yeah,” My voice, hoarse from tears, came out in a croak but I didn’t care and knew he would not either.  “What’s in the basket?”

            “Oh, this and that,” Will told me with such careful nonchalance that I knew the contents would be amazing.  “Some wines, some cheeses, and such.”

            The such included smoked salmon, gourmet crackers, olives imported from France, chocolate covered cherries, brie, and much more along with two lovely wine glasses.  So we sat on the beach as the moon climbed high into the sky, bathing us with amazing silver light, drinking fine vintage wine as we snacked.   Every moment tasted as savory as the gourmet finger food and contentment made me purr within like a satisfied cat.   I dreamed of some intimate romantic moments when I suggested our getaway but this exceeded any expectation I might have imagined; this felt like perfection.

            Moonlight glittered across my rings and I held out my hand, admiring them for their beauty but what mattered most to me was not the diamonds but the meaning.  Will can be a romantic man and we shared many sweet moments but this night stood out, a once in a lifetime magic interlude that neither one of us could ever forget.  There would be many more beautiful spaces in our existence but this one would remain unique to us both.

Freshness of Fall

The season of fall is here. With it comes a fresh tanginess in the air. The crisp scent. The temperatures has changed and gotten cooler which means more clothing. As I walk around I notice people doing as I am clinging to the last dreads of the good weather. Enjoying being outside until the weather makes it no longer possible for long treks in the outdoors. So I’ve been out enjoying long walks in the crisp days.

It has been fun seeing the changes and imagining how it will be in a few more weeks. I can see the changes in my neighborhood. The leaves changing and flowers waning. In the park I took a seat and watched the families having fun. The couples strolling. For myself I read in the crisp sunshine enjoying the freshness of fall.

McKenna Jeffries
http://www.mckennajeffries.com/
…. sensual, edgy, unexpected

Blog: http://www.mckennajeffries.com/blog
Updates Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/McKennaJeffriesList
Free Reads Site: http:/ /www.satinnotes.com/

Conquering Jazz - What’s a woman to do when she unwittingly makes a tantalizing proposition to her best friend?

Be brazen, bold and set some ground rules. Her offer. One night of carnal bliss. No emotion allowed.

His counter offer. A continued affair to fulfill all their sexual cravings.

His hidden agenda. Conquer to make sure their affair never ends.

Buy here at Liquid Silver Book.

A new vampire love story for Halloween

The time has finally come for the release of Heart of Darkness, my long vampire romance novel. Heart of Darkness is a very emotionally intense, passionate, and action-packed vampire romance book so be prepared to sit down for a long time and have tissues on hand.

Today I'm posting the first chapter of the book, but I am going to be posting the first six chapters, one chapter each Saturday, at my blog so you can follow me there to get a real taste for this vampire romance - http://www.indieparanormalromancebooks.com/search/label/Heart%20of%20Darkness

Here's more information about the book and where you can buy it in ebook format. It's currently available from my site in epub, mobi, html and pdf, as well as Amazon Kindle stores, All Romance eBooks and Smashwords. Heart of Darkness will also reach the Apple iBookstore, Barnes and Noble Nook Store, Sony and Kobo stores soon.

Heart of Darkness

Felicity Heaton
A vampire prince on a four hundred year old mission to avenge his murdered sister...

Aleksandr Nemov won’t stop until the last of the vampire hunter’s progeny is wiped from the Earth. Each kill has stolen a piece of his humanity, pushing him towards the black abyss all vampires hold within their hearts. Now he is teetering on the edge, close to devolving into a beast, and time is running out as he tracks the last hunter to Prague. There he finds a beautiful woman who could be his one chance for salvation, but is it already too late for him?

A vampire guard who will do whatever it takes to protect those she loves...

Elise is dedicated to her duty. It’s the only thing she has left. All that changes when she meets Aleksandr in Prague and her master grants him permission to stay at her bloodline’s mansion. She knows all about Aleksandr but none of it prepares her for how she feels when the legendary prince’s hunt becomes one for her heart. Elise battles him with all of her strength but can she stop herself from falling for the handsome hunter? When he reveals the depth of the corruption in his soul, will she have the strength to face the pain in her past and do whatever it takes to save him?

Available in e-book from:
Author's website: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/ebooks.php?title=Heart%20of%20Darkness
Amazon Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005WK6E58/
Amazon Kindle UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005WK6E58/
All Romance eBooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-heartofdarkness-620972-139.html
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/97624
Amazon Kindle Germany: http://www.amazon.de/dp/B005WK6E58/
Amazon Kindle France: http://www.amazon.fr/dp/B005WK6E58/

EXCERPT

It had been an easy kill.

Aleksandr Nemov stood over the body of the vampire hunter, their blood splattered across his black shirt and saturating the leather and metal vambraces that protected his forearms. It coated his fingers and the curved dagger they gripped, and the sweet scent of it heavily tainted the crisp night air. Strong moonlight caressed his back, throwing his shadow out long in front of him, across the hunter’s corpse.

A female.

She hadn’t been strong enough to fight his kind. Too young and inexperienced to best him. It had been foolish of her to try.

Aleksandr raised his hand and swallowed at the sight of the blood glistening on his fingers. It tempted him to taste it.

He dragged his eyes away and settled them back on the female laying on the grass of the small public space, her blood warming the frozen earth. He hadn’t fought a woman in a long time and hadn’t expected to find a hunter so soon after arriving in Prague.

The fountain nearby bubbled regardless of the frigid temperature, defiant of the frost that caused the grass around it to glitter.

Aleksandr glanced at his bloodied hands again and then closed his eyes against the temptation. He took no thrill in the hunt. Yet he found no calm in its aftermath. There was only the threat of unending darkness that beat within his chest and encroached upon his soul. It bled into his eyes. He could feel the jagged points of black that speared the red. He had too much blood on his hands but he couldn’t give up now, not when he was so close to attaining his vengeance.

With great effort, Aleksandr sheathed his dagger against his left hip and wiped the blood away.

The smell of it still permeated the air, taunting and filling him with the dark urge to feast on the hunter’s remains. He refused to obey the voice within that commanded him. His kind had fought hard against it and no Nemov had turned to the darkness. They were stronger than that, and he would die before it happened to him.

“You… what are you doing here?” A light female voice shattered the darkness within him.

Aleksandr glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She stood with the fountain at her back, the cascade of water providing wings that completed the vision of beauty. Moonlight bathed her skin, turning her round eyes dark and her hair as black as the uniform she wore.

An angel.

The red bled from his eyes, returning his irises to grey, and he straightened to his full height, desiring to look his best even when he looked his worst.

She brought her right hand up to reveal the blade clutched tightly in her fingers, held backwards with the blunt edge tucked against her forearm, ready to slash at him if he made a wrong move.

“I won’t ask you twice.” Her strength surprised him.

Such a beautiful creature.

Before Aleksandr could find his voice, she was gone. He turned, blocked her attack with the metal covering his left vambrace around his forearm, and attempted to disarm her. She dodged his counter-attack with ease and came around behind him. He spun and blocked her again, and this time managed to get a hand on her before she leapt backwards, out of his reach, and bared her fangs.

His heart beat harder.

Men-spiration!

Admit it. Go ahead. There are times when every one of us looks over the handsome stranger ahead of us in line at the supermarket or eyes the prime example of a man we see at some event and we wonder. We may spend a few precious wicked little moments thinking about just what he could do and how much we’d like it. It leads to some fantasies and when you write erotic romance, it sparks inspiration.
Since I’m happily married for seventeen years and counting I don’t indulge in my momentary attractions but I delight in dreaming. Now I enjoy those temptations vicariously when I write love scenes. Most of my male characters are not – at least in entirely – based on any one guy but I have to fall in love, so to speak, with each one of them because my heroine does. That means that I imagined intimacy with a two hundred year old vampire (Will Brennan), a werewolf who wants to be human again (Darien Wolfe’s), smoking hot Reid Ramsey (from Love Never Fails) and stern but oh how sexy Federal Marshall Timothy Campbell (Witness Protection Program). I become someone else to enjoy pleasures with Johnny Devereaux, Howard Speakman, Guy Richter, Ben Levy, Grayson Holcomb, and Connor Donavan as I write about their heated moments with the ladies they love. Oh, and Elvis too.
My guys range from a World War I flying ace turned bootlegger, a World War II solider from Flatbush, Brooklyn, a fruit farmer and ghost, a nightclub owner, and an ATF undercover agent. I’ve got a reclusive songwriter and the King of rock and roll, all in upcoming works. And I had the delicious pleasure of fantasizing about each one of them. And, just because I’m more than a little naughty I admit I enjoyed penning the sex scenes. As anyone who writes erotic will agree, if your scenes aren’t a turn on for you, they won’t titillate the reader either.
I’ve had readers ask me if I’ve done everything my characters do and I usually take the Fifth. The truth is, sometimes I have but often I’ve just written a fantasy. Some of the places where sex happens in my book are unusual and some are just every day spots. I’ve had sex in some unexpected places on occasion but I’m not telling which scenes came out of experience and which were pure imagination.
In recent days I’ve also seen a lot of discussion about what kind of romance readers prefer – erotic or sweet. I know fans of both, some who read just one or the other. I also know readers who happily read any and all flavors. I fall into that category – I like sweet stories and I like them as hot as an August afternoon in the desert. I read M/F and M/M and just recently my first F/F. If the story rocks, I really don’t care how down and dirty the characters get. Just involve me and my emotions – I’m there.
My novels range from erotic (especially the Love Covenant series with my sexy vamp Will Brennan) to the upcoming Miss Good Samaritan (April 2012 Rebel Ink Press) in which Robin and Grayson do a lot of kissing but not the deed. I write the stories my muse feeds me and hope readers will enjoy the meal.
My two most recent releases – which by some ironic twist of fate came out back to back – both fall into what I’d call a “middle of the road” category – there’s sex and it’s good but not as much as in some of my other works. Witness Protection Program is about a federal Marshall who gets close to the witness he’s sworn to protect and breaks every rule he’s promised to uphold. It’s out from Rebel Ink Press. The other, my first time travel novel, A Time To Love from Champagne Books, features that reclusive songwriter who meets an amazing woman in the middle of a thunderstorm on a remote Arkansas mountain. She’s dressed like a Victorian maid and when she claims to be from the 1890’s, he thinks she’s crazy.
I’m excited where my career is heading and about the releases coming out. Next up will be my first ever Christmas release, Sing We Now of Christmas out December 3 from Rebel Ink Press. Jessica and her Johnny Devereaux enjoy some sensual moments but it’s a poignant love story filled with hope.
In the meantime I’m writing on the next…a World War II romance and I’m checking out all the men I see for those moments of fantasy I call inspiration!

How Paranormal Romance Found Me by Natalie-Nicole Bates

If you would have asked me six months ago what genre I write, I would have told you contemporary romance without a hesitation. Indeed, my first sale this past summer is a contemporary romance titled Change of Address, which will be available from Secret Cravings Publishing this coming January, 2012.

Paranormal is an fascinating genre that has always interested me. But as a book reviewer, I've seen it all--vamps, weres, shifters, zombies--writers were already heavily writing in this genre, and writing it well. I felt that if I ever wanted to write anything for this genre, I would need to find a new idea, a fresh idea.

I am an avid collector of Victorian and Edwardian era photography. To me, there is much beauty in these amazing stills. This past spring, I found a photograph available from an online seller that completely captivated me. The size of a postcard, but printed on much thicker stock, was the image of a funeral home (I come from a long line of folks in the funeral care business). Outside, a handsome man stands proudly with his hands clasped in front of him, most likely one of the owners at the time. Although the photo is slightly faded, you can still clearly make out the reflection in the glass of a black funeral carriage tied with elaborate ribbons. The back of the photo reads in very elegant script, Week of Oct-11-1896.

Although the photo was pricey, I splurged and bought it. Little did I know at that time, I had found the inspiration for my first paranormal, a short, called Antique Charming.

When I finally held the photo in my hand, I was in love. It was then that a thought struck me. What if a very lovely woman who is just starting out in her own funeral care business, buys this particular funeral home, determined to restore it to its former glory? And what would happen if she were to receive a visit from the very handsome man in the photo who still claims to own the funeral home?

This is how Antique Charming came to be. I am now constantly asked why this story is so short. My reason is because Antique Charming was never meant to be a full length novel, but simply a delightful bite of paranormal romance to be enjoyed by the reader in a short period of time. Perhaps at some future time I will speak with my publisher about lengthening it into a full novel. But for right now, my photographs are beginning to speak to me again and inspiring me to write another paranormal tale.

Antique Charming is available at: Books to Go Now Publishing.

Natalie-Nicole Bates is a book reviewer and author.

Her short paranormal romance, Antique Charming, was published by Books To Go Now Publishing in October 2011 and her contemporary romance, Change of Address, will be published by Secrets Cravings Publishing in January 2012.

Her passions in life include books and hockey along with Victorian and Edwardian era photography. Natalie contributes her uncharacteristic love of hockey to being born in Russia. 

She currently resides in the UK where she is working on her next book and adding to her collection of 19^th century post-mortem photos.

Visit Natalie-Nicole online at www.natalienicolebates.com

Gambling and Swearing in the Middle Ages

by Michelle Miles

I’m excited to be here today and talk about my latest release from Ellora’s Cave, One Knight Only. This historical with paranormal elements is the story of a modern woman who goes back in time to the mid-1300s. She wakes up in bed with a hot Scottish knight.

Meet Maggie Chase. She’s a do-gooder who needs and wants to help everyone she can. She’s a student of medieval history and is researching her thesis on a famous jousting hero. She’s traveling alone through the lowlands of Scotland and winds up in a rain storm at night. The only shelter she can find is a run-down deserted castle…that happens to be haunted.

Sir Finian “Finn” McCullough has been a ghost for more than six hundred years. He is stalked by an angry faery princess, Elyne, who thinks he killed her lover on purpose during a jousting match. He finally sees a way to break the curse he’s under when Maggie steps across the threshold of his enchanted castle. He convinces Elyne to send him and Maggie back to a time before the doomed jousting tournament.

Maggie quickly learns that Finn has a gambling problem and she’s tasked with keeping him alive and out of the gambling tents if she’s to get back to her own time.

I started researching the book about the time I started writing it way back in 2005 (that’s a whole ‘nother blog post). I bought books on jousting and spent a lot of time searching specific information about jousting, tournament banquets, the Tree of Shields, where they lived during tournament, etc. I picked the mid-1300s because of some research I found that King Edward III held a tournament in England after one of his victories in France in the early years of the Hundred Years’ War. I also searched for information on speech. I found a great resource for speech of the time where I learned great phrases like, “God’s Teeth!” and the insult, “a plague-sore boil upon humanity.” I feel sure I can use that in everyday conversation today, don’t you?

One of the things I wanted to write into the book was actual jousting. So I did a lot of research on how to do it, what they wore, how they rode, etc. Then I knew I wanted my heroine to do the actual jousting. How did I pull that off? You’ll have to read the book to find out. :)

Another thing I researched was card games and dice games in the Middle Ages since I had a heroine with a gambling problem. The dice game, Hazzard, was the predecessor of today’s Craps. Playing cards were actually introduced to the Western Anglo world in the mid-1300s. The suit system that we know today (hearts, clubs, spades, diamonds) was adapted by the French in the fifteenth century and referred to as a French deck. Other regions had their own suits (e.g. Germany, Italy, Spain) which included cups, swords, coins, and batons (or sticks); others had animals, flowers, etc. For my story, I went with the familiar and used the French deck during the gambling scenes.

I hope you enjoy reading One Knight Only. It was super fun to write!

Huzzah!

Michelle Miles writes contemporary, paranormal and fantasy romance and loves to use medieval swear words and drink ale. She believes in knights in shining armor and happily ever after. Find out more about her and her books by visiting her website at http://www.michellemiles.net/ where you can read her blog and sign up for her monthly newsletter, The Monthly Grind.

Behind the Scenes of Moon Child by Em Peters

I come from a huge Irish Catholic family, which means lots of aunts, uncles and cousins. We’re scattered across the US and several countries, but somehow, when the family gets together, they come together in a very spiritual sense. I’ve seen this time and again, through birthday celebrations and graduations. And also at funerals, which is where the spark for my debut release MOON CHILD ignited.

The deep sense of family is the basis of MOON CHILD. The enormous family rallies twice a year, during the summer and Christmas holidays, in a place called Wing Landing. When Jack Winters is adopted and plopped into the chaos of a huge family for the first time, he feels like a fish floundering for air.

And he instantly finds a dark secrets looms over his new family—a secret he’s desperate to uncover.

MOON CHILD is set in rural Pennsylvania, where I reside. The setting is taken directly from my world. From the wildlife to the seasons to the old junk cars that are left to rot in the fields. The beauty of the countryside filters into the world of my characters.

This book crosses genres. It’s paranormal fiction mixed with romance and family saga. You’re introduced to the characters as children, and watch them grow, learn and evolve into the passionate people who are driven to break a centuries-old pact. Paranormal events happen to these very real people. And as in most books, there’s always a love story.

Read on for an excerpt from MOON CHILD, now available from Whiskey Creek Press.

When eight-year-old orphan Jack spies an otherworldly girl seated in the crook of a cherry tree, he’s instantly smitten with the dark waif known as the “Moon Child.” Over time they become inseparable and the steel tendrils of tenderness take hold of Jack, especially on nights of the full moon, when she seeks sanctuary in his bunk, begging him to silence the voices she hears.

Frantic to find a way to help, he is thwarted by family at every turn. By the time he’s an adult, his determination to uncover the secret drives him to defy the family’s strict orders and he learns his childhood love has transformed into the bonedriven need to be part of her life in a brand new way.

To free her from the life she fears, he first must trust himself. Only then can he break the pact naming the woman he loves as Guardian of the Indian Six Nations, which forces her to wander the night protecting their peoples and ensuring the Montgomery family’s prosperity, but to her, means certain death.

Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xmJ_Pqk0A9Q

Jack slouched on the long leather seat, wondering how he’d be punished if he puked in the big black car. The bumpy country roads didn’t help. His tummy rolled, flipped, bubbled up his throat. His cheeks flamed as the car tires hit the gravel lane, and by the time it rolled to a stop, his clothes felt sticky with sweat. He pressed his moist forehead to the tinted window and peered out at a sea of strangers and an astonishing house.

Walker—or Jack’s father, as he would now be called—flashed his sparkling movie-star smile at the boy and said, “Welcome to Wing Landing, Jack, my boy!” and then climbed into the melee.

The long black car was swarmed by relatives. One little kid with white-blond hair dangled over the top of the car door like a monkey and ogled Jack. Jack met the bright eager eyes, and the boy waggled his tongue at him. Then he vaulted down and took off running.

A hand reached inside to clasp Jack’s shoulder and draw him into the ruckus. He shrank into Hope’s—now Mother’s—side, comforted by the sweet smell of her perfume which made him think of the flowers that grew at his first foster home.

“ Everyone,” she said in a voice that sounded as soft and tinkling as wind chimes, yet the family stilled at once to hear, “this is our son, Jack. Be sure to welcome him to our family.” She bent to shoot a pointed look at a small knot of children, who nodded solemnly beneath her gaze.

He found himself passed between the hands of adults: shaking, hugging, patting, and even kissing his cheeks in welcome. After one aunt kissed him, he felt the sticky ring of her lipstick mark tightening his skin. He dug his knuckles into his cheek, trying to wipe it off. When he looked up he saw her eyes were laughing. She extracted a dainty handkerchief from her skirt pocket and dabbed away the mark.

Jack was jostled into the ancestral country house by way of a great front porch. It was wrapped in wooden shakes, a mixture of brown and gray like an old dog. He noted the comfortable give of the floorboards beneath his feet before he was swept through the double front doors. The first glimpse of the interior blurred by—light fixtures dripping raindrop crystals, the heads of boars mounted on walls, a staircase that resembled something from a castle and people…dozens and dozens of people.

The adults moved off in a massive, noisy crowd, leaving Jack alone in the grand foyer. Only he wasn’t alone. He was surrounded by children who smiled and whispered behind their hands. He wished his face wasn’t burning. He wished his stomach wasn’t churning. He wished the wooden floor would swallow him up. The return of his stomach cramps may be useful—if he bolted to the bathroom he would escape the smiling kids. He wished they’d go away.

Buy Moon Child: http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=938&zenid=65d47ff71a5fe111c38c84ee4e9564c0

Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear from you!

Em Peters

www.empeters.com

The Importance of Music

“Where words fail…music speaks.” ~ Hans Christian Andersen

Music. It’s always been an important part of my life. Probably more important than most who know me even realize. Take away my books, and I could go on. After all, I’d still have the voices in my head to keep me company. Take away my music…I cringe just thinking about it. I can’t imagine life without music.

Growing up our house was constantly filled with music. Whether it was The King and I or Anne Murray, Styx or Simon & Garfunkel, there was always music playing. We are a music loving family. And on those rare occasions when the stereo wasn’t going, one of us was usually practicing for an upcoming band or orchestra performance.

Me, I played the bass (string and electric). I was good at it, first chair. But what I always wanted to be good at—hell, great at—was playing the piano. I adore the piano. Honestly, adore isn’t a strong enough word. Sure, as a child I played the piano. Sure, I was an adequate player. But I wasn’t fantastic at it. It wasn’t a natural talent of mine the way the bass was. Oh how I wish it was.

My favorite piece to listen to is the Theme from Somewhere in Time. What an amazing composition. It’s loaded onto my MP3 player amid Nickelback, Shinedown, Theory of a Deadman, and Breaking Benjamin, and on my way to work, when the song switches from ‘Bad Girlfriend’ to ‘Theme from Somewhere in Time’ I crank the stereo and enjoy. And wonder…

What would it be like to play like that? To have a natural, incredible ability to sit down at the piano keyboard and have music flow from your fingertips? To have it play through your mind, a soundtrack to your life, the way words play through my mind? I can only imagine.

And so I did.

Thirteen years—that's how long Isabeau Montgomery has been living a lie. After an automobile accident took her mother's life, Izzy hid herself away, surviving the only way she knew how. Now she is happy in her carefully reconstructed life. That is until he walks through the door of her bar...

Black Phoenix singer/front man Noah Clark came to Long Island City with a goal--one that doesn't include an instant, electric attraction to the dark-haired beauty behind the bar. Coaxing her into his bed won't be easy, but he can't get her pale, haunted eyes nor her skill on the piano out of his head.

Can Noah help Isabeau overcome the past? Or will her need to protect her secret force her back into hiding and destroy their chance at happiness?

~*~

Chapter One

Isabeau Montgomery sat in the dimly lit bar and shook like an amateur before her first recital. Her gaze, blurred by the sudden threat of tears, settled on the keys before her. Her stomach cramped painfully, yet the need was too great to ignore.

With ability as natural to her as the color of her skin, she began to play. The waterfall of music filled the air, washed over her, completed her in a way nothing or no one else ever had. Against the razor sharp sting of memories, she fought…

She was young, vibrant, and born with a raw talent rarely seen. Classical, jazz, or rock and roll, she played it all. Loved all the genres—loved to create. All that mattered was her joy, her love for the instrument beneath her fingers and the music she was so skilled at creating.

For a good ninety seconds, joy returned, the rush of adrenaline and, conversely, the sense of belonging. In those seconds, time slowed, the lines between the past and the present blurred, and she was a child again. There was no longer pressure to be something she couldn’t be, no fear of what her future would hold.

And with the innocence of youth, no idea that everything she held dear could be lost in the blink of an eye.

The song built to a crescendo then quickly faded as pain, her old friend, returned with enough force to quash her joy. Her stomach roiled. Her breath caught.

Tears gathered in her eyes, and she dashed them away. Isabeau ran her hands up and over her face, pushing her long mass of ebony hair away from her forehead. She struggled to pull herself back together. Her fingers were chilled, cooler than normal, yet perspiration pooled at the small of her back. She closed her eyes, took a deep, slow breath.

“I didn’t expect that old thing to be in tune.”

Sweet Jesus.

She jumped at the deep baritone voice, slamming her knees into the piano. The key cover abruptly closed, and she startled again. Heart racing, she rose and faced the double doors she’d obviously forgotten to lock.

She swept her gaze around the bar’s dim interior until she spotted a dark, male frame. “The bar is closed.”

Her tone was sharp, curt, and left no room for argument. Under different circumstances, she wouldn’t inflict such rudeness on a customer, but he intruded on her privacy, her pain. Her emotions were too close to the surface for niceties.

His voice rang with a clipped British accent and the tone of someone unaccustomed to being questioned. “I was here earlier.”

She remembered the voice and didn’t need him to step out of the shadows to recognize him, which he did anyway. She’d served him a few hours ago—dark lager, no glass—and shared with him a smile as powerful as it was sexy. “We were open earlier. Now, we’re closed.”

His eyebrow shot up. His mouth shaped itself into an ironic curve. “So you have said.”

“Then perhaps you should leave.” Hands unsteady, she bussed the table closest to her and carried the glasses to the bar. His words stopped her cold.

“You’re very talented. How long have you played the piano?”

No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. She closed her eyes on a wave of emotion, doing her best to will him away. But even then she knew. The man at her back was not going away.

She focused her gaze on his reflection in the mirror that ran the length of the bar. He was tall and lean, with eyes that shone with intelligence, even in the dim light. His hair was a mix of medium and dark blonde, worn long enough it fell across his forehead, nearly into his eyes, and brushed the collar of his shirt. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw.

The fine hairs on her arm stood on end as he crossed to her. She edged to the side and turned to face him. “I don’t play.”

“Of course you do. You were playing when I entered.”

“You’re mistaken.” She countered his step forward with one in retreat, ensuring that she remained out of arm’s reach.

With a frown, he stopped. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

It never occurred to her to fear for her safety, even though the bar was empty but for the two of them, the lights dimmed in deference to the late hour.

“Let me start again by introducing myself.”

“I know who you are.”

“You do?”

Of course she did. He was the person who brought back her desire to create, whose presence in the room made something inside her sing out. He was the reason she’d been driven to play tonight, after years of resistance. The reason the siren song continued to play in her head, louder than ever before.

AFTER MIDNIGHT by Sarah Grimm
Available at The Wild Rose Press, Amazon, Barnes & Noble

~*~

Sarah Grimm is an award winning author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. She lives in West Michigan with her husband, two sons and three miniature schnauzers. Between mom's taxi service, parts runs, and answering the phone for the family marine repair business, Sarah can be found curled in her favorite chair, crafting her next novel.

Find Sarah here:

Website: http://www.sarahgrimm.com

Blog: http://www.authorsarahgrimm.blogspot.com

Group Blog: http://www.smutwriterssoapbox.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/SarahGrimm.Author

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/SGrimmAuthor

That Certain Place

The other day I took evaluation of some things. As I went over what has been happening in my life lately I got to that certain place. The place where I feel a sense of relief, accomplishment, and all around happy. I am taking time to appreciate and be thankful. My belief once again has been proven. The way you are with others will shape what happens to you. Negativity or plain ugliness is such an unnecessary thing. No, I’m not saying you should be Pollyanna all the time. Just be an good person. A positive one as much as you can. Yes shit happens and life sometimes sucks but at least you are living. So live instead of trying to break others down. Build them up.

This is a very basic thing. It will help you get to a certain place that lets you know life no matter the bumps in the road is there for all to enjoy

Taige Crenshaw
http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/
…increasing the sizzle factor

Blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog
Chat Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/crenshawcafe
Newsletter: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/newsletterandgroups.shtml
Free Reads Site: http://www.satinnotes.com/

Power of Instinct - A woman does whatever is necessary to protect the man who is hers but once he finds out he goes with his instincts and makes her his.

Buy here at Total-E-Bound.

What A Difference A Year Makes!

Sometimes I feel like I need to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming.  Just one short year ago I existed in a waiting mode for my first novel to debut.  The very first novel contract for Kinfolk with Champagne Vooks was one I signed was in July 2010. Publication was scheduled and that year seemed like a very long time.   Since patience is a virtue I have yet to perfect I couldn't see waiting so I submitted some other manuscripts.  The first accepted was Wolfe's Lady by Evernight Publishing and the short novel debuted at the end of December.  After that things began to happen with speed.

Within a few months I had another novel out from Evernight,  a vampire romance called Love Tattoo.  By the time the sequel debuted in April, I had a series, not a stand alone novel.  The third novel appeared this past summer and book four will be out in December.  The Love Covenant series seems popular with readers.

You might think I'd been satisifed to sit back and just keep writing but I'm also stubborn so I kept submitting the novels I'd penned before that first acceptance.   Within a short time I had contracts with other publishers too including Rebel Ink Press.  My first Rebel Ink title, Love Never Fails scheduled for an August release came out in May, followed by the paperback edition in June.

During Summer 2011 - in additon to the second and third Love Covenant books (Love Scars, Love Knots) my first Champagne title came out in early July and has earned great reviews (five stars) ever since.

 I also have had a sweet historical novella from Astraea Press, The Marriage Cure and several shorts.

My short fiction has or will appear in several anthologies to add to those that already carried my byline over the past six years for a total of twenty.  The new anthologies just out or coming soon include these:

I'm also in Evernight's Christmas antho this  year, Stockings and Suspenders

Last week two of my novels debuted back to back from two publishers (which wasn't planned that way)....Witness Protection Program from Rebel Ink Press and A Time To Love from Champagne Books.

Later this month I also have a stand alone novella from Silver Publishing out just before Halloween

As I said, book four of the Love Covenant series should be out in mid December from Evernight Publishing - no cover yet for it.

I also have my first ever Christmas release - Sing We Now of Christmas from Rebel Ink Press on December 3.

Next year I have four confirmed and contracted Rebel releases - here are the gorgeous covers.  Maybe I'm biased but Rebel's own Carl J. Franklin does awesome work!

I don't have cover art  yet for In Love's Own Time, an intriuging read that combines romance with ghosts and time travel or for my May 2012 Champagne release, Long Live The King.

And of course what a difference a year makes....I tell new writers often to keep writing, to be patient and it can happen....because it has to me.

Visit my website at http://leeannwriter.weebly.com
or check out my blog A Page In The Life at
http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com

When Scary Meets Romance - The Paranormal Romance is born

I’m talking about the paranormal romance today, (well, it is almost Halloween after all).

Do you ever wonder what creatures live in the dark of our imagination and the night? Werewolves, vampires and other creatures of the night. In any other genre, they’d be terrifying to consider for most readers, but when you mix scar and romance together, you have one hell of a good book.

One of the hottest genres in romance these days is the paranormal romance. Readers can’t get enough of the undead and other creatures of the night. And writers as well as publishers are scrambling to keep up with the demand.

So what defines a paranormal romance? Well, it is a romance with paranormal characters and events. It follows the same rules that apply to all romances and it has the build up of the romance as the heart and main plot of the novel. The only real difference is that either one or both of the main characters often aren’t human, and the story itself can dip into darker waters plot-wise than a regular romance.

Like regular romance, paranormal romance covers the whole genre spectrum. They can be humorous, historical, futuristic, contemporary, mystery, fantasy, urban fantasy, sci-fi, gothic, and erotica—basically, if the romance is front and center, then it’s labeled a paranormal romance, regardless of the genre.

Okay, so turn on every light in the house, grab a comforting snack and brew, curl up by a roaring fire, and let’s take a ghoulishly fun look at something, tall, dark, and deadly. 

Let me introduce you to...The Prince Of The Night.

For hundreds of years, he's waited for her to be return—his one true love. But can Jessie accept the love from a mysterious man called Viktor Brincoveanu who claims to have her best interests at heart.


When Prince Viktor Brincoveanu falls victim to the curse he is forced to send his beloved bride Gabrielle' away forever to save her eternal soul. When the news comes that Gabrielle' has taken her own life, her death marks the beginning of his nightmare existence as Lamia. A prince cursed to exist in the dark world of the night, forever hunted and unable to free himself of the heartbreaking memories of the one woman he loved.


Read an excerpt:

Buy the book:

All the best...

Mary Eason
http://www.maryeason.com/