Moonlight Romance Authors

Warm up your winter: 'The Snow Bride'

2011-12-17T05:38:00.001-08:00

She is Beauty, but is he the Beast?

Elfrida, spirited, caring and beautiful, is also alone. She is the witch of the woods and no man dares to ask for her hand in marriage until a beast comes stalking brides and steals away her sister. Desperate, the lovely Elfrida offers herself as a sacrifice, as bridal bait, and she is seized by a man with fearful scars. Is he the beast?

In the depths of a frozen midwinter, in the heart of the woodland, Sir Magnus, battle-hardened knight of the Crusades, searches ceaselessly for three missing brides, pitting his wits and weapons against a nameless stalker of the snowy forest. Disfigured and hideously scarred, Magnus has finished with love, he thinks, until he rescues a fourth 'bride', the beautiful, red-haired Elfrida, whose innocent touch ignites in him a fierce passion that satisfies his deepest yearnings and darkest desires.

Coming Dec 27th from Bookstrand Publishing 2011
15% discount until January 3! Pre-order here.

Read Chapter One

Here is another excerpt to tempt you:

Magnus was worried. The fire he had made should have brought his people. It was an old signal, well-known between them. His men should have reached the village by now—that had been the arrangement. They were bringing traps and provisions in covered wagons, and hunting dogs and horses. He had been impatient to start his pursuit of the Forest Grendel and so rode ahead, returning with the messenger until that final stretch when the man turned off to his home. He had ridden on alone, finding the wayside shrine.

But from then, all had gone awry. Instead of the monster, he had found an ailing witch, and the snowstorm had lost him more tracks and time.

Magnus shook his head, turning indulgent eyes to the small, still figure on the rough pallet. At least the little witch had slept through the night and day, snug and safe, and he had been able to make her a litter from woven branches. He would give his fire signal a little longer and then return Elfrida to her village. There he might find someone who could translate between them.

Perhaps she did have power, for even as he looked at her, she sat up, the hood of her cloak falling away, and stared at him in return. She said something, then repeated it, and he drew in a great gulp of cold air in sheer astonishment, then laughed.

“I know what you said!” He wanted to kiss her, spots and all.

He burst into a clumsy canter, dragging his peg leg a little and almost tumbling onto her bed. She caught him by the shoulders and tried to steady him but collapsed under his weight.

They finished in an untidy heap on the pallet, with Elfrida hissing by his ear, “Why have you done such a foolish thing as to burn all our fuel?”

He rolled off her, knocked snow off his front and beard, and said in return, “How did you know I would know the old speech, the old English?”

“I dream true, and I dreamed this.” She was blushing, though not, he realized quickly, from shyness.

“Why burn so wildly?” she burst out, clearly furious. “You have wasted it! All that good wood gone to ash!”

“My men know my sign and will come now the storm has gone.” He had not expected thanks or soft words, but he was not about to be scolded by this red-haired nag.

“That is your plan, Sir Magnus? To burn half the forest to alert your troops?”

“A wiser plan than yours, madam, setting yourself as bait. Or had your village left you hanging there, perhaps to nag the beast to death?”

Her face turned as scarlet as the fire. “So says any witless fool! ’Tis too easy a charge men make against women, any woman who thinks and acts for herself. And no man orders me!”

Magnus swallowed the snort of laughter filling up his throat. He doubted she saw any amusement in their finally being able to speak to each other only to quarrel. Had she been a man or a lad, he would have knocked her into the snow, then offered a drink of mead, but such rough fellowship was beyond him here.

“And how would you have fought off any knave, or worse, that found you?” he asked patiently. “You did not succeed with me.”

“There are better ways to vanquish a male than brute force. I knew what I was about!”

“Truly? You were biding your time? And the pox makes you alluring?”

“Says master gargoyle! My spots will pass!”

“Or did you plan to scatter a few herbs, perhaps?”

He thought he heard her clash her teeth together. “I did not plan my sickness, and I do not share my secrets! Had you not snatched me away, had you not interfered, I would know where the monster lives. I would have found my sister! I would be with her!” Her voice hitched, and a look of pain and dread crossed her face. “We would be together. Whatever happens, I would be with her.”

“This was Christina?”

“Is Christina, not was, never was! I know she lives!”

Magnus merely nodded, his temper cooling rapidly as he marked how her color had changed and her body shook. A desperate trap to recover a much-loved sister excused everything, to his way of thinking.

She called you a gargoyle! This piqued his vanity and pride.

But she does not think you the monster, Magnus reminded himself in a dazzled, shocked wonder, embracing that knowledge like a lover.

Lindsay Townsend
http://www.lindsaytownsend.net

New Book from Regina Paul...

2011-12-12T12:06:00.000-08:00

Well, it's sort of a new book. It's a re-release of my title No Place to Run. It has a brand new cover that I just love because I think it really evokes the feel of despair that the heroine is feeling in the story, but also has the spiritual feel which I was really looking for.

Here's a blurb and check out my new cover!

On the run from an abusive ex-husband, Lin Chen drives through North Dakota and encounters a winter blizzard which forces her to stop on the Standing Rock Reservation. There she meets Kyle Little Eagle, a medicine man. While it isn't long before they are close, her ex is not far behind. Can Lin overcome her fear of men and let Kyle help her? Can love and a mutual connection to the Spirit World prevent her worst fears from being realized?

Coming January 2012 from Leap of Faith Publishing!

Gifts From The Afterlife

2011-11-02T12:36:00.000-07:00

Lydia Sinclair’s life has run off the rails.

Gifts From The Afterlife is my new short story included in the 2011 Christmas Anthology published by Victory Tales Express.
Blurb:
How dark must it get before Lydia sees the light?

Blurb:

She has lost everyone she loves and Christmas has lost its meaning. As Christmas approaches, Lydia wants to go to sleep and never wake up again. Perhaps an angel, some ghosts and a childhood sweetheart can convince her that life is worth living again. Can Lydia let go of what once was, renew her joy in Christmas and find the promise of hope for her future?

I'll be blogging about spending Christmas alone (my inspiration) for Gifts From The Afterlife and I will give away a copy of the anthology to someone who comments. Be sure to leave your email addy so I can contact you if you win. Now is the perfect time to start reading holiday stories.
Sarah

Check out my new book cover!

2011-10-10T14:57:00.000-07:00

Now that Publishing by Rebecca Vickery has contracted The Violin for re-issue, Laura Schwin has created a new cover for it. I love this new cover and wanted to share it with you right away.

The Violin is undergoing some referbishing and edits but should be released soon.

I hope you like this cover as much as I do.

BLURB:
Genevieve dreams of him almost every night and has for most of her lonely life. Compelled beyond reason, she buys his violin and finds the remnants of his life and the mystery of his death in 1927 revealed within its case. Intrigued, she makes a decision, one that will change her life forever.

Is there a way to change the past and save this man who haunts her heart?

'Palace of the Fountains' available as a pre-order

2011-08-05T05:28:00.003-07:00

My new romantic suspense title, Palace of the Fountains, is now ready to pre-order from Bookstrand at a discount until mid-August.

Here's the link.

Lindsay Townsend

Because He needs me

2011-07-11T11:49:00.000-07:00

Because He needs me
A new book from a young fresh company
Leap of Faith Publishing presents
Because He needs me by Lynn Granville

Oh, God, she hoped he wouldn’t come over! Janni had recognized the one man she hadn’t wanted to see at this wedding. It was ages since she’d been in the same room with Nick Hamilton, and she really hadn’t given the idea that he might be here a thought, though she should have done. It couldn’t matter, of course. Whatever there had been between her and Nick had been over years ago – when he married. Not that it had ever been very much even then!
Janni had been through several love affairs since then, the latest of which had recently ended in tears and recriminations. What was wrong with her for goodness sake? Why couldn’t she find someone who really cared, someone who would give her a home and family, and love – most importantly love?
Nick was glancing her way again, obviously deciding whether or not he ought to come over and say hello. Where was his wife? Janni hadn’t noticed her – and you couldn’t miss a woman like that! Sarah was gorgeous, so it was no wonder that Nick had fallen for her hook line and sinker.
Janni glanced across the hotel’s crowded reception room at the bride and groom; she felt a pang of envy despite her satisfaction at Alice’s obvious happiness. Sheer delight seemed to shine out of her friend’s eyes, testifying to her state of mind. Janni didn’t grudge that happiness one little bit, but couldn’t help wishing that her own life was a little more settled.
Alice and Peter were the perfect pair, and Janni had introduced them nine months ago. Her own lovelife had been blossoming then, but for the past few weeks she had been nursing a bruised ego. Fortunately, it seemed that her heart was pretty resilient, which it would need to be after the way Mark had treated her recently.
Perhaps it was a combination of seeing Nick unexpectedly, and her friend’s shining happiness that made Janni feel so dejected all of a sudden. Damn Mark! He really wasn’t worth getting upset over. One day he’d been eagerly talking about buying a house together, almost the next he was announcing that he was off to America on a three-year research project.
“So what happens to us?” Janni had asked, feeling bewildered by Mark’s sudden about turn.
“It was never going to be more than a temporary arrangement,” he’d said, taking her breath away. “Nothing is forever, Janni. Besides, this is a chance I can’t miss.”
He hadn’t asked her to keep in touch, or whether she would consider giving up her job at the local hospital to go with him. She had sensed his excitement and known he wanted to be free – and that had hurt!
The sharp pain had gone now, but she was still feeling bruised. So much so that when she saw the undeniably attractive man walking towards her, she immediately hoisted her shield into place. Why had he of all people had to be here? And why must he bother to come over and say hello?
She’d had a thing for Doctor Nick Hamilton once, when they were both working at a London teaching hospital, but he’d hardly noticed her. He had fallen in love with and married a very beautiful woman, and they’d lost touch when he moved. Until now, Janni hadn’t seen him for years, but he was a friend of Peter’s, and had been invited for the wedding. It was natural, of course, and she would have realized it if she had thought about it earlier.
“They look happy don’t they?” Nick said glancing at the bride and groom. “Peter and Alice. “
Janni took a deep breath. There was no escaping it! She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Peter had been through a rough time before he met Alice – but you know that, of course. You introduced them, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I can claim the credit for that, but they did all the rest themselves.”
He seemed amused at her quip, and hesitated for a second or two. “I know this isn’t the right time to talk shop, but Alice tells me you are thinking of changing your job – going for something new. I wondered if you might consider working for us at the surgery as a practice nurse?”
Janni was startled. He had taken her completely by surprise and she gave no thought to her answer before replying negatively. “I am flattered that you asked,” she said. “But I am happy where I am – and I’ve never considered anything but hospital work.”
“The nurses I need never have,” Nick replied and grinned. “If they had, they probably wouldn’t be what I was looking for. Don’t make that a final no, Janni. Think about it please. If you are truly happy where you are then that’s all there is to it – but if there’s even a chance you might consider coming to us, if only for a few months, I should like to hear from you.” He took a card from his pocket and handed it to her. “I think you would be pleasantly surprised if you paid us a visit. We have all the latest equipment at the surgery. Peter has made sure of that, believe me.”
Janni's heart did a quick tango but she suppressed her foolishness.
Peter and Nick were partners in the country practice as well as friends, and Alice had burned Janni’s ears with stories of how beautiful the village was – and the surrounding countryside.
Alice had been a Theatre Sister before her marriage, but she planned on having a family almost at once. “Before my biological clock runs out,” she’d told Janni laughingly. “I’ve done my stint for the NHS – and I can always go back part time when the children are at school.”
“Yes, I imagine he would,” Janni replied with a wry look. “Alice told me Peter has to have everything just so.”
“We’re in agreement as far as that goes – which is why we both want you, Janni. Why don’t you think about it? Alice is your best friend, isn’t she? It would mean you were able to see her more often, and I understand you are having difficulties at the moment.”
“I see Alice has been telling tales out of school.” Janni frowned.
“She just told me things hadn’t gone well for you, and that you were thinking of making a change. Nothing personal,” Nick assured her. He glanced at his watch and frowned. “Anyway, it was nice speaking to you again, Janni. I must have a word with Alice and Peter before they leave. Give me a call if you are interested, won’t you?” He handed her his card.
“Yes, if I’m interested,” Janni replied, tucking his card into her pocket as he walked away. Her foolish heart was still misbehaving itself. Nick was as attractive as ever, she thought, dressed in a stylish, collarless dark blue suit that showed only a flash of white at the neck and looked as if it might be Armani. It was the kind of suit that was good on young, athletic men and she recalled that he had been keen on sport when she’d known him before. His hair was dark blond and a little longer than she normally liked on a man – but why was she letting herself think about him at all? He was married and she had no intention of getting involved again for a long, long time. Especially with a married man!
She waited until he had moved away from the bride and groom before going over. “I’ve just come to say goodbye,” she said, kissing Alice’s cheek. “You look gorgeous, love – and so does Peter.”
Alice’s white lace and tulle dress was very traditional, but she had worn flowers in her hair rather than a veil, and looked sensational. Once again, Janni felt a pang of regret. She’d been so certain she and Mark would be planning their wedding soon – but perhaps what had happened was for the best. Otherwise, they might have ended up getting a divorce before long.
“Keep your hands off, he’s mine,” Alice Lennox teased. “Have you heard anything more from Mark?”
“No, not since he walked out on me,” Janni said, avoiding Alice’s eyes. “He promised to keep paying his share of the rent until I could find a new flatmate, but I doubt if he’ll bother once he gets to the States.”
“Well, I think that’s rotten,” Alice said and her eyes flashed with anger on behalf of Janni. “He could at least have stumped up the rent until you got things settled.”
Janni pulled a wry face. She couldn’t help noticing that Nick Hamilton was no longer in the room. She wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden Mark’s desertion no longer seemed to matter.
“Well, it just goes to show that Mum was right all along. She warned me not to move in with him. I should’ve listened.”
Alice nodded, then turned to listen to something her new husband was saying. Janni gave them both a little wave and left, keeping her smile in place until she was in the taxi taking her to catch the train back to London.
She hardly knew why she was feeling so down. She wasn’t still missing Mark, for goodness sake! And her mother had warned her at the beginning that it would end in tears.
“Move in with him and he will lose respect for you,” Mrs Ross had warned. “Yes, I know you think I’m old-fashioned and perhaps I am – but I don’t trust Mark Hatton and I never shall.”
In her heart Janni had wanted a white wedding and all the trimmings, but Mark had been adamant. He couldn’t afford to get married and he didn’t see what all the fuss was about anyway.
“Look around you,” he’d said over and over again. “How many of our friends get married these days? Most of them just move in together – and look at Jenny and Paul. They lived together for four years, perfectly happy, then she wanted to get married so Paul agreed – ten months later they’ve split.”
Janni hadn’t been able to disagree with his logic and she had thought herself in love with Mark then … but now she wasn’t sure whether it was Mark she’d loved or the man she had thought he was deep down.
Janni’s mother agreed with Alice that she ought to make a complete break, find herself a new job and a new place to live.
“It’s the only way, love,” Mrs Ross had told her. “Either that or move back home with me and take the train into work every day. And you were moaning about the high rent even when you and Mark were still together.”
“I certainly can’t afford it unless I find someone to share – and the lease comes up for renewal next month, so I shall soon have to decide whether to give the flat up or not.”
Janni didn’t particularly want to give up her job, nor did she want to move back home and commute every day.
She loved her work, enjoying every moment she spent with her patients on the postoperative ward, and counting herself privileged. People took medicine for granted these days, demanding more and more of their doctors, but Janni had never ceased to feel exhilarated and thrilled at the skill of the surgeons who performed near miracles day after day.
Yet recently the strain of working long hours, combined with a stressful home life, had begun to get her down a little. Perhaps she ought to have thought before refusing Nick Hamilton’s offer.
She remembered how attractive Nick had looked that afternoon. His smile had been warm and generous, and she had reacted instinctively out of a need to protect herself. She didn’t want to go through all that again!
Nick had been the first man to break her heart when he married someone else. Perhaps that was why Mark’s desertion had bruised her ego more than her heart – having had it broken once she was incapable of ever truly loving again.

The flat seemed so empty when Janni got in that evening. She frowned, disliking both the silence and her surroundings. The décor was too minimal and hard for her comfort, but she had never been encouraged to change things. Mark had liked his flat the way it was – and it had always been his. He had made that plain from the start. Janni contributed her share of the bills and housekeeping, but Mark paid the rent. When she thought about it, she realized the lease was in his name, so there was no guarantee she would be granted a new one if she wanted it!
Was it only five months since Mark had asked her to move in? Janni felt it was much longer. What had gone wrong between them? Was it her fault? Mark had told her she wasn’t really in love with him before he left, flinging it at her as if seeking to transfer the blame for their break up.
“You never wanted me,” he had said bitterly as the quarrel flared between them. “Don’t look at me as if I’m committing some kind of a crime, Janni – if you were honest you would admit I was doing you a favour by walking out.”
“If that’s the way you feel, perhaps you are,” she had flung after him. Now she realized that perhaps he had been right – they weren’t made for each other. She had enjoyed their relationship in the beginning, but she hadn’t truly been in love with him – and if seeing Nick Hamilton that afternoon had made her see that, she had better stay well clear of him or she might end up in more trouble!

“Did you have a good weekend?” Nurse Rita Jones asked as Janni paused at the staff station on S2 to pick up her schedule on Monday morning. “You look like hell. It must have been some wedding reception.”
“The wedding was fine,” Janni said. “I haven’t slept very well for a couple of nights, that’s all.” She sighed as her friend’s eyes met hers in a very direct stare. “All right, I may as well tell you, because you’ll have it out of me sooner or later – Mark left me a couple of weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t you say something before this?”
“I didn’t want to use you as a punching bag,” Janni replied, her head going up proudly. “He went off to do research in America, but I’m over it now. He’s gone – and good riddance!”
Rita grinned at her. “That’s it, girl, stick it to him,” she said. “Get it out of your system. You’re better off without him, believe me.”
Janni laughed. “Oh, you make me feel so much better,” she said. “You’ve never liked him, have you?”
“Never knew what you saw in him,” Rita replied cheerfully. “You shouldn’t have moved in with him, not until you knew him better anyway.”
“That’s what my mother said at the time.” Janni sighed. “She hasn’t said anything much since I told her he’d left – except that she would be pleased if I'd go home.”
“Are you going to move back home?”
“Not for long,” Janni said with a grimace. “I love my mother but we should drive each other mad if we lived together. No, I’m just licking my wounds, then I'll find someone to share a flat. But I’ve decided to give up the one I shared with Mark –- it’s too expensive.”
“Not going to have him back?”
“Not even if he comes crawling on his hands and knees. He hasn’t even tried ringing me since he left.” Janni picked up her clipboard and glanced through the day’s schedule. “We’ve got our usual heavy list, I see. At least I shan’t have time to think about myself once we start.”
“Have fun,” Rita said as she walked away. “How about a drink this evening?”
“Maybe. I'Il see you later.”
Janni was thoughtful as she began her first round of the day, dismissing her personal problems. A woman who had had a cancer behind her nose had been sent up to the ward that morning; it had been a very difficult and delicate operation, and after a stay in Intensive Care, she was still going to need careful nursing.
Janni began to check the notes at the end of each bed, stopping to chat to her patients and reassure herself that they were all responding, as they should. She took the temperature of one man, frowning as she realized he was a little feverish. She made a note on his chart, resolving to mention this to the doctor when he came up to the ward.
It was as she finished her round and made her way back to the desk at the end of the ward that she noticed several nurses were gathered round talking and looking at each other anxiously.
“What’s going on?”
“We’ve just heard,” Rita said. “We’ve got a bug and they’ve decided to close down three wards, including an intensive care unit.”
“Not MRSA?” Janni asked and frowned. If the hospital had picked up the super bug this was serious. “When was this announced? I was not informed when I arrived this morning.”
“I heard a whisper on Saturday but it was unconfirmed,” a nurse said. “They’ve been keeping it quiet, hoping it would turn out to be a false scare I suppose,” she went on. “You know what it’s like these days. Once the news gets out it will be all over the media. “All I’ve been told is that I was to let you know ops were off for a while.”
“Yes, thank you. I wish I had been told earlier, but that’s way things are these days. Sometimes I feel as if the NHS was a dying monster, lurching on its last legs.”
“Don’t we all,” the nurse replied. “I’ve been thinking of leaving and trying for an agency job. It’s still better pay and conditions despite the extra money we’ve been given recently.”
Janni nodded. She felt irritated as she wondered what was going to happen to her patients, especially those waiting for operations. Some of them would receive a telephone call telling them not to come in until further notice – but what of those who were already waiting to be fetched down to surgery?
Janni had always been loyal to the Service, never even considering a change from NHS to private medicine, but on days like this it made her wonder if she was using her talents to the best advantage.
The cancellation of operations always made her feel frustrated and guilty. People waited long enough for their surgery as it was – and it wasn’t easy for them to prepare themselves for the ordeal. Especially those awaiting serious surgery - it just wasn’t right!
Janni felt strongly about the injustice of leading a patient, who was suffering from a serious disease, to believe that their operation was imminent and then having to cancel at the last minute, particularly when it was through staff shortages. Of course when something like this cropped up, it couldn’t be helped. If the administration had had to close two wards and an intensive care unit, they had no choice but to suspend surgery for the moment.
If the wards were closed for several days while they were checked out and sterilized Janni would be put on other duties – providing the whole hospital wasn’t put under quarantine! It hadn’t happened yet to her knowledge, but there was always a chance. She had heard of some hospitals having to stop admitting any new patients because of the fear that the infection might spread.
Janni had some leave owing to her. She had been saving it up in case she and Mark decided to take a holiday together – but why not take it now? She was only going to be frustrated if she hung around here waiting for the go ahead to start surgery again.
Yes, why not take a holiday?
Her split with Mark had made her feel she was ready for a change. Maybe she would go down to the sea - even a few days away would bring a breath of air into her life. And while she was away, why not consider changing her job?
Oh, she wasn’t going to take up Nick Hamilton’s offer, of course – but there were other jobs around. It was just a case of looking for them.
She told Rita what was in her mind when they were having a drink in their favourite wine bar later that evening. “I always said I would never leave the hospital,” she said toying with her glass of chilled spritzer. “I’ve always loved my job – but the way things are just now…”
“I think a lot of us feel the same way,” Rita agreed. “Look, stop feeling guilty. If you make a change – say for a few months, just to give yourself a break – you can always come back. It isn’t a forever thing.”
“I do feel I need a change,” Janni said and sighed. “I suppose I could look for something...”
“Of course you could,” Rita said. “Go for it, girl!”
Janni laughed. “If I do leave, I shall miss seeing you,” she said.
“Bad pennies always turn up,” Rita replied with a grin. “Where are you going for your holiday?”
“I was thinking of the Norfolk coast – I’ll probably move around, just drive where I fancy and stop overnight.”
“My parents had a caravan down that way for years when I was a kid. It’s lovely on that part of the coast. We used to visit Blakeny a lot. I wish I could come with you.”
“So do I, but I doubt if they would let both of us go. Besides, I have a lot of thinking to do.”
“Perhaps you should leave London altogether for a while,” Rita said. “Go somewhere fresh and start a new life. I could always come and visit you for weekends, especially if you’re in the country.”
“I’ve had an offer to work in the country,” Janni said. “It’s the same surgery as Alice’s husband…”
“You should snatch it while the going’s good,” Rita said. “Just think of all that fresh air and good food.”
“Maybe,” Janni said and smiled. “I suppose I could think about it…”

Happy Fourth Of July

2011-07-03T10:10:00.000-07:00

I hope you have a happy and safe Fourth of July everybody.

Sarah McNeal

Echoes of Splendour

2011-06-29T23:35:00.000-07:00

http://booksfromlindasole.blogspot.com/2011/06/echoes-of-splendour.html
See an excerpt from my book Echoes of Splendour at my blog. It is on special offer at amazon kindle. Also learn details of how you can have a free ebook.

Happy Father's Day

2011-06-17T15:26:00.000-07:00

I hope everyone has a wonderful Father's Day celebration this Sunday. Even though my dad died in 1981, I think of him and all he taught me with gratitude and love. Enjoy your fathers while you can.

Because He needs Me

2011-06-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

Because He needs me coming soon from the Leap of Faith Publishing House and Lynn Granville. Not quite there yet but soon will be. Meanwhile, read The Witch Child/ Linda Sole. first published by Robert Hale in hardback. Now in Kindle and available at amazon and other outlets.

If you can't get it email me.

I have several ebooks to give away.

Love from Linda Sole/Anne Ireland/Anne Herries/ Lynn Granville

Interview With Sarah McNeal

2011-06-05T18:58:00.000-07:00

At KMN Books Blogspot:

http://kmnbooks.blogspot.com

Sarah McNeal is the author of memorable characters you're sure to fall in love with. Come on by KMN Books Blogspot and find out about her new release, Harmonica Joe's Reluctant Bride.

Contest:

Sarah will pick one lucky winner for the drawing. Winner's choice of either her time travel historical (1927), The Violin or her contemporary (the only one she's ever written),Bitter Notes. Be sure to include your email addy when you comment for a chance to win either of these books. The choice is yours.

I hope you'll come to see me and leave a comment and your email addy for a chance to win one of my books. I'd love to see you there. Here's the rag to get there just in case you forgot: http://kmnbooks.blogspot.com

Karen Michelle Nutt

KMN Books

KMN Books Blogspot

My Upcoming Release: Harmonica Joe's Reluctant Bride

2011-04-13T20:52:00.000-07:00

Harmonica Joe’s Reluctant Bride

By Sarah McNeal

Available at Western Trail Blazer Novels

http://westerntrailblazer.yolasite.com/online-store.php

A haunted house, a trunk and a date with destiny.

Blurb:

Joseph Wilding left his prosperous Virginia ranch and his grieving father to live in obscurity and guilt over his brother’s death until he marries Lola instead of Callie McGraw, the woman he abhors but whose life he was attempting to save.

Lola discovers a warp in time in an old trunk when she falls into 1882. She finds herself married to Joe, a stranger shadowed by secrets. Mistaken for Callie McGraw, a thief and a woman of ill repute, Lola finds her life is threatened by a scoundrel who believes she stole his money and only Joe stands between her and death.

With danger threatening all around and secrets keeping them apart, can Joe and Lola find their destiny together or will time and circumstance forever divide them?

Excerpt:

“You ever touch my wife again I’ll cripple you in a place that will make you sing soprano, Weston.” He nudged Lola toward the door and out onto the plank sidewalk. Then he stopped, letting her go abruptly. Peering down into her eyes, his own an intense coffee brown his expression turned stern. “Well, Lola, are you through playing games?” He asked with emphasis on her name as if he doubted its authenticity. “I don’t have time for your shenanigans, so make up your mind. You can either come on home with me where I can protect you or you can go on your way and take your chances on your own.”

What should she do? Without knowing where she might go or how to get there, the choices did not seem that good. “What’s to say you won’t just use and abuse me the same way that disgusting man in there would have? You might be planning on taking me off somewhere to rape me and maybe even murder me.”

Joe laughed. “If I wanted to kill you I’ve had several chances to do that all ready. As much as it might bring me some satisfaction to murder you, I don’t hate you quite that much. As for raping you, I’d sooner roll down a mountain side in a bale of barbed wire than try to get betwixt your legs, lady.”

Hi everyone

2011-03-04T03:20:00.000-08:00

Just popped in to tell you about my latest M&B. Her Dark & Dangerous Lord is the third of the Melford series and has just come out. It is the follow up to The Lord's Forced bride, which got to number 2 in the top one hundred hostorical romances at amazon kindle. I am keeping my fingers crossed that this one will do something like as well. It was lovely to see my book in the best sellers - top ten from September until the end of Feb. Now in and out of the top one hundred.

I've also had a new Linda sole out - Tears Will Not Save Them for fans of sagas.

I'll pop in with an excerpt another day.

Love to all Anne Herries

New Release from Regina Paul...

2011-01-18T13:13:00.000-08:00

I have a new release called A Gift From Home. This is my first f/f romance and I'm really excited to see what my readers think! LOL It's a bit of a different direction for me but since I've also written m/m I figured why not f/f. The story just sort of came to me and it's looking like this may be the first of a series of GLBT stories featuring f/f and m/m characters.

Blurb: Melanie has always known she was attracted to women and not men. Kicked out of the only home she's ever known when she was eighteen, Melanie has been on her own for years. Verbally abused her whole life by her mother because she is tall, big boned, tan, and god forbid, a brunette, Melanie used her mother's disappointment in her sexual orientation as an excuse to chart her own course. But when a bus ticket along with a plea to come home for Thanksgiving arrives out of the blue, Melanie is less than enthused, and suspicious. However, it is not her mother who arrives to pick her up at the bus station, but a familiar and beautiful blond.

Melanie and Loraleigh fall hard for each other, but Melanie's mother has other more sinister plans. Will they be able to stop Melanie's mother and have their fondest wishes or will their dreams of the future go up in smoke?

Just click on the cover and buy your copy today!

Happy Holidays Everyone!

2010-12-24T17:14:00.000-08:00

Happy holidays to all of you. I hope You stay safe and happy.
Sarah

Slave of Desire by Marly Mathews and Raven Willow-Wood

2010-11-26T21:46:00.001-08:00

Taken, Book I: Slave of Desire by Marly Mathews and Raven Willow-Wood is now available in Print at New Concepts Publishing! NCP also has a 20% off sale on all of their print books when ordered directly from their site! Visit their site for details! Buy Slave of Desire in Print!

Intergalactic Justice Book II: Maximum Velocity!

2010-11-19T22:32:00.000-08:00

Intergalactic Justice Book II: Maximum Velocity is now available in print format at New Concepts Publishing!
Join Samantha on her second daring adventure in my futuristic paranormal series!
Dark forces conspire against Samantha Cassidy and her family. With her niece taken by a ruthless Intergalactic Triad, Samantha must ally with a powerful man who was once her enemy and in doing so...she just might lose herself.

The Witch Child

2010-11-10T00:58:00.000-08:00

She was beautiful. She was wicked. She was wanton. And she drove men mad with desire! But to love her was to court death or despair. She was the Witch Child…

The Witch Child is now published in kindle at amazon. It is up at Uk site under Linda Sole/Kindle but it should soon be up at amazon US too.

This is my first published book. It was brought to life by Robert Hale of London and published in hardback in 1980 but the rights were returned to me years ago. I never did anything with it but now I've been rather daring for me and put it into kindle myself. I didn't have a cover for this one but put u a picture of a secret summerhouse, which is quite apt for this book.

It is an experiment. I used thuis book for my first attempt but I have other books that are too long or not right for either Severn House or Mills and Boon and I am thinking about putting these in if The With Child sells a few copies, which I hope it will.

Now read a short episode from the book:

I was but eleven years old when they first named me for a witch. That terrible day is burned so deeply into my memory that even now, years later, there are times when I wake from some nightmarish dream, shaking with fear. Yet it was important, for it brought Justin to me and so sealed my destiny. But perhaps I should start at the beginning . . .
I must have looked a pathetic sight as I stood just inside the door of Granny Fisher’s cottage, soaked to the skin by the driving rain, which persisted as my companion and I walked the last half mile to the cottage in its lonely isolation at the top of the cliffs. A child of eight, slight and small for my age, my green eyes must have been stark with the misery I felt as I stared at the old woman. Meeting her bleak, unsmiling eyes, I shivered, for her lined face showed no trace of warmth or pity.
My heart sank and I clutched at Mr. Jackson’s hand, waiting for her to speak. He glanced down at me with sympathy, then pushed me forward. My heart beat wildly. I was terrified of this silent, old woman and longed for the comfort of my mother’s arms, though I knew I should never feel them about me again. Nor would my father toss me into the air, laughing as I screamed in childish delight. They were both dead and I was alone in the world, except for this woman whom I had never seen before today.
“You say Beth’s dead?” she spoke at last. “And her husband, too?”
“Yes, Mrs. Fisher,” replied my companion. “Your daughter died of the pox. It was her last wish that I should bring the girl to you.”
In the ensuing silence I swallowed nervously, trying to hold back my shameful tears. Granny looked at me suspiciously, her eyes hawklike in the wrinkled face. My instincts told me that she did not want me.
“If she died of the pox—why did the child not take it from her?”
Mr. Jackson shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t rightly know, ma’am—some say ‘tis a miracle.” He shuffled his feet awk-wardly, then handed her a purse. “This is what was left after the debts were paid. ‘Tis not much, there are few folk as will buy goods from a house where the pox has visited.”
She took the purse unwillingly. “Is there no one else to care for her? Times are hard and ‘tis work enough to keep the flesh on these bones of mine, without a growing child to feed.”
He shook his head. “ Nay. I’d have took her meself but my wife’s dead set against it. I’m damned if I know why. She’s a good little thing and she’ll be no bother to you.”
“Ha!—that’s all you know. Children are always a bother whether they mean to be or not. Beth was ever a thoughtless lass. It would not occur to her that I might not want the girl. Not a word from her since she ran off, now she sends me her girl. Well, come here, child, and let me look at you!”
I shook my head, wrapping my arms about Mr. Jackson’s knees. He looked down at me with pity and I think he might have taken me back with him had he not feared his wife’s temper. Mrs. Jackson was a shrew and she had vowed she would have none of me. He wrestled with his conscience briefly, but he lived in fear of her tongue and he dare not return with me in tow. He untangled my clinging limbs and pushed me firmly into the cottage.
Granny grasped me with her clawlike hands, peering into my face for a long time, a strange expression in her eyes. She sighed. “You’re Beth’s girl all right. What was that fool name she gave you ?”
I took a deep breath. “ My name is Jalinda and it is a pretty name. My mother liked it.”
“ Ha! So you can talk after all. Well, come in, lass. I didn’t ask you to come and I dare say as you’d rather be elsewhere—but it seems we’ve neither of us any choice.”
She took my bundle from me and laid it down, then she turned to Mr. Jackson. “Be off with you,” she said. “What arc you waiting for ?”
He was surprised by the suddenness of her attack. He stared at her, then he nodded his head. Abandoning me to my fate, he hurried back down the cliffs the way we had come. I tried not to think harshly of him; it had been a long journey and he had brought me himself. It was more than most would have done.
I stood in the middle of that floor—which was nothing but compounded earth, covered by a layer of filthy rushes— and glanced about me. In one corner was a pile of dried grass, which I was later to discover, served as Granny Fisher’s bed. Apart from a three-legged stool, a coffer, her table and a heavy cooking-pot suspended over the fire I could see only a few bowls and platters.
I recalled the table my father had made, which my mother polished until she could see her face in its gleaming surface. I remembered the stools, the panelled linen-chests, the dresser with its bulbous legs and the special chair, which had a high, carved back. It was in this chair that my father sat of an evening, intent on carving the intricate patterns which were his trademark; and taking the same care whether it was something for a valued customer or a little wooden horse for me. The memory of him brought tears to my eyes and they spilled over in noisy sobs.
Granny Fisher stared at me, a semblance of pity in her eyes. For a moment I thought she would take me in her arms to comfort me, but she had lost the art of loving. Her life had been too hard and she was too old to begin now.
“Now then, lass, dry your eyes. ‘Tis no use in grieving for them as is gone. It won’t bring them back and we must think of ourselves. No doubt you’re hungry; I never yet knew a child who wasn’t.”
At this I stopped crying and looked up expectantly. It seemed a long while since I had eaten and my stomach rumbled emptily.
She gave a crow of triumph, her thin lips parting in a toothless grin. “ That’s it, girl, ‘tis time to look to the future. Take off those wet things and come to the fire whilst I make you something to eat. We’ll manage, you’ll see. It will be hard at first but you’ll learn. Oh, yes, you’ll learn all right!”

* * * *

And learn I did !
I learned what it was to be cold and hungry in the long winter, which followed. I learned to go searching for driftwood on the beach when it was freezing cold and a biting wind blew in from the sea; to come home to the cottage soaked to the skin and to a stewpot containing only a few vegetables— unless we were lucky enough to catch a rabbit. That was seldom enough, for Granny rarely caught anything in her snares—it had been a hard winter for the rabbits, too.
I do not know how I survived that first year. I had been gently reared, and according to the laws of nature I should have sickened and died. Instead, I thrived. I grew thin but it was a tough, wiry leanness.
It was a hard life, so different from the one I had known. Often I would take out the little wooden horse, stroking its smooth surface lovingly. Then I would ache for the sound of my father’s voice, or the touch of my mother’s hands as she tucked me up in my cot at night. If only someone had shown me a little love, but there was no one but Granny, and she had forgotten how.
Sometimes we huddled together in front of the fire, listening to the howling wind. It tore at the cottage walls with a vindictive fury, and the waves lashed at the foot of the cliffs, sending spray high into the air. On certain nights, when the power of the storm was at its height, I sometimes thought I could hear the souls of drowning men, screaming in the darkness.
“The sea be terrible cruel,” Granny said once. “I lost a man and two sons out there on just such a night as this. Aye, she be a wicked mistress, the sea ...”
Looking at her then I began to understand what had made her the way she was. Loneliness and suffering will make granite of the softest heart in time, and I guessed that her life had been lonely. I drew closer to her, realising that she hated the howling wind as much as I. Somehow that knowledge robbed the storm of some of its power to frighten me and I no longer felt quite so alone.

New Release: Slave of Desire!

2010-10-22T16:14:00.001-07:00

New Release: Slave of Desire by Marly Mathews and Raven Willow-Wood

I am excited to announce that Slave of Desire is now available at New Concepts Publishing! Slave of Desire is book one in the Taken Series!

Have A Great Fourth of July

2010-07-04T11:52:00.000-07:00

I hope everyone has a wonderful, fun-filled and safe Fourth of July holiday. Get those hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill and have a great time. And while you're celebrating the freedoms our forefathers gave us, please keep in your hearts and prayers those who serve to mantain them.
Happy 4th of July everyone!
Sarah McNeal

Happy Father's Day

2010-06-20T11:02:00.000-07:00

This is my dad. As you can tell from the picture, it's from way back in the day. He thought he was quite debonair in this photo. Well, at least my mom thought he was. Any way, today is father's day and I wanted to honor him and remember him.

Just being in my dad's presence often made me feel safe and calm. He was the solid base we all leaned on and the wisdom I frequently called upon. He taught me much about life, love and friendship, and how I should act in the world. He was a conservationist and loved all creatures of the Earth. He taught me to respect all God's creatures and to have gratitude for all Earth's treasures.

So on this Father's Day, I remember Pop with fond memories for the times we shared while he was still on the earth. Happy Father's Day, Pop. I will always love you.

And I wish for all of you, whether your father is living or has gone to the other side, to have a thoughtful and happy holiday in celebration and memory of your dad.
Sarah McNeal

Excerpt #2: Alien Deceptions by Regina Paul...

2010-06-11T15:50:00.000-07:00

Angel glanced over the top of her sunglasses. There was that
man again. She spotted him twice since she entered the market.
It appeared he was following her. Is he my contact? She shivered.
If so, she didn't intend to go anywhere with him except to
someplace very public. She'd rather take the risk of being
overheard than be alone with such a man. He was too big for her
tastes. He could almost pass for one of her mother's people,
almost except there was something else there, some other
heritage she could only just barely discern but had no way to
explain. He had dark skin, and dark hair like her mother's
people, but he looked too exotic to be American Indian; he
looked more foreign somehow.

Angel looked back at the glass bowl she held. It reminded her
of the carnival glass from the twenties, blue with rainbow colors
that shot through it when held up to the light. She grimaced as
she realized she could buy it if she wanted to, but with her luck
the visitors would take a liking to it and help themselves. The
thought reminded her of why she came here. Someone had
called her and set up this appointment, a man who claimed to be
an abductee. On the phone he said his name was Tom, but
refused to tell her his surname. He claimed he might have
another piece of the puzzle she had been trying to put together
with her research.

Eyes bored into her back. She felt them burning twin holes
there; it didn't take a rocket scientist to know the man still stood
behind her. Is he Tom, or is he one of the numerous government types
with their trendy, yet nondescript clothes who follow me no matter how
hard I try to conceal my identity? She found them worse than the
visitors and just as tenacious.

Ever since her parents had been abducted and not returned,
the government had taken a keen interest in her life. She did her
research under an alias, but she felt fairly certain the government
types had discovered that long ago. Still as long as they didn't
interfere, she'd let bygones be bygones.

Putting the bowl down Angel stole another look and saw the
man had left. That could only mean one thing, he wasn't her
contact, but one of the government's many peons. Damn! She
didn't need this right now while she tried to do research. Where
the hell is Tom?

I have to get out of here! The market might be public, but I don't
want to put my contact under the gun either. She turned and
promptly ran into the man observing her.

"Excuse me." She mumbled, trying to get around him. God
he's big!

"Are you Angel Whitedove?"

Now she knew how human women must have felt when the
fallen angels appearing as beings of light attempted to lure them
into their beds. The man's voice combined velvet and gravel,
and he hadn't used her alias. Damn! Definitely a government type.

"Nope, sorry afraid you've got the wrong woman." Angel
tried to move around the man again, but then he clamped his
hand hard around her arm.

"You are Angel Whitedove," he said as a statement this time,
not a question.

Now she grew mad. "Listen, buster, unless you want to be
facing a lawsuit for assault, I suggest you let go of me right
now!" Angel whispered furiously. She didn't want to draw
attention to herself, but if she could use the crowd to her
advantage she would. He had exactly five seconds to let go of
her arm, before she started screaming bloody murder.

"You are Angel Whitedove."

What the hell is the matter with this guy? He kept repeating her
name as though it were a crime or something.
She looked up over the top of her shades and something
about his eyes stopped her from screaming. His eyes were the
same color as hers.

"Who are you?" She whispered.

"You are Angel Whitedove."

If he said that one more time, eyes or no eyes she'd scream. "Yes,
but who are you?"

"Darek."

Is that name supposed to mean something to me? His voice
should be declared illegal. It did funny things to her insides;
made them turn inside out or something. "And I suppose that's
supposed to mean something to me?" Sarcasm would get her
somewhere she hoped.

"No, we've never met, but we have a common connection. I
know of your father."

Great, just great. He's one of dad's crazy science fiction fans.
"Look, I don't write like my father did, and I have no
intention of ever becoming a writer. There's enough science
fiction on the market as it is. It's positively glutted, so if you
think to talk me into writing a book about my experiences,
fiction or otherwise, forget it," she told him flatly.

"That isn't why I have come to you, Angel Whitedove. I want
to help you find your parents."

Got to admit that's a new angle. She had to give the guy credit;
none of the other weirdoes ever tried this one before. She came
up with something to get rid of her "fan" really quick.

"My parents are dead." As far as she was concerned the
discussion ended there.

His grip on her arm tightened as though he felt frustrated
with her answers. Frightened that he'd do something even
worse, Angel immediately went almost boneless. She could still
stand, but she loosened her muscles enough to give the weirdo
reason to think she might stay and continue the conversation.

"You're hurting me." She told him quietly. Seconds later his
grip lessened, but he still hadn't said anything yet. Angel began
to look around her to see if anyone close by could help. This one
is definitely ready for the men in the little white coats. She knew just what he
needed, a nice padded cell with heavy-duty restraints
and three squares a day. Oh, and drugs, lots of drugs. She knew
just the place, and if at all possible, she'd do everything she
could to put him there really soon. Somebody has been reading a
little too much science fiction and it certainly isn't me.

Suddenly he completely released her arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to cause you pain."

Now why does he have to go and turn into a gentleman? Just when
I was getting some really good ideas about how I can help him into the
nuthouse.

Angel began to rub her arm absently and backed up a couple
of steps. Got to put some distance between myself and the big guy.
"That's all right," she told him finally, "but really, I don't
think you understand. My parents are dead, and I have no
intention of writing about what happened to us. If you're a
publisher or a reporter, or something like that, I'm really not
interested."

"I am neither a publisher nor a reporter, and I think you are
doing the right thing by not talking to such people. They only
seek to magnify your pain."

"Not to mention the fact I've already experienced stardom,
and believe me, tabloid stardom isn't for the weak hearted. I
have no intention of ever going through that again." Angel told
him, smiling wryly. "So, if you're not a publisher and you're not
a reporter and I assume since you haven't flashed your
government ID at me yet, that you're not a fed, who are you
Darek? What do you do?" We need to get to the point so I can get
away and call Tom. Thank God he gave me a phone number to reach
him in case of an emergency; too bad he didn't give me his description.

"I am a Commander."

Well hell, that doesn't tell me a damn thing, except he's a fed. Fuck!

"So, you're a fed. Well thanks for letting me know that ahead
of time. Mind if I see your ID?"

"I do not have it with me at this time. Is there somewhere we
can talk in private?" Angel watched as Darek looked around as
if searching for somewhere to go.

He doesn't have any ID? No way am I going anywhere with this
guy. Why the hell didn't someone tell me the men in black changed
their favorite color to blue? Angel whirled quickly and took off at a
dead run, never stopping to look behind her until she reached
her car in one of the underground parking lots Portland was
famous for. Only then did she slow down. She had to know if he
was still there, better to know where he was than to have him
following her. Reaching behind her she pulled her shoulder
length hair from its severe twist and reached into her bag for
make-up. I have to do this quickly or else he might have time to follow me.
Hell, he could be following me right now. She glanced in her rearview window to
be sure.

The sunglasses flew the way of the clip which formerly
pulled back her hair, then light foundation and makeup brushed
onto her face. Reaching deeper into the backseat she found a
purple sweater and pulled it over her head. Angel had learned
long ago how to disguise herself and fool a tail. She pulled out of
the parking garage and onto the street where Skidmore Fountain
was. As she drove past, she saw Darek standing in the same
place she had left him. Good! That means he won't be following me.
A small smile lifted her lips that rarely had a reason to smile
anymore. Darek, whoever he was, wouldn't be bothering her
again anytime soon. Angel wasn't sure she believed his story
about being a fed. Most likely he was just another one of her
Dad's science fiction fans playing out a fantasy about saving the
famous author by helping the daughter. Too bad really, she
found the man quite stunning, but she'd made it a policy to
never get involved with the feds.

(c) 2010 by Regina Paul. All Rights Reserved.

Get Your Copy Today!

Excerpt from Alien Deceptions by Regina Paul...

2010-06-09T14:15:00.000-07:00

They were back! What did they want this time? She felt paralyzed as
ice water crept through her veins. Her muscles refused to
cooperate. She wanted to run, to hide, anything but this awful
feeling of being unable to move. No! No! Not again! I don't want to
go with you! As usual her wants weren't taken into account, and
the familiar process began to take place.
The blinding white light, common to these experiences,
spilled into the room from one window on the west wall. The
foot of her bed faced the opposing wall in an attempt to deter
her tormentors, in the hopes that she could deter them.
Wolf howled in the back yard, and his chain rattled in an
attempt to get to her. There would be no protection this night.
They found her again. No matter how many times she moved,
they found her. The recent move to Portland, Oregon was no
exception. For a year she felt safe. Now it didn't matter; it was all
starting again.

Her body felt light and she levitated off the bed. The blood
stilled in her veins, her body growing stiffer. The sensation of
fight or flight took over, but she had no energy to follow through
with it.

A small scraping sound to her left, she turned her eyes, the
only thing she could move in that direction. The window opened
by itself. A blue beam with her torturers, tiny, hairless gray
beings with large black eyes flowed into the room. She shut her
eyes; she didn't want to see them. They removed her blankets,
and their hands guided her body.

Their grainy, leathery hands felt so cold she shivered involuntarily.
She hated it when they touched her. Caught in the
blue beam she looked up to see something she had hoped never
to see again. Her body floated out the open window and then
up, up, up toward the waiting craft.

Her back brushed the top of the cedar tree in her back yard.
She knew which tree because she could smell its calming scent.
Far below her, Wolf had ceased his howling, but she could still
hear his whimpers as though from far away. Tears that wouldn't
fall grew in the corners of her eyes. I should never have tied Wolf up
in the backyard. If she had kept him with her maybe she wouldn't
be about to suffer this again.

Unable to resist she opened her eyes just in time to see the
bottom of the craft open up before she floated inside. Terror
moved through her, making her previous fear seem as nothing.
What are they going to do this time? What tests will they perform?
Will they return me to my home, or will I disappear from Earth never
to be seen again? The not knowing what to expect was the worst.

The only thing certain with these experiences was it would be
extremely painful both psychologically and physically.
Everything else about the experiences depended on the
tormentors.

She opened her eyes and looked around. I must've blacked out
again. She wiggled her fingers and attempted to pick up her
hands, but found she couldn't. They had put her wrists in
restraints. She tried to lift one of her legs and found her ankles
restrained as well.

They removed my clothes again! It was one of the worst things
about the experiences. She had nothing, nothing. No way to
protect herself. No way to run. No way to escape. It always felt
the same, trapped like a rat in a maze with nowhere to hide.
Huge black tilted eyes that almost encompassed the entire
width of an overly large gray skull peered down at her. She
found she couldn't look away.

"Don't be afraid. We will not hurt you." An almost mechanical
voice touched her mind.

"Leave me alone! Let me go!"

"You are special. You are one of our chosen ones. Only you and
others like you can help save your planet," the voice continued as
though she wasn't trying to resist.

In some dim corner of Angel's mind she knew she had been
told this before. In fact they used telepathy as their main
communication at the beginning of an experience. They tried to
distract her from what they did. She remembered this from the
other times. They'd speak to her in her mind, telling her how
special she was and how what they were doing to her would
help them save her world. It was all lies. She knew what they
were doing, and she knew it was wrong.

She felt their leathery hands on her stomach. She tried to look
down, but the alien's black eyes wouldn't let her. A sharp
agonizing pain in her stomach below her navel told her they
performed a familiar procedure. They performed their
pregnancy test by inserting a large needle about a quarter inch
around into her ovaries to extract eggs. Why they called it a
pregnancy test, she had never been able to figure out.
Some small part of her mind grasped weakly at the idea;
there was something here she wasn't remembering, something
important.

"You are feeling no pain, no pain." The alien's telepathic words
interrupted her thought processes.

"No pain, my ass!"

For some reason, her tormentors thought if they told her
there'd be no pain, it'd somehow miraculously disappear. What a
crock! She always felt the pain of their procedures.

The agony escalated to enormous proportions and Angel's
mind, in an effort to escape, blacked out. At least she always felt
this is what happened. She could never be sure if the pain or the
being, who kept her distracted, put the suggestion into her mind.

* * * *

When Angel Whitedove opened her eyes, it was starting
again. Her stomach hurt badly. She pulled her legs up and held
herself in a fetal position. They had returned. She groaned softly
and realized she couldn't run this time. She had nowhere to go.
They always found her in the end. It might take them a year or
so, but they always found her. Now that they had, she knew the
sleepless nights, the nightmares, and the silent horror would
start all over again.

Her mouth felt like the inside of an old shoe and tasted like one too. A wild
shiver moved through her. She looked down
and saw that she was naked. They hadn't bothered to redress her
this time. Carefully she sat up and examined her stomach. She
saw a small, red puncture wound just below her navel. It hadn't
just been a bad dream then. They had really found her again.
Damn!

Angel reached up to brush long strands of dark hair away
from her face, and her hand came away with small sprigs of
cedar. She pulled the cedar from her hair and rose from the bed.
She looked around for her robe but couldn't find it. Her
tormentors must have decided to keep it for a souvenir. Taking a
deep breath to clear the cobwebs from her mind, she crossed to
her dresser and pulled a clean t-shirt and underwear out and put
them on. She knew from experience she needed to get out her
Polaroid camera and take a picture of the small puncture wound
on her stomach because it'd disappear by early afternoon.
Angel despondently wandered into the kitchen for a plastic
bag to put the cedar twigs in. She knew they weren't really proof
but like the puncture wound they were the only tangible
evidence that the visitors had found her yet again.
She felt like crying. What good would that do? As a child
when she had first begun to remember the horrible experiences
she'd cry for days after being taken, her father really the only
person able to console her. But her father was no longer with
her. She had no one to hold her and tell her everything would be
ok. Angel made sure of it. She allowed none close to her so no
one could be touched by the visitors as she had been. She didn't
want the responsibility.

The Polaroid camera positioned, her shirt lifted and the
panties lowered she took several pictures of the puncture mark
on her stomach. The journal lay open to a new page with the
date written at the top, and the bag of cedar taped to it. There
was room for at least one of the Polaroid pictures beneath it. The
other two pictures along with a few of the sprigs of cedar would
be placed in a safety deposit box at her bank along with a second
copy of the journal. She'd deposit the pages with the experience
along with them later in the day. She had learned one thing in
investigating this phenomenon, the visitors weren't above
stealing evidence. She always made sure she had two sets; one locked away safely
where they hopefully couldn't get to it.

Fortunately, they hadn't tampered with her coffee maker and
the required two hot cups waited for her just as she had set the
timer to do. Standing at the counter she looked out the window
at what promised to be another sunny but cool day. Spring in
Oregon could be incredibly fickle, boasting sunshine in the
morning and black roiling clouds filled with rain by afternoon.
Angel didn't mind though, she loved Oregon. She found it
worth all the rain to have the beautiful green everywhere. She
found the trees, the flowers, and the grass all so colorful this
time of year. I should never have left.

Angel stood on tiptoe to reach up and grab a mug out of the
cupboard above and to the left of her sink. She poured herself a
mug of caffeine fortification and added cream and sugar before
she turned and walked to the table to record the events of last
evening in what she privately called her "tormentor journal."
She needed to get it all down while it remained fresh in her
mind, at least what she could readily recall. Later she'd
transcribe her notes into her computer and take the printed
pages to be added to her typed version of the journal ensconced
in her safety deposit box at her local U.S. Bank. She could never
be too sure with the visitors.

Get your copy today!

(c) 2010 by Regina Paul. All Rights Reserved.

Alien Deceptions by Regina Paul...

2010-06-01T16:03:00.000-07:00

She's BBBAAACCKKKK! Yes, I know I've been rather absent from the blog lately. What with getting through the latest edits on Alien Deceptions my newest release which will be out on June 7th from Eternal Press and then doing editing for 2 other publishers and working the occasional temp assignment, Regina has been one busy woman! LOL

As I was saying I have a new release coming out in just a few days that I'm very excited about. This is the first book in my otherworlds series titled Alien Deceptions. Here's the blurb and do check out the cover art below!

Blurb:

Terror stalks Angel's nights as she waits to be abducted again. During the day she researches, and interviews other alien abductees. Into her waking nightmare steps a gorgeous stranger. Does he have the answers she's looking for? The answer is beyond her wildest imaginings, and could be either her salvation and a chance at true love, or her death.

I'm going to be promoting like crazy for the next month or so and so please be sure and check out my website for current chat dates.

Call For Submissions....

2010-06-01T15:58:00.000-07:00

Leap of Faith Publishing, LLC is now open to submissions of all genres and sub-genres of romance and erotic romance.

All submissions must be new material in order to be considered for publication. After you have published one book with Leap of Faith Publishing, LLC we will consider publishing books that have been previously published elsewhere. Also, at this time we are not accepting simultaneous submissions.

We love new stories that don’t fit the mold, so please feel free to submit manuscripts where your muse has gone wild! You just never know what the next hot new romance or erotic romance sub-genre is going to be, so surprise us with your most creative efforts.

We will consider manuscripts starting at 1000k , but ideally we are looking for manuscripts that are at least 20000k for publication. However, bottom line, if it’s a fantastic story we’ll consider it regardless of length.

Please no submissions that have rape for purposes of titillation, child exploitation, golden showers, necrophilia (vamps are the exception), bestiality (shapeshifters and animal-like aliens are the exception), or pornography.

Please visit our Submissions page for more information.

We hope you will consider joining us! Leap of Faith Publishing, LLC is an author-friendly publisher who believes that there can never be too many good books in the world.

Thank you!
Patricia Richardson, CEO
Leap of Faith Publishing, LLC

RT nomination for 'A Knight's Captive'

2010-04-27T04:00:00.000-07:00

I'm delighted to say that A Knight's Captive was chosen among the select band of nominees for the Best Historical Novel category in the Romantic Times 2009 Reviewers' Choice Awards this month. I'm tickled pink to have been shortlisted, and congratulations to Tessa Dare, who won.

The list of all the nominees and winners is here.

Lindsay

New Books From Linda Sole

2010-04-05T00:33:00.001-07:00

I haven't been able to get into the blog for ages, but now Regina has made it possible again so here I am. There are a lot of new books to catch up with. Red Rose Publishing brought out Dangerous To Know, Ryan's son, Daddy Loves Belinda and a Regency - An Impetuous Miss, Anne Ireland, all of them a long time in the editing but now out at RRp.

As Anne Herries I have the Melford series coming out this year in England - Forbidden Lady and The Lord's Forced Bride, two that have already been out in USA. In america I have another Ottoman Empire book, the title Bought For the Harem. Like Captive of the Harem the title is lurid and fun but the book is a romance as always. Captive of the Harem was and is my best selling book for Mills & Boon. It has sold all over the world despite an awful review on amazon. I have hopes the new one will do the same. I also have lots of other new books in the pipeline with M&B.

As Linda Sole I've had the Family Feud trilogy out over the past eighteen months and I now have another book coming in May called All My Sins. This is written in the first person and I think it's my best saga since Lovers & Sinners, which sold in big numbers for Century and Arrow.

I hope to get back sooner this time with an excerpt next time.

Best wishes, Linda

DABWAHA 2010

2010-03-19T05:55:00.000-07:00

Having been away for a while, I only discovered this morning that Blue Gold was chosen to participate in DABWAHA 2010, run by Dear Author and Smart Bitches, Trashy Books.

Whatever happens, I'm delighted to be nominated in some very strong company. If you want to take part in the voting, here's the link.

Happy St Patrick's Day

2010-03-17T08:39:00.000-07:00

Happy Saint Patrick's Day to all my Irish brothers and sisters (and those who are Irish in their hearts)

Slan's beannachd! (Health and a blessing)

Sarah McNeal

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY

2010-02-14T12:09:00.001-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day

Go out and share the love with family, friends, that special someone and your pets. Have a wonderful time and enjoy the love you have with gratitude.

Sending out love vibes to your corner of the universe.

Sarah McNeal

http://www.sarahmcneal.com

Announcement And Invitation

2010-01-10T10:49:00.000-08:00

BITTER NOTES soon to be released by Amira Press.

Cover art by Anastasia Rabiyah.

On Monday evening, January 11, 2010, I'll be celebrating my new job as one of the hostesses at THE ROMANCE ROOM and the soon to be released BITTER NOTES. I will not just be yakking it up while I'm there; but also having contests (simple ones I promise) and giving away some cool stuff like piano shaped pencil erasers, magnetic calendars, a music box shaped like a baby grand piano and a download of my previous release, THE VIOLIN. I hope you'll come and join me for the fun.

All good things to your corner of the universe.

Sarah McNeal

http://www.sarahmcneal.com

Just got the cover for 'A Knight's Enchantment'

2009-11-28T02:18:00.000-08:00

I've just this morning received the cover for my next Zebra medieval, A Knight's Enchantment, and I like it already!
Here it is, and the blurb is here.

Other bits of news: another romantic suspense shortie, Holiday in Bologna, comes out from Bookstrand as an ebook early next year and A Secret Treasure is getting the talking book treatment from AudioLark in the spring.

Lindsay

The Paranormal in my fiction

2009-10-17T05:29:00.000-07:00

Paranormal elements creep into almost all of my fiction. Why? Because eerie, hair standing up on the back of the neck moments do happen in life, Also because I place my characters into strange situations and unusual settings, where their senses are heightened to an almost supernatural state.
In real life, people can experience extraordinary things. A woman I know of was passing a man on a staircase and a thought entered her mind: this is the man you are going to marry. She dismissed the idea as absurd - but it happened and they are still married. In life, people under stress can do extraordinary, almost superhuman things. The woman after a car crash lifting an engine block to free her trapped child beneath. We can all experience feelings of disquiet, of something being 'off'. We can all have dreams which can stalk us.
This is very much the stuff of fiction. Romance especially lends itself to the paranormal and supernatural. When we are in love we feel to be in a transfigured state: all senses and emotions are heightened. In addition, I write romantic suspense, where my characters are in danger and those warning senses we have are on high alert. I also write romance set in the past, at times in the far distant past, where beliefs in spirits, strange creatures, omens and gods were part of everyday life.
In modern life we tend to separate religion and state. In the past belief in supernatural forces, particularly malign supernatural forces, was far stronger. How else could people in the ancient world make sense of what happened to them and around them? When the causes of illness were not understood it would seem logical that an outside influence - an angry god or an evil spirit - had targeted that person or that animal.
Belief is a powerful force. If a character believes he or she can do something out of the ordinary, then sometimes they can. In my historical fiction I use the beliefs of my characters to allow them to tap into something larger than themselves. This 'something' can be a thing of delight or of terror. It is the wonder of the story-teller, used in tales before humans devised writing. And when we did begin to write, ghost stories, paranormal stories 'spooky' stories, were among the earliest tales we committed to clay, papyrus or parchment.
Here are a few paranormal moments from my novels. The first is based on an ancient Roman ghost story of a haunted house, which I adapted to use in 'Flavia's Secret'. In this excerpt, the paranormal is used to show wonder and delight in a special, secret place; a place where Flavia finds the strength to tell Marcus her own deadly secret.

EXCERPT:

Walking quickly, to show that she did not regret her decision to share this place with him, Flavia returned along the twisting beaten-earth path between the rampant rosemary and lavender bushes. One more twist of the path and they reached the heart of the garden and its startling secret—a private outdoor pool, its shimmering waters steaming in the sun.
‘By Mithras, what a place.’ Looking around, Marcus halted beside her, dropping onto his knees to test the waters of the deep, lead-lined pool. ‘It’s hot!’ he exclaimed, shaking moisture from his hand.
Flavia pointed to a large lead pipe leading away from the pool in the direction of the deserted house before it was lost in the luxuriant undergrowth.
‘We think the owner fixed a conduit somewhere off the spring waters of the Aesculapius spring and directed some of the thermal water here,’ she explained. ‘The pool drains somewhere, too, but we do not know where.’
Marcus sat back on his heels. ‘We?’
‘Those of us who come here, when we can.’
‘Your own private bathing place.’ Marcus jumped to his feet again and walked around the marbled perimeter of the pool. ‘I am surprised nobody has tried to make money with it.’
‘We are careful who we tell,’ Flavia said, squashing disappointment at Marcus’ mercenary approach, but he was staring across the sun-gilded water at the leaf-strewn timber portico leading to the deserted house.
‘I am not surprised at that,’ he said quietly. ‘It is beautiful.’
He watched a small breeze tumble a bronze oak leaf along a small marble walkway leading from the semi-derelict portico to the edge of the pool. ‘Mysterious, quite eerie, but also...comforting. As if you are in an entirely different world.’ He turned about, pointing to the sparkling spiders’ webs on the lavender bushes, rimed with heavy dew. ‘Somewhere forgotten by the rest of the city. A place where magical things become possible.’
‘You understand,’ Flavia whispered, breathing out in relief.
He smiled. ‘It is more than likely that the old owner saw an easy chance to grab some free hot water, but what he has made here, what time has made...I am not surprised he was thought to be a sorcerer.’
Marcus held out both hands to her. ‘Thank you for sharing this, and be assured—your secret with be safe in my keeping.’
Flavia walked to the edge of the secret pool and joined him in studying the waters.

In 'Bronze Lighting,' set in Bronze Age Europe, many characters believe in and practice magic. Here Fearn and Sarmatia, hero and heroine, are taking part in a sky ritual, a dangerous rite that they believe may unmask a murderer.

EXCERPT:

By this time it was early evening. A pall of dark clouds had gathered over the Sacred Hill. The sun hung over the eastern hills like a bloodstained shield. Fearn looked up at the sky.
'The God will come here when I summon him and we must be ready. Each of you strip off your gold, your silver and bronze. The Sky God does not like the gleam of metal on others.'
He lifted the bronze diadem from his head and laid it on the grass. 'Pile your ornaments here together. Give it to the earth for safekeeping. Quickly!'
At his command, Atterians broke their circle and came to heap their metal broaches, swords, arrows, arm-rings and finger-rings upon the King's diadem. Sarmatia watched Laerimmer take off his golden throat disc and glanced down at her own bronze ring, reluctant to remove it. Looking up, she saw Fearn walking towards her.
'Must I take off my ring?' she asked in Kretan as he reached her. Fearn answered in the same tongue.
'I fear so, Sarmatia.' He looked at her. Men were still gathered about the growing heap of metal. He and Sarmatia had a moment together.
'What is this ritual?'
'Nothing you need fear, Sarmatia. The Sky God knows our hearts. He does not touch those who are innocent. Twice now as King I've been asked to do this rite. The God may take some of our metal as sacrifice and payment, but that's a small thing for the truth.'
Sarmatia took off her bronze ring and gave it to Fearn. 'You must put this with the rest, Fearn. I can't.’ Then, although she already sensed the answer, she asked, 'Is the Sky God the same whose shrine is the Great Stone Circle?'
'It's the same God. And this is the rite the southern kingdoms have forgotten.' He turned and left her.

There are gods in my novels, too. In 'Blue Gold' the gods of ancient Egypt watch mankind from the sun-boat that crosses the sky each day and they sometimes interfere more directly.

EXCERPT:

“What happens now?” asked Astarte-with-the-moon-in-her-hair.
The eastern goddess of love was paying another visit to the sun boat of Ra. She thought the climate good for her complexion.
The blue god Amun, casting an admiring glance at the silver-haired goddess’s shapely long legs, mumbled something about a race. He ran his hands through a thick fleece of cloud, parting it with his fingers. “Look below us. There is my Pharaoh, a true Egyptian.”
“Ah yes. Sekenenre. The king who toils like an ant. He certainly looks to be making haste.”
Astarte leaned forward, the corners of her eyes crinkling at the sight of Sekenenre and his retinue of priests running their chariots again and again at the same high dune instead of doing the sensible thing of going round it. At her high vantage point, the fifteen chariots moving with such fanatical haste from the small water course where they had hidden their ship looked bizarre, like weevils.
No one on the sun boat reproved or remarked on the goddess’s comments. Those long, shapely legs were even better when she bent over the gunwale. From the middle of the boat came a muffled exclamation as the soul of the long dead Pharaoh Unas dropped the sun god’s fan.
“Fool of a mortal,” said old Ra sharply, squirming on his throne, crossing hands over thighs.
Astarte looked round over one shoulder and smiled, but she reserved her warmest look for Amun. “He is a long way from Thebes, your Sek-en-enre. Did you send a dream to instruct him? Does this true Egyptian know where he is going?”
“Pay no attention to anything Amun says. Sekenenre’s dash into the desert is due entirely to me.” Set materialized at her elbow. He directed Astarte to look over the other side of the boat. “Here’s my man.”
Aweserre’s chariot scuttled jauntily along below them.

In ‘Blue Gold’ when these two pharaohs meet, it is a clash of arms, force and beliefs and it leads to the unleashing of more paranormal forces.

Happy Halloween!

Lindsay

Chatting at Coffee Time Romance Erotic E-loop...

2009-09-26T17:00:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to post here that I will be at the Coffee Time Romance Erotic E-loop for the next hour chatting about my books, and maybe giving away a goodie or too! So, if you have a moment to pop on over and chat, come on down! This chat lasts from 7:00 pm to 9:00 pm EST. You can participate here!

Dangerous to Know and Daddy Loves Belinda

2009-09-20T05:06:00.000-07:00

The cover is Dangerous to Know/Anne Ireland/Red Rose Publishing

Coming 8th October.

An excerpt from Daddy Loves Belinda/Anne Ireland/Red Rose Publishing

Coming soon

She was covered in blood when they found her. It had matted into her fair curls, was smeared over her face, hands and legs, and had soaked into her pretty, white dress. Around her mouth, the blood had created a garish, clown-like effect that sent shivers down his spine.
She looked like a little vampire, Sergeant Harry Thorpe thought, as though she had rolled in her mother's blood and drunk from the open wounds. Good grief! What was he thinking? Revulsion swept over him as he realized that his mind was playing the worst kind of trick on him. She was a child – two or three at most: an innocent victim of the madman who had viciously stabbed Janice Creek to death.
It was a wonder they had found the child so quickly. Situated at the edge of Sir Melvin Gutteridge's estate, the cottage was isolated. Janice Creek and her daughter Belinda lived there alone, rarely walking the five miles to the village shop in Whitney. If it had not been for the anonymous phone call, the child might have been trapped with her mother's corpse for days. As it was, the body was hardly cold.
'Poor little mite!' Policewoman Sarah Maddison swept the child up in her arms, carrying her outside to the woman from Social Services, who was waiting to take her to safety.
As they passed Harry, the child smiled: an innocent, sweet, beguiling smile.
’Daddy loves Belinda,’ she said and for a moment, her eyes looked straight into his, sending a trickle of ice down his spine.
Harry Thorpe put a hand to his face, his mind reeling from the horror of too many deaths, too many murders. If he kept on this way, he would be heading for a breakdown. For a moment he'd thought he was looking into the eyes of a killer, but that was madness.

Dangerous To Know& Daddy Loves Belinda

2009-09-13T01:00:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone! I have two books coming from Red Rose Publishing very soon now. This is an Anne Ireland book.

Daddy Love Belinda is a romance/suspense written in the first person and Dangerous to Know is a third person mystery /romance with an American hero.

A small excerpt from Dangerous To Know is here for you and the cover for Daddy Loves Belinda.
Enjoy!

"My sister has been missing for more than three weeks now. I think someone must have killed her. What I want to know is what you intend to do about it?"
The girl wasn’t particularly tall, but what she lacked in inches, she made up for in spirit. Eyes that were normally a soft grey flashed fire, as she pushed her long, straight hair back from her forehead.
"I’m sorry, ma’am. Her husband reported this just over a week ago. We have her listed as missing. I don’t have much hope of finding her. People go off on their own for a variety of reasons, and I very much doubt that she has been murdered." The American police officer gave the young English girl a harassed look. "If a body turns up we’ll let you know."
"It will be a bit late by then, don’t you think?" Karin Blake snapped. "I’m asking you what you are doing to find my sister, now, before that happens."
"We’ve posted missing person pictures," the officer glared at her. Do you have any idea how many people go missing in New York every year?
"I’m only interested in finding my sister."
"We’re doing all we can, miss."
Karin stared indignantly as the police captain walked off and left her. She wanted to yell at him that he was a fool and tell him he didn’t deserve to be a police officer, but she knew it would be like water off a duck’s back. He just wasn’t interested in her or Angela.
So now what could she do? She had to try something else, because she wasn’t prepared to give up on her twin. She turned to leave the crowded office, threading her way through a tide of incoming criminals, including drug addicts, petty thieves and the police officers accompanying them in the hall.
"Miss Blake." A young dark-haired officer laid his hand on her arm. "Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?"
"Yes, if you wish." Karin looked at him. At least he seemed friendly, unlike his captain who had appeared to think she was nothing but a nuisance. "Do you know anything about my sister?"
He shook his head, disappointing her. "I heard you got the run around, but the department just doesn’t have the time to give priority to something like a missing woman."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Karin asked. "Angela is my sister and I care about her. I need to find her, Mr…?"
"Helman," he said. "Look, it’s just a suggestion and off the record but why don’t you hire a private detective to look for your sister?"
"Yes, I suppose I could do that," Karin said, suddenly seeing a way out of her frustration. "How would I go about finding a good one, Mr Helman? I don’t live in New York. In fact my plane leaves late this evening – so I don’t have a lot of time to waste looking."
"I know someone who might take your case," he replied. "The thing about Mike Wendell is that he’s honest. He won’t take your money and cheat you – and he used to be one of the best officers we had in the NYPD. He had a bad accident during a car chase and they pensioned him off, but he’s perfectly fit now – against all the odds."
"He sounds exactly the man for me," Karin said, smiling at him. "Thank you for your advice, Mr Helman. Now tell me, where I can find this Mike Wendell?"

'Silk and Steel': a new ancient world romance out today

2009-08-20T02:23:00.000-07:00

My erotic historical romance SILK AND STEEL is released today by Siren-Bookstrand. SILK AND STEEL makes my third novel set in the exotic, sensual world of ancient Rome, along with my erotic historical romance, ESCAPE TO LOVE and my sensual historical romance, FLAVIA'S SECRET, also published by Siren-Bookstrand.

To see all three of these exciting novels, please visit my SirenBookstrand author page:
http://www.bookstrand.com/authors/lindsaytownsend/

Best wishes, Lindsay
http://lindsaysbookchat.blogspot.com

Mating Season Anthology a Reviewer's Pick!

2009-08-07T18:49:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm very happy to report that Mating Season and my novella No Place to Run are a Reviewer's Pick at Night Owl Reviews! Woo hoo! That is just like the best news an author can get, as I'm sure you know. :-)

So, if you have a minute, check out the review and don't forget to pick up your copy of Mating Season from Amira Press! Here's that link: Night Owl Romance Review for Mating Season

TwoLips Reviews Scavenger Hunt

2009-08-03T12:28:00.000-07:00

Hey, you guys, TwoLips Reviews is having a Scavenger Hunt!
The TWOLIPS SCAVENGER HUNT is on and I am a participant. Look for their icon on my website.
If you need to know the rules and what you can win, here's how: www.twolipsreviews. com click on scavenger hunt and you will find the rules! come play with us! and win win win! over 100 prizes to be won come on and play!
So start playing already!
Sarah McNeal
www.sarahmcneal.com

Check out Patricia Richardson on Squidoo...

2009-06-26T19:47:00.001-07:00

Patricia has been very busy recently. With new rules going up at Squidoo regarding adult rated content she had scramble to get her lenses up to snuff so they didn't get taken down. If you haven't checked out her books yet, you want to, I've read them all and they are fantastic! Here are the links:

A Place for Ida

A Time for Jonathan

Deeply Hidden Desires

Be sure and rate her lenses while you're there! :-)

Chatting at Love Romances Cafe....

2009-06-26T19:43:00.000-07:00

I'll be chatting all day with my fellow Eternal Press authors at Love Romances Cafe yahoo group on Sunday June 28, 2009. I'll be posting excerpts and blurbs and other fun stuff so if you're bored on Sunday or just like chatting about books with authors come and join us! Here's the link, Love Romances Cafe

Recent review roundup - and an interview

2009-06-17T05:15:00.000-07:00

Allowing myself a brief toot or two on my own trumpet:

A couple of encouraging reviews came in recently for A Knight's Captive - one from Single Titles (who also did an interview with me) and one from Manic Readers.

I've also just had a B for Blue Gold from Dear Author, so that's another toot.

That's it for now.

Lindsay

Dark Ancient Queen

2009-06-11T08:44:00.000-07:00

Hi. it is an age since I managed to get here. We have had a sad time and I've not felt like posting. I am just popping in to tell you that Amira Press will publish Dark Ancient Queen on Friday 19th.

www.amirapress.com

Excerpt from Deeply Hidden Desires by Patricia Richardson...

2009-05-21T02:46:00.001-07:00

It was an unseasonably humid spring day in downtown Baltimore. Tara stopped to watch the ducks float around in their dirty pond water as she entered the campus of North Charles Hospital. She wore a black long-sleeved tailored suit that fit snugly around the curves of her shapely body. The skirt stopped just above her knees. She also wore black stockings and black two-inch pumps that accented her plump well-formed legs. Tara stood just a few inches above five feet at 120 lbs. Her skin, usually the color of cocoa, now had a bronze shimmer due to the summer sun. But her most prominent feature, which men especially appreciated, was her thick, full, rose-colored lips.

Obviously she was going to regret wearing black on such a hot day, but what choice did a sista have? None! It was the only corporate outfit that she owned, and she wasn’t about to charge anything on her almost maxed-out charge cards.

She arrived with a few minutes to spare for her appointment with Dr. Conrad. She was a registered nurse at last! Her body were still jittery from all the studying and preparation for her boards; now the interview, the very thought of it, seemed to add new butterflies to the pit of her already tense stomach.

She took deep breaths, trying to relax and get her mind geared to ace her interview. She really needed this job since she had tons of bills to pay. Credit cards, student loans, you name it, she owed it. “Soon the creditors will be knocking at my door.” She had been letting the answering machine pick up her calls, she had run out of excuses. Frankly her creditors didn’t want to hear any more excuses. Green, the almighty dollar, is what they wanted at this point.
She forced those thoughts out of her head; they were just something else to add to her nervousness. She allowed her mind to drift freely, that’s what she needed, freedom to make choices. She was tired of the pressures of life, and tired of being tired of her man.

Out of all the wonderful, colorful, uplifting thoughts that could have entered her mind, what she continued to ponder was the ducks. “How can they survive in such filthy water?” But before she could satisfy herself with a logical explanation, a beautiful black Mercedes Benz
cruised up to where she was standing, and practically came to a standstill. The driver eye-balled her from head to toe approvingly, his smile was warm and lustful. His skin tone was as black as a starless night and as smooth as a newborn baby’s behind. Pearly white teeth sparkled in the bright sunlight; his bald head gleamed. He was the spitting image of how she liked her man to look. Even though he was sitting behind the wheel, she was able to get a sense of his height. That long, lean muscular frame had to be at least 6 feet tall.

She returned the smile, slowly and flirtatiously. “Watch yourself!” She heard a warning bell go off in her head. She still had Kendrick in her life, even though he was the opposite of what she wanted her man to look like. He did have the height and sparkling brown eyes, but not the ultra-bright gleam of teeth against a dark chocolate complexion. He had a deep throaty, Isaac Hayes voice, maybe even sexier than Isaac’s. Kendrick’s voice was enough to make a girl climax until you became used to it, and used to it she was. She did love him, but he wasn’t meeting her needs - mentally or sexually – anymore. Kendrick used to do the type of things in bed that would turn a sista out, but lately sex and everything else had
been routine, hardly anything to anticipate. Tara couldn’t help but reminisce from time to time about their explicit encounters in the most erotic places. How she longed to have him back that way again! Sometimes she wondered whether it was the memory of how he used to be that still had her in love.

Mating Season Makes the Top Ten at Amira Press!

2009-05-21T02:38:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm more jazzed than I can say. When I looked at one of my publisher's websites, I discovered that Mating Season, the anthology that has my story No Place to Run in it has made #7 on Amira's main top ten list and #2 on Amira's paranormal list. I'm pretty sure this book is going to sell enough to go to print, so it's very encouraging to see that it has made these lists.

If you haven't had a chance to check out Mating Season, then now is the time! It has some very lovely stories that are geared towards just about every taste I think. There is one contemporary Native American story (mine of course) and then one interracial by Dahlia Rose, and two paranormal romances, one by Brenda Steele and another by Dorian Wallace.

Here are the blurbs for each story, enjoy! There's a link at the bottom of the post:

No Place to Run - Regina Paul Lin Chen carries a strong bloodline from the Bunun tribe. On the run from an abusive ex-husband, she has left her native Taiwan hoping to draw her ex away from her family. Driving through North Dakota, she encounters a winter blizzard which forces her to stop on the Standing Rock Reservation. There she meets Kyle Little Eagle, a medicine man. While, it isn’t long before they are close, her ex is not far behind. Can Lin overcome her fear of men and let Kyle help her? Can love and a mutual connection to the spirit world prevent her worst fears from being realized?

Flights of Fancy - Dahlia Rose (Interracial) Spring not only brought flowers and sunshine. But it got Tate Hildebrandt outside on a ladder to paint his sexy landlady's building. He fell off the very same ladder after hearing a sexy conversation with him as the star. He looked up to see the woman of his naughty dreams, Fancy McKee. Fancy owned and ran Fantasy Cakes an erotic bakery that was the only one of its kind in Merry, North Carolina. From the time Tate met this gorgeous woman he had the urge to sample her lips like one of the cakes she made. When she decided to take care of him after his fall, he saw it as the perfect opportunity to finally make his move. But with Fancy there is more than meets the eye. Can the new love they found survive the stigma of a small town mentality?

Midnight Shift - Brenda Steele Lori lives in an alternate world of humans and shifters. The two barely get along, and recent laws made to track the shifters' movements have not helped relations at all. Lori, a human, with no ambition other than to work at a bookstore that serves nocturnal shifters meets arrogant tiger shifter, Chase who is a college professor. Under normal circumstances, Chase would not look twice at a human, but the fact that he is days from entering his mating season is playing havoc with his senses. Now, not only can't he hide his claws and his furry ears in public, he cannot stop hunting Lori. Despite political unrest in their city, Chase will make Lori his lover.

A Hare's Breadth - Dorian Wallace As part of a shape shifting family and having a witch as her best friend, Robin’s life is by no means normal. Things are about to take an exciting yet dangerous twist when a band of Italian gypsies make their way into her life and her heart. Will the man that saved her from being killed bring Robin more peril and heartache than he intends, tearing them apart or cementing them together forever?

4.5 Red Roses for 'Bronze Lightning'

2009-05-12T05:03:00.000-07:00

I'm thrilled with this 4.5 Red Roses review for my historical romance, BRONZE LIGHTNING! Here's what Linda Sole says: (Thank you, Linda!)

"Bronze Lightning by Lindsay Townsend
Siren-BookStrand
March 2009
ISBN: 1-60601-273-8
Pages: 356
Krete, c 1562 BC
Isle of Stones – Kingdom of the Atterians, 1561 BC

Sarmatia is the Bull Rider in the sacred rites. It is her place to help the children go through the rite so that they may become adults. She has always been content with her life but that is about to change with a chance meeting, a meeting that will end up transforming her view of life.

Fearn has always been a healer. It is his ability to heal that has made his name know far and wide. He has come to Krete to heal the king. Traveling to Krete has given Fearn the chance to meet Sarmatia, which has changed his life.

Fearn has found the one woman that he wants to spend his life with. Before he can do that he needs to make sure his people have a healer when he is gone. He goes home with the promise to Sarmatia that he will return for her and that they will be together. Once home he finds opposition to his leaving his family and the people. As he is about to leave having trained a new healer the unthinkable happens and the king dies. Now being part of the royal family Fearn must be tested along with others to see who will be the new king. Wanting no part of ruling the people Fearn nonetheless takes the test to show his good will. The one thing Fearn never saw coming was inheriting the crown. Now the only chance he has at happiness is if Sarmatia is willing to come to him on a several months long journey and giving up the life she has always known.

How strong is Sarmatia? She is about to find out just what she is capable of. She is about to start on a journey that will test her in its own way. One that if she is not careful she just might not survive. Sarmatia is going to find out just how much she loves Fearn as she is tested time and again.

Thinking that once she is reunited with Fearn that all will be well. Now they are going to be able to start their lives together she finds that she is very much mistaken. Some one is trying to hurt them and if they don’t find out who is behind the attacks they just might not be able to have a life together after all. Someone wants what they have and will stop at nothing until they get what they want. There are several people with a motive but which one is conniving enough to get away with the stealthy attacks without being seen. They will have to survive long enough to find the person or persons so that they will finally have the happiness they have tried so hard to enjoy.

This is a remarkable book in that it takes you back in time. It is well written so that you get a glimpse of the world at that time and it gives you a wonderful mystery as to who is behind the attacks and keeps you guessing as to what will happen next. The many twists and turns keep you engrossed as you try to figure out who is behind all the mishaps that keep happening.

I give this one 4-1/2 Red Roses."

Buy details here:

http://lindsaysbookchat.blogspot.com/2009/01/bronze-lightning.html

Best wishes, Lindsay
Lindsay Townsend

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

2009-05-09T20:51:00.000-07:00

For any of you who have kids, pets or nieces and nephews, I want to wish you a wonderful Mother's Day.

Sarah McNeal

http://www.sarahmcneal.com/

Heroes and kings

2009-04-30T02:05:00.000-07:00

I could look at this famous Burne-Jones picture, King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid, for hours. It shows one of the romance ideals - the ultimate Cinderella story. King Cophetua, smitten by love for the beggar girl, finds her, offers her his heart and marries her. (Naturally, she says yes!)

It's the stuff of romance, even modern romance. Over and over, the rich, powerful hero 'rescues' the Cinderella heroine: the struggling artist, waitress, actress, secretary. As a myth it's comforting to the man, showing him as a powerful hero figure. Women, too, can enjoy the fantasy of being swept up into luxury - who wouldn't?

I'd love to see more role-reversal of this myth: the queen raising up the beggar lad, the woman of power showering her hero with gifts. Woman not only as care-giver or healer but as bestower.

I don't write role reversal very often, although I did have fun with the ideas in Bronze Lightning, in the relationship between Bride and her young lover.

Here's a role reversal excerpt from Bronze Lightning, where Bride the warrior woman uses her sword in a very original way.

EXCERPT.

Bride entered the house first and heard Fearn behind her draw Sarmatia into a dark corner. 'Goar's in our chamber. Tonight it's yours,' he whispered. He and Sarmatia disappeared.
Bride picked her way round the sleeping royal family and banked-down fire. She could see that the smallest room—really no more than an alcove—was open. A tall figure lurked beside the bed, dressed in loin cloth and jet necklace.
'I'm glad you chose the black amber.' Bride closed the hangings behind her.
'Anything to please. Will you bury me in it?'
So Goar thought he knew her mind. Bride unsheathed her sword, floated its point up to his left shoulder. 'There. The bead was wrong.' She arranged it with the blade tip. 'Now you've seen her, do you think Sarmatia beautiful?' The lethal point trailed down his chest.
'For a woman in man's clothes she's outstanding.'
The fool was brave. The point had reached his lights. The blade side twanged, a gentle reprimand, against the hard flatness of his stomach, and jagged along the top of the loin cloth. Goar hadn't the length of arm to retaliate as the sword stroked along his flanks. Involuntarily, his hips moved.
'Just like a man. Fickle.'
There was no mistaking the satisfaction in Bride's voice. Goar was resentful. The hesitant caresses of his Atterian girls had been nothing as deadly-sensuous as this.
Warmed by his body, the blunter sides of the rapier scraped on Goar's dark-blond leg hairs and glided upwards. Resentment sharpened as the sword mesmerized him. The point touched him intimately, through the cloth. Goar began to sweat. His breathing was like that of one of his girls, in their moment of yielding. He hated the humiliation.
'Hate? You'd kill me if you could.' Bride goaded him.
Goar began to pant. The blunt part of the blade alternated with the narrower tip in a killing parody of a woman's mouth and tongue. Abruptly, both were withdrawn. Goar swayed slightly.
'Here I am—the woman you swore you'd never bed.' Bride's mouth was dry as she dropped sword and tunic by her heels.
Goar forgot danger and his years of turning aside. He stepped forward.
'Wait!'
His potent picture of himself shattered, but Bride wasn’t teasing. Frowning, she picked up the sword and flicked back one of the bed furs. A long black shape struck at her and she recoiled.
The adder spilled over the bed, fell writhing on the alcove floor, followed by a spider. Another dozen huge spiders scrambled over the furs in every direction. Goar caught the adder's tail, whipped it onto the bed, bundled snake and spiders' nest into the biggest fur and carried it to the midden.
Returning, he found Bride almost as he'd left her, except that she'd been sick in the waste bucket. When he touched it, her hand was clammy.
'I didn't put them there.’ Goar didn't insult her by suggesting that the adder and spiders had found their own way into the alcove. 'Did the snake bite you?'
'No. We'd better find Fearn.' Bride choked, her shoulders heaving. This time, she managed to keep the sickness down. 'I don't think that gift was meant for us.' She tried to laugh. 'Unless Sarmatia brought the adder here.'
Neither idea seemed likely to Goar. 'Forget it. A bad joke.' The families had drunk a skinful tonight. Anyone could have dumped their bedfellows into the alcove while he was out at the midden. Goar squeezed Bride's chilly fingers. 'The snake's gone. You can sit down.'
She stared at him with the round eyes of a child. Men or snakes were one thing, but everyone has a weakness. Goar gave his light laugh, suddenly understanding.
'Let's make sure we've no other bedtime visitors.'
Hand in hand they scoured the tiny chamber and shook the remaining furs. Two spiders dropped to the floor and Goar pushed at Bride before she stiffened. 'Into bed with you. I'll get rid of these.'
He didn't kill them. The spiders had made a peace between him and Bride.

News about new books

2009-04-19T12:40:00.000-07:00

I feel dreadful because I haven't managed to get on for a week or two and I probably won't for the next few weeks so I am blogging tonight while I have the chance. My latest HMB will be out next month. It is the first of a triolgy and every book has Hanover Square in the title - my publisher's idea. I hope it doesn't confuse readers! The first is A Country Miss in Hanover Square and I've just finished the proofs of the final book so that series is nicely tucked to bed.

On the ebook side I have Dark Ancient Queen going through the editing process with Amira Press and the cover is good. They usually produce good covers. I am terribly busy working on a series of long books for my agent. These are intended for mainstream, and as the first has gone in I may have news before too long.

Apologies to whoever posts today. Hope this doesn't interfere with your posting. I will be back when I can. Best wishes to everyone and I hope my readers enjoy the new Anen Herries book.

The cover is from the second book in the Family Feud book from Severn House.

Love from Linda/Anne

Happy Easter/Passover

2009-04-12T07:16:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter/Passover

Whatever you are doing to celebrate the holidays, I hope that you'll have fun and enjoy this day of renewal.

My family is having a luncheon and we're each bringing our favorite foods and enjoy conversation and good eats till we drop. My sister volunteered to work at the hospital today so she doesn't have to bring anything.

I'm going to take a little private time after things settle down and remember those I've lost this year, my friend Joyce, my sister, Marlene whose birthday would have been April 17 and my loving dog Kate. Then I'm going to plan my vacation to Hilton Head that was given as a gift from my buddy, Mike Hinson, plan a garden and start looking for a puppy. It's time for me to go forward with my life and find some happiness again and this is the perfect time of year to do that.

To all of you I wish you a wonderful holiday.

Wishing you happiness to your corner of the universe.

Sarah McNeal

www.sarahmcneal.com

Twitter Blog: What's Happening?#links

2009-04-08T19:18:00.000-07:00

Twitter Blog: What's Happening?#links
www.myspace.com/prichardson24
www.leapoffaithpublishing.com
www.patriciarichardson.info

Five Tombstone Review for Dark Phoenix!!!

2009-04-06T07:49:00.000-07:00

Dark Phoenix has received a FIVE tombstone review from Justice at Bitten by Books! Thank you so much, Justice!

Here's a snippet of her review!

Dark Phoenix is a dramatic action packed page turner. Once the first page is opened you are instantly transported to a desert planet not fit for human kind, it is so well written your mouth will parch. I felt as if I was part of the story, like a ghost unseen in each scene. Literally, in my mind’s eye I could see the action, the jarring of the battles vibrated my seat, the seductive caresses of the love shared between the characters made me yearn to curl up next to someone special. Ms. Matthews has definitely did it again she brings her audience into her world and if most are like me they will want to stay there a while.
Justice, Bitten By Books!
Read the full review by following this link! Dark Phoenix review!

~Marly

Homecoming Video Book Trailer...

2009-04-04T17:41:00.000-07:00

Just a few more days before Homecoming is released! Check out my video book trailer. Enjoy!

'A Knight's Captive' out today

2009-04-01T05:24:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited - my latest Kensington Zebra historical romance, A Knight's Captive, is out today! All the details, including an excerpt, are on my blog here, and there's a four-star review from Romantic Times.

Best wishes, Lindsay

Goodreads Giveaway

2009-03-25T22:38:00.001-07:00

Goodreads.com is giving away 3 signed copies of Reckless Liaisons. If you have a Goodreads account, go here to enter. If you don't have an account, create one and then enter (Goodreads is a wonderful site, you won't regret it!). Winners will be selected on April 20th.

Good luck!

Book Video for Dark Phoenix by Marly Mathews

2009-03-18T04:40:00.001-07:00

I have made a book video for Dark Phoenix! Check it out and enjoy!

'Bronze Lightning' out now

2009-03-17T03:16:00.000-07:00

Hello - I'm Lindsay Townsend and I'm delighted to be blogging at Moonlight Romance Authors. I write medievals ('A Knight's Captive' is due out from Kensington in April), but I also write books set in the ancient Mediterranean. Here's the blurb and an excerpt from my new ancient world historical romance, Bronze Lightning, set in ancient Krete, Egypt and England. This novel is available from Bookstrand and out now.

The cover and buy details can be seen here.

Ancient Krete, 1562 B.C.

Sarmatia is a trainer for the Bull Rite, the dangerous, glamorous ceremony of bull-leaping that gave a young Kretan entry into adulthood. Fearn is healer from the distant northern Isle of Stones summoned for his skills to the sick-bed of Minos, the Kretan king. They meet on the dusty flagstones of the palace courtyard and both save a life.
A year passes. They are betrothed, but Fearn has returned home and is chosen king of his small northern country. As king, master of storms, he cannot return to Krete. Fearn writes to Sarmatia releasing her from her vows - but is this what they really want?
Sarmatia leaves Krete to search for Fearn. Many months and life-and-death adventures later, she is reunited with him. She and Fearn are still deeply in love but there is an unknown enemy working against them, one who will stop at nothing, even murder.

Excerpt:

Krete, c.1562 BC. Summer.

Sarmatia spun away and was gone, somersaulting over her hands and landing with a soft clash of gold ankle bells. Their meeting of eyes had lasted no more than a breath, yet it kept returning to haunt her as the music shrilled to a climax and the piebald bull was let into the court. Even as the flute players left and the Bull Rite began, her gaze was drawn to the back of the courtyard.
Three of the seven had completed their Passage and two were gone: the fourth initiate should have been ready. As the bull came to a jolting stop at one end of the court, pawed restively and licked the painted flags, Sarmatia motioned to a creamy-skinned, gray-eyed girl. The youngster backed up a step. The bull raised its head, its horn scraping against a pillar. The girl blanched and looked wildly about, ready to run. In three strides Sarmatia made up the space between them and gripped her arm. Unseen by the families, she pressed the flat of her dagger into the initiate's side. Cruel to be kind, she threatened.
'This or the bull if you show your back, Pero!' she whispered, turning the blade for the girl to feel its edge. 'The only way out is through the horns.' Whatever Sarmatia's private disgust and unease, custom and the crowd demanded it. They would not forgive Pero if she failed.
'I can't!' Pero was shaking and near tears. A low murmur ran around the watching crowd like a wind through barley: the mob and the bull would not wait much longer. Pierced by pity, Sarmatia squeezed the girl's thin shoulder. 'Do you want to be a child all your life?' she asked gently.
'Sarmatia, I can't! Those horns, they're like knives, and the bull— Oh, Mother!' Pero's voice cracked. 'It's looking for me!' The bull had trotted out of the shadows at the back of the courtyard.
Sarmatia stepped in front of Pero, shielding the girl. 'Look, it's nothing.' She ran forward, clapping her hands.
The bull halted and its head slewed round towards them, a brown forelock covering one eye. 'To me!' she shouted.
The beast dropped its great horns. She heard the people applaud. With an explosion of dust the bull charged. She felt its hot, closed mind surrounding her. For an instant skill deserted her. She remembered she was too old for the Bull Rite. A blaze of gold spilled from the bull's horns, instinct returned and with it sureness. She caught the horns and let herself rise. Time and the horizon fell back, she could see the blue vault of heaven, the red-mouthed 'O' of the crowd, a flash of red-gold hair as Fearn turned his head, following her descent. Her feet touched the bony rump of the bull, she tucked in her arms and somersaulted off, running forward as she landed.
Behind her the beast gave a sulky grunt, swept this way and that with its horns and lashed its tail. Pero worked her way into its sight, swaying her hips to keep quick and supple. The piebald ambled off in the opposite direction then suddenly spun about and bore down on the girl in another burst of speed. Sarmatia moved to cover Pero's tumble and signalled to the remaining initiates to do the same. She heard the girl seize the bull's horns, with a great smack on each palm, and saw her tossed, arching like a dolphin in mid-air and rising clear of the deadly gilded horns. The time of peril would be when the girl landed. If Pero caught an ankle or winded herself, Sarmatia knew she would have to be in quickly to distract the beast.
There was a shower of dark hair and Pero touched earth to a roar from her family. Sarmatia grabbed her arm and pulled her clear, but was not fast enough: already the bull had skidded round. Too late, Sarmatia realized what the beast had seen. A child had kicked a hole in the fencing and was running out into the turbid afternoon light. No time to draw the bull off— all she could hope for was to reach the boy first.
Sprinting, her insides turning to water, Sarmatia rushed for the child. As her hands closed round his tiny—so tiny!—body and her cheek grazed the stones she thought, with terrible clarity: I promised they would be safe. I've failed.
For a second, a dark breathing shadow hung over her. Then came pain, the slow tearing punch of the horn.
* * * *
She came awake suddenly, crying out. Firm hands kept her flat against the stones.
'Peace, Kretan,' said the man crouched beside her, pressing a cloth onto the spurting wound in her side. 'There's nothing to fear.' In the sun his hair framed his broad-featured face like a nimbus, yet there was darkness behind him. The bull was still free in the courtyard.
Sarmatia wet her lips with her tongue. 'The child?'
Fearn jerked his head to one side. 'Ramose has taken his son. He's safe.' The initiates were also gone, the crowd hanging back, uncertain what to do.
They were alone in the court, except for the bull. Fearn pressed on her side again then withdrew the cloth. A dark spiral of blood pooled under Sarmatia's ribs; blood no longer pumped from the wound. She scarcely felt it as he bound the gash with a bandage made from his tunic. 'You must leave, Sir, the bull—'
She broke off, eyes widening, and Fearn whipped round. Ready to gore, the bull was lowering its huge head, its face so close that its breath stirred the bristles of Fearn's beard. Fearn threw up an arm to fend off the horns and drove a fist into the face of the beast. 'Get back!' He hit the creature a second time. 'Learn your lesson!'
The bull snorted and the healer shifted, covering Sarmatia completely with his body. He stamped the stones and shouted at the beast. ‘Go on! Go on!’
As Fearn's boot hammered the flags, there came the rumble of a distant storm, like the muffled roar of a lion. The beast started back and with a bellow turned tail and ran.

Best wishes, Lindsay

[Image of bull-leaping fresco from Wikimedia Commons.]

Trailer for Deeply Hidden Desires...

2009-03-12T19:55:00.000-07:00

Homecoming by Regina Paul

2009-03-09T16:58:00.001-07:00

I'm excited to say I have a brand new release coming out on April 7, 2009 from Eternal Press. So, thought I'd post an unedited blurb and exerpt.

Blurb:

Eagle and Crew were once more than lovers. They were bond mates, connected not just by a heart bond, but by a strong psychic bond that allowed them to communicate telepathically. While an older Eagle was ready for the committment of their bonding ceremony, Crew was not. Eagle pushed. They fought. Crew left, heading for the stars he longed to explore. Five years later Crew has returned and is now ready to make his committment to Eagle permanent with the bonding ceremony. But will a blazing hot encounter lead to the homecoming Crew has been dreaming about, or does Eagle have revenge on his mind?

Exerpt:

Stepping back a bit but still keeping his arm around the younger man’s shoulders, Eagle began walking them towards the wide open doors at the other end of the building. Outside Crew could see twinkling stars in shades of aqua, pink and blue, as well as the pink and purple shrouded Oberion Nebula that filled a quarter of his world’s night sky. “Yes, where else would I live?”

“Well, I just thought that maybe…” Crew let his words trail off.

“That I would want to move so I could forget you?” Eagle finished for him. Then he looked down into Crew’s peridot colored eyes and said, “Crew, I never want to forget you. Not then and not now.”

Guilt sleeted through Crew; he had wanted to forget Eagle. He had in fact done everything he could to forget the man, even going so far as to purchase a male prostitute who was said to know some very interesting sexual techniques. In the end it hadn’t mattered, he hadn’t been able to bear even the touch of the man’s fingers against his hand. “I tried to forget you.” He whispered, his eyes lowered in shame.

“I know, I felt it when you tried to…” This time it was Eagle’s turn to let his voice trail off into nothingness.

“Nothing happened. I couldn’t even bear for him to so much as touch my hand. I ended up paying him, and sending him on his way.” Crew looked up into the older man’s face, his eyes earnest.

“Yes, I know. I saw it through your eyes.” This was said quietly and Eagle’s fingers tightened almost to the point of pain on Crew’s shoulder before they loosened and Eagle let out a sigh. “The important thing is you’re home.”

“Yes.” It was strange. Eagle wasn’t asking him if he was planning on staying or putting any pressure on him to stay. He seemed like he wanted to bond with him again, but he wasn’t trying to pressure him into a lifetime commitment as he had five years before. Of course that could be due to the fact that it had been five years since they’d last seen each other, and they had only been in each other’s presence for fifteen minutes or so. It could also be because the man wanted some kind of revenge. Still the behavior was so unlike Eagle, that Crew didn’t know what to make of it.

When they reached the tall building that housed Eagle’s apartment déjà vu overwhelmed Crew as he remembered the last time he had been here. They’d fought over the commitment ceremony or rather Crew’s unwillingness to have one until after he’d seen something of the universe. His last memory had been of Eagle standing at the glass front door watching him with pain-filled eyes as he walked away heading to the spaceport and his newly purchased ship. His final shouted words to Eagle had been, “Fuck you! I don’t need this shit! If you can’t accept me as I am, accept my dreams then you don’t deserve me!” The memory reminded him of what a hothead he’d been at twenty-one. He liked to think that five years had mellowed him somewhat, but only time would tell if that was true with regards to his relationship with Eagle. They had always set sparks off of each other, and not just in bed.

The elevator ride was over in seconds, and the hallways they traveled through though decorated differently in greens this time instead of blues were familiar as was the door to Eagle’s apartment. Unlike in their past doors could now be any shape at all from rectangular to triangular to round. Eagle had always liked his doors round, a throw back to his Native American ancestry back on their mother world, Earth.

“Why don’t you unlock the door.”

Crew threw Eagle a disbelieving look, before asking incredulously. “You mean my retina scan is still in there?”

“Yes.” Eagle stroked one long brown finger down the side of his face. “I knew you would come back home eventually.” He dropped his hand and shrugged one shoulder.

(c) Copyright 2009 by Regina Paul. All Rights Reserved.

A Modern Vampire

2009-03-06T10:29:00.000-08:00

A Modern Vampire by Anne Ireland Amira PressISBN: 978-1-935348-17-7Pages: 57

Jenna Marsh has worked hard to become the head of her family’s business, Marsh Institute. Jenna has worked very hard for her family and the company. She knows as long as the company succeeds then vampires around the world will be able to live in the daylight and have fuller lives. Being a vampire herself she knows how difficult it can be to live in the real world. She has one problem that everyone is telling her to take care of. Someone is trying to find out the truth about their kind and that could lead to a lot of problems if the world finds out there really are vampires.Vinnie Paige is a researcher who is being paid to find out the truth about vampires. In all his research about all things paranormal he has found some very old references to vampires. Vinnie is one the best researchers in this field. Vinnie has been trying to find out more information on the Marsh Company but keeps coming up against a firewall in their system. He has come close but so far hasn’t been able to find out what he needs to. Jenna knows Vinnie is trying to get into their systems but is hesitant about permanently stopping him. There is something about him that keeps drawing her to him. But she doesn’t understand how a human can make her feel so strongly about them. As if that wasn’t enough to deal with she has a rogue vampire that is starting to draw attention to them. The vampire needs to be stopped but first she has to figure out who it is and get the evidence necessary to take to the council so the vampire can be stopped.Now if only Jenna could get things to work out things just might start looking up.This is a really good book that you hate to see end. It has a different twist on vampires that makes it new and fresh and brings new things to all things vampire. I enjoyed the way the author’s idea of how vampires came to be. This is one worth reading. I give this one 5 red roses

March Madness!

2009-03-03T11:47:00.000-08:00

March has definitely come in like a lion for me!

First, the release of Reckless Liaisons, my first new novel in over two years.

Yesterday, I learned that "Caging Kat" won the 2009 FANTASM Award for Best Overall Speculative Romance (Short Story). Additionally, my wonderful bffs Stella and Audra Price won THREE FANTASMS.

And today I discovered that Reckless Liaisons is a Recommended Read at FAR. Sandie says:
"Reckless Liaisons by Kayleigh Jamison is sure to be a favorite with every Regency reader... Ms. Jamison delivers a story that will intrigue and captivate you. Julia and Sebastian's love story sweeps you along from the halls of his stately manor to the theaters of London. The description in each scene carries you back in time to Regency London to horse drawn carriages on cobblestone streets and debutante balls, where the slightest misadventure could ruin a young lady's reputation forever. This is a fantastic read and one that you will want to revisit time and again."

Reckless Liaisons Now Available!

2009-03-01T21:10:00.000-08:00

RECKLESS LIAISONS

Kayleigh Jamison

Black Lyon Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-934912-13-3

Ebook

(Print is available through most major retailers online, and in select bookstores – if yours doesn’t have it, ask!)

Was she a second chance at love—
or his golden opportunity for revenge?

Sebastian Cade, reclusive Duke of Rutland, has gone to great lengths to withdraw from the London society he’s come to despise. Still reeling from betrayal and tragedy, he finds himself powerfully attracted to his lovely new raven-haired ward—so much so that he begins to question the last five years of his life.

When Julia Deveraux awakens in the Duke’s rose garden, the memories flood back. A betrothal she detests. The great black horse stolen from her father. Her near escape … Now under Sebastian’s care, she sees the rumors of his disfigurement are far from true. But will her secret connection to his sworn enemy tear them apart before love brings them together?

"Kayleigh Jamison has written a Regency romance that is titillating and amusing, fast-paced and well-crafted, luscious and seductive all at once. The characters and story will quickly pull you in and leave you wanting more as you turn each page. The author has written a book that has the reader laughing one moment, and feeling hot and bothered the next. I will eagerly be looking for Ms. Jamison's next book."
Night Owl Romance

"Good read! RECKLESS LIAISONS is a well-constructed story with each character having their own voice and distinctive personality. It is a historical account of London society filled with Dukes, Earls and debutantes that makes you wish you too were a Lady or Gent. Never a dull moment, this story is engaging with its well constructed climaxes and conversational tone. This intriguing story involves all my favorites: gentlemen, galas, power, deceit, handsome faces and of course romance."
Coffee Time Romance

http://www.kayleighjamison.com

A Promise Made

2009-02-28T01:57:00.000-08:00

A Promise Made is my new Linda Sole book from Severn House. This is the second in the Family Feud series and is out in March. The Lie was the first in this series and it has received a wonderful review in the Historical Novel Review magazine.

It says that neither the title nor the cover does justice to this outstanding wartime saga. It also praises the book for extracting every grain of emotional value and ends up, I quote:

The book cleverly winds up tension to the end. It is one of the very best wartime sagas and a pleasure to review.

The review was by Geoffrey Harfield - and no I don't know him.

I was thrilled to get this and wanted to share. The cover is for my new book.

As a footnote. Chateau Despair is now available in print from amazon.com as well as in ebook.

Love to all, Linda

Cover for Homecoming...

2009-02-22T19:24:00.000-08:00

I'm very excited to say I have the cover for Homecoming, my new gay erotic scifi that's coming out with Eternal Press on April 7, 2009! I really love how Shirley Burnett took my vision and turned it into a stellar cover. Thanks Shirley!

Wanna see too? Here it is!

I love how she she portrayed my characters here, and she even got the nebula from my story into the background. As you can see I'm really bubbling, I just love getting a new cover. LOL

My World Has Gone Dark

2009-02-15T17:21:00.000-08:00

It is with great sadness that I tell all of you that my darling, loving, sweet Golden Retriever, Kate, died February 13. She was diagnosed with bone cancer on Halloween and was only expected to live a few weeks. She must have felt the love and care around her because she lived 3 and 1/2 months. I took this picture of her just before Christmas. She loved riding in the car and greeting people with her mouth stuffed with toys. In the last 24 hours of her life she was in so much pain that none of her medicines helped her. I called the vet and they arranged to meet Kate with a stretcher and she was allowed to go in peace. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I loved her so much and the house is empty without her.

An hour after I got home from the vet's, I got a call from the nurse in the intensive care unit in Minnesota that my big sister had died. Marlene taught me how to drive because she was the only one with the patience and fearlessness to do it. She saved my life once and gave me some good advice when I most needed it. I don't have a picture of her uploaded on my computer or I would share that with you.

There is a dark shadow over my corner of the universe right now. Thanks to my friends and family I know I'll get back into the sunshine some day--just not today.

Sarah McNeal

http://www.sarahmcneal.com/

Writer"s Block

2009-01-26T20:48:00.000-08:00

There's been a great deal of talk on the loops lately about writer's block *gulp*. Discussion has gone round and round about what to do if it strikes. Even in my brand bew issue of RWR magazine, there was an article about how to kick start your muse. That being said, I'd just like to let you know that help is on the way.
Carolina Romance Writers, my local chapter of RWA, has a great onine workshop coming up in February. Here's the info: (Don't worry about the cut off, they will let you register right up to the class start up date. And if you're a recluse and just want the information, they keep all the classes in the files section so you can download it.)

February Online Workshops
February 2-27, 2009 Standard WorkshopUsing Writer’s Block As Building BlocksPresented by Raquel Rodriguez

Want to just write? Stop fighting your Muse! Dry spells can indicate the dreaded writer’s block, a rough wall to hurtle. Teacher and writer, Raquel Rodriguez, can help you understand the possible causes for this challenge and offers several ways to break through. Learn what story options may be hiding from you and how to trust your instincts to make the right decision that can help move your story forward. Work with several block-breaking writing exercises you can use as building blocks to help get you writing again and build your scenes and story in the right direction. Topics Covered:- Scenes that refuse to be written- Finding the right words- Staring at a intimidating blank page or computer monitor- Reasons we get stuck in the middle of the story- Sweating that deadline
Growing up around ghosts and having written stories since her teens, native Texan and published author Raquel Rodriguez is used to things that go "bump" 24/7. With a passion for Science Fiction, anything paranormal, Space Opera, and writing romance, Raquel blends these elements into her passionate stories with twists of action and suspense. She has studied, taught and lectured about Parapsychology for over 25 years, utilizing Astrology, Astrological Tarot and Vogler’s 12 steps to plot her stories. Raquel 's personal motto is, "Never give up, never surrender!" and she writes at least five FF&P romance stories per year with her specific story planning and plotting techniques. For more information, please visit her website at www.RaquelRodriguez.com.
*Please Note: If paying by Paypal, please send money to workshops@carolinaromancewriters.com.
Registration Deadline: January 25th
To register, go to www.carolinaromancewriters.com and click onto "workshops" tab at the top of the page and then "February" on the roll out calendar. I hope you'll check it out.
Sarah McNeal
www.sarahmcneal.com

THE CRINGE OF ROMANCE

2009-01-22T06:45:00.000-08:00

The Romantic Cringe

Often times people will ask me what I write when they first learn that I am a published writer. My gut reaction is a sudden desire to lie and explain in lofty terms that I write alternative fiction. I want to throw out a lot of baloney about time travel, science fiction, adventure, Western or even experimental dabbling into creative fiction. I could duck the entire issue and act like I just saw someone I know across the room and I must be off to greet them. The last thing I want to tell them is that I’m a romance writer.

I know. I know. I’m a coward. But the minute I tell an enthusiastic person that I’m a romance writer, I have to endure their deflated interest and sudden monotone voice depicting low esteem when they respond with, “Oh. That’s nice.”What the heck? It’s as if my IQ just dropped and my efforts to get that POV right and the hours I agonized working the plot into an exciting revelation meant absolutely nothing—because I write romance.

Some people just don’t get it. Writing about the most tender feelings two people can have for one another and making them find ways to overcome impossible obstacles to have that one person their heart yearns for is an amazing amount of work to get it right and make it lift the heart. Is it nobler to write dark tombs with sad endings than those filled with hope and ending in happiness? Apparently. Is it easier somehow to forge a romance than a murder? In the minds of many, yes.

Well, for myself, I delight in reading romance and I have no desire to write anything else. I enjoy happy endings and stories that make me believe in the impossible. My life is filled with the harsh edges of reality and the sting and bite of everyday existence. When I settle down into bed at night, I like to close my day within the pages of a wonderful romance that allows me to believe that the world really can be a better place.
Sarah J. McNeal
www.sarahmcneal.com

Frost, Flame and Flower...

2009-01-19T19:24:00.000-08:00

Just wanted to pop in and let everyone know I've posted a new free story to Free Romance Fiction It's a holiday story about Jack Frost and a very naught flower fairy/flame elemental named Poinsettia.

Blurb:
When Jack Frost accidentally freezes Poinsettia's poinsettia plants days before Christmas, she is furious! Hurt, and angry, Poinsettia tells Jack she never wants to see him again. Taking her at her word, he disappears for 100 years. Will a visit from Dar-Flame, Poinsettia's flame elemental father convince him to return to the North Pole and Poinsettia? Will she welcome him with open arms, or a ball of flame? Read the story to find out! It's in the Holiday section. :-)

A Modern Vampire

2009-01-17T08:45:00.000-08:00

I had not realised how long it was since I last posted here. Apologies to everyone but i got caught up in Christmas and since then I have been busy working and reading. I just managed to get through The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. this is a wonderful book that has made a tremendous impression on me. I feel as if I have been walking in a dream for days and have just come out at the other end. I intend to review it because it such a good book.

I on the other hand have a little Vampire book out with amira Press called A Modern Vampire/Anne Ireland. It was great fun to write. Jenna is a modern woman in every wway. Seh just happens to be a Vampire. If you feel like a light read for fun this book breaks all the rules.

I also have The White Dress coming with Eternal Press next month and Daddy Loves Belinda will be repblished by Red rose Publishing soon.

Love to you all. Linda/Anne

Sharon Cullars Chip In Auction

2009-01-15T19:54:00.001-08:00

Hi all:

Some of you may be familiar with author Sharon Cullars and her recent struggle to keep her home. Emma Peterson, Karen Scott, and others have organized an auction to help raise money. Many authors (including Nalini Singh, Lorelei James, and Shiloh Walker), editors, promoters, designers, and reviewers have donated items to the auction, which will be held January 19th. I have offered up autographed copies of every work of mine in print, as well as an ebook bundle of ALL of my titles in electronic format. Information on each is below.

If you have anything you'd like to donate yourself, there's still time. Visit the auction site for information on how. These are difficult times for everyone. I myself have no steady income other than student loan checks and quarterly royalties. I know many others have lost their homes, their jobs, or both. A very close author friend of mine just moved her family across the country after her husband was laid off from his job, only for him to be laid off again, a month after their arrival.

That's why it's important to help when, where, and how we can. To band together as a community of book lovers and show we DO care about each other.

Leading Her to Heaven

Kayleigh Jamison

ISBN 13: 978-1-934678-45-9

Trade Paperback 224 pages

Ebook

Historical Erotic Romance

As the eldest daughter of an English earl, Lady Susanna Cavendish has led a sheltered life of privilege and leisure. She has been taught that her northern cousins, the Scots, are barbaric heathens with no regard for culture or civilization.

Notorious warrior Blair Ruthven is laird of the fiercest clan in Scotland. Born into a society rife with blood feuds and an engrained hatred for the English, Blair learns at an early age that trust and love do little more than damn and disappoint.

Forced into marriage by feuding kings in order to forge a political union between their countries, Blair and Susanna must learn to find peace between themselves as they battle ages-old prejudices – and vie for one another's hearts.

Svetkavista

Kayleigh Jamison

ISBN 13: 978-1-934678-43-5

Trade Paperback 216 pages

Ebook

Historical Erotic Romance/GLBT Romance

(warning: contains explicit m/f, f/f, and f/f/m)

Trapped within a life where she has always been an outsider, Karina dutifully follows the wishes of her father by day, and secretly pursues her dreams by night. Raised within the strict, patriarchal society of the Rom at a time when discrimination and fear are at their peak, she is forced to hide both her love of music and her passion for those who encourage her dreams.

She seeks comfort in the arms of her dearest friend and mentor, who shows her that love and lust rarely confine themselves to the ill-conceived notions of normalcy.

When a lie, spoken in a moment of desperation, threatens to shatter everything Karina holds dear, she must choose between those she loves and her own reputation. Will the truth set her free or destroy her? Does she have the courage to follow her own heart?

Unspeakable

Kayleigh Jamison

ISBN 13: 978-1604359350

Trade Paperback 70 pages

Ebook

Historical (Regency-set) Erotic Romance

Trevor Caufield has always prided himself on being a consummate rake...until a clandestine meeting with a mysterious, strangely silent woman in a darkened hallway. Setting out to pursue Emma Hatton with purely selfish intentions, he discovers emotions that transcend his formerly uncomplicated existence and teach him that true love has no need for words.

Caging Kat

Kayleigh Jamison

ISBN 13: 978-1-934678-83-1

Ebook Only

Paranormal Erotic Romance

2009 FANTASM Finalist - Best Overall Speculative Romance, Short Story

An infamous art thief, Kaitlin lives a life most can only dream of. There's one problem, though - she's bored. When a mysterious invitation to a masquerade ball appears in her mailbox, she decides to attend on a whim.

Ares, God of War, has had his eyes on the feisty Kat for some time. But can he win her over with only one night to tame her wild heart? Can he get what he's always wanted by fulfilling her deepest desires?

Eyes Like Yours

Kayleigh Jamison

ISBN 13: 978-1-60435-000-5

Ebook Only

Paranormal Erotic Romance

What happens when your dream become a reality or does it?

Each night is the same. A handsome, mysterious stranger visits Catherine in her dreams, never allowing her to see his face, and leaving her body satisfied, but her heart wanting more. With a chance encounter in the smoky confines of a night club puts Caroline face to face with a man whose eyes seem eerily familiar, dreams and reality colliding in a way that frightens and inflames her. Are her dreams real? Is Blake the key to her future – and her past?

And be one of the first to get my upcoming book, the first full-length novel I've put out in over two years, RELEASING MARCH 1:

Reckless Liaisons

Kayleigh Jamison

ISBN 13: 978-1-934912-13-3

Trade Paperback: 204 pages

Ebook

Historical (Regency-set) Romance

Was she a second chance at love—
or his golden opportunity for revenge?

Sebastian Cade, reclusive Duke of Rutland, has gone to great lengths to withdraw from the London society he's come to despise. Still reeling from betrayal and tragedy, he finds himself powerfully attracted to his lovely new raven-haired ward—so much so that he begins to question the last five years of his life.

When Julia Deveraux awakens in the Duke's rose garden, the memories flood back. A betrothal she detests. The great black horse stolen from her father. Her near escape … Now under Sebastian's care, she sees the rumors of his disfigurement are far from true. But will her secret connection to his sworn enemy tear them apart before love brings them together?

Wow!

2009-01-11T16:00:00.001-08:00

I got the news yesterday that "Caging Kat" is a finalist in the 2009 Fantasm Awards, in the category Best Overall Speculative Romance - Short Story/Novella.

Voting on winners begins soon, I'll keep you posted! Thank you to whomever nominated me, what a wonderful surprise!

January Special/Contest from Regina Paul...

2009-01-01T23:37:00.000-08:00

I wanted to make sure I posted here about a special/contest I'm running for the month of January. If you've never purchased a copy of my Native American romantic suspense and Amira Press Around the World of Romance Winner, Destiny's Choices, January is the month to do so! For a blurb and exerpt, visit reginapaul.com

Anyone who purchases a copy of Destiny's Choices during the month of January will be entered into a contest to win a free copy of every book I publish in 2009. Keep in mind that I already have two books contracted for 2009, and it's only January 1st! All you have to do is forward a copy of your confirmation e-mail to me at tiwatz@yahoo.com that you get from Amira Press when you buy the book and you'll be automatically entered. Some lucky winner is going to get free books for a year, so buy your copy today!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

2008-12-24T19:34:00.000-08:00

Wishing you and yours a very merry Christmas and a New Year filled with hope, happiness and peace.

Sarah McNeal and my little darlings, kate, Acorn and Liberty

http://www.sarahmcneal.com/

Caging Kat is Joyfully Recommended!

2008-12-16T03:02:00.001-08:00

My paranormal erotic short story, "Caging Kat," has been named a recommended read at Joyfully Reviewed! Shayna calls it "...fast, fun, and hot enough to burn...Wickedly delightful!"

"Caging Kat" is currently available in ebook format here. If you still haven't joined the e-revolution, have patience, the story will be released in print in a few months time as part of the Festivals anthology from Tease.

Blurb: An infamous art thief, Kaitlin lives a life most can only dream of. There's one problem, though - she's bored. When a mysterious invitation to a masquerade ball appears in her mailbox, she decides to attend on a whim.

Ares, God of War, has had his eyes on the feisty Kat for some time. But can he win her over with only one night to tame her wild heart? Can he get what he's always wanted by fulfilling her deepest desires?

My latest Anne Herries

2008-12-05T13:53:00.000-08:00

My latest Anne Herries is the third in my Melford Dynasty series. It is currently on sale in America. My new book in UK is The Rake's Rebellious Lady. both are doing very well and have been in the best seller lists at amazon UK and fictionwise.com.

I wanted to tell you all about the great Christmas contest at Red Rose Publishing blog. You can access it from http://www.redrosepublishing.com/

There are four contests. Each contest will be won by one winner. There are eight prizes for each contest. Check it out and have a go!

And come to the party on 13th December at Red rose publishing's group for more prizes, fun, short stories and excerpts.

Buy The Violin And Get A Chance To Win An Ebook Reader

2008-12-04T05:40:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the wild and crazy, exhausting preChristmas shopping days. Well, here's a little something-something to gladden and warm your heart--an antiGrinch remedy, if you please. LOL.

If you buy my book, THE VIOLIN, from Amira Press you automatically get a chance to win an Ebook Reader from my publisher. In fact, for every book you buy, you get another chance to win and, when you buy 10 books, you get the 11th book free no matter what.

THE VIOLIN

THE VIOLIN by Sarah J. McNeal (Blurb)

Genevieve has dreamed about him all her life, but it isn’t until she buys his violin and finds the remnants of his life and the mystery of his death in 1927 within its case, that she makes a decision that will change her life forever. Is there a way to change the past and save the man who haunts her heart?
Excerpt:
THE VIOLIN at Amira Press by Sarah McNeal

The couple was left alone in the living room. John’s hands seemed to burn into Genevieve’s. She wanted him to stay with her like this forever. Her heart ached a little and she wasn’t sure why. “Are you really okay? She asked.
“Hell no, I’m not okay. I’m never okay around you.” He smiled charmingly. “Now that you’ve turned into a goddess with the help of my mother, I’m not sure I will ever be okay again,” he said and grinned.
Genevieve jerked her hands out of his grasp. “I don’t think your jokes are all that funny. You scared the life out of me,” she said angrily.
He reached around her and pulled his jacket from the back of the couch. “Come on, Genevieve, let’s get going.” He took her hand back in his firm grip and pulled her along behind him out the front door, off the little porch and across the yard to his motorcycle.
Genevieve skidded to a halt. “I’m not going to ride on that thing.” She felt the knot in her stomach form just looking at the motorcycle. What a dangerous piece of machinery it was.
“Yes you are,” John said determinedly.
“No I’m not.” Genevieve was obstinately determined that she was most certainly not going to get on that death machine. “I could get killed on that thing.” She looked at the Indian motorcycle as if it were a dragon seeking its next meal.
From the back yard came a miniature explosion. Matilda’s little shriek cut the air followed by the laughter of Will and Jimmy. John glanced at Genevieve and laughed lightly. “Well, looks like that cannon you bought Jimmy has gone over big.”
She scrunched her face into a frown not listening to a word he said. “I’m not going to ride on that thing, John.”
John turned to her and spoke in a low voice as if explaining something to a child. “Listen, honey, Sunbury is ten miles or more down the road. You couldn’t even walk the first two miles before those blisters would start to hurt again.”
He guided her slowly over to the motorcycle. “Now see, I have this wonderful wheeled horse just to take milady conveniently and, without walking on sore feet I might add, to a wonderful restaurant I know in Sunbury.”
He turned her around to face him. “Now we can stand here and argue all our time away on how we’re going to get there but, in the end little miss goddess of mine, you are going to get on this motorcycle if I have to drag you on it and tie you to me.” There was absolute resolution in his voice.
Genevieve knew she couldn’t win. John had to be the most stubborn person on the face of the earth. “Okay,” she relented barely audible, “I’ll do it but I want you to know I’m really scared. You better not get us killed.”
John threw a leg over the saddle of the bike and drew her on to the back where she sat with her legs tucked behind his. He laughed a little. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m not going to kill us, not on purpose any way.”
“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Genevieve snapped back sarcastically. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She wasn’t sure which bothered her more, riding on the motorcycle or John’s back pressed against her chest and her legs snugly folded next to his.
John reached back, took her hands, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “All you have to do is hang on tight and lean the way I lean. Got that?”
Genevieve was shaking too much to answer so she nodded her head even though she was sure he wasn’t really waiting for her permission. Her stomach clenched with anxiety and fear made her hands tremble.
John kicked the starter with his left heel and the engine sputtered into life. It sounded like a chain saw.
Genevieve hugged John’s waist in a death grip and laid her face against his back as he drew on his goggles over his eyes. “Genevieve,” he yelled over the roar of the engine, “I have to be able to breathe, honey, not that I don’t love you holding me that tight.” He laughed and the motorcycle lunged forward onto the dirt road.
Genevieve watched as John squeezed the clutch with his left hand and reached down to change the gear with his right hand on the stick gear in front of him.
“Aren’t we supposed to have on helmets? There’s a law about that,” Genevieve yelled into his back. She felt the rumble of his laughter on her cheek.
“I don’t think they have a law about that. We’re not going into battle; we’re just taking a ride.” He laughed out loud. “You might want to keep your mouth shut before a bug flies in it,” he shouted and laughed again.
The engine whined a few seconds as John changed gears again. The machine hummed as they scattered rocks and dirt in their wake down the country road. The wind blew through his hair and Genevieve’s braid flopped heavily in the wind the bike created.
“I never saw a motorcycle with a stick shift on the body before,” Genevieve called out over the roar of the engine. “Isn’t there some kind of shift thingy on the handlebar?”
“That’s a mighty interesting question seeing how there is no other motorcycle anywhere. Indian is all there is and this is where the gears are.” John was silent a moment than added, “But now that I think about it, it would sure be more convenient if the ‘thingy’ was on the handlebar.”
Genevieve was beginning to loosen her grip a little as she began to grow calm. A little burn of fear still scorched her stomach though. “Does this thing have brakes?” she called out the question.
“You’ll be glad to know there’s two. I got one in my right hand and the other is located here under my right foot. You couldn’t be any safer.” He spoke loudly making his voice rise above the engine noise. “Isn’t this the greatest?” He was obviously enjoying himself.
Genevieve wasn’t so sure it was the greatest thing riding wildly down a dirt road on a motorcycle. In her real life, she would never take such a crazy chance. But there was one thing she thought that made this dangerous and impulsive antic worthwhile. She got to hold John close to her until she could hear his heartbeat and the vibration of his voice through his jacket on her cheek. The time she spent with John was worth all the heartache that would come later.

The Violin is available in Print or ebook at the following locations: http://www.amirapress.com/, amazon.com, Fictionwise.com,Bookstrand.com or go to my website at http://www.sarahmcneal.com/ and click on the buy button which will take you straight to Amira Press.

And here is another cool deal. If you join Amira Press Reader's Group, you get my story, I PROMISE YOU, as a free read. Here is a blurb and excerpt for you.

FREE READ Join the Amira Press Yahoo group (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/amirapress/join) today and get a free read courtesy of Sarah J. McNeal.I Promise You

Gideon thought he had the perfect life as a musician with a beautiful model as his girlfriend, until he was diagnosed with breast cancer.Ashamed and afraid he may die, Gideon hits bottom when his girlfriend dumps him for a real man.Hope comes in the form of his father’s ghost and a person he has just met. Can he beat the odds and survive? And if he does, can he ever find happiness again?

I PROMISE YOU Excerpt
By Sarah J. McNeal
Publisher: Amira Press
Available as a FREE READ

In a nonstop run of chatter in the “it’s all about me” world of Sylvia, she handed him the iced tea remembering, at least, to put a straw in the glass affording him the ability to drink. The tea was bitter without any sugar in it. He didn’t bother to ask for sugar, content to drink anything that would slake his thirst. Leaning his head back against the pillows and closing his eyes, he allowed her never-ending stream of words to wash over him. He didn’t feel much like talking any way being more absorbed in his own thoughts about his surgery, his therapy and his hope for survival.
Accustomed to Sylvia’s self-centered and relentless chatter, Gideon knew it wasn’t necessary to comment on anything she said. Sylvia was shallow but she was very entertaining in her own way and, oh, so stunningly beautiful. Gideon pushed the button in his hand that would bring him relief.
Maybe it was the morphine causing him to slip into some kind of hallucination or maybe he was just dreaming—or wishing. The room appeared filled with white fog so thick that nothing was visible beyond the bed where he lay. A fragrance drifted on the fog almost like a memory of forest, pungent cedar, rich, leaf-covered earth and sun warmed water.
Gideon knew before the form appeared through the fog to stand at the foot of his bed that his father was near. He closed his eyes against the visage yearning for it to be real and knowing it couldn’t be. His parents had died two years ago in a car accident. But, when he blinked his eyes open once again, his dad was still there a slim, tall man wearing waders and a fishing hat over his thick, silver hair. A narrow fringe of white mustache graced his upper lip as he smiled that lopsided way that Gideon remembered so well.
He seemed so real that Gideon felt a lump of suppressed emotions form in his throat and wanted to cry for joy. All he could manage to say in a whisper was, “Pop? Is that you?”
The figure moved closer, sat gently on the side of the bed and took Gideon’s hand. His hand felt warm and solid in Gideon’s grasp. With a voice barely audible, filled with an aching, bitter need to clutch his father to him, Gideon asked, “Did I die? Am I in heaven now?” A tear slid down his cheek, not from sadness at the passing of his life, but with pure, unmitigated joy that his father was with him again.
His father shook his head. “No son. I heard you were in trouble and needed me.” The old man smiled and squeezed his hand the way he’d done a thousand times before. From scraped knees to his first broken heart, his dad had always been there to comfort, love and guide him.
In truth, whether this vision of his dad was real or was brought about by the morphine in his veins, Gideon was glad he was there. Never had he needed his father more than he did right now. “Pop,” Gideon spoke the one watery word like a prayer filled with despair and hope, “Please help me.”
“We’ll get you through this, Gideon.” His father’s image seemed to fade, blending into the chair where he sat.

To get this free read, join our group and email Dahlia at http://us.mc365.mail.yahoo.com/mc/compose?to=VMochaXtasi1029@aol.com.

I'll be chatting with you again soon. Stay tuned.

Sarah McNeal

www.sarahmcneal.com
Author of THE VIOLIN (Amira Press)
THE DARK ISLE (New Concepts Publishing)
LAKE OF SORROWS (New Concepts Publishing)

Good News!

2008-12-02T13:18:00.000-08:00

I'm very pleased to at last be able to share some news I've been sitting on for a while.

I've signed a contract for Reckless Liaisons with Black Lyon. My first full-length novel in over two years has found itself a home, and is tentatively due on the shelves in March, 2009. I am thrilled to be part of the Black Lyon family, amongst some very talented authors.

Right now I'm hard at work on the sequel, A Compromising Evening, as well as preparing for final exams.

I look forward to sharing more details about the book as it comes closer to release.

-K

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

2008-11-26T14:36:00.000-08:00

I hope each and every one of you has a wonderful and satisfying Thanksgiving. We'll be having Turkey and stuffin' muffins at my sister's house. I'm assigned to mashed potatoes and broccoli. Thank goodness for my niece, Betsy--she's bringing some rum and coke along with snacks to consume while we play our traditional board games of "cut throat" Parcheesi and Chinese Checkers. I plan on having a wonderful time.

Kate, my sweet dog, will be going with me. Though it's difficult for her to get in and out of the Forester now, I have a ramp for her and a nice quilt for her to lie on while we're there. I thought you'd like to know that she's hanging in there. I hope she can make it for Christmas but, for now, I'm just glad to have her each day.

I hope for all of you a great Thanksgiving Day!!

Sarah McNeal

www.sarahmcneal.com

Author of The Violin at Amira Press

The Dark Isle at New Concepts Publishing

Lake of Sorrows at New Concepts Publishing

My WIP: Harmonica Joe's Reluctant Bride

Cassie's Sheikh

2008-11-22T01:27:00.000-08:00

Cassie's Sheikh/Linda Sole/Red Rose Publishing

available from http://www.redrosepublishing.com/

http://www.fictionwise.com/

Also at other outlets and soon to be in print.

Cassie's Sheikh has been shortlisted for the Christmas Awards 2009 at

http://www.redrosesforauthors.blogspot.com/

Kasim hates scandal magazines and the people who work for them. What chance does Cassie have to make him see that her father's stables is a ghood place to bring his uncle's thoroughbred horses?

enjoy the excerpt!

"If she's the bitch I imagine she must be, there is no way I shall let my uncle place his horses at her father's stable," Kasim said. "It would be the worst thing he could do."
"But you don't know that," Ben Harrison, his friend, constant companion, and lawyer told him. "She may be a perfectly pleasant woman for all you know."
"A woman who writes for one of those filthy rags?" Kasim's eyes flashed with scorn. His face had the proud, regal lines of his ancestors, the bones angled beneath his olive-toned skin, but his eyes told another story. They were a deep brilliant blue, testimony to his mixed parentage, for he was the son of a desert Sheikh and the beautiful blonde and blue-eyed daughter of an American millionaire.
"Maybe she just does it for a living."
The angles of Kasim's face hardened. "Don't try to make excuses for her, Ben. I've had experience with her kind, remember?"
"Yes, of course I remember," Ben replied. "But you shouldn't jump to conclusions. You were all set for this deal until you found out that Josh's daughter worked for that magazine."
"My uncle thinks it is the best place available," Kasim said. "So I shall keep an open mind, but I want to see what they're like on a normal working day, not when everything is cleaned up for inspection."
"Shall I come with you?"
"Not today." Kasim's face relaxed into an affectionate smile, the angles softened as he looked at the man he trusted more than any other. "If I decide to go any further, we'll keep our appointment tomorrow—but today will be my little surprise."
*****
Cassie rushed out into the hall as she heard the commotion, feeling concerned as she saw everyone gathered about her father. Her mother turned to look at her anxiously.
"Your father thinks his ankle may be broken, Cassie."
"Oh, Dad," Cassie said. "Does it hurt badly?"
"Pretty bad," Josh Livingston said, grimacing. "It may mean I'm stuck in hospital for a few days, and you know who's coming tomorrow, don't you?"
"An important client," Cassie and her mother echoed each other.
Cassie understood what was going through his mind. Josh ran a small but successful racing stable in Newmarket, but the owner who had kept a string of horses with them for the past several years was about to retire from the business.
"Maybe they will let you out, Josh," Helen Livingston said, without really believing it. "You may not have to stay in hospital."
"But what if I do? Who is going to explain the way we work here to our visitor? Joe is great with the horses, but he hates getting involved with owners. It's the reason he doesn't work for himself."
"I suppose I could try…" Helen said doubtfully. "If you helped me, Cassie?"
Cassie hesitated for a moment. She was meant to be back in London the next day, and they had a magazine to get out—but she was due a few days leave and she could email her stuff through to the office.
"Yes, of course. If Dad thinks I'm up to it?" She grinned, tossing back her long pale hair, her greenish-blue eyes sparking with mischief. "You know I'm a walking minefield, Dad—dare you risk it?"
"It looks as if I may have to. This ankle is pretty awful, Cas. Try not to say or do anything daft when Mr. Ahmed comes, won't you?"
"You mean like calling him the Sheikh of Araby and wearing my harem costume?"
"Cassie!" her mother cried, horrified. "Please don't joke about this, darling. Your father has enough to worry him."
"It's all right, Cas doesn't mean it. I know you'll both do your best, but you're too like me, Cas—you'll probably fall flat on your backside just as you go to shake his hand," her father said.
"Shake the Sheikh's hand," Cassie said irrepressibly. "I think I could make up a little song about that…"
"Please spare me," her father begged. "That sounds like the ambulance outside, love." He looked at his wife. "I think I shall need a chair."
"Yes, of course. Stay where you are, Josh."
As his wife hurried out, he looked at his daughter. "You know your mother hates horses, Cas, always has. She can't bear to go near them. I sometimes wonder how she has managed to live with me all this time."
"Because she adores you," Cassie said and smiled at him affectionately. "And because you treat her as if she were special, Dad. Not many women are lucky enough to find a man like that, and Mum knows a good thing when she sees it."
"Bless you, love. I'm relying on you to charm Mr. Ahmed, Cas. He can be a pleasant chap, but they say he is hard to please when it comes to business and we need his horses. Tell him that we shall be able to devote ourselves to his string by next month, and that we are very stringent about security, also discreet—that is important to him. He hates newspapers and magazines…"
"Pity about that," Cassie said. "I might have gained Brownie points with Maggie if I'd been able to get an interview for our rag."
"Mr. Ahmed wouldn't be seen dead in your rag," her father said. "Whatever you do, don't tell him you work for Stars & Their Lives or he will be gone so fast we shan't see the dust."
"I was only teasing, Dad," Cassie said, and for once her famous grin was missing. "I do know how much this means to you, and I promise I shall do my best to pull it off for you. I won't breathe a word about the magazine, and I shall tell him what a wonderful trainer you are. Not that I have to with your record. You had six winners last year and that surely speaks for itself."
"I haven't won a Classic for three years," her father said with a grimace. "That could all change with Mr. Ahmed's string—if he placed them with us."
"Yes, I know." Cassie looked at him curiously. "Why doesn't he like to be addressed by his title?"
"He is a very private man. He never allows photographs, and is furious if the press catches him anywhere but at a race meeting. He can't prevent that, of course, nor being addressed as Sheikh Ali bin Ahmed in public, but he prefers to keep a low profile in private."
"He's extremely rich, isn't he?"
"One of the richest of them all. The thing is that he…" Josh broke off as two ambulance men came in carrying a chair.
Cassie watched as her father was helped into the chair by the paramedics and taken outside, followed by his wife. Helen Livingston cast an agonized glance at her daughter as she left.
"You can manage, can't you, love? I may be with your father for the rest of the day. There are a few letters that need typing. You will find them on the desk in the office."
"Yes, of course," Cassie said. "Don't worry about anything here. I'll be all right until you come home, I promise."
And that was quite a promise, Cassie acknowledged after her parents had left in the ambulance. She had columns to write for the magazine, those letters for her father, and a routine tour of the yard, just to make sure she knew anything she ought to know before the arrival of the Sheikh of Araby the next day. A little giggle escaped her as she pictured him, looking much like Rudolph Valentino, the star of the silver screen in the twenties.
"That's enough of that, Cassandra," she told herself severely. She had no idea what Mr. Ahmed looked like. He could be thin and dashingly handsome or fat, boring, and ugly. And that wasn't important either. He was her father's one hope of keeping the stable going, because without him Josh would probably have to sell everything and that would break her father's heart. He had put so many years into this business.
A determined look came over Cassie's face. If she had anything to do with it, Mr. Ahmed was going to run straight to his lawyers and sign the contract even if she had to—what? Oh no, there were limits, she decided. She'd heard about some of these rich playboys, and the one thing she wasn't about to do was fall into bed with him!
But if Mr. Ahmed was the private businessman he claimed to be, he probably wouldn't be interested in her as a woman. Why should he? Cassie glanced at herself in the mirror and giggled. She wasn't exactly Miss Glamourpants, was she? Wearing her oldest jeans, a faded sweatshirt, her hair decidedly in need of a wash, she wouldn't exactly drive any man to madness with lust for her. That wasn't important. Tomorrow she would be wearing smart jodhpurs, her best riding boots, and her hair would be gleaming. But for the moment she had too much to do to worry about what she looked like!
She walked into her father's office and switched on his laptop. She was just about to insert a disc with the details of the articles she had prepared for The Stars & Their Lives when she heard a loud crunching sound and a car come to a screeching halt in the gravel outside her window. Now who on earth is that? she wondered, getting up to investigate. The car was a very expensive Mercedes sports model in metallic silver with a black leather interior, and the hood had been rolled back, which made it appear even racier.
Oh, no, it couldn't be! Cassie's heart sank as the man got out of the car, standing there in the sunshine for a moment. He was tall but not too tall, strong-looking with powerful shoulders and an air of assurance that made Cassie's heart plummet all the way down to her white, wedge mules. It had to be Mr. Ahmed! He was turning towards her now and her breath caught as she saw that he was better looking than any Sheikh she had seen in old movies on the TV screen. His hair was jet black with a bluish tinge in the sunlight and his eyes—were hidden behind his designer shades. His suit shouted Saville Row at her, his shoes obviously handmade and expensive.
What the hell was he doing here today? She felt like exploding as she glanced down at herself. She looked like something the cat had dragged in and felt worse. Oh, why couldn't he have kept to his appointment as arranged? There was no help for it, Cassie realized. She had to meet him as she was and grovel.
She went swiftly through to the front door, opening it seconds before he could ring the bell. He removed his glasses and looked at her, his eyes going over her slowly in a measured way that made her want to die. This man was used to having the best of everything—and no doubt that included women!—what must be going through his mind? He must think her a poor specimen.
Hang on a minute! Those eyes were blue, bright, clear and devastating. She had always thought men from the Middle Eastern countries had dark eyes—but his were startling. And she was staring like an idiot!
"I am so sorry," she said, offering her hand and smiling. "We weren't expecting you until tomorrow, sir. I'm afraid I'm not properly dressed for showing you round the yard, but I can find a pair of Wellington boots and then I'll be with you."
"And you are?" he asked, his brows rising. He did not immediately take the hand she offered, and she let it drop, feeling rejected. His voice had the quality of cut glass and Cassie shivered, her knees suddenly feeling as if they had the consistency of jelly. He was clearly a man of authority, and none too pleased by being met by someone who looked as if she'd been pulled backwards through a hedge. "I was expecting to meet Mr. Joshua Livingston—the owner of this stable I understand?"
"My father, yes, of course, sir," Cassie said, but her head went up and she refused to be cut down by the slash of his tone. His manner was sending shivers along the entire length of her spine, but she wasn't going to fail at the first fence. "Unfortunately, he had an accident this morning and had to go to hospital. Actually, there must have been some mix-up, Mr. Ahmed. I am so sorry to seem at a loss, but we weren't expecting you until tomorrow."
"So, you are Miss Livingston?" he said and appeared to be considering, his eyes surveying her with a calculating coldness. "And you are offering yourself in your father's place?"
"It might seem a poor substitute," Cassie admitted. "I'm not a trainer, but I've been around horses all my life and I love them. I don't have my father's expert knowledge, but I know a great deal about the way he runs the stable—and his head groom, Joe Green, will be glad to tell you anything that I can't, sir."
"Mr. Ahmed will do," he said, and his mouth relaxed slightly. She thought he might have been laughing at her, and for a moment her heart did a giddy somersault, but he had replaced his glasses and it was impossible to tell. "Do you think you could find those boots, Miss Livingston? I shall be calling on you officially tomorrow, but I decided to drive myself down early and take a quick look round this morning. I like to see things as they are, not specially tidied up for my benefit."

Books in Print

2008-11-14T01:07:00.000-08:00

I have just checked the print proofs for Chateau Despair, Cassie's Sheikh and A Kind of Loving for Red Rose Publishing. When I sent these books to be published in ebook format I never expected that they would all go into print too. While it was very satisfying to see books I love go into ebook format and I do very much like the flexability of this format there is nothing like print copies you can hold in your hand. I hope to buying quite a few of these to pop in Christmas stockings for friends and relatives who would never read an ebook and therefore miss out on mine.

I have been working very hard on my lates saga recently and have now reached the first print out, which is the end of the first stage for me. I sent in a new Melford Dynasty to HMB a few weeks back and have signed a five book contract. I seem to get translations of my HMB books most weeks and this is a source of great pleasure for me. Writing is rewarding in itself but it is lovely to know that your books are being published worldwide!

I wanted to hint at a big competition on Red Rose Publishing's blog and a Christmas party on the group. I can't say anymore yet but this is just a taster. Love to you all, Linda

My Kate

2008-11-12T12:03:00.000-08:00

MY KATE

I thought when Grandfather Tree died that something shifted, like a shadow fell over my house. I know this is probably just kinda strange but I knew somehow more trouble was on the way. And so it has. My Golden Retriever, Kate, who has been with me through thick and thin, has cancer of the bone and only weeks to live. There is nothing I can do to save her. I am keeping her comfortable at present on meds but that won't last and I dread the final outcome. How will my life be without my Kate? This has been a year of mixed emotions. It was wonderful when my book THE VIOLIN was released but the loss of my friend, Joyce, Grandfather Tree and now this devastating news about my best buddy, Kate, has left me exhausted emotionally. It is my earnest prayer that the new year will bring with it a sense of happiness and hope.

In the meantime, I will spend whatever time I have left with Kate just loving her and try to let her go without allowing her to suffer for my sake.

All good things to your corner of the universe.

Sarah McNeal

http://www.sarahmcneal.com/

Author of

THE VIOLIN at Amira Press

THE DARK ISLE at New Concepts Publishing

LAKE OF SORROWS at New Concepts Publishing

New Contract...

2008-11-06T18:57:00.000-08:00

Well I'm doing the happy dance! I just signed a new contract with Eternal Press for my gay romance Homecoming! Squeeee! As most of you know that have been following along here, I had submitted the manuscript in July and was waiting to hear back from them, and I finally did hear back last week. I am very impressed with their professionalism. Anywho, I don't have a release date yet, but I will be sure and post it here when I do have one. For the time being here is the blurb for Homecoming:

After five years Crew has returned to his home planet of Mara hoping to reunite with his bondmate Eagle. Not knowing what Eagle’s reaction to his return is going to be, Crew is very nervous. When Eagle comes to him first he must decide if Eagle truly loves him or if he is out for revenge.

New Regency Release - Unspeakable

2008-11-06T07:38:00.000-08:00

Now Available from Red Rose Publishing!

UNSPEAKABLE
Kayleigh Jamison

Erotic Romance: Regency, Historical/Period
ISBN: 978-1-60435-262-7
Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett
Editor: WRFG
Word Count: 12,830
Release Date: November 06, 2008

Trevor Caufield has always prided himself on being a consummate rake...until a clandestine meeting with a mysterious, strangely silent woman in a darkened hallway. Setting out to pursue Emma Hatton with purely selfish intentions, he discovers emotions that transcend his formerly uncomplicated existence and teach him that true love has no need for words.

Excerpt

“Ah, silence,” he muttered, rounding a corner and slipped deeper into the house. His steps were unhurried, and the leisurely pace saved him from walking straight into the petite form that blocked his path just after the turn.

The woman stared at him with wide, doe—eyes. She was radiantly beautiful in the dimly lit corridor, the rays of moonlight illuminating the golden tresses of her hair, which spilled over her shoulders in rich, enticing waves. She didn't have the look of a servant girl; her dress, though out—of—date, was far too elegant. Her pixie—like face was soft but refined, with a small, button nose and full, pouty lips that made him, without thinking, lick his own in anticipation. Her eyebrows, the same golden blonde as her hair, were fine and sculpted, arching over eyes that, even in the dim light, he saw were a sparkling, crystalline blue.

“My apologies, Madame, I didn't intend to frighten you,” Trevor soothed, recovering from his momentary shock and offering her a charming half—smile. Where have you been hiding? he wanted to ask instead.

Her eyes widened another fraction, but she said nothing.

“Truly, I thought myself alone,” he continued and flashed another smile. “Had I known I would encounter such an enchanting gem hidden away in this dark hall, I would have brought two glasses.” He lifted the champagne flute to his lips, watching her carefully over the rim.

Still no response from her. Were it not for the slight tremble of her lower lip, Trevor would have begun to wonder if she was a statue – or perhaps a life—sized doll. Yes, she resembled the dolls his little sister had played with as a child, her skin smooth and pale as porcelain, eyelashes almost freakishly long, fanning against the ridge of her eyebrows.

“Am I such a terrifying sight?”

More maddening silence.

He changed tactics. Trevor reached for her hand, half expecting her to jump backwards out of his reach. She didn't, and allowed him to grasp her fingers lightly, giving them a squeeze. Her skin was soft and silky, and he felt a jolt of warmth at the contact. “Are you ill, Madame? Hurt?”

She shook her head just the slightest bit – a minute gesture, the shimmer it stirred amongst her flaxen curls the only indication that she'd moved at all. Her hand remained limp in his much larger palm.

“Damnit, woman, say something, would you? Anything,” he exclaimed.

She shook her head again, this time with more force, and gave his hand a squeeze. Rather than pulling out of his grip, as he expected her to do, she allowed her hand to stay where it was, giving a second squeeze with her fingers.

“Well, good. We've established you're real, and I'm real,” Trevor said. “Now, I really must insist that you…” That she what, Caufield? Exactly what is it you want her to do?

A rustling from around the corner caused him to abandon his thought process. His companion stiffened, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. Before he could stop her she'd pulled her hand free and was running down the hallway.

“Wait!” Trevor called. “At least allow me your name!”

She paused long enough to cast a final, mournful glance over her shoulder, and then disappeared into the shadows.

$1.99

THE VIOLIN ISBN# 978-1-934475-22-5

2008-10-30T17:24:00.000-07:00

THE VIOLIN
by Sarah J. McNeal
Publisher: Amira Press
Available in Print and ebook at www.amirapress.com, Amazon.com,Fictionwise.com and Bookstrands.com or from my website at www.saramcneal.com
Okay, this is really Keanu Reeves but, in this picture, he is exactly like John Douglas in this excerpt from THE VIOLIN. I can just imagine him on his Indian motorcycle speeding down the dirt road from Numidia to Sunbury with Genevieve clinging to him in a death grip. I hope you enjoy this excerpt.
Sarah J. McNeal

BLURB:

Genevieve has dreamed about him all her life, but it isn’t until she buys his violin and finds the remnants of his life and the mystery of his death in 1927 within its case, that she makes a decision that will change her life forever. Is there a way to change the past and save the man who haunts her heart?

EXCERPT:

The couple was left alone in the living room. John’s hands seemed to burn into Genevieve’s. She wanted him to stay with her like this forever. Her heart ached a little and she wasn’t sure why. “Are you really okay? She asked.
“Hell no, I’m not okay. I’m never okay around you.” He smiled charmingly. “Now that you’ve turned into a goddess with the help of my mother, I’m not sure I will ever be okay again,” he said and grinned.
Genevieve jerked her hands out of his grasp. “I don’t think your jokes are all that funny. You scared the life out of me,” she said angrily.
He reached around her and pulled his jacket from the back of the couch. “Come on, Genevieve, let’s get going.” He took her hand back in his firm grip and pulled her along behind him out the front door, off the little porch and across the yard to his motorcycle.
Genevieve skidded to a halt. “I’m not going to ride on that thing.” She felt the knot in her stomach form just looking at the motorcycle. What a dangerous piece of machinery it was.
“Yes you are,” John said determinedly.
“No I’m not.” Genevieve was obstinately determined that she was most certainly not going to get on that death machine. “I could get killed on that thing.” She looked at the Indian motorcycle as if it were a dragon seeking its next meal.
From the back yard came a miniature explosion. Matilda’s little shriek cut the air followed by the laughter of Will and Jimmy. John glanced at Genevieve and laughed lightly. “Well, looks like that cannon you bought Jimmy has gone over big.”
She scrunched her face into a frown not listening to a word he said. “I’m not going to ride on that thing, John.”
John turned to her and spoke in a low voice as if explaining something to a child. “Listen, honey, Sunbury is ten miles or more down the road. You couldn’t even walk the first two miles before those blisters would start to hurt again.”
He guided her slowly over to the motorcycle. “Now see, I have this wonderful wheeled horse just to take milady conveniently and, without walking on sore feet I might add, to a wonderful restaurant I know in Sunbury.”
He turned her around to face him. “Now we can stand here and argue all our time away on how we’re going to get there but, in the end little miss goddess of mine, you are going to get on this motorcycle if I have to drag you on it and tie you to me.” There was absolute resolution in his voice.
Genevieve knew she couldn’t win. John had to be the most stubborn person on the face of the earth. “Okay,” she relented barely audible, “I’ll do it but I want you to know I’m really scared. You better not get us killed.”
John threw a leg over the saddle of the bike and drew her on to the back where she sat with her legs tucked behind his. He laughed a little. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m not going to kill us, not on purpose any way.”
“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Genevieve snapped back sarcastically. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She wasn’t sure which bothered her more, riding on the motorcycle or John’s back pressed against her chest and her legs snugly folded next to his.
John reached back, took her hands, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “All you have to do is hang on tight and lean the way I lean. Got that?”
Genevieve was shaking too much to answer so she nodded her head even though she was sure he wasn’t really waiting for her permission. Her stomach clenched with anxiety and fear made her hands tremble.
John kicked the starter with his left heel and the engine sputtered into life. It sounded like a chain saw.
Genevieve hugged John’s waist in a death grip and laid her face against his back as he drew on his goggles over his eyes. “Genevieve,” he yelled over the roar of the engine, “I have to be able to breathe, honey, not that I don’t love you holding me that tight.” He laughed and the motorcycle lunged forward onto the dirt road.
Genevieve watched as John squeezed the clutch with his left hand and reached down to change the gear with his right hand on the stick gear in front of him.
“Aren’t we supposed to have on helmets? There’s a law about that,” Genevieve yelled into his back. She felt the rumble of his laughter on her cheek.
“I don’t think they have a law about that. We’re not going into battle; we’re just taking a ride.” He laughed out loud. “You might want to keep your mouth shut before a bug flies in it,” he shouted and laughed again.
The engine whined a few seconds as John changed gears again. The machine hummed as they scattered rocks and dirt in their wake down the country road. The wind blew through his hair and Genevieve’s braid flopped heavily in the wind the bike created.
“I never saw a motorcycle with a stick shift on the body before,” Genevieve called out over the roar of the engine. “Isn’t there some kind of shift thingy on the handlebar?”
“That’s a mighty interesting question seeing how there is no other motorcycle anywhere. Indian is all there is and this is where the gears are.” John was silent a moment than added, “But now that I think about it, it would sure be more convenient if the ‘thingy’ was on the handlebar.”
Genevieve was beginning to loosen her grip a little as she began to grow calm. A little burn of fear still scorched her stomach though. “Does this thing have brakes?” she called out the question.
“You’ll be glad to know there’s two. I got one in my right hand and the other is located here under my right foot. You couldn’t be any safer.” He spoke loudly making his voice rise above the engine noise. “Isn’t this the greatest?” He was obviously enjoying himself.
Genevieve wasn’t so sure it was the greatest thing riding wildly down a dirt road on a motorcycle. In her real life, she would never take such a crazy chance. But there was one thing she thought that made this dangerous and impulsive antic worthwhile. She got to hold John close to her until she could hear his heartbeat and the vibration of his voice through his jacket on her cheek. The time she spent with John was worth all the heartache that would come later.

Excerpt Song of The Mountains

2008-10-21T00:56:00.000-07:00

Song Of The Mountains/Anne Ireland

Coming From Eternal Press in November

They were swimming towards her, racing each other and calling out excitedly in the way young men will, reminding Morwenna of her young brothers who sometimes swam in the lake near her home at Bala. As they came nearer, she saw their shoulders were naked and realised they must have removed much of their clothing before plunging into the water. One of them had reached the bank a short distance from where she was sitting. He had not seen her because of the reed bed that partially obscured her and them.
She had a clear view of the man, who hauled himself from the river and stood shaking his long hair like a hound, the droplets sparkling in the sunshine as they flew around him. He was completely naked. His strong, muscled body open to her curious gaze as he stood laughing at his friend, clearly unashamed of his unclothed state and pleased to have won his race.
He was beautiful! Morwenna drank in the sight of his power and grace. The colour of his skin seeming to indicate this was not the first time it had been exposed to the elements, gleaming wetly like pale copper in the sun’s rays.

Chapter One
Morwenna 1399
The sun had risen over the Black Mountains these three hours or more, sweeping through the valley, reaching the gloomy old manor house built of stone into the ridge at the far end, but scarcely penetrating its thick walls.
The house was always cold, had been cold ever since she was brought here as a bride, Maire, Lady of Gruffudd thought, shivering and pulling her shawl about her shoulders.
She was thin and beginning to stoop a little, though she had not yet passed her thirty-fourth summer. She had been fourteen when she was wed to Dafydd Gruffudd, fifteen when her son was born–the only son to survive though she had borne three more and a daughter, all dying in infancy. In the end, her husband had named her a barren cow and sought his pleasures elsewhere.
Walking into her son’s bedchamber, Maire’s nose wrinkled in disgust. The stench of sweat, stale urine, and ale made the air thick in this tiny cell, which was separated from the Great Hall by a curtain of leather. She looked down at the man snoring on his straw pallet for a moment, before taking the pitcher she had brought with her and dashing icy water into his face.
The effect was instantaneous. He spluttered and jerked, starting up with an oath as his hand went instinctively to the sword lying on the floor by his side. Anger sparked in the bright blue eyes as he saw the reason for his rude awakening.
"In God’s name, Mother! Why did you do that?"
"The day is wasting while you snore abed, Morgan Gruffudd. ‘Tis time you rose. Besides, there’s a messenger come from Owain Glyn Dwr himself. Will you show discourtesy to Owain?"
"Owain has sent a messenger to me?" The expression in Morgan’s eyes was suddenly wary, suspicious. "Why should he bother after all this time?"
They had expected to hear something from Maire’s kinsman after the death of Dafydd Gruffudd. The two men had not been exactly enemies, but it was accepted within the family that they had had no love for each other. Had it been otherwise, Morgan might have been sent into the lord of Glyndyfrdwy’s service long ago. He was now almost nineteen years of age, and apart from trips into the mountains and forests that bounded his home. To his mother’s knowledge, he had never been further than Tintern Abbey, Chepstow, or to the Eisteddfod with his father. They had both hoped for a summons after Dafydd died, but the word had not come in two long years. Two years, Morgan had subsequently spent drinking, fighting, and whoring in the neighbouring valleys with his friends.
"How should I know why he sends his messenger?" Maire asked, though she was well aware that Owain Glyn Dwr’s man had come in response to her plea for help. She had despaired of her son, known throughout the lordship of the Brecon as Morgan the Rogue, realising that she had no hope of curbing his wild ways. The small manor was falling into ruin through neglect. Morgan promised always to do whatever she asked the next day and did nothing. If, as she hoped, her kinsman had exercised his rights to take Morgan into his service, the care of the manor would be left in Maire’s capable hands. The land in this southern valley was fertile and sweet; left to her management it would yield a good living for Maire and her dependants. "I suggest you make yourself decent and discover his purpose for yourself."
Morgan had risen from his bed. Despite his indolence of late he was a fine figure of a man, over six feet in height and broad in the shoulder with strong, muscled thighs and a mane of dark hair about his face, his chin dark for want of a shave this past week. A week that Maire suspected he had spent in the bed of some whore.
"If Glyn Dwr has sent a messenger to me I’d best not keep him waiting."
"You’ll not go like that!" Maire pulled a face. "He’ll think you a barbarian!"
"Would you have me dress like an English jay, Mother?" Morgan scowled at her. "You must know that ‘tis said across the border, all Welshmen are barbarians. Why should I be different?"
"You could at least put on a clean tunic and hose."
Maire shook her head as Morgan ignored her and walked into the hall, scratching beneath his armpits. Her son’s habits did not come from her, for she was a clean, industrious woman and had done her best to raise Morgan as a good Christian. There were many in the valleys to listen to the bards sing of the old mythology, but Maire was not one of them.

My latest ebook!

2008-10-21T00:50:00.000-07:00

Next month Eternal Press are bringing out a big Medieval story of mine. Song of The Mountains is a powerful story of love, hate, revenge and betrayal. Set against the struggle between the last Welsh Prince of Wales and the English, it tells the story of Morgan, a brave man who makes a mistake and has to pay for it over a number of years. I am posting the cover now and will come back with an excerpt.

Some Fun Stuff This Week

2008-10-20T11:25:00.000-07:00

Well, there's a lot going on this week. Amira Press is having a Spooktacular event that will be taking place all week long. There are free reads you can choose from just for signing up. Mine is The Curse of the Amber Tomb about an archiologist whose ambition blinds her to all else, a handsome photographer who was once a part of a family circus act that went bad and a couple of vampires. There's a sexy scene and some intense thrills to be had--for FREE!

Also they are giving away free baskets of wonderful goodies to 2 lucky people during the events. Check out the fun at http://www.amirapress.com Go to the pumpkin at the top of the Amira Press home page and click onto it to get in on the fun. Can't wait to see you there.

Sarah McNeal

http://www.sarahmcneal.com/

Author of

THE VIOLIN at Amira Press in print and ebook

THE DARK ISLE at New Concepts Publishing

LAKE OF SORROWS at New Concepts Publishing

THE CURSE OF THE AMBER TOMB free read at Amira Press

My Destiny's Choices Squidoo Lens...

2008-10-20T00:25:00.000-07:00

Yup, I've decided to join the ranks of those who squidoo! I had a little time about a month ago and decided to see what all the hallaboo about making lens was. Well I found out, it's because it's fun! I really enjoyed making mine and I suspect I will be making more before too long, the darned stuff is downright addictive! Anyway, the neat thing about making a lens, was that I made it for my book Destiny's Choices, which allowed me to put some really cool exerpts, my book trailer and all sorts of goodies all in the same place. So, if you want a one stop shop about my book, this is the place to go! So be sure and go check out my Destiny's Choices Squidoo Lens when you have a minute, you won't be sorry. :-)

Free Romance Fiction Questions Answered...

2008-10-12T18:34:00.000-07:00

The other day I was surfing the net looking for links to a new website I'm helping with and I discovered what I felt were some valid questions by authors regarding the website. I wanted to address some of those questions here on the Moonlight Romance Authors Blog to hopefully clear up any misunderstandings regarding it.

1. One complaint was that there was no About Us page and that made the visitor feel as though the site was not legitimate. Okay yes, there is not an About Us page, however that does not mean it is not legitimate. In order to lay that question to rest, here is the answer to it, Free Romance Fiction is the brainchild of myself (Regina Paul) and another friend who writes romance Patricia Richardson. We are both published romance authors and wanted to find a way to help get the word out about our books as well as accomplish two other goals: help other authors get the word out about their books, and help readers find new authors to read, as well as the occasional free story by their favorite author.

2. There was another comment that there was "advertising on the first page." The only advertising on the front page are my and Pat's covers of our latest releases and jj Keller and Linda Sole's covers for theirs because they very kindly provided a free story for readers and I wanted to repay them for doing so with a month of free premium advertising.

Unlike some websites that fill their free space up with Google Adsense ads that make it difficult to even read the content there especially when they put it in between the paragraphs of the story you are trying to read, we decided to provide an advertising opportunity to authors. Whatever revenue, if any that is generated from the ads goes to the upkeep of the website that is all. And the rates are lower than even many of the review websites which offer the same thing to authors. Since we are just beginning we didn't think it was fair to charge an arm and a leg, and also, it's not for the purpose of "getting rich" as many people use Adsense for, but simply for upkeep of the site.

We do have some of the submission information on the front page but that is because we are trying to reach authors and wanted to show some of the advantages to submitting right on the front page. The cover links are in the different sections depending on what genre the story fits into, when you click on the link it takes you to the PDF of the story. These aren't on the front page because we wanted to put stories in their particular genre giving visitors a chance to go and check out different kinds of free stories. I hope that explains why we don't just have a jumble of coverlinks on the front page.

3. Another point made was done in the form of a question: Why should I as an author submit a story to your website when I can just do it myself and PDF it and add it to my blog? This is a very good question, and of course you certainly can do that. The advantages we think are that when you post a piece of romance fiction to Free Romance Fiction.com you are helping not only yourself (you get a free month of premium advertising if you submit a story by midnight October 31, 2008, and a banner that points to the page with the coverlink to your PDF'd story), but giving readers a chance to check out your writing, and hopefully go and buy your currently published books. After all that is the main advantage and hope to offering a free story, to get readers to buy your books. Another advantage could be the opportunity to network with other published authors as well, if you so choose.

I hope posting these here helps to lay to rest any questions authors or organizations that work with and for authors have. Please don't hesitate to contact me personally via either tiwatz@yahoo.com or submissionsfreeromancefiction@yahoo.comthe main e-mail for freeromancefiction.com. I will be more than happy to answer any other questions or concerns any author or organization that works with authors has and I hope if you have you'll contact me.

Update for Free Romance Fiction....

2008-10-05T22:46:00.000-07:00

Free Romance Fiction has decided to extend the deadline for submissions, well we'll take submissions anytime from published romance authors, but if you want to get in on a month of free premium advertising then we've extended that deadline to midnight October 31, 2008. So if you thought you missed out on it, there is still time. We have also moved down our grand opening to November 1, 2008 so as to give all of us more time to get more stories up for the grand opening.

If you are a romance author and have heard about Free Romance Fiction, please do help us to pass the word! You can check out our guidelines here. This is a really good opportunity to get some premium advertising at no cost to you except for a little of your writing time if you don't have a short story already done that fits the guidelines that you can submit.

New stories at Free Romance Fiction.com

2008-09-20T16:37:00.000-07:00

I'm excited to announce we have our first free stories at Free Romance Fiction! Squeeee! Okay, yeah I'm probably more than excited. LOL Best-selling author Linda Sole, (yes our very own Linda here on the blog) very kindly submitted a historical short to our site, and it's very, very good! We also have an offering from prolific romance writer, jj Keller that is a paranormal romance.

Both stories are high quality, very enjoyable reads that it is definitely worth your time to check out. Plus the stories are available in PDF format rather than on a web page where it has to compete with ads as on many other free romance story websites.

So be sure and check out Linda's story Yo, Ho, Ho, and a Bottle of Rum.

and jj Keller's story A Haunting Song.

I can guarantee you won't be sorry! :-)

Love Is Not Enough

2008-09-14T09:59:00.000-07:00

I always seem to be late with my posts these days but I don't think anyone will be posting today. A month or so ago I received my copies of the audio of Love Is Not Enough/Linda Sole/Severn House. At first I couldn't find it on the web and amazon didn't have it. Now they do but are saying it is already out of print or temporarily out of stock. I am not sure whethere to be pleased that it has sold out so quickly or disappointed that not enough were pressed. I would have liked to buy an extra copy.

The second book in the series seems to be selling in print, only one left on amazon.com. This is also coming out in audio, perhaps they will print a few more copies of the CD this time. The third book Forbidden Love is out in December in the UK an March 2009 USA. Fingers crossed that will get done in audio as well!

I have just finished a book this morning. I just have to print and check through for mistakes and then I am going to have a holiday. LOL Linda

Remembering 9/11

2008-09-11T04:35:00.000-07:00

Remembering 9/11

So much has happened since that awful day, September 11, 2001 that I sometimes forget what it was like that day. I was at work in the ER as the news came to us that first one tower and then the other had been hit by airplanes. We heard that the Pentagon had been hit and then a plane had gone down in a field in Pennsylvania. We were on lock down. No one could leave. I called my family and I prayed. Was this it? Was this the end? We comforted one another and wondered what would happened next.

I remember images of the towers collapsing, people running and weeping, firemen, policeman and emergency personnel searching and hoping to find someone alive. Most poignant to me was the members of congress standing on the steps of the Capital Building spontaneously singing America The Beautiful and a senator weeping during the memorial service.

Now I remember it all and I pray that some day we can feel secure and that peace will come again.

Sarah McNeal

www.sarahmcneal.com

Two More Days Until Do Or Die Releases!!!

2008-09-10T06:09:00.000-07:00

Hey Everyone!
I'm excited to announce that Do Or Die will be available in ebook format from The Wild Rose Press in just two days!!! I had such a blast writing Do Or Die as it is non stop action from beginning to end. If you like adventure stories with a big dash of romance this one will cater to your tastes. It's also a futuristic so if you're a fan of Sci-Fi Do Or Die will also be right up your alley. I hope it appeals to a wide range of readers for various reasons.

If you recognize the heroine's name, Shylah, you might be remembering it from reading my author bio. Our one Yorkshire Terrier was named for the Shylah in Do or Die, and I think her spunky tenacious attitude mirrors the Shylah McKay in Do Or Die to a pretty perfect 'T'.

Do Or Die will be available in Paperback on October 10, 2008 from Amazon and B&N!!!! The awesome cover was designed by Rae Monet! Thank you again, Rae!
Here's the blurb:

Do Or Die By Marly Mathews

Futuristic Paranormal Romance
The world has changed. Ten years ago, Earth nearly crumbled beneath the might of an intergalactic War. Their Enemy fought them with their destructive psychokinetic powers. Only a band of extraordinary humans stood in their path. They were known as the Gemini Order. Led by Shylah McKay, they saved Earth from ruination.

Now, Shylah McKay and her kind are being persecuted for the very talents that saved Earth. But Shylah's a mover and a shaker, and with her lover Grayson by her side, she'll go to the ends of the Earth and beyond to fight for her people.

Here's an excerpt from Do Or Die to give you a sneak peek!

Grayson stared at the woman. Didn’t she know
who he was? What he was?
The woman intrigued him. Sparks had flown
between them. She was definitely special—she
looked at him as if he were her savior.
He had to help her. He knew that in an instant.
His eyes locked on hers again. He was in love.
One look—that was it. He glanced at the insignia on
her yellow uniform. She was part of the much-
revered Gemini Order. She had to be one hell of a
powerful woman.
He knelt beside her. For some reason he could
touch her...he didn’t understand that. They had to
be bonded in some way. It could only be a
supernatural bond.
Predestined.
“I’m going to touch you again, Captain.”
“Call me, Shylah. Just, Shylah.”
His heartbeat quickened. Her voice was heaven.
Willing all of his energy to him, he leaned down and
gathered her in his arms. He stood up, cradling her
against his chest.
“Shylah.” Her name rolled off his tongue like
music. His voice was a caress and she relaxed.
“Take me, here.” She pressed her hand against
his chest, and a sudden image entered his mind.
She was a telepath.
He’d known the members of The Gemini Order
were skilled, but not all were telepaths.
He nodded his head. “Your wish is my
command.” He took to the sky. It was a miracle he
had found her. She could be his salvation.
“I feel as if we’ve met before.” She tilted her
head toward him, and he drank in the beauty of her
stunning eyes. They seemed to engulf her entire
face. “You feel familiar.” He sighed. He would never
get enough of listening to her voice.

Available September 12, 2008 from The Wild Rose Press!

~Marly

THE VIOLIN

2008-09-09T18:08:00.000-07:00

THE VIOLIN

by Sarah J. McNeal

Available in print or ebook at www.amirapress.com , fictionwise , amazon.com and through my website at www.sarahmcneal.com

Blurb:

THE VIOLIN by Sarah J. McNeal (Blurb)

Genevieve has dreamed about him all her life, but it isn’t until she buys his violin and finds the remnants of his life and the mystery of his death within its case, that she makes a decision that will change her life forever. Is there a way to change the past and save the man who haunts her heart?

Excerpt:

THE VIOLIN at Amira Press by Sarah McNeal

John bent forward and kissed her on the cheek. He spoke to her in a low voice as his deep, green eyes looked into hers. “I thought you were a goddess. You fairly took my breath away.”
He laughed as he stood up taking her with him as he took both her hands in his. “Forgive me for seeming rude but your beauty rendered me completely speechless for a few moments.”
“Why don’t the two of you stay here for supper tonight instead of going out?” Matilda suggested. Her voice still had an edge to it.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Will added.
Jimmy laughed as he danced around the couple standing in the living room holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes. “He was just funning, Pop, that’s all,” Jimmy said.
“John, I think ...,” Will started to speak.
“Pop, please, you’re scaring Genevieve,” John said and gave his father a warning look.
Will scrutinized John for a moment as emotions scattered in a riot across his face. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded his head to give consent. “You're a grown man, John. You will do what you want regardless of what I think. As your father, I only ask that you use discretion when entrusted with another's well being and care for yourself for those who value you.” He looked down at Jimmy and smiled. “Come with me outside and I’ll let you look at my pipe while we test out your cannon.”
“Will,” Matilda cried following the man and the boy out through the kitchen, “Don’t you dare show that boy that pipe.”
The couple was left alone in the living room. John’s hands seemed to burn into Genevieve’s. She wanted him to stay with her like this forever. Her heart ached a little and she wasn’t sure why. “Are you really okay? She asked.
“Hell no, I’m not okay. I’m never okay around you.” He smiled charmingly. “Now that you’ve turned into a goddess with the help of my mother, I’m not sure I will ever be okay again,” he said and grinned.
Genevieve jerked her hands out of his grasp. “I don’t think your jokes are all that funny. You scared the life out of me,” she said angrily.
He reached around her and pulled his jacket from the back of the couch. “Come on, Genevieve, let’s get going.” He took her hand back in his firm grip and pulled her along behind him out the front door, off the little porch and across the yard to his motorcycle.
Genevieve skidded to a halt. “I’m not going to ride on that thing.” She felt the knot in her stomach form just looking at the motorcycle. What a dangerous piece of machinery it was.
“Yes you are,” John said determinedly.
“No I’m not.” Genevieve was obstinately determined that she was most certainly not going to get on that death machine. “I could get killed on that thing.” She looked at the Indian motorcycle as if it were a dragon seeking its next meal.
From the back yard came a miniature explosion. Matilda’s little shriek cut the air followed by the laughter of Will and Jimmy. John glanced at Genevieve and laughed lightly. “Well, looks like that cannon you bought Jimmy has gone over big.”
She scrunched her face into a frown not listening to a word he said. “I’m not going to ride on that thing, John.”
John turned to her and spoke in a low voice as if explaining something to a child. “Listen, honey, Sunbury is ten miles or more down the road. You couldn’t even walk the first two miles before those blisters would start to hurt again.”
He guided her slowly over to the motorcycle. “Now see, I have this wonderful wheeled horse just to take milady conveniently and, without walking on sore feet I might add, to a wonderful restaurant I know in Sunbury.”
He turned her around to face him. “Now we can stand here and argue all our time away on how we’re going to get there but, in the end little miss goddess of mine, you are going to get on this motorcycle if I have to drag you on it and tie you to me.” There was absolute resolution in his voice.
Genevieve knew she couldn’t win. John had to be the most stubborn person on the face of the earth. “Okay,” she relented barely audible, “I’ll do it but I want you to know I’m really scared. You better not get us killed.”
John threw a leg over the saddle of the bike and drew her on to the back where she sat with her legs tucked behind his. He laughed a little. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m not going to kill us, not on purpose any way.”
“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Genevieve snapped back sarcastically. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She wasn’t sure which bothered her more, riding on the motorcycle or John’s back pressed against her chest and her legs snugly folded next to his.
John reached back, took her hands, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “All you have to do is hang on tight and lean the way I lean. Got that?”
Genevieve was shaking too much to answer so she nodded her head even though she was sure he wasn’t really waiting for her permission. Her stomach clenched with anxiety and fear made her hands tremble.
John kicked the starter with his left heel and the engine sputtered into life. It sounded like a chain saw.
Genevieve hugged John’s waist in a death grip and laid her face against his back as he drew on his goggles over his eyes. “Genevieve,” he yelled over the roar of the engine, “I have to be able to breathe, honey, not that I don’t love you holding me that tight.” He laughed and the motorcycle lunged forward onto the dirt road.
Genevieve watched as John squeezed the clutch with his left hand and reached down to change the gear with his right hand on the stick gear in front of him.
“Aren’t we supposed to have on helmets? There’s a law about that,” Genevieve yelled into his back. She felt the rumble of his laughter on her cheek.
“I don’t think they have a law about that. We’re not going into battle; we’re just taking a ride.” He laughed out loud. “You might want to keep your mouth shut before a bug flies in it,” he shouted and laughed again.
The engine whined a few seconds as John changed gears again. The machine hummed as they scattered rocks and dirt in their wake down the country road. The wind blew through his hair and Genevieve’s braid flopped heavily in the wind the bike created.
“I never saw a motorcycle with a stick shift on the body before,” Genevieve called out over the roar of the engine. “Isn’t there some kind of shift thingy on the handlebar?”
“That’s a mighty interesting question seeing how there is no other motorcycle anywhere. Indian is all there is and this is where the gears are.” John was silent a moment than added, “But now that I think about it, it would sure be more convenient if the ‘thingy’ was on the handlebar.”
Genevieve was beginning to loosen her grip a little as she began to grow calm. A little burn of fear still scorched her stomach though. “Does this thing have brakes?” she called out the question.
“You’ll be glad to know there’s two. I got one in my right hand and the other is located here under my right foot. You couldn’t be any safer.” He spoke loudly making his voice rise above the engine noise. “Isn’t this the greatest?” He was obviously enjoying himself.
Genevieve wasn’t so sure it was the greatest thing riding wildly down a dirt road on a motorcycle. In her real life, she would never take such a crazy chance. But there was one thing she thought that made this dangerous and impulsive antic worthwhile. She got to hold John close to her until she could hear his heartbeat and the vibration of his voice through his jacket on her cheek. The time she spent with John was worth all the heartache that would come later.

Sarah McNeal www.sarahmcneal.com

Call For Submissions...

2008-09-07T15:03:00.000-07:00

I'm helping to put together a new website called Free Romance Fiction, and we're putting out a call for submissions from published romance authors. This is a really good opportunity to get the word out about your books! I hope those of you that read the blog here, or that post here on the blog will consider submitting. Here's the details:

We are accepting submissions for a new website called Free Romance Fiction. If you are a published romance author then this could be a very nice opportunity for you. We do not discriminate and your story can be from any sub-genre in the romance genre such as erotic, GLBT, Contemporary etc. Our motto is “Where Readers Find Free Romance Fiction by Their Favorite Authors.”

There are guidelines that must be followed and can be viewed on the Submissions page of our website, but the main ones are that you must be a published romance author, your submission must be at least five pages long, and your story cannot be published anywhere else. We believe the saying that “content is king,” and in order to follow this, and to be able to search engine optimize the site, it is necessary that all our content be original. Even though we are requesting that your story not be published anywhere else, you retain full copyright of your story at all times.

As payment for submitting to Free Romance Fiction, those who submit a story by midnight September 30, 2008 will receive one month of free premium advertising on our front page for the cover of their latest release. If you were published in an online newsletter or magazine and or don’t have a current romance book released at the moment, we will hold your free month until you do. We will also provide you with a cover, there are about 40 to choose from, or you can provide your own if you like. You will also receive a banner that you can put on your website or use in your e-mail signature to link to the page containing your story.

Our goals are two-fold, we want to help romance authors get the word out about their books, and we want to provide readers with some free fiction from their favorite romance authors.

For more information on how to submit, please visit the submissions page on our website at Free Romance Fiction or e-mail us at submissionsfreeromancefiction@yahoo.com

Trial By Fire

2008-09-04T13:08:00.001-07:00

Trial by Fire/Anne Ireland/Eternal Press

This is a historical time slip. The story alternates between Ally, a modern woman who needs to rest and recover from an accident and Isolde, a woman in the fourteenth century who was condemned as a witch. Ally needs to rest but the whispers have started. Is she going mad or is she being haunted - and why.

Out with Eternal Press on 7th September

As she went down to the hall, Ally heard someone laugh. It was a pleasant sound, youthful and joyous. Where had it come from? The door to the sitting room was open. She walked in, half expecting to see a child at play, because it had surely been a child's laughter. The room was unoccupied, but the tiny, latticed window had been left open a little at the top. Of course, that was why she had heard the laughter. Sound carried a long way at night. Her neighbour probably had children.

Ally smiled, picked up another suitcase, and carried it upstairs.

"Why do you always smell so sweet? Why does your skin have the perfume of flowers?"

Ally froze as she heard the whisper. The voice was a man's―a man talking to his lover.

Laughter and now, whispers! Ally's skin prickled as she stood on the threshold to her bedroom. The voice had seemed to come from this room. But, it couldn't have. She had been into the room; she knew it was empty. Perhaps one of the other rooms? Was it possible that someone had been squatting here?

Putting down her case, she walked along the hall and looked inside the other bedrooms. They were both neat and clean, as pristine as when the agent had showed her the cottage. No one was in the house. It was her imagination.

Ally went back to the bedroom. It was quite empty. She was alone in the house. She hadn't heard that whisper. It was all in her mind.

Perhaps it was the book beginning to take shape at last. The explanation was one she could live with, because it had happened occasionally in the past. Not whispers exactly, but thoughts that came out of the blue and were so insistent, so loud in her head that they might have been spoken.

Trial by Fire © 2008 by Anne Ireland

Hope you enjoy the excerpts. To read more bits of my work visit my website and click on the story blog.

www.lindasole.co.uk

Collecting Stuff

2008-08-28T15:06:00.000-07:00

Do you collect stuff--stupid, useless stuff? Apparently, I do. Last Monday when I was writing about every day heroes, I came across this picture of PEZ heroes and the first thing I thought about was, how come I don't have those? I never even saw them. How could I have missed them? I have 2 boxes full of PEZ containers that I haven't even opened in 4 years--not that that stopped me from collecting more. It's always an excuse like, but these have fuzzy coats. When am I going to see an Elvis one again? And so on and so on and so on. I even know the best but hardest to find flavor of PEZ--Cola. Truth is, they all taste a little like chalk. They have peppermint, too but it's also hard to find.
What do you do with this stuff? It's not like there is a cool display case for them though, believe me, I've tried to come up with something. If I did display them, they would fill up all the walls in my study. There would be no room for books.
Speaking of books, I collected those, too. I finally realized that. with a few exceptions, I only read a novel once. Reference books are another matter. I believe one should have plenty of those--and I do--of course. I finally took a car load of novels to The Salvation Army and the Commonwealth Second Hand Book Store (a snooty bunch of people there, by the by who only want certain books. They turned down a complete set of Sherlock Holmes and a bunch of classics--but hey, no problem. I took them right back home.)
So any way, I just wondered if anyone else had this collecting thingy going on. Is there a cure? Meanwhile, I'm looking for a bigger box for these dang PEZ containers. With all the rain we've had maybe I could string them in bundles and use them as floats.
Have a great weekend.
Sarah McNeal
http://www.sarahmcneal.com/

In Audio

2008-08-23T09:11:00.000-07:00

I now have a couple of copies of my book Love Is Not enough in audio. This is an Anne Herries book published by Severn House and now in audio by soundings. It took me ages to find a pic of this, but last night I got lucky so here it is. I am also putting up the cover for the hardback. I'm not sure which I like the best, but they both have merits! Love, Linda/Anne.

I am really pleased because soundings have also taken the second book in the trilogy and this doesn't always happen.

Twilight's Kiss Receives Five Hearts from The Romance Studio!

2008-08-20T19:42:00.000-07:00

Dee Dailey from The Romance Studio gave Twilight's Kiss a FIVE HEART REVIEW! I'm over the moon about this fantastic review! Here's a few snippets of what she had to say about Twilight's Kiss,
Marly Mathews has written a humorous, suspenseful tale of villagers turned vampire slayers. They all know of Lord Sean’s affliction, love him still. Ms. Mathews does a great job building her characters. Bridget, Sean, Grace, Father Clancy, Mary, Rupert, Iris all come alive under her pen.

and...

This is a fun tale with some suspenseful twists from beginning to end. Ms. Mathews writes some of the best dialogue and scenarios around. Sean is such a powerful but loveable guy I just couldn’t help hoping with the rest of the village that Bridget would just say the words and save them both from heartache. It’s a great book with a nice little twist at the end to make it even better.

Thank you so much Dee for your kind words! I'm always happy when a reviewer loves my writing!

If you all are interested you can read the full review by following this link,
Twilight's Kiss reviewed by The Romance Studio!

~Marly