|Posted by Saewod on September 22, 2012 at 12:00 AM||comments (1)|
|Posted by Saewod on August 25, 2012 at 12:00 AM||comments (1)|
The Fae Dragon Chronicles
By Marne Ann Kirk
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Crescent Moon Press
Number of pages: 277
Word Count: 86,100 words
For millennia, dragon and fae have peacefully co-existed, but the fae themselves have lived segregated and very different lives.
Now a malevolence threatens to separate them all permanently. Can a Queen's guard and a rebellious outlaw join forces to defeat this common enemy?
Tyler's touch sparks fierce desire, drawing Issie to him, but she despises his way of life and all that palace society represents. If he learns she wields majic to help the less fortunate escape the kingdom, he'll charge her with treason. Her punishment - death.
Issie is a sassy rebel who is constantly looking for ways to circumvent the conventions of their society. Tyler's head warns that she's a non-majical lower, beneath him. His heart sees by her inner strength and outer beauty. Only a binding love will lend them strength to save her life - their world.
Tyler pushed his way through the onlookers. They reeked of sex and sweat. The foul odor made his eyes water and his vision blur as he forced his way to the front of the crowd, almost stepping on the female lying in a heap on the floor. He turned, saw his guards at the rear of the crowd, and addressed the unfortunate Lowers. “Leave now.”
He turned back to the scene, expecting them to follow his orders. Disgust filled him as he assessed the scene. Blood pooled on the bed where two bodies laid holding each other. The heads from both bodies were missing. He wouldn’t bother searching for them now. He wouldn’t find them. The killer, it seemed, liked to keep the heads as trophies.
Tyler sighed, becoming aware again of the others crowding the room. When he found those heads, he’d find the sick bastard who did this.
“But what ‘bout Lenore?”
“I ‘eard Issie scream.”
“She all right?”
One chattered over the next in their efforts to find out what happened. They weren’t listening to him.
His eye twitched. He hated when that happened.
How could he make these dullards leave? Did they not see the violent murders on the bed? Or did they not care? Were their lives so barren and meaningless, death didn’t bother them?
His gaze fell on the female at his feet. Her face covered by her mass of honeyed tresses, she lay in a limp pile, her robes undone and revealing a creamy swell of ample breast.
The two victims in the bed were beyond help, but this unconscious female held the concern of the others.
He knelt by her side and lifted her in his arms. She smelled clean, like moss and sea air, instead of the sweaty body he’d expected. Her hair caressed his arm when he stood with her nestled to his chest. It fell like a lowered curtain and hung almost to his knees. A waterfall of honey.
She felt right in his arms; her neck fit into the crook of his shoulder, her breath warmed his chest like she belonged there.
Where had such a thought come from? He didn’t associate with the powerless Lower class. Ever.
He pushed aside a rising need to draw her even nearer.
Tyler faced the crowd again. “As you can see, she sleeps. She’s not injured. Now go. All of you.” He fixed a few of them with the glacial silver stare which always yielded results. “Go back to your beds. I’m Tyler, of the High Council. My warriors will take care of this.”
“But, Issie. Is she hurt?” one barmaid asked, wrapping her arms around her waist as if she feared retching.
“You, take me to Issie’s rooms. The rest of you, go. She’ll be fine.” Or at least I’ll be, if I can have some quiet to think.
”What ‘bout Lenore? She pass through the gates?”
Everyone began speaking at once, like a gathering of Lower younglings after a sweet. They had no regard for his orders. Such disrespect was unacceptable. He had to get this under control.
”Go,” he roared, silencing the room.
The crowd shuffled down the hall and disappeared behind different doors. Bits of conversation-- “Can’t believe Lenore’s gone,” and “who could do such a thing?” --floated back to him.
Who indeed? The fae were peaceful caretakers for the dragons. Murder didn’t happen among them. It was a coarse crime of the mortals--until three moons ago. And now, it had happened again--to another messenger and another whore-maid.
Marne Ann Kirk grew up wild, exploring the vast high deserts and mountains of the West with her family as a child. Marne Ann loved making up stories and, well, lied about just about everything. Thankfully, she grew out of the lying stage...now she calls it story-telling.
Her debut novel, “Love Chosen: Book One of The Fae Dragon Chronicles,” is available now. “Love Dared: Book Two of The Fae Dragon Chronicles,” is coming soon. “Goddess on the Run,” a paranormal romance, will be available September 17, 2012. You can find out more about Marne Ann through her publisher, Crescent Moon Press, or visit her at: www.marneannkirk.com or www.cowboysndragonscafe.blogspot.com
Facebook: MarneAnnKirk or www.facebook.com/marneannkirk
Goodreads: Marne Ann Kirk or www.goodreads.com/author/show/5822484.Marne_Ann_Kirk
|Posted by Saewod on August 13, 2012 at 12:00 AM||comments (0)|
By Beck Sherman
Number of pages: approx. 439
Word Count: approx. 162,024
FOR THREE DAYS, IT WAS DARK.
News reporters scrambled. This was the biggest story to come along in weeks.
They called it a blackout.
The last one was in New York City in 2003, but this one was different, special, because the grids in six major cities across the country had been fried, kaput, see-you-next-Sunday. Everyone with some jurisdiction blamed each other, and when there was no one left to blame, terrorism rode in on its gallant steed.
It was the media’s fault. They were so busy stuffing fanatical Muslims with a penchant for Allah and decapitations down the American citizen’s throat, that they never saw it coming. I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on them.
They were partially right.
It was terror after all, but a whole new kind. And when the lights came back on, things had changed.
The dark had brought us visitors.
Book Trailer www.youtube.com/watch?v=CA6GEtgc0yY
“Over there,” Charlie said, in an urgent whisper. We all looked at Charlie. He had his gun pointing toward the right side of the room. “It moved. I’m sure of it. The one that looks like…like the lead singer of the Ramones. He moved his hand.”
“Which one’s that?” Topps asked, waving his gun in the general direction.
“The guy with the long hair...I swear, I swear he moved.”
“We believe you,” Topps said, and we did because there was no reason not to and every reason to.
We were all pointing our guns and flashlights now. Our beams met on the seemingly lifeless body of a tall, thin man with pruned flesh and three missing fingers. He was shirtless, in tight black jeans. His eyes were closed.
The room was still.
If he moved, we’d know it.
“What’s that sound? Do you hear it?” Seven asked.
We did. It was a wet noise—very quiet but coming from all around. Only holding your breath could you hear it. We eyed the bodies and aimed our guns.
“They’re dead. We checked them,” Seven said.
Leech was standing a couple feet away from Cooper and I. He leaned over one of the bodies, an older woman with a wide forehead and frizzy hair. He straightened up suddenly.
“It’s their teeth, folks. They’re coming out.”
Quick movement somewhere.
A horrible screech.
A shot was fired, and other shots rang out in succession.
My hearing dropped out, but I still had my sight, and I saw the hermits, toothy and mad, rising up off the ground in shifting beams of light. The ones that had no limbs made do, shuffling, hopping, jerking, lunging toward dinner.
Someone screamed. It might have been me.
A hermit appeared in front of me. Its whole body was vibrating. I shot.
I fired again and hit the hermit’s chest, catapulting the vampire into the wave of violence behind it. A hand wrapped around my arm, urging me forward. Cooper. He was yelling something.
We surged ahead, torn mangled bodies we had just inspected coming for us from all directions.
The little boy with the severed arm rushed at me, ducking and dodging. I emptied my gun, not able to get a mark.
I threw the gun.
It hit his head but did nothing to slow him. I pulled the stake from out of my back sheath and whacked him across the face twice. He rammed into me, making me drop my stake. I got a hold of his tiny ears and veered his gnashing teeth away from my stomach. I pressed my hands firmly against both sides of his head and yanked to the right. I felt a pop and let go.
The child hermit backed away from me, his head now lolling to the side. I retrieved my stake and heaved it into his chest.
Far away, shots fired. My arm flared with pain. I looked down at a small circle on my bicep seeping blood. I’d been shot.
An arm, more bone than the other stuff, slid around my neck. The hand at the end of that arm forced my head to the side, stretching my jugular. Breath that promised no tomorrow slid across my cheek.
Beck Sherman was born and raised in Massachusetts, studied undergrad at Syracuse University, has a master’s degree in photojournalism from the University of Westminster, London, and when not writing, enjoys exploring abandoned insane asylums and photo-documenting the things that go bump in the night, when they’re kind enough to pose.
|Posted by Saewod on July 20, 2012 at 12:00 AM||comments (0)|
"Why let a little thing like death
get in the way of a good time?"
Thirty-six year old Irene Dunphy didn't plan on dying any time soon, but that’s exactly what happens when she makes the mistake of getting behind the wheel after a night bar-hopping with friends. She finds herself stranded on Earth as a ghost, where the food has no taste, the alcohol doesn’t get you drunk, and the sex...well, let’s just say “don’t bother.” To make matters worse, the only person who can see her—courtesy of a book he found in his school library—is a fourteen-year-old boy genius obsessed with the afterlife.
This sounds suspiciously like hell to Irene, so she prepares to strike out for the Great Beyond. The only problem is that, while this side has exorcism, ghost repellents, and soul devouring demons, the other side has three-headed hell hounds, final judgment, and eternal torment. If only there was a third option…
Publication Date: August 1, 2012
Publisher: Eternal Press
Number of Pages: 356
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy
Purchase Details (links coming soon)
Paperback Available From: E-Book Available From:
Amazon.co.uk Amazon.co.uk (kindle)
B&N.com B&N.com (nook)
Local Book Retailers Blio
A boy appeared in her path. She veered around him and then skidded to a halt. Something about him made her stop. She turned around to look at him and realized he was staring at her, his face a mask of astonishment, his mouth hanging open.
“Hey kid, watch where you’re going!” she said, more surprised than annoyed.
He was maybe fourteen and nearly as tall as her, at that “beanpole” stage, as her grandmother had called it—the tall and scrawny look of one growing too fast. What little of his face visible under a curtain of straw-colored hair was pointed and sharp—cheekbones, chin, and nose. His hair, cut in an asymmetrical bob that left it longer in the front than the back, was parted on the side and hung in his face, concealing his left eye. Somehow, the way one washed-out hazel eye was visible and the other hidden reminded her of Pete, the dog from the Little Rascals.
She realized he hadn’t moved a muscle and was still staring at her gape-mouthed.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
He gave a little shake of his head, as if he was doing a double take. The motion caused the curtain of hair hanging over his eyes to sway. “Yeeesss,” he said in a slow, cautious, drawn-out way.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“Well, it’s just, because…you know. You’re…” He trailed off.
Irene narrowed her eyes. “I’m what?”
The boy turned beet red and took a step back, giving a hard gulp that made Irene fear he had swallowed his tongue. “Well…dead,” he stuttered.
About the Author
Terri Bruce has been making up adventure stories for as long as she can remember and won her first writing award when she was twelve. Like Anne Shirley, she prefers to make people cry rather than laugh, but is happy if she can do either. She produces fantasy and adventure stories from a haunted house in New England where she lives with her husband and three cats.
|Posted by Saewod on July 16, 2012 at 12:00 AM||comments (0)|
By M.M. Shelley
Mishap & Retribution
By M.M. Shelley
Mishap Series/Book 3
Genre: YA/ Fantasy/ Sci-Fi
Number of pages: 302
Word Count: 56,662
At the Dawn of Time a curse against Man was made and only Death will satisfy it.
The year is 2045 and twins Grasiella and Tatiana who are Cinerian, Fae and Human must choose a side and may find themselves on different sides of an ancient war.
With Tatiana trapped in the Fae realm and learning what life has been like, she has found herself bonding with the Fae. Grasiella seeking the whereabouts of her twin has come to a crossroads of her own.
Separated and neither knowing the fate of the other, each make their way to an uncertain future.
Death has swept across the Hawaiian Islands and the cost of peace may be too high.
About the Author:
M.M. Shelley is a storyteller, word smith and dreamer. She has traveled the world extensively in search of the magic which is often overlooked in every day life. M.M. Shelley is a native of southern California, and a student of mythology from which she gets much inspiration.
Author web links:
|Posted by Saewod on July 9, 2012 at 12:00 AM||comments (1)|
The Grave Artist
By Paula Lynn Johnson
ASIN : B007JZT5A0
16-year-old Clare can't stop drawing the bizarre, winged skulls she calls "Sammies". Her psychiatrist assumes the compulsive drawings are just expressions of Clare's grief over her father abandoning her. But then Clare discovers that her Sammies are exact matches for the Death's Head on the grave of Samantha Forsythe, a teen who reportedly fell to her death over two centuries ago.
Before long, Clare's drawings morph into cryptic writings that urge her to uncover the truth behind Samantha's death. Together with Neil -- the friend she might be falling for -- Clare scours the local history for clues. She finds that, although Samantha was engaged to a wealthy landowner, there were whispered rumors of her involvement with a younger, biracial man.
Soon, Clare is haunted by disturbing dream images -- a mysterious eye, a broken chain -- that point to someone Samantha called her "Dearest". But who is Dearest? And why does Samantha need Clare to find him so badly?
Isolated and carrying hidden scars of her own, Clare fears her obsession with Samantha will threaten her sanity and safety. But it seems she has no choice in the matter . . .
The Grave Artist is a compelling paranormal murder mystery and a poignant story about loss and what it means thrive in a less-than-perfect reality.
Paula Lynn Johnson loves a good ghost story. She's a former English major and attorney living in central New Jersey with her husband, kids, cat, dog, and killer rabbit. She adores them all, even the killer rabbit.
Paula also loves a good laugh! You can read her short, humorous pieces on sites like The Big Jewel and Errant Parent, or on her blog, Twaddle Like a Duck.
When she's not writing, Paula sells antiques and art out of Lambertville, NJ. You can visit her online at Tiny's Lambertville.
|Posted by Saewod on July 5, 2012 at 1:00 AM||comments (1)|
A Day In The Life of Abby…
Yeah, it’s kind-of a funny thing, my life when I think of it from a writer’s point of view. I truly live a completely split life, often fearing the need for counseling due to such extreme multiple personalities ! LOL No, seriously, to me my two lives make sense, well to me at least. Thing is, I love both parts of my life equally. I just don’t let them meet or clash *winks* for very personal reasons.
By day I’m a college student in the US, boy that narrows it down doesn’t it? But, actually, it’s a big campus where the seasons change, and I love it. Yep, only hint I will give! I work in an office on campus too, to pay the bills. I love the ladies I work with, but they would just faint, or something much worse, if they knew about my alter ego, and what I do with some of my nights penning stories while pretending to be writing a class paper! I hate to sound so vague about my personal life, but I really keep the college student and the writer completely separate! I have good reasons why, dreams I want both ways.
As my bio so truly states: By day, Abby is what the world tells her to be. By night, alone with her imagination, she is who she wants to be.
I like playing the good girl during the day, the girl everyone can talk to, can depend on. People I know call me sweet or cute or laid-back. I live in jeans and college sweatshirts even on the job. And I don’t think this in any way is juxtaposed to what I do at night, the steamy erotic writing, alone in my apartment. It’s really just a matter of people being pretty close-minded and not being able to see that what I fantasize about sexually has nothing to do with the rest of my life. It doesn’t define ALL of me. We all know that most think what you write is your life, and I don’t feel like explaining to everyone that that is simply not true. And to tell the truth, I don’t judge anyone who would judge me, because that just compounds the problem we have today. I offer everyone the right to believe what they will, read what they like, and to keep their sex life as personal or as public as they want and need it to be. I just choose to not have to deal with the nonsense of the overly, and loudly, opinionated.
My dual life just makes the day run smoother, and ensures me no issues in the field I am going into.
I am always true to myself if nothing else, though, even if being secretive doesn’t sound like I am. Both personalities are me, and in each, I am me, just a different part of me if that makes sense. I just believe in keeping my sexual appetites and fantasies to myself, and the people I hand pick to share in them. My writing though, as Abby Hayes, now lets me share it with more people, more freely! I could never thank Ms. Gina Kincade, Owner of Naughty Nights Press for liking my stories enough to provide me with such wonderful opportunities to get them out there. And, I’m currently meeting a wonderful new group of people with the authors I have encountered through being published with NNP. If I could just find more FaceBook time now, life would be perfect. But, I’ll get there. I’m very determined!
A lot of nights I am in over my head with school work after a long day of classes and work. But I try to make time a few nights a week, and hopefully more and more soon, to write, to let my imagination, my sexual desires, take over, release into the pages of my stories. By the time it’s dark outside, you will find me in bed, in silk, with my laptop and a strong cup of coffee typing away, or researching – oh what fun the researching is. I’ll just let your imagination go there! LOL
I currently have about as many semester hours left in school as I have stories released Cool, huh? Below, take a look at my first three novellas currently available:
Days before her high school reunion, Kelly reconnects on Facebook with childhood friend, Nevaeh—a woman who, rumor has it, has lived a life straight out of some erotic novel. And, Kelly has a lot of erotica on her ereader! Ménages, slave fantasies, strangers and BDSM are all included in the stories Nevaeh has to share.
This sexy, world traveler incites Kelly to forge a friendship unlike any she’s ever had before. She never knew a shopping trip could be so educational, especially in an adult store. With her head spinning and her panties damp, Kelly embarks on a crusade to reignite the passion her and her husband, Nate, once had with a few new toys and other surprises. When he surprises her by being a more than willing participant, she decides to test a few boundaries, push a few limits...
Kelly becomes determined to find out if her old neighbor is right, if paradise can be found within your own four walls with the man you married. But, what happens when Kelly’s husband finds out about all of her time spent with Nevaeh? What will happen when Nevaeh’s husband, Hayden, comes into town for the reunion? Will her marriage be in trouble, or will things go further than Kelly ever dreamed they could go?
"Warning: please refrain from reading Finding Paradise while in the presence of others, as frequent relief may be required. Holy smokes this book is HOT! For exquisite sex scenes, amazing writing and the "real talk" feel for online chat, Finding Paradise is certainly deserving of a JERR Silver Star Award. Bottom line, find your own bit of paradise and pick up Finding ParadiseASAP!" - Silver Star Award at Just Erotic Romance Reviews (5/5 Stars)
Three years ago when she opened her bar, Rage on the Water, her boyfriend at the time, a guy she thought she would spend the rest of her life with, dumped her that year on Valentine’s Day. Never a big fan of the holiday before, she now loathes it. Having gone through a bit of a wild phase these past years, she has given up dating altogether. Instead, she’s been exploring her wilder side, one where her kinks and more wanton interests prevail, in her apartment above the bar with a guy friend and at times, others he invites in.
This year on Valentine’s Day though, a conversation with her long time guy friend with benefits, Mark, lands her in a situation beyond any she has experienced before. There will be two men and two women for her to play dominatrix with. While ignoring Mark’s changing intentions toward her, like his invitations to go on an actual date, it being Valentine’s Day, she’s more than a bit excited to spank a few asses.
Tonight Shannon has four bodies to play with, but Mark’s are unnerving her. She goes with each whim of her body and mind, but will they expose her? Will she be able to still play her role well? Or will she give in to all that scares her? With bodies exposed and asses red, it is truly her heart on the line…
Abby Hayes latest book SEEING RED will have you trembling with anticipation of what will happen next as she weaves a tale of lust, light bdsm, ménage a trois and Valentine’s Day.
SEEING RED by Abby Hayes can only be purchased through Amazon
Kim was tired of still working non-field-related jobs three years after getting her B.A. in Film and Digital Media. After a bad break up, she talks herself into doing something about it and applies for a job in the adult film industry. Thinking she made a mistake – looking at the cheesy posters on the walls while waiting for her interview – she comes close to leaving, taking another cashier job. However, when she catches a glimpse of her boss-to-be and his disheveled dusty blond hair, chocolate brown eyes and tight white t-shirt showing ripped abs above tight torn at the thigh jeans, she is more than intrigued.
Now, between her sexy-as-hell boss man, David, and filming a ménage shoot, Kim is having feelings and thoughts she never thought she would.
Kim begins to realize this just might be her dream job after all.
By day, Abby is what the world tells her to be. By night, alone with her imagination, she is who she wants to be. Giving into the breathy voices who pant new and exciting sexual scenarios inside of her head, she pounds away at her keyboard. Abby’s only goal is to have her readers free their own minds, grab their ereaders, and go away with her into a world where no one judges what the body wants, instead they explore what the flesh is capable of.
|Posted by Saewod on June 11, 2012 at 12:00 AM||comments (0)|
Interview with a Jewish Vampire
by Erica Manfred
The last thing zaftig middle-aged journalist, Rhoda Ginsburg, expected when she signed up for JDate was to fall in love with a vampire. But when she meets drop-dead gorgeous Sheldon, a Hasidic vampire, she falls hard. She rationalizes that he may not be alive, but at least he’s Jewish.
She learns that back in the nineteenth century Sheldon was a rabbi who was turned into a vampire by Count Dracula, an anti-Semite who got his kicks from turning Orthodox Jews into vampires because then they’d have to drink blood, which isn’t kosher.
Soon after she meets Sheldon, she discovers her beloved mother, Fanny, is terminally ill, so she comes up with the crackpot idea of getting Sheldon to turn Fanny and her friends, known as “the goils,” into vampires.
Once she becomes a vampire, Fanny tires of her boring life in Century Village, Florida, and, seeking thrills, she goes clubbing and disappears into the nightlife of South Beach in Miami. When Fanny and her goil posse “go rogue” and start preying on the young, Rhoda and Sheldon must track them down to keep them from killing again.
Interview with a Jewish Vampire turns vampire lore on its head, proving that not all vampires are young and beautiful and it IS possible to be undead and kosher.
About the Author:
Erica Manfred is a freelance journalist, humorous essayist, and author. Her most recent book is the novel, Interview with a Jewish Vampire. She’s also authored two non-fiction self-help books, including most recently He’s History You’re Not; Surviving Divorce After Forty. Her articles and essays have appeared in Cosmopolitan, The New York Times Magazine, Ms., New Age Journal, Village Voice, Woman’s Day, SELF, Ladies Home Journal, and many other publications. Erica lives in Woodstock, New York with her Chihuahua, Shadow, and her daughter, Freda. Brought up by Jewish parents who spoke Yiddish but avoided religion, she got her Jewish education at the Woodstock Jewish Congregation which welcomes Jews from all backgrounds, from atheist to Orthodox, to vampire. Her website is www.ericamanfred.com, or visit www.jewishvampire.com
|Posted by Saewod on June 8, 2012 at 12:00 AM||comments (0)|
One wild, winter's night two worlds collide.
Known for his ruthless efficiency, Captain George Huntley is sent to stamp out smuggling on the south coast of England. On a night raid, the Captain captures a lanky lad, but finds his troubles are just beginning when the lad turns out to be a lass, Hope Tyler.
With Hope as bait, the Captain sets a trap to catch the rest of the gang. But in a battle of wills, with his reputation at stake, George Huntley starts to respect feisty, independent Hope. Challenged by her sea-green eyes and stubborn loyalty Huntley now faces a new threat - his growing attraction to a sworn enemy. And a love where either Hope betrays her own kind, or Captain Huntley is court-marshalled, is not an easy destiny to follow.
Injured on a smuggling run, Hope wakes to face the naval officer who captured her.
Hope kept her eyes closed as she became conscious of a man's heavy tread pacing the room. She waited until he was at the window and opened her eyelids a fraction. With the light behind him she saw an athletic man with wide shoulders, tall enough to have to stoop under the sloping eaves. Her stomach felt hollow with foreboding, for without doubt, this was the same man who'd pursued her over the dunes.
He must have sensed a change in her breathing, for suddenly he turned. He stared, with piercing blue eyes that penetrated her soul. Dressed in a naval uniform, the jacket cuffs ringed with gold braid, the man exuded authority. He continued to stare, his face unreadable; wilful, she decided, and yet uncommonly handsome. She blushed and reached for the covers, pulling them up to her chin.
"So, enough pretending. You are awake at last." His voice, deep and melodic, brooked no argument.
"Please, sir, where am I?"
"Under house arrest." He growled, obviously no friend. And yet, she touched her bandaged head, someone had taken care of her.
"You are in pain?" His consideration was surprising.
"Not so much now."
The answer pleased him. "Good, then you have some explaining to do."
"Please, sir, who are you?"
The man threw her a sideways glance and started to pace.
"Captain Huntley, RN. And you are?"
She decided against lying, her name alone couldn’t incriminate her family.
"Well Miss Tyler, have you the slightest idea how much trouble you're in?"
The Captain stared at the ceiling. "A man died because of your felony. A Revenue man. He leaves a wife and three children."
"I'm so sorry." She whispered in distress.
"His fellow officers are baying for blood."
Hope trembled, things were worse than she imagined.
"Someone must hang for his death."
Her throat closed over.
"Be it you…or the man who pulled the trigger….my men don’t care." Captain Huntley stepped closer, his presence dominating the room. She couldn’t breathe, he seemed made of granite, his eyes like flints, sparking with anger. "But I'm different." His expression softened imperceptibly. "I like to think of myself as a fair man."
Hope nodded, to encourage him.
"Any fool can see you are just a bit-player, a lackey. The men I want are the leaders, those who finance the contraband and organise the landings. Tell me who they are, and I shall intercede on your behalf with the authorities."
"What if I don’t know their names?"
His wide mouth twitched downward. "Then I cannot help you."
She would have shaken her head had it not been too painful. "The men you speak of aren't stupid. They will know I am taken, and know if I betray them. If I do… they will come for my family."
"Then put them behind bars."
"It's too risky. This way, it's only me."
He tried to hide it, but he looked surprised. She saw him drinking in the logic of her words and a shadow darkened his face. Clasping his hands behind his back, he turned to stare through the window.
"Tell me," he said benignly, "what does it feel like to be abandoned? Because that's what the smugglers did. Sailed away without a backward glance and left you to your fate."
Grace Elliot leads a double life as a veterinarian by day and an author of historical romance by night. Grace is an avid reader and believes intelligent people need to read romance - as an antidote to the modern world. She works in a companion animal practice near London and is housekeeping staff to five demanding felines.
"Hope's Betrayal" is Grace's third historical romance novel - to find out more please visit: https://www.amazon.com/author/graceelliot
Blog: "Fall in Love With History" http://graceelliot-author.blogspot.com
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|Posted by Saewod on June 6, 2012 at 12:00 AM||comments (0)|
The Silence of Lir
By Mary E. Twomey
Genre: young adult fantasy fiction
Behind the scenes of our spinning earth are keepers of the elements who make sure that tornados don’t destroy cities, fires don’t ravage forests, earthquakes don’t decimate towns, and floods don’t take out humanity. They wrestle with the natural elements to ensure that the world keeps spinning smoothly on its axis.
Since the beginning of time, the Sun has been fading, and the light that shines on the earth is dimming, causing the elements to be more volatile and impossible for the keepers to control.
Now they must enlist the help of one man, Finn, to help them bring the light back to the Sun. The keepers war, the North Star steals light from the Sun, and the Moon is in disrepute. The end of existence is coming, and all the while the king, the Moon, Lir, remains silent.
Book Trailer http://youtu.be/07zpDegBrOQ
By Mary E. Twomey
Genre: young adult fantasy fiction
Available for purchase June 1, 2012
An earthquake caused by Wren and Satchel’s ill-fated tryst brings forth a prophecy that sends the Unrest and the Delegation into a tailspin. Immortals on the earth must be abducted and hidden from the North Star’s greedy grasp.
Vespera’s fury erupts as the Unrest begins to splinter off from the Moon behind her back. Attacks that should be used on the enemy target her supposed allies. Seeds of doubt, betrayal and rebellion begin to sprout in the Realm of the Sun and the Moon, causing division, subterfuge, and deadly attacks.
An evil that was locked up centuries ago is unleashed and let loose on the earth. There are those who fight for unity, those who struggle just to stay alive, those who battle for control, but a few begin their secret plans for a revolt.
By Mary E. Twomey
Genre: young adult fantasy fiction
Available for purchase June 1, 2012
What’s left of the Delegation fights to keep the Order with a man down, and the Unrest in hiding. Three keepers work tirelessly to safely harbor the restless immortals, maintain their elements, and counter Red Flame’s insatiable attacks. The Unrest’s light is dwindling as they remain hidden from Vespera on earth.
Close quarters and unstable power lead to tension and confusion as they try to find a way to be helpful to the Order without being taken out in the process.
Henry cares for Satchel’s son, and trains him to follow in his parents’ footsteps by being ready to defend the light at all costs. Lir’s body is located, and Vespera rages her search for more power when she cannot find the Sword of Secrets. Somehow Stella winds up in the middle – a girl without a friend suddenly thrust into the spotlight and forced to accept her lot in life, being the voice of truth when no one will listen.
Though she and the keepers try to fight for the light, it is inevitable that they all may soon lose themselves to the darkness.
By Mary E. Twomey
Genre: young adult fantasy fiction
Available for purchase June 1, 2012
Light is being stolen, immortals are waking, wombats are untrustworthy and a dead body is rising. After a long time of wishing they could jump into the battle, the Unrest finally has their day in the Sun. Unfortunately, that day is filled with certain death.
Ash comes into his own and joins his parents to fight Vespera and Red Flame. Henry reunites with his own people, only to find that the lair will never be the same again.
Prophecies are unearthed, lives lost, and lines of loyalty blurred. Stella’s body begins to break down slowly, while Lake loses her immortality.
The sword of secrets fights to find its true owner, though none of the keepers can predict the sacrifice that will come.
About the Author:
Mary E. Twomey lives in Michigan with her husband and two adorable children. She enjoys reading, writing, vegetarian cooking and telling her children fantastic stories about wombats.