Disclaimer

DISCLAIMER:

I do not read every book/author I spotlight or book tour I host!
Readers, Please research and use wisdom before buying

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Thursday Thoughts: Comfort

Everyone has their own idea of comfort and what/whom they turn to when they need comforting......

A burst of sunshine through dark clouds.
Rainbow after the storm.
A hot cup of coffee while listening to the pitter patter of raindrops on a tin roof.
A hug from your dearest friend or soul mate.
A warm blanket and good movie.
Chocolate, wine and ice cream.
The ebb and flow of 'normal' when circumstances are anything but.


But how often does life challenge us to step out of our comfort zone and what do you do when it does?


If you've known or followed me for long, you understand my first (well, sometimes the last) resort is to pray. The second part to that equation is surrender and third to trust.

God has it all under control.

So the next time you're feeling out of sorts and in need of a little comfort, get alone with Him and allow the lover of your soul to comfort you in a way no other can.

Something to think about...
"Inspirational with an Edge! 

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Tuesday Treasure: Egg-Cerpt Exchange with Lisa Carlisle

Good Morning Friends!

I know Easter ended two days ago but hey, why not enjoy one more Egg-cerpt Exchange. Today's guest is Lisa Carlisle with her book, Dark Velvet.

I'll be on Lisa's blog tomorrow too with Love is a Rose.

Lisa writes adult erotic romance so readers, be informed!

Without much further ado.... Here's Lisa.....


I'm here to share an excerpt of my recent release, Dark Velvet. This is the start of a new series of new adult erotic romances set on a remote New England island. Paranormal aspects, a medieval-styled castle, and a hot as hell hero.

Dark Velvet

Lisa Carlisle

Chateau Seductions series

darkvelvet

New adult / paranormal / erotic romance

Grad student Savannah Evans is thrilled to be accepted as a resident to a prestigious art colony. Where else would she be able to focus on her craft of writing poetry in a setting like that of the medieval-styled castle? The remote New England island is a respite from her hectic city life. When she meets her benefactor, a mysterious French sculptor, her expectations for carefree days writing near the ocean are distracted by unprofessional fantasies about her sponsor. Antoine Chevalier built Les Beaux Arts on DeRoche Island to bring purpose back to an existence that has lost meaning. He’s wandered the earth for decades and finds solace in returning to art. When Savannah applies for a residency, something about her words touches him. After her arrival, a physical attraction grows between them, which he struggles against. She deserves more than someone of his kind. Antoine proposes they become lovers during her stay. But the situation turns complicated when Savannah discovers his secret. She had suspicions about his identity, but finds the truth overwhelming. Consumed by her desire for Antoine and faced with a tough decision, she is blind to the danger that has arrived at DeRoche Island.

  Excerpt Savannah’s fingers traced the cool marble of the god’s muscular back and then the definition in his arm as he drew an arrow to shoot. She pictured Antoine bent over the sculpture, brows furrowed in concentration, losing sense of time as he polished each portion to perfection.

“Do you like this?” A deep voice whispering in her ear startled her.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, bumping back into his hard chest, and he caught her upper arms to steady her. Only one man in the castle spoke in that smooth French accent—the sculptor himself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Antoine.”

She fumbled taking a half step forward, away from him. “I shouldn’t have touched it.”

“No, don’t apologize.” He let go of her arms, but his warm breath tickled her ear.

He took her hand, caressing her palm, which sent tingles up her arm. Her bottom lip quivered as he brought her fingers to rest again on the marble piece. She thanked the gods he remained behind her so he couldn’t witness her nervous reaction, and she bit her lip to halt the tremors. This was not the way for a young protégée to behave in front of her benefactor. He owned the castle, created the art colony here where she was attending on a poetry scholarship—she shouldn’t go gaga simply from his touch. Which was exactly what she was doing.

“It pleases me that you appreciate my work.” Leading her fingers down the figure’s chiseled chest, he leaned in closer and added, “I liked watching you admire it.”

His voice alone sent flames rippling through her. Every nerve in her being lit with awareness in reaction to him. In the months since they’d met, they’d never been alone in such proximity. Weeks of heated looks from afar had inflamed her desire so the slightest touch became intimate, strengthening her need for more.

Sounds of approaching voices indicated this evening’s performance in the chateau would soon begin. Several of the musicians in the art colony had collaborated on orchestral pieces they wanted to play in front of an audience for the first time. As fellow artists in residence, they sought the support of fellow residents.

Antoine kissed her hand like a suitor in a bygone era. “I hope you enjoy the concert, Savannah.”

Her lips parted, opening and closing like a fish while she thought of what to say. When she mustered up the courage to turn and face him, he had already left the room, filling her with both relief and disappointment. Unaware she’d been holding her breath, she exhaled deeply.  


Several times over the course of the evening, Savannah caught Antoine’s dark eyes watching her. Her emotions roiled in confusion while the performers played Barber’s Adagio for Strings. The way he held her gaze without blinking made her squirm in the burgundy armchair. The rising tension and resolution from the violin and cello underscored her tumultuous emotions.

She smiled at him briefly and focused on the musicians, aware of how her heartbeat had escalated. When she glanced again at Antoine, he still watched her unabashed, as if unconcerned about what the others would think. He took a sip of Porto, nodded her way, and then returned his attention to the musicians. She sat up straighter and crossed her legs at the ankles, then uncrossed them, and crossed them again.

The attraction was becoming more difficult to ignore. In light of how he breached the physical distance by touching her so earlier, she feared she’d be unable to keep her desires hidden much longer. She’d developed an instant crush since she arrived at the castle three months before. How could she not be—he was a renowned sculptor with a devastating, dark appeal. What was she to him than just another young resident who would be gone in three months, replaced by another.

Was she reading more into the brief exchange than was warranted?

 It’s just a look. Only a casual glance my way. Even as she attempted to fool herself, she knew she was full of shit.

Buy links: Amazon B&N Kobo AllRomanceEbooks

Lisa Carlisle Dark heroes, feisty heroines, scorching stories

Sign up for new releases and specials at lisacarlislebooks.com/subscribe

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Saturday Spotlight: Susan Oleksiw

Good Morning Friends and Happy Easter to Each of YOU!

Thank you for taking a moment out of your holiday weekend to stop by. It is my pleasure to bring to you another fellow 5 Star author, Susan Oleksiw with her Anita Ray Mystery book, Under the Eye of Kali.



Every time someone asks me where I get my ideas, I instantly have an image of the person opening a notebook, writing it down, and then checking her calendar, so she can plan to go there, wherever “there” is and pick up some ideas, along with stopping for yogurt at the supermarket and the post office for stamps. I am tempted to say, “I subscribe to a magazine called IDEAS.” Or how about, “I steal them from my grandmother’s stash. She never used hers up.”

The truth is, no one knows where ideas come from because they don’t come from somewhere else. They are there, in front of us, in our brains, or sitting on the page open on the computer or rolled into the typewriter. And, again, truthfully, I wish there were someplace to go to get them. The discovery of Anita Ray is a case in point.

For several years I had tried writing about India, and whatever I wrote came out miserably. The story was awkward, the characters alien or flat or just strange. I couldn’t get the hang of a good story about India. I was frustrated. Perhaps I was too close to the idea? After all I’d been in love with India since I was a young girl; I’d studied the country and its culture and history all through school (I went to advanced schools). I’d lived there, written academic articles about it. Perhaps I was having trouble finding a popular India to write about.

After several false starts I decided to just write a mystery that hinged on something interesting about India. The result was the short story “A Murder Made in India.” And in this story emerged Anita Ray, the unmarried niece of the owner of Hotel Delite, a young woman who would rather take photographs than eat, who hated the idea of work, and who had managed to fend off her aunt’s ongoing efforts at an arranged marriage. The story was a success, it seemed, and appeared in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine in 2003. I had loads of fun writing stories about India in which Anita Ray wielded her camera and investigated murders among relatives, friends, and strangers. The idea for the first story, when traditional India collides with modern India, pointed to an unlimited supply of mysteries.

Once Anita Ray as a character was established in my mind, along with circumstances that could lead to murder, I had little trouble expanding her stage, so to speak. I made one of my many return visits to India working out in my mind a story idea that would be substantial enough for a novel-length mystery. As I sat at breakfast one morning listening to other Westerners enjoying their meal and getting to know each other, the idea for the novel began to take shape. Strangers meet, share a few personal details, and soon are linked in an intricate web of lies, deceit, and murder.

Under the Eye of Kali appeared in 2010. The story takes the reader into Anita Ray’s world of a resort catering to foreigners where old grudges are acted out, the workers behind the scenes live double lives, and anyone can assume a new identity. The reader meets the restaurant owners, the tailors and booksellers, the touts and fruit sellers, and all the others who work mostly out of sight but are ever present. The murder occurs among foreign guests, and the reader gets to know them too, and enjoy their experiences in this strange land.

As I began writing the story of two women who travel through India, one of whom ends up dead and the other nearly so, I heard the voices of people I’d met long ago, during my first visits to India in the 1970s and 1980s. Out of the blue I heard the young man, probably still in his twenties, asking about how a certain sports team was doing back in the States. In those days, news about local matters traveled slowly if at all. Prompted by the curious way he posed the question I asked how long since he’d been home to the States. Something distracted me, and when I turned back he was gone. In less than a minute he evaporated. My husband commented, he was probably AWOL from Vietnam and my question had spooked him. I’ve never forgotten him, and more of that encounter will probably appear in another story, triggered by a character who makes an offhand remark and opens a door to murder.

This is where ideas come from—everywhere and nowhere, and somewhere we can’t find but we stumble into when we need it.

Under the Eye of Kali is the first in the Anita Ray series, and explores Anita’s home territory of the resort area where Hotel Delite is located. The Wrath of Shiva is the second in the series, and takes Anita into an old family estate. I’ll talk about the ideas behind that book next month.

To learn more about Susan and her books, go to www.susanoleksiw.com

Her books are available through Five Star/Gale, Cengage Learning and on Amazon, B&N, and Smashwords.

Well Friends, hope you enjoyed this spotlight. Thanks again for taking the time to stop by and once again....

Have a BLESSED & Happy Easter holiday!

PamT

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Thursday Thoughts: Faith

Well today is Holy Thursday or Passover Thursday or the day Jesus celebrated His Last Supper with His disciples....

Whatever you call it, today is often revered as a Holy day and in some denominations, a Holy day of obligation.

But shouldn't every day be a holy day of obligation?

Shouldn't we praise, worship and honor God and Jesus every day?






Isn't that what Faith is all about?

Something to think about....

PamT

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Tuesday Treasure: Egg-cerpt Exchange with Linda McLaughlin!

Well Friends it's Holy Week and we're reaching the end of Tina Gayle's Egg-cerpt Exchange blog hop. I'll have one more for you next week, but today is Ms. Linda McLaughlin with her book, Lady Elinor's Escape.

Enjoy....


Lady Elinor's Escape, part of the Eggcerpt Exchange fun.
Genre: Sweet Regency Romance

Blurb:

Lady Elinor Ashworth always longed for adventure, but when she runs away from her abusive aunt, she finds more than she bargained for. Elinor fears her aunt who is irrational and dangerous, threatening Elinor and anyone she associates with. When she encounters an inquisitive gentleman, she accepts his help, but fearing for his safety, hides her identity by pretending to be a seamstress. She resists his every attempt to draw her out, all the while fighting her attraction to him.

There are too many women in barrister Stephen Chaplin’s life, but he has never been able to turn his back on a damsel in distress. The younger son of a baronet is a ‘rescuer’ of troubled females, an unusual vocation fueled guilt over his failure to save the woman he loved from her brutal husband. He cannot help falling in love with his secretive seamstress, but to his dismay, the truth of her background reveals Stephen as the ineligible party.

Now the Eggcerpt:

“Excuse me, madam, but I could not help overhearing you say that you must leave for London immediately. Allow me to introduce myself. Stephen Chaplin, Esquire, at your service.”

Elinor turned to face the gentleman who had suddenly appeared. She stared at him through a haze of black, taking advantage of her veil to get a closer look at this tall, dark-haired, seemingly well bred gentleman. He was above average height, with finely chiseled features, and while he could not, strictly speaking, be deemed handsome, there was something in the intense scrutiny of his light brown eyes that drew her to him. By the cut of his bottle green Superfine coat, which emphasized his broad shoulders, but was not so tight as to hamper movement, and his casually tied neckcloth, she surmised he was no society dandy.

“How do you do?” she said politely, extending one black-gloved hand.

“Fine, thank you.”

As he took her hand and bowed over it, Elinor savored the warmth of his touch for a moment. It had been a long time since someone had touched her out of kindness. Suddenly realizing she was clutching his hand, she withdrew hers. He studied her, his gaze seeming to penetrate the veil, and she could only stand like the veriest lump under his scrutiny.

“I beg your pardon, madam, but what did you say your name was?”

“Eli—” Elinor broke off and feigned a cough, panic bubbling up inside. Her name. Dear heavens, she needed a new name. If she told him who she was, he would never agree to take her to Mimi. She stared down at the gentleman’s yellow nankeen trousers and shiny brown boots. “Brown,” she stammered. “Ellie Brown.”

“Mrs. Brown, may I offer my assistance? I’m heading for London myself and would be pleased to convey you as far as Chippenham, where you may pick up another stage coach.”

Relief flooded through her at his offer, but could she trust him? No proper young lady rides in a closed carriage with a gentleman who is not related to her. The words of her governess rang in her ears. “I do not think—”

“Of course, you are cautious,” he interrupted smoothly. “Any genteel lady would hesitate to trust a strange gentleman.”

"But I am not a lady,” she blurted. If Aunt Sarah learned that a ‘lady’ had been here, she would know where to look for her. “I am merely a seamstress.”

"Really,” he drawled, doubt evident in his tone.

“Yes, I have a position awaiting me in London.” She was surprised, and a bit uncomfortable, at how easily the lies flowed from her lips, but they were necessary.

Lady Elinor's Escape
is available at:
Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00CHSNEII
Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/lady-elinors-escape/id645217449
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ladyelinor039sescape-1169382-160.html
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lady-elinors-escape-linda-mclaughlin/1100559263
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/lady-elinor-s-escape
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/312406

Online Contacts:
Website: http://www.lindamclaughlin.com
Blog: http://flightsafancy.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LindaMcLaughlinAuthor
Twitter @LyndiLamont: https://twitter.com/LyndiLamont

Thanks for letting me share.

Linda