Holding Out for an Angel

 By Skye Taylor

     “So?” Tony asked, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. “You guys making any New Year’s resolutions?”

Jake looked up from his book. “Why? Nobody ever keeps them?”

“Top of my list is to stay away from she-devils.” The fact that his ex-fiancé had thrown his ring in his face the night before their wedding had left Sam Westmoreland more than a little hurt and wary of women in general. A recent blind date had reinforced his self-protective instincts.

“Not all women are like that,” Tony argued. Newly married himself and still over the moon about his bride, he was eager to share his happiness with his closest friends. Jake was already married, to his high school sweetheart with a precious little girl to love. It only remained to get his buddy Sam hooked up with the right woman.

The three friends had grown up together and while they all had very different day-jobs, they really loved their part-time volunteer positions with the Tide’s Way fire department, and always did their best to get scheduled to work the same shifts – usually the night shift.

Tonight was New Year’s Eve and likely to be crazier than usual, at least for the ambulance crew, which included Tony and Sam. They’d tried to talk Jake into taking the EMT courses with them, but he’d had an unfortunate experience with a premature birth the previous year and didn’t think he was cut out for medical emergencies. He preferred dashing into burning buildings to perform his rescues. But for the moment, nothing bad was happening in town and they were sitting around the table in the firehouse, feet up and relaxing with the television tuned into the festivities in Time’s Square.

“You just need to meet the right woman.”

“That’s what you said when you talked me into taking your wife’s co-worker out to dinner.” Never had Sam enjoyed an evening with a beautiful woman less. The woman had been so full of herself no one else mattered, including the man who was footing the bill and trying to remain a gentleman in spite of her nastiness to him and everyone else.

Tony had the grace to look sheepish. “Yeah, that was a mistake. I had no idea.”  He’d been embarrassed by the woman’s behavior and eventually he and Sam had retreated to the bar and left Tony’s wife to cope with her friend alone. The double date had been her idea, and her responsibility.

“So, what do you think, Jake?” Tony pulled Jake’s attention out his book a second time.

“What do I think about what”

“Sam here. He needs a good woman. Know any?”

Jake looked at Sam with a strange, sad expression in his eyes. Sam suspected Jake’s marriage wasn’t the blissful union Tony’s was, but Jake would never admit it. He’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant and done the right thing by her, giving up his plans to go to college and diving into the working world to support his new family.

“What are the criteria?” Tony asked holding up one hand, fingers splayed. “Dynamite looks.” He folded down one finger. “Fabulous cook. Great in the sack.” He continued to fold down fingers as he ticked off desirable traits in the perfect woman.

“I’m holding out for an angel,” Sam said shaking his head. “Looks can be deceiving. I can teach her how to cook if I have to, and we can teach each other what feels great in bed. But she has to have the heart of an angel.”

“How will you know?” Tony raised his brows. “Barbara seemed pretty angelic to me and you did put a ring on her finger so you must have thought so at the time.”

“I’ll just know.” If experience had taught Sam anything, it was to see beyond the tumbling locks of silky hair and a sexy body. He’d be looking into her eyes. Into her soul next time. He wanted a woman who was kind and loving from the inside out. A woman he could trust with his heart. “I’ll know it here.” He tapped his chest. “Gut feeling.”

Jake snorted. “Good luck with that.”

Before either Tony or Sam could reply the blare of the alarm brought their feet slamming to the floor. The evening mayhem had begun.

     Ariel couldn’t believe she’d been talked into this stupid party. A costume party? On New Year’s Eve? Who had costume parties on New Year’s Eve? Worse was the man she’d agreed to attend with.

The only reason Craig would have asked her to be his date had to be pressure from her uncle who was his boss. Poor Ariel, always the wall-flower, and Uncle Max was determined to get her married off to an up-and-comer. A handsome man with a rich future. You need to have confidence in yourself, Uncle Max liked to tell her.

If only it were that easy. Men didn’t get in line for mousy little women like her. Everything about her was mousy, from the mousy brown hair to her slightly overgenerous curves and too few inches to her less than vivacious personality. It was easy for Uncle Max – he was outgoing, handsome, and bigger than life. He had no idea what it was like to be her. Or what it had been like to be overlooked her entire life – last girl chosen for any team, least likely to be asked out, never called on in class.

She had two truly dear friends and she wished she’d stayed home with them tonight, curled up in her jammies, eating too many forbidden treats, watching the ball drop in Time’s Square. But no. Here she was, dressed in this ridiculous angel costume, waiting for an Uber ride because Craig hadn’t even waited until midnight to find someone with long legs and a willingness to jump into bed. As the ball dropped and everyone else was kissing and tooting horns, she was once again relegated to wall-flower status. No New Year’s kiss for her. No happy wishes and hugs. No flute of champagne to clink against her date’s.

“Are you Miss Thomas?”

So wrapped up in her little pity party, Ariel hadn’t seen the little blue Toyota pull up.

“I am. Sorry.”

The young man leaned across and pushed the door open for her. He had dark skin, a head full of unruly curls, and a wide, friendly grin. “Hop in. You look cold.”

“It’s this absurd outfit,” Ariel said as she slid into the front seat, doing her best to fold the flapping wings behind her and subdue the flowing white gown before shutting the door. “A teddy bear costume would have been a better choice tonight.”

The man eyed her from the ring of glitter meant to be a halo to her feet clad in white ballet slippers and shook his head. “What made you choose it in the first place?” He pulled away from the curb and melted into the flow of traffic.

“Not my idea,” she defended herself. “It was my date’s.”

Uber man glanced at her quickly before turning his attention back to the road that appeared slick and black and maybe even icy. “Where’s the date now?”

Ariel gazed out the side window, not wanting to see the pity in the man’s eyes. She shrugged. “Not a clue.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.” He hunched forward in his seat, looking more closely at the road. “It sure is nasty out tonight.”

“Umm.” Ariel agreed. Nasty in more ways than just the weather.

Not that she’d expected anything better from Craig.

Somewhere, out there, she was sure the right man for her existed. It was how to go about finding him that had her baffled. He had to be kind. And thoughtful. He had to be the sort of man who did things for others because he cared and not because it brought him gain or advancement. The kind of man who would rescue an abandoned animal, or offer comfort to a frightened child and didn’t expect to get paid for doing it. In her line of work, she hadn’t met many men who fit that description, though. Everyone in the investment firm where her Uncle Max had gotten her a job seemed to tag dollar signs onto every transaction, even human ones.

Her attention was suddenly jerked back to the road as the little Toyota slithered sideways and her driver fought with the wheel. A mini-van coming in the other direction was having the same problem. All that inky black was ice after all.

She saw it coming and braced her feet hard against the floorboards. The Uber driver cursed fluently, and Ariel tried not to scream, but fear won out. Then came an awful crashing, the sound of shattering glass, and the car spun wildly. Three times it spun before the rear struck something immovable and the Toyota came to a jarring, painful halt.

     Sam was out of the ambulance before Tony brought it to a complete stop. He opened a hatch and grabbed a first-in bag and then ran toward a little Toyota with its rear end crumpled against a telephone pole.

He tried the passenger side door and thankfully, it opened easily. An angel half fell into his arms, restrained only by her seat belt.

He gaped at the vision, the glittering halo in her soft brown curls, and the flowing white gown that swallowed her small body. Then he shook off his stunned hesitation and spoke to her.

“Ma’am? Are you hurt?”

She pushed at his chest trying to right herself. “Please check on the driver. I think he’s hurt worse than me.”

Sam glanced across the interior of the car. His angel was probably right. The man did look worse.

“Don’t move,” he advised her as he reached across to put two fingers on the man’s neck checking for a pulse. The man was alive, at least for now. But blood poured from a gash across the man’s forehead.

Sam straightened and whistled to get Tony’s attention. He pointed toward the driver’s side, and his partner altered his course to come up on the other side of the Toyota.

“What’s your name?” Sam squatted down beside the fallen angel and began a visual assessment of her condition. “Do you know what day it is?”

She pushed his hand away when he shone his penlight into her eyes. “Ariel and it’s New Year’s Eve. But there’s another car. A minivan, I mean. It went into the ditch.” She tried to sit up and point.

She had cuts on her face and hands, but her seat belt had kept her from smashing her head on the dash and she appeared to be coherent, so Sam reluctantly stood and looked toward the ditch.

The taillights of the other vehicle glowed red in the dark, but that was all he could see of it.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” Sam told the angel. Then he jogged toward the ditch.

     Ariel hurt everywhere, but considering the frantic work going on next to her, she was lucky. She glanced back toward the edge of the road and saw her rescuer assist a man up onto the road. With his shoulder under the other man’s armpit they made their way toward the ambulance. The EMT helped the guy to sit, but the other driver kept pointing toward his minivan and arguing. Finally the EMT left him and trotted back to the minivan.

Someone else must have been inside besides just the driver. She wanted to help, but the man had told her to stay put. He’d been gentle, about it, but there had been a no-nonsense tone to his voice. She did as he asked.

A moment later he reappeared, carrying a golden retriever in his arms. The dog was clearly alive because he was licking the man’s face, but it looked like the dog’s leg might be broken. It hung at an odd angle. Their rescuer pulled a blanket from the ambulance and kicked it open with one toe, then gently laid the dog down. He squatted next to the dog and scratched it behind the ears before giving it a quick examination. Then he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and made a call.

~~~~~

     “You two are a match made in heaven,” Tony said grinning.

“I told you I was holding out for an angel. I just didn’t know God would take me so literally.” Sam was grinning, too. He hadn’t stopped grinning in months. Not since his angel had fallen into his arms. The fact that her name meant Angel was just frosting on the cake. She’d been more concerned about everyone but herself that awful night. Even the dog had come before worrying about her own injuries. As they’d gotten to know each other better, he’d discovered she was everything he’d had on his list. Kind from the inside out. Sweet, caring, gentle and oh, my God, could she kiss.

She could kiss the socks off him, and as he watched her dance with her Uncle Max, her white wedding dress swirling about her perfect little body, with a halo of tiny white flowers in her hair, he was looking forward to a lifetime of angel kisses.

Sale Alert!

Falling for Zoe (where Sam is first mentioned) is on sale for only $0.99!

Today is the last day!

Happy New Year!

What inspired you to write Iain’s Plaid?

My first historical romance is a time travel set during the beginnings of the American War for Independence, and several people along the way to getting it published have asked me what inspired me to write this particular book. So here’s the answer to that query.

Back when I lived on the Maine coast, I came across a book by Bill Caldwell, The Islands of Maine, Where America Really Began. It was a fascinating book about the earliest European settlers in New England. From my front yard I could one of those islands mentioned in Mr. Caldwell’s book. Historian Charles K. Bolton also mentioned this island called Damariscove in his book, The Real Founders of New England, noting that four hundred years ago, “Here was the chief maritime port of New England. Here was the rendezvous for English, French and Dutch ships crossing the Atlantic. Here men bartered with one another and with Indians, drank, gambled, quarreled and sold indentured servants.” Four hundred of years ago, two hundred years before the Pilgrims arrived in Plymouth on the Mayflower, there were “wharves, salting houses (for fish) sheds, boatyards, taverns and perhaps a bawdy house or two for sailors coming ashore after a long Atlantic Crossing” clustered on this tiny island.

Edward Winslow, the Pilgrim representative who came begging for food and supplies in 1622, wrote in his journal that he and his group were graciously welcomed with “Kind entertainment and good respect and a willingness to supply our needs . . . and that there were 30 ships of sail anchored in the harbor.”

Damariscove Island is only two miles long and not more than a quarter mile wide, yet, in 1675 three hundred refugees fleeing Indian wrath sheltered here. A century later, just before the start of the Revolutionary War, a British Naval captain put ashore here and stole 75 sheep to feed his sailors before turning south to burn present day Portland to the ground. During the war of 1812 (the Second War of Independence) the HMS Boxer and the USS Enterprise fought a famous sea battle so close to the island that the inhabitants of Damariscove watched the fight from their own shore. (Just another bit of interesting history, the captain of HMS Boxer, Samuel Blyth, who was just 29 years old, and the American Lieutenant William Burrows, age 28, who captained the USS Enterprise, were both killed in the battle and were buried side by side in a cemetery in Portland, Maine with full military honors.)

Is it any wonder that I was fascinated with this scrap of land I could see from my front yard? So, one glorious summer day, my dad, my daughter, and I sailed out to Damariscove to explore this scrap of an island with so much history. As I stood gazing down at the narrow harbor, Winslow’s words came back to me, and I marveled that 30 sailing ships big enough to cross the Atlantic could have fit in that long gut of bright blue water. There were, just as Bill Caldwell had described, many old granite foundations scattered on the high ground above the harbor and as I stood on the cornerstone of one of the largest foundations, I tried to imagine this island full of people and what life might have been like here in an era when brave young captains ventured forth to harass the British Navy or carry ships filled with salted cod and furs across the Atlantic to Europe. There were tales of a ghost who roamed the island with his faithful dog, but I saw no sign of him. Or any of the other souls who had called this place home for hundreds of years.

Then the rock beneath my feet wobbled. I jumped back alarmed, not wanting to tumble into the long abandoned cellar hole. But as I watched a small shower of loose gravel and dirt tumble into the daisy-lined hole the seemingly random thought came to me, “What if I fell in, hit my head, and was knocked unconscious. And what if when I came to my senses again there were sturdy floor joists over my head and a door enclosing me in a basement filled with the sorts of things kept in basements a long time ago?” As we climbed back in our dinghy and headed back to the sailboat, that question continued to rattle around in my head and that was inspiration for my story, Iain’s Plaid. My heroine, Dani Amico. did just as I had done. With a fascination in American History, she sailed out to explore and she really did fall into that hole and woke up over 200 years in the past, shut up in a cellar belonging to a reluctant patriot. I hope you enjoy reading Dani and Iain’s story as much as I enjoyed imagining and writing it.

Iain’s Plaid is on sale – just 99¢ until April 15^th.

Was she sent back in time to change Iain’s fate . . . or share it?

Caught between a job offer she should take and a marriage proposal she doesn’t want, Dani Amico is dying for some adventure. So she takes off to visit some of the places on her bucket list. The first – an abandoned island she read about while researching her American History thesis. While there, she tumbles into an abandoned cellar hole . . . and wakes up more than two centuries in the past.

It’s 1775 and Iain MacKail’s ship is loaded with contraband he is smuggling into Boston. This unknown Dani, the “boy” he found in his cellar, could be a spy for the British customs agents, so Iain is forced to take the boy with him to insure that he and his mission are not compromised. Only he soon finds out that this ”boy” is so much more.

As they travel through pre-revolutionary New England, Dani realizes she’s falling for the rugged Scotsman. But she can’t forget something she came across in her studies—the fate of Iain MacKail. He would be betrayed by someone close to him and suddenly disappear from history. Could this be the reason Dani fell through time—to save Iain? Could they live and love together in this war-torn time?

Then again, if she tries—and fails—to change his fate . . . will she end up sharing it?

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Author Susan Kearney opens up about what inspired her to write A Dragon of Legend: Lucan!

According to legend, the Holy Grail could cure sickness of those who drank from it—but no one knows if it ever really existed. And that’s perfect material for a writer. Because we have so little factual evidence about it, that leaves room for my fertile imagination to make things up.

I got to play “what if?” What if the Holy Grail could really make someone immortal? It would be the ultimate prize throughout the galaxy. What if the Holy Grail didn’t come from Earth? But suppose we found a star map that led us to it? Wouldn’t it be fun to hunt for the Grail? And what would happen if we found it? Or if our worst enemy found it?

The possibilities are infinite. And that’s just the kind of legend I like—one I can manipulate to fit the kinds of books I write. Science fiction romances or futuristic romance.

I’ve always loved stories about treasures, stories about brave men and women who were willing to risk their lives to help their worlds. And in A Dragon of Legend, I got the chance to create a character determined to find the Grail—even if he had to cross the galaxy to do it. Of course my sexy archaeologist was shocked to find a world called Pendragon, and an edifice called Avalon, where the natives believed the ancient ones had hidden the Holy Grail.

After all, it made sense to protect the most valuable object in the galaxy behind the walls of an impregnable edifice. Only when Lucan teams up with the sexy High Priestess of Avalon does he stand a chance of finding his prize. Only, he doesn’t count on her being a dragon shaper and that she wants the Grail for her own people.
Oh, yes, searching for the Grail isn’t easy—especially with Earth’s greatest enemy after the prize as well…

A Dragon of Legend is on sale for only $0.99 until the 15th!

“A sexy, exciting futuristic series.” Bookloons.com

The Pendragon Legacy, Book 1: Lucan

Legend, love, and honor collide . . .

For Lucan Roarke, failure is not an option. If he fails, Earth perishes. Ancient clues have led him to the planet Pendragon, the last known resting place of the mythical Holy Grail—Earth’s last chance.

Lady Cael, high priestess and the only dragonshaper on her world, is destined to live a life untouched by love and mate. When she agrees to aid Lucan in his desperate search, she must fight the passionate attraction growing between them. She’s been less than truthful, and if they succeed in recovering the Grail, she will be honor bound to betray Lucan. And Earth.

When Cael finally admits the terrifying truth, she shatters Lucan and threatens his mission. To save humanity, he must make a catastrophic choice.

Will he choose honor or love?

Meet the Author

It’s release week for our newest author, Paula Millhouse, so we wanted to know more about her and her book, Hunters’ Watch Brigade: Initiation. (Publishing Friday, March 9th!)

Who are you and what do you write?
I’m Paula Millhouse, and I write stories where fantasy, romance, and suspense collide. My latest series, the Hunters’ Watch Brigade, tells the stories of monster-hunters who police the universe for bad supernaturals.

Tell us what you love about your story?
In the first book of the series, HWB: Initiation, I love how my heroine Samantha digs deep to rescue her mother from a witch with a vendetta. The action was fun to write, but the family elements I wove through each of the stories stole the show. Yes, it’s urban fantasy with tons of amazing magic and a heavy dose of paranormal romance on the side, but my characters struggle with family issues like we all do. My characters prove the theme, love is worth fighting for.

Describe your antagonist.
Francesca Rosencratz, a very powerful witch, wants Sam’s head on a spike. Francesca’s a scorned woman who wants revenge. She’s not above commiserating with vampires to make Sam’s life a living hell.

Why does your heroine have to deal with your antagonist?
When Francesca kidnaps Sam’s mother Helmina, Sam will stop at nothing to get her back. From the shores of Key West, to Poseidon’s undersea palace, all the way to the streets of Manhattan, Sam and her familiar, Max, are in a race against time to stop Francesca and her henchmen from destroying the Hunters’ Watch Brigade.

What’s the black moment in your story?
For Sam, it’s when she realizes she’ll have to give up on her romance with Max, the love of her life, in order to protect him from Francesca and her allies.

What specifically does your heroine learn from your antagonist?
The value of family, and the power of collaboration. Sam learns justice does exist, love is worth fighting for, and happy ever afters are possible, even for supernaturals.

Want to know more?

Hunters’ Watch Brigade: Initiation is available now for preorder!

Hunters’ Watch Brigade, Book 1

It’s never just another day at the office . . .

Demigod Samantha Silverton, a full-time monster hunter in the Hunters’ Watch Brigade, is on a mission with her familiar, Max, to hunt down a scorned mermaid when she finds out she has bigger fish to fry. Her mother—a powerful witch—has been abducted. And the most likely villain is her mother’s enemy, Francesca Rosencratz.

Being a familiar to a sexy monster hunter has its perks, but Max wants more. He might look like a cat, but he’s also Sam’s best friend . . . and the man who loves her. But in order to defeat Francesca, he’ll have to shift into his human form, something he’s avoided. Because once he’s officially a shifter, he’ll have to join the Brigade. And that could take him away from Sam for good.

But Francesca’s becoming increasingly dangerous. She and a mysterious ally are working to take down the Brigade, and take over the paranormal community. Sam will have to dig deep if she’s going to save her mom. But Max will have to risk even more . . . to save Sam.

When supernatural creatures go rogue, who are you going to call?

The Hunters’ Watch Brigade!

Paula Millhouse was born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, where Spanish moss whispers tales in breezes from the Atlantic Ocean to her soul. As a child, she soaked in the sunshine and heritage of cobblestones, pirate lore, and stories steeped in savory mysteries of the South.

She lives in the mountains now, but honors her Southern heritage as a story teller by sharing high-heat adventures with her readers. Escape your daily routine with books where justice does exist, true love is worth fighting for, and happily ever afters are expected. paulamillhouse.com

The Test of Time,

 But That Was Yesterday

by Kathleen Eagle

The popularity of e-books has given multi-published authors the chance to offer their best previously-published books to readers in a medium that wasn’t available when the book first came out. Wow! It’s a whole new century, new millennium, new technology . . .

But is it a new ball game? Readers tell me that they love the portability, the convenience of storing a whole library in a gadget that fits in a pocket or purse. I celebrate the chance to make improvements before the book goes into the gadget.

Every writer who’s experienced the thrill of getting that box in the mail knows the feeling. The box contains the story she’s lived with for months in physical book form. She’s poured sweat and tears into this baby. Blood? Metaphorically, maybe. But definitely sweat and tears. Writing is hard work. And here’s the reward. It’s a real book. She takes a copy out of the box, pets the cover as if it might return her affection at last with some kind of contented sound, turns back the cover, and joins in the act of conjuring up images from the words on the page.

Wait a minute. Did I write that? I love it. I can’t believe it came from me. It has its own life. It belongs to readers now. It’s on its own. And it’s good. It draws me in. It’s as if . . .

Wait a minute. Did I write that? Can I grab it back one more time and change a few words? Right here, it’s just one sentence too many. Or too few. I can do better.

So the e-book—the whole new medium—that’s my chance. I’ve written many books since I finished But That Was Yesterday, and even though I won praise and awards for the book years ago, I know I’m technically a much better writer now. Am I a better storyteller?

I write from character, and I love the characters in this story. Sage Parker still breaks my heart and then puts the pieces back together. I love the story—the setting, the plot, the themes—all still there. I remember doing the research on how to build roads—Sage’s job. The wonderful friend who worked for the ND Department Of Transportation has since passed away, but the inspiration he gave me lives on in a book that I’ve revised more for style than for story. I didn’t change the setting. Every story is a moment in some time, lives lived in some place.

When the storyteller brings the audience to that time and place, the game isn’t new. It’s timeless.

But That Was Yesterday is on sale for $1.99 until January 31st!

Serving Up Holiday Cheer

by Kathleen Eagle

Isn’t it strange that when you’re a kid it takes forever for the holidays to roll around from one calendar to the next, but the older you get, the faster they roll? And the more holiday memories you collect, the more nostalgic you become. You’re driving down the road and you hear the first few notes of your father’s favorite Christmas song. You get all misty. The road better not be the interstate–or the turnpike where I grew up–because misty can turn to waterworks in a hurry, and windshield wipers don’t do anything for eyeballs. When you’re a child, it’s all about anticipation. For an adult, memories become part of the joy. We recreate the look and the sound and the scent of holiday magic the soft, glowing way we remember it and the way we hope it will be for our children and our children’s children.

Which is why we tell stories. We save up, and we shop. We clean, and we cook. We decorate, and we practice our songs and our plays. But without the stories, these traditions won’t be remembered. The storyteller’s gift is precious. During the holidays, it is memory.

THE SHARING SPOON is a collection of three novellas. They’re romantic, of course, and the characters are fictitious, but they’re built on some of my memories. “The Wolf and the Lamb” is a Western. I’ve loved Westerns since I was a child, and guess what: So has my cowboy. One of our theme songs could be “My Baby Loves the Western Movies.” (I guess I’m dating myself, but that’s okay. Memories are never out of date.)  In “The Twelfth Night” some of my Lakota husband’s childhood memories come into play. And in “The Sharing Spoon“–a contemporary Thanksgiving tale–memories of our move to Minnesota helped me create a fun and fanciful story using the American Indian magnet school that recruited my husband. True story: a family walked into the office, and the dad slapped the book that contained the original version of “The Sharing Spoon” on the counter. “Is this the school in this book?” he asked. The secretary carefully, cautiously explained that the story was fiction. “But the author’s husband is a teacher here,” she said. “Sign my kids up,” was the man’s response. The secretary herself told me this story, and she’s sticking to it. Sweet, huh?

I hope you’ll grab “The Sharing Spoon” while it’s on sale. I’ve heard from several readers who say that re-reading it has become an annual tradition for them. That, too. is as sweet as hot chocolate with a peppermint stirring stick. May your holidays taste even sweeter!

Make your Thanksgiving sweet! Pick up THE SHARING SPOON today!

Sleeping Beauty in Regency London?

A Devilish Slumber is Book 1 of The Rue Alliance series. Each of these three fairytale-inspired Regency romances have a paranormal twist.

What inspired the first book? It is a given that I love fairy tales, but I have always been particularly fascinated by Sleeping Beauty.

What woman isn’t touched by the romantic concept of a kiss from her true love bringing her back to life? And to have it happen in Jane Austen’s Regency London was a story I couldn’t resist telling.

The trick with re-making a classic love story, however, is to instill a fresh perspective on an age-old tale. So, in A Devilish Slumber, I aimed for a unique take on what first startles awake this beauty, and what perils she will face once she is completely present in her sinister new world.

As for the resident villain, Maleficent, she goes by a different name. But then, evil often wears many different faces. And it certainly does in this shape shifter book, in which people can, literally, magically, change how they appear.

The hero in A Devilish Slumber is a spy and so has a fine hand at the art of lying himself. But Sir Phillip Jones’s most difficult task won’t be simply winning the heroine’s heart, which will prove difficult enough. No, he must also uncover who she really is, in this switched identity story that will keep him on his toes to the very last page.

Excerpt from A Devilish Slumber

“You do not trust me.”

The hurt in her eyes struck him like a blow, and he desperately sought his fast-retreating rage. “Have you given me reason to trust you, Rose? You would not confide in me about that note.”

“Oh, that note again!”

“You made an assignation. You could have been killed.”

“Why should I confide in you? It has been two years, eleven months and ten days since you abandoned me.” She clamped her mouth shut as if afraid she had said too much.

Indeed she had. As swiftly as his fury had crowded in, now joy took possession of his soul. She had counted the days he had been away. That knowledge offered so many delicious prizes, but her swollen eyes and flushed cheeks drew his gaze and concern claimed victory.

She had been crying.

He walked closer and caressed her hot cheek. “I have missed you, too.”

She slapped his hands away. “I did not lie about my affections, sir. Not everyone uses people and then discards them. That set of behavior is entirely yours.”

He tipped her face up, wanting to kiss her, to tell her that he loved her, and had never stopped. “Rose . . .”

Her lips thinned, suggesting any well-thought-out words would fall on deaf ears.

She had closed herself off to his explanations and excuses. Yet, that counting of days suggested his betrayal of her trust had not completely destroyed her love. As did her earlier jealousy of Miss Warwick. So, what he had not had the wherewithal to do three years ago on their parting, tonight he showed no hesitation.

He drew her to him. Her startled green eyes grew wide and her mouth opened, no doubt to argue with him. He stole that breath in a kiss. To his shock, at his gentlest persuasion, she invited him closer. Her lips tasted of syrup and parted like a cloud until his impromptu kiss became wildly intimate plunder.

He tugged her tighter, his hands exploring the luscious woman she had become. At their every touch point, his skin electrified while his pulse hammered in delight and sent his emotions spinning.

Her eyes shut tight, Rose moaned in approval and shuddered within his hold.

The soft knock might as well have been the thunder of Thor’s hammer.

Rose whirled away, presenting her exquisite back while she readjusted her gown that looked half undone with ribbons hanging loose. Had he done that?

About Shereen Vedam

Once upon a time, Shereen Vedam read fantasy and romance novels to entertain herself. Now she writes heartwarming tales braided with threads of magic and love and mystery elements woven in for good measure. She’s a fan of resourceful women, intriguing men, and happily-ever-after endings. If her stories whisk you away to a different realm for a few hours, then Shereen will have achieved one of her life goals.

Pick up the rest of Shereen Vedam’s titles from ImaJinn Books!

The Rue Alliance – Books Two and Three

A Beastly Scandal

Whisper of Shadows is the third book in my Diamond City Magic series. If you haven’t had a chance to look at them, they can be summed as:

In a world of diamonds, drugs, magical mafias, one woman must come out of the shadows, risking her life and even her soul, in order to protect her family and the man she loves.

Riley is the woman in the above description. She’s lived her whole live under the radar. She’s got a magical talent that is highly sought after by the mafia, the government, and anybody who’s every needed to find someone. She lives hand to mouth, taking small jobs and pretending to be a hack, while secretly using her talent to find kidnapped children.

Price is a cop. His brother runs one of the local mafias and Price does jobs for him sometimes. That connection alone makes believe he’s as corrupt as every other cop on the take–which is most of them. Riley’s been anonymously reporting the found children to him as in fact, he’s the least corrupt cop she’s every encountered.

She makes of point of trying not to let him notice her, but finds herself working with him, despite her best judgement. Their relationship is rocky. She’s been taught not to trust anybody, but especially cops and people associated with the magical mob. She frustrates Price because he knows she’s keeping secrets and he’s sure they could get her killed, and he desperately needs her help. He’s put between a rock and a hard place when he promises to protect Riley, and then his mafia king-pin brother demands that Price turn Riley over to him.

What I like about their relationship is that it’s based on a real appreciation and liking for one another. Price is alpha, but he’s not so alpha that he doesn’t realize he has to keep his autocratic tendencies under control if he wants to keep Riley in his life. She’s got a lot issues in her past that are coming back to haunt her–her mother’s murder and her father’s disappearance ten years later. She close to her step-mother and siblings, as well as a few friends, but she’s also a loner with a tendency to hold everybody at arm’s length.

In writing about these two didn’t want a lot of fights about stupid or predictable things. A lot of their difficulties have to do with how each of them work through their own troubled feelings. They both have to watch each other walk into danger (or run, as the case may be). They both have to make sacrifices and compromises to be together. They also have to figure out how to communicate with each other. Both have a habit of secrecy that that’s hard to overcome.

I like writing about Price and Riley. I like seeing their relationship grow and deepen. I like that their problems are natural and that a simple conversation doesn’t solve them. They take work and hard choices.

If you get a chance to pick up the Diamond City books about Riley and Price, I hope you enjoy and feel free to visit my website and drop me a line and tell me what you think: www.dianapfrancis.com  I’d love to hear from you.
 

About the Author:

Diana Pharaoh Francis is the acclaimed author of a dozen novels of fantasy and urban fantasy. Her books have been nominated for the Mary Roberts Rinehart Award and RT’s Best Urban Fantasy.Whisper of Shadows is the third book in her exciting new urban fantasy series–The Diamond City Magic Novels.

Writing a series about vampires can be a challenge, especially since the goal of any writer is to be fresh and come up with a new twist on a subject that’s been written about for centuries.  That’s exactly what I was thinking when I came up with the idea that my heroine, Jess Vandermire, would be a vampire cop in New York City and she’d hunt her own kind.  Jess’s baby brother, in his seventies, would be a Catholic priest and he’d partially save her soul, giving her the tiniest advantage over the darker vampires who had no control over their blood thirst.  How’s that for angst? Added to that, Jess can no longer practice her faith. That’s how the Jess Vandermire series started and has evolved over seven books, three of which I wrote last year. (Coming soon to ImaJinn Books!).

I’m pleased to tell Jess’s fans that there is a revelation and twist in each of the next three books that might surprise . . . AND WILL DEFINITELY SHOCK . . .  followers of the series. 🙂 Of course, the love of Jess’s “life”, John Brittain, plays an integral part of what happens in the new books, as well.

All this to say, there will be surprises coming in the series.  Big surprises!  Hope to hear from you.

Grave New Day is on sale now through March 15th for just $0.99! Don’t miss this great deal!

Lina Gardiner

www.linagardiner.com

About the Author:

Lina Gardiner, award-winning author of the Jess Vandermire Vampire Hunter Series, has writing in her blood.

Lina’s first book was published in 2007.  At every point along the way—before 2007 and since—she enjoys the daily routines of being an author: from conceiving an idea to writing and revising, from networking with other authors to attending workshops and learning sessions and, of course, holding that bright and shiny, newly published book in her hands—always the best experience ever.

Being a writer is a dream come true for Lina, but the friendships she’s forged with fellow authors and readers are the main perks.  Those friendships make that solitary job a richer and more rewarding experience.

Lina belongs to several writers’ groups and has served as a board member and in several chapter positions.

On the home front, Lina Lives in New Brunswick, Canada, a hot spot for legendary ghosts, tall tales and odd happenings, which probably add to her love of a good mystery. The spooky stories her grandfather told his grandchildren in the “parlor” when their grandmother wasn’t paying attention also sparked the wonders of imagination and a love of storytelling.

Walking the Story

By the time my debut historical novel, Keowee Valley, was published, I’d walked, hiked, trail run, swum, paddled, and climbed countless miles of rocks, roads, flatland and mountain trails, lakes and rivers in the foothills and mountains of Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Tennessee. Some of this, I’d done as a child, because my family were outdoorsy types. Most, however, I’d done on my own: both as a camp counselor and backpacking guide in my teens and 20s, and on adventures with like-minded friends well into my 30s, the age I am now. Always, and until her death in 2015, I was joined by my faithful trail partner: my dog, Scout.

I go (and went) to the woods—and the forest, the lake, the mountaintop, the river—to “live deliberately,” much the same as Thoreau did in the mid-1800s (minus the wood-chopping). The “woods” bring me back to myself; there is no place I feel more authentic.

The heart of my historical novel, Keowee Valley, takes place in the woods—in the forests of the Southern Appalachians. In fact, nearly every scene in the wilderness sections of the novel occur in real spots: scenery in which I’ve hiked, rivers I’ve paddled (and fallen into), trails I’ve traversed, in all kinds of weather. It is a land I know intimately. I know it as well as the pages of my own heart.

Every time I write a story, place—or setting, as some like to call it—plays a vital role, as important as any character. Maybe it’s the Southern writer in me? Southern writers are such, of course, because of their place. Mostly, I think, it’s because I can’t separate from the land, and neither can my characters. After all, in Keowee Valley, Quinn falls head over heels in love with the dangerous, gorgeous, and wild Cherokee backcountry long before she ever lays eyes on the equally dangerous (and gorgeous, and wild) Jack Wolf.

Bio:

Katherine Scott Crawford is a novelist, newspaper columnist, college English teacher, hiker and mom who lives in the mountains of Western North Carolina. Her parenting and outdoor life column appears weekly in The Greenville News (South Carolina), and is often picked up by other newspapers across the country. She holds far too many degrees in English and writing, chases her children frequently through the Pisgah National Forest, and is currently at work (when she’s actually sitting down) on her next historical novel.

Pick up Keowee Valley by Katherine Scott Crawford today for just $1.99!

“A glorious debut from a gifted author.” – Adriana Trigiani, bestselling author of Big Stone Gap and The Shoemaker’s Wife

“Keowee Valley is a terrific first novel by Katherine Scott Crawford–a name that should be remembered. She has a lovely prose style, a great sense of both humor and history, and she tells about a time in South Carolina that I never even imagined.” –Pat Conroy, bestselling author of The Prince of Tides and South of Broad.

On the edge of the wilderness, her adventure began.

She journeyed into the wilderness to find a kidnapped relative. She stayed to build a new life filled with adventure, danger, and passion.
Spring, 1768. The Southern frontier is a treacherous wilderness inhabited by the powerful Cherokee people. In Charlestown, South Carolina, twenty-five-year-old Quincy MacFadden receives news from beyond the grave: her cousin, a man she’d believed long dead, is alive–held captive by the Shawnee Indians. Unmarried, bookish, and plagued by visions of the future, Quinn is a woman out of place . . . and this is the opportunity for which she’s been longing.
Determined to save two lives, her cousin’s and her own, Quinn travels the rugged Cherokee Path into the South Carolina Blue Ridge. But in order to rescue her cousin, Quinn must trust an enigmatic half-Cherokee tracker whose loyalties may lie elsewhere. As translator to the British army, Jack Wolf walks a perilous line between a King he hates and a homeland he loves.
When Jack is ordered to negotiate for Indian loyalty in the Revolution to come, the pair must decide: obey the Crown, or commit treason . . .