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Saturday, October 31, 2020
Friday, October 30, 2020
Please Welcome Sara M Schaller as She Tells Us About Her YA Fantasy, The Genesis of Seven, Book 1 of The Empyrean Trilogy
1. A new portrayal of angels
From the moment I thought of this story, I knew I wanted to give the angels a different portrayal than previously seen in books and movies. I knew their backstory and history had so much unexplored potential, and I also knew I wanted to portray their diversity as well. Both of these factors make The Genesis of Seven special because my book delivers a new way to perceive and view the angels.
2. Reinterpretation of Biblical stories
Although the angels are mentioned in the Bible, I felt like their story was
glanced over and never completely explained. Since I had so many unanswered
questions, I decided to dig deeper into their myths and lore, and present my
findings in a way that recreates their origin like never before. What this
transformed into was an entertaining retelling, which is what makes The
Genesis of Seven special.
On top of these intents for my story, I also wanted it to be set across a worldwide backdrop. I wanted anyone who read this book, no matter where they lived, to be able to connect with it. For this reason, The Genesis of Seven is special because it includes a global travel component full of adventure.
I believe characters make every story, so I knew I had to include ones in this book that readers liked and could root for. Each angel, each fallen, and each human in The Genesis of Seven are unique and fully-developed. No two are alike, and if anything, their differences are what make this a special book.
The last component of The Genesis of Seven that is special is the plot itself, full of hidden twists and turns, epic battles, and the bonds of brotherhood. If you love superhero stories than you’ll love this book because what better superheroes are there than the angelic ones.
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Thursday, October 29, 2020
Now Available in Print! LOVE LITES, a Collection of Romantic Sci-Fi, Fantasy, and Paranormal Vignettes
A Collection of Romantic Sci-Fi, Fantasy, and Paranormal Vignettes
(Rated G to R)
Word Count: 18.2K
$0.99 e / $6.99 p
Stories Included are:
INNIE - Katherine shows her shifter husband the value of a good innie.
A BOTTLE OF LOVE - Fighting a full-blown cold, the last thing Marlow expected was a handmade gift from Liston.
THE COLOR OF ROSES - She may be a cyborg, but DeShay wants to experience what human women do...like painting her toenails.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY - Stacie and the rest of the spaceship's crew teach Gallas how to celebrate.
THE SLOT MACHINE - Wendell wins his heart's desire...whatever that is.
LADDER OF GLASS - Darra gives a heartfelt confession to her dead father.
SONG OF RELIEF - Ysidra learned it from her husband, who came from the future.
MY WORST - Carra tempts her husband, Vector, to do his worst.
PICKLES 'N ICE CREAM - When Dia asks her alien husband, Favan, to pick up dessert on his way home, he learns what it could mean.
BONDED - Peg is branded a witch and sentenced to be burned, but her new friend has other plans.
AN INFINITY OF KISSES - Illustra gets a late-night visit from a secret admirer.
THE DAY OF THE WHITE GOLD - One day on the planet determines how much water they'll have for the rest of the year.
THE GHOST OF KRISMAS PAST - Tina relives the day she lost her beloved husband...only to find out it's not forever.
COLD FAIRY MOON - When Brinn joins Sassa in watching the new year's celebrations, he ventures to suggest they have one of their own.
Wednesday, October 28, 2020
Please Welcome Nancy Gideon as She Tells Us About Her Paranormal Romance, RISE BY MOONLIGHT, By Moonlight, Book 15
Confessions of a Halloween-aholic . . .
It started with a simple carved pumpkin and a wobbly stroller along crowded and sometimes scary sidewalks when too young to make that dash to the doorway.
I LOVE Halloween! It’s been my favorite holiday since spreading that treasure trove of candy across the rug in search of that ONE piece we could have after trudging the usually rainy evening streets of our neighborhood in homemade costumes. The scent of crisp autumn air, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the ding-dong of anticipation, the rustling of that caloric bounty hitting the bottom of the pillowcase – delightful!
In later years, (when told we were “too old” to participate) the door bell ringing, the cries of “Trick-or-Treat!” and greedy bags thrust out in front of ghoulish or cartoonish faces brought back that rush of excitement. Then, when I became a home dweller with my own front porch, everything changed. I became a . . . Halloween-aholic.
The symptoms weren’t easy to spot at first. Just a string of pumpkin lights along a railing and a ceramic Jack-o-lantern’s flashing light for year one. In year two (thanks to Son working at a Halloween store with an employee discount!) came the first three buildings of Halloween Town (I should have known better after my addiction to my Christmas Village!) and a huge gauze-trailing Pumpkin Head stretching across the ceiling. The third and fourth year, my addiction ran wild.
Suddenly every available space in our street-facing dining room was covered with the macabre! Even huge faux spiders (my all-consuming phobia!) climbed the porch rails and window sills while eerie wails and moans from my now massive village filled the air! Every available space screamed of All Hollow’s Eve, from my workplace to the pets, and even my nails! I was out of control!
When did I start storing more orange tubs than red and green in the basement?
This year should be epic! When prices dropped at son’s place of employment, three carts full of horrific delights followed me home but never got displayed because – sigh, Michigan. Cold, bitter wind and rain ruined 2019. So, 2020, with or without Trick-or-Treaters, will begin with a groan and end in a howl from our front lawn graveyard, complete with tombstones, gates, and fog. It’s going to be Spooktacular!
I’d better get more orange tubs!
Max hadn’t visited that dark portion of his past for a very long time. Why now? Because of the life his mate carried? Or were the dangerous shadows of unfinished business reaching out from a swampy grave, a reminder of things he’d rather forget?
A rocking chair’s familiar creak. He tensed and twisted anxiously in the throes of his dream. Icy fingers of caution and loss clutched his chest as eyes darted behind closed lids. Unable to deny his desire to look again upon the worn elegance of his mother’s features, he faced his dread the way he’d addressed his life, with a cautious, reluctant need to know the truth . . . of who and what he was.
Shadows, like those long-ago secrets, hung thick, revealing little of the dark head bent over the child Marie Savoie held in arms both protective and comforting. Max wished she’d look up to feed time-starved memories, craving the gentle curve of her smile and loving warmth in her gaze. He settled for the steadying croon of a voice from the past.
“What is it, Max? Another bad dream? They can’t harm you.”
As much as he loved her, then and now, he’d never quite believed that assurance. Bad things existed beyond the rusty gate imprisoning his youthful curiosity within their overgrown yard for the first five years of his life. He knew because he was one of them, a child of the unnatural world. All he’d wanted was to find his place within it. But his mother had hidden that knowledge from him, just as she’d kept the outside away for as long as she could
“Mama, what’s wrong with me?” that small voice sobbed.
The rocker continued to complain as she stroked the child’s black hair. Her tender gesture failed to calm either boy or the man he’d become.
“Nothing’s wrong with you, Max. You’re perfect. They just don’t understand, so they fear you. That’s why you must be careful to never let them see the truth.”
“What truth?” he’d pleaded. “Mama, tell me!”
Low and soft, Max repeated from where he watched, decades away, “Mama, tell me.”
She brushed a kiss across the top of the child’s flushed brow then slowly straightened, turning toward Max Savoie, a surreal voyeur from the future she’d never see. Her gaze swam with tears like liquid silver before flaring bright, then hot.
“Max,” she crooned, “you’re just like me.”
Tuesday, October 27, 2020
Monday, October 26, 2020
Sunday, October 25, 2020
Saturday, October 24, 2020
Friday, October 23, 2020
Please Welcome Tanith Davenport as She Tells Us About Her Paranormal Erotic Romance, Spiritwalker, Some Like It Haunted
Some Like It Haunted
What is it about this book that makes it special?
Working on Spiritwalker was a new experience for me, just as working on the previous story Tamar Rising was. Tamar Rising was the first sequel I had ever written, and in Spiritwalker I now have the concluding part of a trilogy.
When I began the first story in the trilogy, I Heard Your Voice, my heroine Tamar Steele was a downtrodden paranormal investigator being used for her psychic ability by the team’s celebrity medium, Reed James, while nursing a secret love for fellow team member Jason. Her ability to attract spirits by singing was what made her come into her own. Now, in Spiritwalker, Tamar is a fully fledged medium in a relationship with Jason, but her powers unexpectedly draw her into a murder investigation and force her to rekindle her now-struggling relationship to solve the mystery.
I received a lot of feedback from readers about how they loved to see Tamar perform and also loved to hate Reed, who was irresistibly arrogant. So in Spiritwalker we get to see more of Tamar performing as a medium and more of Reed at his insufferable best, plus Jason in his geeky glory and new character Asher, who seems to exist to drive Tamar to distraction but whose skills as a smudger prove pivotal to solving the murder.
I hope you enjoy it!
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Thursday, October 22, 2020
Please Welcome Susan Mac Nicol as She Tells Us About Her Paranormal/Urban Fantasy MM Romance, Double Alchemy
Have you ever had that creepy sensation that someone was behind you when you look in the mirror…?
Carrie Benton kicked off her shoes, did a little twirl around her bedroom, and sank gladly into the armchair beside the bay window that looked out onto the street. She gazed down dreamily at the road below, still seeing Gerald’s tanned face smiling down at her, still feeling the gentle touch of his hand against her arm. She decided there and then that it had been the perfect evening. Nothing could mar this, she mused, and it would be even better in the morning when he came to collect her for breakfast and they would share the whole day, not just the evening.
Tosca chose that moment to make his entrance, his pitiful meow shaking her out of the dream world she was currently in. Carrie gathered the cat into her arms. ‘Hi there, cattykins, who’s hungry then?’ she crooned into his fur. He arched his back and playfully shot his paw at her. She giggled and set him down on the bed where he regarded her with an air of suspicion.
‘I am going to fix you some food,’ she teased, ‘right after I wash my face and get my dressing gown on. You’ll just have to wait a while.’
Carrie switched on the en-suite bathroom light and hummed to herself as she picked up the facial wash from the shelf. She heard Tosca scratching the coverlet of her bed in what she assumed was act frustration at being thwarted out of his food. ‘Not long,’ she sang out, ‘Then I’ll get you your dinner and I’ll tell you all about Gerald and our date.’
Carrie heard Tosca hiss as if to say,’ Damn your date, just fix me some food!’ and she heard a soft plop as the cat jumped off the bed. A minute later she shivered as she felt a sharp cold draft blowing through the bathroom. Darn cat, she thought, he must have squeezed through the bedroom door to the landing and left the door open.
Carrie smeared the facial wash over her face, mixing it with water from the tap. The soapsuds bubbled on her skin. As she splashed warm water on her face, she thought she heard someone behind her. She looked up into the mirror, her face dripping water. Gerald stood there, framed in the entrance to the bathroom. She peered at him through a veil of soapy tears, thinking at first it was a trick of the light, or perhaps some water in the eyes making her vision blurry and unstable. It was only when she felt the quick bloody pain across her throat and smelt the scent of his Brut aftershave mixed with her blood that she realised, too late, it was Gerald and that her dream date had just turned into a nightmare.
They lay beside each other in Cade’s bed, snuggled under the covers together. It was a large king-size bed, one they’d made the most of it that evening. Quinn turned and regarded Cade with drowsy eyes as his fingers trailed soft patterns across his chest. Cade caught his breath at Quinn's lazy touch, his body still jazzed up from their love making. Quinn fingered the small metal piercing in Cade's left nipple with lazy indolence. Cade's hands caressed Quinn's stomach, lingering on an ugly, puckered three-inch scar which stretched down to his left hip.
“You seem to be getting used to this whole situation,” Quinn murmured. He caressed the nipple piercing. "And this was a nice surprise. You didn't have it in the other night. I think I explored you enough to know you don't have any more anywhere." He grinned wickedly as Cade's fingers pinched his hip.
Cade laughed softly. “I took it out for the benefit dinner. It doesn't fit well under a dress shirt. And as for all this -I don’t believe it all myself. But I don’t seem to have a choice. You’ve made that quite clear. And I have to say it’s not all that much of a hardship. You’re a pretty personable and sexy guy and to be honest, this just feels –so right- somehow.” He licked a wet tongue down Quinn's shoulder and grinned as Quinn lost his breath.
Cade murmured, “I saw you in the paper with a man called Adam Carnover.”
Quinn started and looked at Cade with hooded eyes.
Cade watched his eyes. “Is he still in your life? The papers seemed to think you were getting married. “
Quinn leaned over and kissed his forehead softly. “I wouldn’t be here with you if I was with another man. Adam isn’t in my life any longer.”
Quinn frowned, his face dark. “We had a difference of opinion and decided to go our separate ways.”
“Was he like me, or was he normal?” Cade asked curiously, glad that the man was no longer around but still intending to find out more about their past relationship.
Quinn was still. “He was normal, nothing like you,” he said shortly.
Cade could tell he really didn’t want to talk about his ex. Wisely, he let it rest for the moment. “Another thing you haven’t told me. Who was that man I saw in the forest that evening? Was that something to do with you?”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed as if debating what to say next.
“Are you going to tell me?” Cade watched him closely. He reached down and grasped Quinn's semi erect cock. "Or do I have to suck it out of you like I did earlier?"
Quinn gave a low laugh and sat up, the bed covers draped across his waist as he leaned back against the headboard. "As much as I find that idea very appealing, I think I need to recuperate first. I don't think I've got any moisture left in my body after that very intense blow job. But please feel free to repeat the experience in a little while."