#SaturdaySpotlight is on Sloan McBride & The Treasure

Good Morning and a COLD one it is here in SW LA!

I hope you're warm and cozy wherever you are. I'm doing my best to stay comfortable. Laundry is going, sitting with grand babies (although 15 & 10 deem then no longer 'babies' LOL!) and bringing you the latest Saturday Spotlight. If you're a subscriber to my newsletter, watch for a very special announcement Monday the 11th (and here's a quick SALUTE to all Veterans and their families out there!!) .... lots of new stuff coming so if you're not a subscriber, join now. 

Also, the huge, Thankful for Our Readers giveaway ends tomorrow so enter the contest today.

I introduced Sloan McBride to you last month on Wednesday Words with Friends. Today she gives us a peek into her novel, The Treasure.

Take it away Sloan!

‘A Pirate’s Life for Me,’ that is Celeste’s plan. Revenge drives her to be daring. Attacks by smoke demons, and the appearance of a swashbuckling rogue—a handsome rogue with magickal powers—detracts her from the mission and reveals frightening truths about her family.

Orion is a time walker—a protector of the human race—and warrior against the Underworld King and his minions. The shadowy creatures seek the young woman who has the blood of the gods running through her veins. Orion senses something mysterious—and wrong—in Celeste’s blood.

Time Walker law dictates no interaction with humans, but Orion can’t stay away. Celeste has the uncanny ability to draw demons and time walkers, alike. To protect her, Orion must keep her hidden from the Underworld and his own people. Should the gods discover her secret, they will destroy her, and he won’t let that happen. 

Excerpt: “My blood?” Celeste squeaked.

“It’s what draws them to you.” They approached a house on vast private land. He grabbed her arm. “Wait.”

Orion released the cinch on his powerful senses. When certain of no immediate danger he said, “Let’s get inside.”

“What do you mean my blood draws them?”

He heard Celeste’s heartbeat quicken, smelled the sweat beading on her skin.

A sharp knock had the door opening to a startled elderly man. Orion quickly drew a sword.

Rushing to the man’s side Celeste cried, “No! Rafael is family to me.”

Orion sheathed his weapon, turned, and latched the door. To the gentleman he said, “Go through and check the entire place to make sure all the windows and doors are secured.”

“Please do as he asks, Rafael.”

Rafael frowned, but left to carry out the duties.

“This way,” she said and led him to a quiet room. “Please be seated.” She settled herself on a padded chair, hands fidgeting in her lap. “So tell me about these soldiers.”

This human knew more than she should. The go’ras—mind swipe—erased memories or at least that was its function. Yet it had not worked on her. “You never explained why you were aboard a pirate vessel dressed as a boy.”

“’Tis business of my own.”

Evasion and more nervousness. His long legs carried him around the room as he examined the fine wooden furniture, the elaborate paisley curtains, and fingered petals of flowers flowing from a vase on the table. One hand held a sculpted dagger with precise balance, and a specially crafted blade. He tossed it in the air catching the handle every time.

In French, he said, “I hear a French accent when you speak. Is that where you were raised?”

She rose. “Why do you expect answers and yet give none yourself?”

“It may be important.” He strode to her, stopping with only inches separating them. The dagger flipped in the air. The heat from her body seeped through the silk fabric of his shirt. Her blood seduced him in ways he’d never experienced.

Flip. Flip.

“Must you continue tossing that knife? It unnerves me,” she said.

“Your scent is unusual.” He reached up and released the comb tangled in her hair. The long curly tresses fell to delicate shoulders. He grabbed a handful and brought it to his nose. It was not human hair. A wig? Curious.

Breathlessly, she said, “What are you doing?”

He dropped the hair and with the same hand caressed her cheek. “Trying to discern what makes you so alluring.” He leaned forward and brushed the side of her neck with his nose and lips. A gut-wrenching need roared to life, encouraging him to rid their bodies of barriers and delve into the forbidden.

“I do not understand.”

Frowning, he said, “Neither do I.” He pulled back, needing the distance to think clearly.

This was a damnably odd situation. He flipped the dagger end over end. She was a direct descendant of Lord Sin, the Moon God. The blood scent was strong and it flowed with mysticism and magick.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all.  Okay, the answer was never me, but a girl can dream, can't she?  I grew up with fairytales and happy ever after, so it stands to reason that when I write, I make sure my characters have their happy ending.  It may not always be what you'd expect, but it works for them. 

I write romance, no doubt about it.  I can't imagine writing anything else.  I'm a hopeless romantic, or a hopeful one.  Either way, readers get the hope.

My books delve into the paranormal romance, romantic suspense, time travel, gypsies, tramps, and thieves.  Oh sorry, I went off into my music zone for a minute.  I have fantasy, mythology, and I try to make it all relate to the everyday.

Thanks for your interest.  Happy Reading!!!!

You can also find me here:

Website:          http://www.sloanmcbride.com/

Twitter:           https://twitter.com/SloanMcBride1

Facebook:        https://www.facebook.com/sloan.mcbride

Blog:               http://sloanmcbride.blogspot.com/

Smashwords:   https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sloanmcbride

Amazon:          http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0035TI960

Goodreads:     https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1649189.Sloan_McBride

LinkedIn:        http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=125437471&trk=tab_pro

WOW, what an excerpt! Sloan deems The Treasure as a sensual read so, readers take note if you run over to her website to purchase The Treasure or any of her other books.

I hope you enjoyed today's spotlight and that you'll check back each week to see what we're talking about on Wednesday Words with Friends and who is in our Spotlight!

Until next time, take care and God bless.

PamT

#WednesdayWordswithFriends Guest: Sloan McBride

Good Morning!

Well, fall fell here in SW LA...for now anyway we are enjoying cooler nights and milder days and I am SO happy about that! I'm more of a Summer person but I'm d-o-n-e with high 90's that feel like triple digits!

I hope you enjoyed DiAnn's visit yesterday and the treasure she shared. Today's guest is new to me and our blog so without much further ado please welcome Sloan McBride to share a few words with us....

So a couple of weeks ago I moved my daughter to Tennessee.  She is a writer, but her first love is music so she combines her writing and her music. I support both my children in absolutely everything they do and always try to find a positive, bright side to anything.  No matter how much you want them to succeed, and how proud you are of them for trying it’s hard not to miss them terribly when they are gone.  If I had my way (and all the money in the world) I’d own many acres of land where I’d build a plantation-type house (I don’t need anything too BIG), and houses for my kids. We’d have an animal preserve with a huge lake (and slide for the penguins), and full film studio (for my son).  But, alas, that’s a pipe dream.  You have to let them go out into the world and live their lives.

This is the link to my book page on my website where all my books are along with links to all the sites where they are available in every format.  https://sloanmcbride.com/books.html

Bio: Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all.  Okay, the answer was never me, but a girl can dream, can't she?  I grew up with fairytales and happy ever after, so it stands to reason that when I write, I make sure my characters have their happy ending.  It may not always be what you'd expect, but it works for them. 

I write romance, no doubt about it.  I can't imagine writing anything else.  I'm a hopeless romantic, or a hopeful one.  Either way, readers get the hope.

My books delve into the paranormal romance, romantic suspense, time travel, gypsies, tramps, and thieves.  Oh sorry, I went off into my music zone for a minute.  I have fantasy, mythology, and I try to make it all relate to the everyday.

Thanks for your interest.  Happy Reading!!!!

You can also find me here:

Website:          http://www.sloanmcbride.com/

Twitter:           https://twitter.com/SloanMcBride1

Facebook:        https://www.facebook.com/sloan.mcbride

Blog:               http://sloanmcbride.blogspot.com/

Smashwords:   https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sloanmcbride

Amazon:          http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0035TI960

Goodreads:     https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1649189.Sloan_McBride

LinkedIn:        http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=125437471&trk=tab_pro

Wow, Sloan, how right you are...we have to let our children go and grow and make their own place and way in this world. Thank you SO much for sharing with us. We certainly wish you the best of luck and God's blessings.

PamT and Friends

#WednesdayWordswithFriends with Tina Fausett

Good Morning!

Today we're visiting with a guest that has not appeared on our blog before so please welcome Tina Fausett who writes Erotic Paranormal books!

Thanks for having me. I'm Tina Fausett and I’m a writer. Life happens then I write. I’ve been very fortunate to have had so many wonderful adventures and to have lived in California, Texas, Oklahoma, Mississippi and New Orleans, the place I love most (next to my front porch), and I incorporate them all in my books. I write about love, romance, heartbreak, erotica, family, friends, the government, the IRS, the users, losers and abusers…the haters, naysayers and people who want to suck the life right out of you. I try to get real. I write from experience. I write from life. I write about depression and elation, relationships and loneliness…the good, the bad, the ugly and the exquisite and beautiful. I even write about how life can be so “daily”.

I have two grown children, Autumn Abernathy and Zachary McCall. And there’s my granddaughter, Rhiannon Elizabeth, preparing for her last year of college. I am so proud of them and they are my life. I’ve owned an antique store, art gallery and pickle company that I use in my series 'A Shift in the Universe' (Swamp Witch Pickles). I’ve had battles and failures but have had to pick myself up and keep going. I've been married twice and twice divorced. I’ve traveled to amazing places. I’ve loved, I’ve been hurt, and my hearts been broken so many times, I often wonder if it can be made whole again, yet I’m always grateful. I’m no different from anyone else out there. Everyone's got a story, and I love to sit on my porch with friends and family and hear them. I am so often humbled and awed.

Now, I write books and I’m doing a blog to share stories, hopefully inspire and give hope.

I took a break from writing for a few months and one of my friends noticed a post about a book of mine on Facebook. She commented, "I see you're back to writing."

I responded, "Yes, I can only handle small breaks. It's like holding your breath as long as you can, but you finally have to let it out and start breathing again."

That's how I feel about writing.

~~~~

Wow, Tina! I do believe that's how most of us feel about writing and it is SO wonderful to get back to it after a break, isn't it?! Now please tell us a little about your book.

A jealous, malevolent wife hooked on prescription drugs, a husband caught between reality and carnal fantasies, and an angel cast from heaven, are all bound together by their hatred for one woman whose spells and manifestations catch them in a downward spiral towards hell...Gina Faulkner, thought to be a voodoo queen, owner of Swamp Witch Pickles in New Orleans, is the center of it all.

Bane Colton, dangerous and cocky, sees Gina at the French Market and the game is on. He makes up his mind he's going to break the feisty redhead with the infamous kinky reputation, body and soul. And Gina's ready to be a player, until Bane’s estranged and demented wife, Beverly, wants him back.

Enter enigmatic Darsh, known to many as the Angel of Death, who’s watched over Gina since she was fifteen and has loved her almost as much as he’s hated her. Now they would come face to face. He could save her from certain peril, but could never save her from herself. Would she destroy them all and remain an unbroken beauty? At the very least, a shift in the universe was coming.

Excerpt: 

He left the car and walked across the street. Running his hand over the wrought iron gate, he remembered how she’d called to him with her eyes, like a siren in Greek mythology, luring him in. Even at that tender age, she posed the threat of impending doom, standing in her pink, low-cut disco dress, her breasts pushed up to show an ample cleavage, without exposing the nipples. Her coppery-red hair was wild and tantalizing, her face innocent and sensuous all at the same time, the sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks delectable, as she stood rocking on platform heels.

He looked up at the porch, and the original gas lamp was still flickering after all these years, just like it had the night they stood gazing into each other’s eyes. He took a deep breath of the air, filled with all the heady scents of laurel, gardenia, tuberose, ginger, orange blossoms, and dozens of other flowers, and was filled with sadness. He wished he could be that boy again, knowing what he knew now. If he could go back, he would whisk her into his arms and take her away…he would have saved her from herself. But God didn’t give do-overs.

He sighed and looked at the capitals of the columns, as he used to do and, suddenly, it hit him. One was slightly different than the other three. He hadn’t seen it before. Does age make us see more clearly? Shaking his head, he answered his own question. It couldn’t. When I looked at Gina today, I saw her just like I had back then, an unbroken beauty, who needs saving from certain peril.

Wow, sounds like an amazing story Gina! We certainly wish you good luck and God's blessings with it.

Hope you enjoyed this week's edition of Wednesday Words with Friends and that you'll check back weekly for more interesting visits with friends and of course, Saturday Spotlight.

Meanwhile, connect with Tina on her Blog, FB, Twitter @TinaFausett & FB Author Page  @tinafausettauthor and get your copy of Unbroken Beauty at Amazon.

Until next time take care and God Bless!
PamT

#SaturdaySpotlight is on Icy Snow Blackstone & Runaway Brother

Hello December!

Not sure if I'm ready or not but this year is winding down fast. One thing I AM happy about is that Medicare AEP ends in 1 week and boy am I ready! It's been a good season but I'm ready for the madness to stop LOL!

Today's guest, brought by Class Act Books, is new to me so please welcome Icy Snow Blackstone as she enters the spotlight for today - Welcome Icy!

Icy Snow Blackstone was born in 1802, in northern Georgia where her father, the Reverend John Blackstone, was prominent in local politics.  She married a minister, raised seven children, and lived there all her life.

Two hundred and five years later, her great-great-great-great-granddaughter began using her name as a pseudonym for her romance novels. The present Icy Snow Blackstone lives far from her Southern roots in Lancaster County, Nebraska, where she continues to write romances. 

As of 2017, Icy Snow has eleven novels published by Class Act Books. Her contemporary romance, Tuesday’s Child, was given the Paranormal Romance Guild’s Reviewers Choice award for Best Contemporary Novel of 2014. A SciFi romance, Earthman’s Bride and Vietnam-era romance Jericho Road, have also received awards.

At the age of twenty-two, newly-graduated Nicolo Liguori is forced by his three brothers to become care-giver for his father, who suffered multiple strokes.  For the next ten years, Nick gives up his own ambitions , working during the day in the family jewelry business in Vanderhoek, New York, and returning to the Liguori mansion every night, to be at his father’s beck-and-call. Then Papa dies and Nick is free…or is he?  Carlo, Marco, and Pietro expect him to continue life as usual, but Nick has other ideas.  Secretly buying a motorcycle, he starts to work one day and… disappears.

Nick gets as far as the southern coast of Georgia before an accident disables his bike.  Stranded, with no idea of the South except what he’s seen on TV, Nick isn’t certain what kind of reception he’s going to get.  Then, a pretty Southern miss and a white tank disguised as a temperamental horse named Shazam change his life as they and the citizens of Oceano teach a runaway Yankee about life and love in a small Georgia town.

EXCERPT: 

The track was getting narrower, barely two ruts now with a width of slender, wiry grass separating them.  He slowed the bike.  Don’t want to get that stuff caught in the spokes and stall the engine.

Nick raised his head, looking around, then gave a loud sigh of exasperation.  Okay!  So I’m lost!  He’d just follow the road to wherever it went, probably to some farmer’s front yard.  When he got there, he’d apologize, turn around and get himself back to the main drag.  If he could find it.

A broken branch loomed ahead, and he turned his attention to it, guiding the bike around it.  

            A second branch and several twigs littered the roadway.  Nick was so concerned with maneuvering around them he didn’t see the horse sail over the fence, wasn’t even aware it was there until he looked up and found the white shape almost directly in front of him.

            He jerked the wheel to the right, forgetting to apply the rear brakes first.  The bike skidded, its back wheel rising off the ground as the front one stopped rolling.  He had a brief vision of the animal leaping forward, its rider clinging to its back, wide, frightened blue eyes, flying blonde hair...

            The motorcycle went off the road, sliding into the ditch and running up the other side, the front fender striking one of the fence posts.  It bounced and rebounded, and Nick went flying over the handlebars, flipping in mid-air and hitting the same post with his back. The bike wavered a moment, then toppled onto its side.  Nick slid down the post, landing upside down in the ditch, his shoulders crushing coffeeweed into an aromatic mass.

            The pounding hooves stopped.  He heard running footsteps, opened his eyes and saw someone running toward him.  He closed them again.

            “Are you hurt?”

            This time when he opened his eyes, he was staring at the upside-down face of a very pretty girl, at least she’d have been pretty if her face wasn’t screwed up into such a dismayed scowl.

            “Am I hurt?”  He managed a growl as he slid further into the weeds and rolled over.  “I just hit a fence and got tossed into a ditch!  What do you think?”  Clambering to his knees, while she plucked ineffectually at one arm, he jerked out of her grasp.  “I can get up by my—  Ow!” 

            He’d gotten upright, took a step, and his leg buckled, turning at the ankle   “Here.”  She slid into the ditch, offering a hand.  Reluctantly he took it, being careful not to put too much weight behind it as he let her pull him to his feet.  He could see she was worried and he really wasn’t hurt all that bad, but he was angry because she’d been so reckless.

            “What the Hell’s the matter with you?  Jumping in front of me like that!  If I’d hit that horse—”

            “What are you doing riding this road?  This is private property.”

            She was too pretty for him to pretend to stay angry at, so he toned it down, answering her question. “I got lost.  I only wanted to find the end of the road and turn around.”

            “You have a way to go.  The house is about a quarter of a mile that way.”  She nodded toward a group of pines thrust into the road, hiding the rest of it from sight. Nick looked in that direction, then back at her.  She, in turn, looked at the motorcycle, still on its side in the weeds.  “You seem okay.  Is that hurt?”

            Nick got down on one knee, feeling under the bike.  His hand came away wet.  He sniffed at his fingers. 

Gasoline. He pulled off one glove, exploring gingerly.  Something had punched a hole in the gas tank and gasoline was pouring into the grass.  He had no idea how, but it didn’t matter.  What did was that he wasn’t going anywhere as long as that hole was there.

            “Well?”  She appeared to be awaiting his diagnosis.

            He wiped his fingers on the seat of his jeans.  “Gas tank’s got a hole in it, clutch cable’s severed. Is there a motorcycle shop around here anywhere?”

            “No, but Marshall’s in town can probably repair it.  He does everything from lawn mowers to farm machinery.”

            Oh Lord, deliver me from small town handymen!  He was about to tell her he didn’t want Marshall touching his bike when he realized, What else am I going to do?  Do you have a better idea, Mr. Runaway?

            “So which way is town?”  He straightened, looked around as if expecting to see the city limits a few feet away.

            “Too far for you to push that thing,” she answered, gesturing at the front wheel.  “Not with it twisted like that.”

            “What do I do then, Miss Not-So-Helpful?  Since this is your fault—”

            “My fault?”  Hands went to her hips.  And deliciously slim ones they were, too.  Nick had a moment to think she looked anything but angry, though it was apparent she thought she did.  Cute, maybe.  Hell, he might even say adorable with those blonde wisps floating around her face, but angry?  Nope!  “Who’s the trespasser?  Who had his head down, studying the ground when he should’ve been looking straight ahead?”

            “You weren’t ahead of me,” he countered.  “You and that white tank of yours jumped a fence and came in from the side.”

            “Never mind.  Just let me get the bike upright and point me in the right direction, and—” 

“I’ll do no such thing.”  That made him stare at her, wondering if she was going to walk away, mount her white steed, and leave him stranded knee-deep in Kudzu or whatever-the-Hell these weeds were.  “I’ll ride back to the house and get my grandpa’s truck.  We”ll put the motorcycle in it.”

            She clambered up the bank, running toward the horse now was grazing on the other side of the road.  Catching the reins and a handful of mane, she swung into the horse’s back—very gracefully, he noted—then turned the animal’s head and trotted it back to him.

            “You stay right there,” she told him.  “I’ll be back in a jif!”  She kicked the horse in the ribs and sent it galloping down the road.

            Nick turned his attention back to the V-Rod.  It hadn’t moved.  Did he expect it to get up and limp over to him like a dog with a hurt paw, whimpering for sympathy?  Shaking his head, he leaned against the edge of the ditch, back against a fencepost.

            Welcome South, Brother!       

Runaway Brother can be purchased from the Publisher and Amazon.

Hope you enjoyed our guest today friends and that you'll check back regularly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight!

Until next time good luck and God's blessings.
PamT

#SaturdaySpotlight is on Lynn Crain & Avenging Angel!

Good Morning!

Well the year is officially half over today. A time when many reflect on their goals and purpose. I'm not going to do that because although I've had a stellar year so far, I'm not exactly where I want to be.....physically, spiritually, financially....but I'm happy and learning and growing and loving and appreciating my life!

Today's guest shared some thoughts with us a couple of months ago so please welcome Lynn Crain back with a sneak peek into her book, Avenging Angel......

Bound by vengeance, she is humanity’s one hope…

Aingeal Cochran is on a mission to save humanity from itself when suddenly she’s staring head-on at her forgotten past. Lukas Everhard must bring her up to speed regarding the real enemy before allowing himself to love her completely. In learning about her past and mission, Aingeal realizes the best is yet to be and she will do anything to protect those she loves. For Lukas, Aingeal is the mission.

Excerpt: Arching an eyebrow, I stared at him. No one in this facility could begin to hold a candle to me and I knew it. Worse, they knew it. “Whatever gave you the idea any one could kick my butt? Cause I know you can’t.” I sat there and listened to his buddies all crack up as Jonathan’s ears turned red. Now this was something I could really get into.

“Ever heard of Lukas Everhard?” The flash of puppy-like adoration almost made me lose it right then.

“You’re joking right? Everhard?” I couldn’t contain myself any longer and laughed so hard tears flowed from my eyes.  That would be the day.

“You’re just a bitch who won’t know what hit her.” His face took on a hard edge and if I hadn’t been so bored, I might have backed away.

“And you’re just an ass who will.” The orb bobbed in my hand as I stood, dangerously close to being thrown when something huge grabbed my wrist.

“You know the rules here. No fighting in the mess hall.”  The object didn’t remove itself from my body.

I whirled furious, jerking my arm away, energy in both hands now and was stopped short by the man who stood before me. I was not a small woman, yet this man dwarfed me.  Slowly, my gaze moved from his chest to his wide shoulders to his face and stopped there. Ice blue eyes stared at me without one bit of emotion attached to the look. He’s one cold cookie. I blinked rapidly almost as if I had been hit in the gut. This man was not going to take my crap in any way, shape or form. While I might be able to fool Darien somewhat as I had learned since I had arrived, I would never be able to fool this one.

Then there was the fact I felt more aware of him sexually than I had been with anyone else. Ever. There was a charisma about him which made me want to throw myself into his arms and beg to be taken.  And it was more than his physical appearance because if truth be told, this man looked good…the best I had ever seen…again a rarity for me to note. It was as if he were palpable under my hands even though we weren’t touching. My crotch tightened once more and I shook my head to clear my errant thoughts.

“Told you.” A snide voice commented somewhere off to my left.

I turned to look at my accuser, electricity leaping to my hand yet again. Some days I couldn’t control it at all. This could be a problem.

Stepping in front of me, the big man’s forefinger jabbed my chest in a hard push. “You. Me. In the sparring room immediately.”

I watched as he walked out the door, all predatory-like and with more purpose than I had seen anyone in this place have since my arrival. I eyed everyone else and realized it wouldn’t matter what I said, they were going to see if their man could best me. Sighing, I also knew I had brought this on myself. Vowing to make his fall gentle, I shook my head and followed him down the main corridor, wondering if I should even bother to introduce myself. I ran up to walk next to him and before I could even start, I was cut off by his raised hand.  

“Don’t bother. I know who you are.” He kept his eyes straight forward.

Frowning, I watched him for a minute. “Yeah, but I don’t know who you are, now do I?”

He stopped in front of the sparring room door. “And that should make a difference how?” Shoving it open, he waved a hand. “Ladies first.”

“As if I’d fall for that one,” I muttered more to myself than anyone.

Scowling at me, he shook his head. “Look one of us has to go in first. The door isn’t big enough for us to go side by side.”

“Fine,” I said through clenched teeth. This would end bad, I could feel it in my bones.

Amazon   iBooks   Kobo   Nook

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bvnbNt2Mqc0&feature=youtu.be

Award-winning author Lynn Crain has done it all in her life. From nursing to geology, her life experiences have added to her detail-rich stories. She loves writing full time, weaving contemporary, fantasy, futuristic and paranormal tales, tame to erotic, for various publishers. Her home is in the desert southwest, and she’s just returned from her latest adventure of living in Vienna, Austria while her husband worked his dream job.

She loves hearing from her readers at lynncrain@cox.net

Where Lynn Is:

www.lynncrain.com

lynncrain.blogspot.com

https://twitter.com/oddlynn3

https://www.facebook.com/LynnCrainAuthor

https://www.facebook.com/groups/xtraordinaryromance/

https://www.pinterest.com/oddlynn3 /

https://www.instagram.com/lynn.crain

Hope you enjoyed today's guest and that you'll check back weekly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight. 

Until next time take care and God bless!

PamT

#ThursdayThoughts Guest Post by Lynn Crain

Good Morning!

It's always a pleasure to introduce to you a new-to-me-and-my-blog author so without much further ado, here's Lynn....

Hi everyone!

First, I need to thank Pam for having me. It’s always wonderful to connect with friends and readers through a blog post.

Writing is my life but last year was a rough one considering my husband had cancer. It was a year full of angst, treatments and me doing classes to keep the writing alive. Frankly, I am amazed that I had even two things published but I’d always knew there’d be great years, good years and just barely there years.

See, I’ve been a writer a long time and most of the time I don’t need inspiration but this year, when I’m supposed to be writing daily, it’s been a hard time. Writer Jeff Goins has a really good book out called You Are A Writer (So Start Acting Like One) that I read a snippet of and it really touched me. In caring for my husband and substituting classes for writing, I lost the writing me somewhere along the way.

So, how does one find their writing self again? Well, for me, it was throwing myself into a project. The project happens to be the one I’m promoting here, Mystic Realms. Once January happened and my husband was declared cancer free, I threw myself into all the trappings of getting a release ready.

I was thankful I had the piece already written and gave it a quick once over. I had to add some words but my editor had looked at it a while ago, so I knew it would be easy. After adding going over the manuscript and adding what was needed, I zipped it off to her. Then I was off to look for a cover and not just any cover but something very specific as this was an Urban Fantasy and the first in the series.

Once the cover was found, I made sure that the artist could turn it into a series one and after about a week, the collaboration was done. The cover was submitted to great fanfare and I knew the writer in me was slowly coming back.

The parts were all submitted like the blurb, tagline and excerpt as we prepared for release day. I’d forgotten how the promo train grabs hold of one and steers your daily life until you know you’ve done all you can to get the word out. Promo is one of the things I think most authors detest but this time for me, it helped me get back into the groove.

Even the current class I’m taking, Folklore and Fairy Tales, got me back into the daily habit of writing with reading response papers and in class pieces every week. When I wasn’t reading the class work, I was writing something about it. The final project is a new fairy tale written by the students. I wondered for weeks about what I was going to write about and that too got me into the writing mode. Finally, I decided that I was going to re-imagine a Cinderella tale where an older Cinderella wanted to pass the shoe to someone just as worthy. What’s even better was I just found the perfect cover for it, so it will be released as a short story sometime this summer.

Happily, after a year of unexpected down time, I can honestly say that I am back on the road to be the best ever writer me.

Lynn

What goes bump in the night? What causes you a fright? While the answers for each may vary, I promise that these stories will not leave you wary.

From vampires and demons to shifters and creatures that you’d never suspect, this set will leave you breathless in the best possible ways.

So, don’t be afraid. Come, step inside our realm. Allow the mysticism of romance in many shapes and forms fall over you like a veil of sweet, soothing, spine tingling comfort.

We promise…you won’t be sorry.

Bound by vengeance, she is humanity’s one hope…

Blurb: 

Aingeal Cochran is on a mission to save humanity from itself when suddenly she’s staring head-on at her forgotten past. Lukas Everhard must bring her up to speed regarding the real enemy before allowing himself to love her completely. In learning about her past and mission, Aingeal realizes the best is yet to be and she will do anything to protect those she loves. For Lukas, Aingeal is the mission

PURCHASE Links for Mystic Realms:

Amazon   iBooks   Kobo   Nook

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bvnbNt2Mqc0&feature=youtu.be

Award-winning author Lynn Crain has done it all in her life. From nursing to geology, her life experiences have added to her detail-rich stories. She loves writing full time, weaving contemporary, fantasy, futuristic and paranormal tales, tame to erotic, for various publishers. Her home is in the desert southwest, and she’s just returned from her latest adventure of living in Vienna, Austria while her husband worked his dream job.

She loves hearing from her readers at lynncrain@cox.net

Where Lynn Is:

www.lynncrain.com

lynncrain.blogspot.com

https://twitter.com/oddlynn3

https://www.facebook.com/LynnCrainAuthor

https://www.facebook.com/groups/xtraordinaryromance/

https://www.pinterest.com/oddlynn3 /

https://www.instagram.com/lynn.crain

Hope you enjoyed today's post and that you'll check back each week for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.

Until next time, take care and God bless.

PamT

#TuesdayTreasures #EggCerptExchange with Diana Rubino

Good Morning Friends,

Well we're in the last week of eggcerpt exchange and today's guest is no stranger to our blog. Although she hasn't been in our spotlight, she's shared treasures and thoughts with us before, so please welcome her back with her new release, Dark Brew....

DARK BREW

A time travel romance

Learn from the past or forever be doomed to repeat it.

Accused of her husband’s murder, druid Kylah McKinley travels back through time to her past life in 1324 Ireland and brings the true killer to justice.

Two months of hell change Kylah’s life forever. On her many past life regressions, she returns to 14^th century Ireland as Alice Kyteler, a druid moneylender falsely accused of murdering her husband. Kylah’s life mirrors Alice’s in one tragic event after another—she finds her husband sprawled on the floor, cold, blue, with no pulse. Evidence points to her, and police arrest her for his murder. Kylah and Alice shared another twist of fate—they fell in love with the man who believed in them. As Kylah prepares for her trial and fights to maintain her innocence, she must learn from her past or forever be doomed to repeat it.  

An interview with Diana about Dark Brew 

Where did the story come from? 

The story took 12 years from start to finish. I’m a longtime member of the Richard III Society, and in the spring of 2004, I read an article in The Ricardian Register by Pamela Butler, about Alice Kyteler, who lived in Kilkenny, Ireland in 1324, and faced witchcraft charges. After her trial and acquittal, she vanished from the annals of history. I couldn't resist writing a book about her. 

How did you decide to make it a paranormal? 

I’m a believer in reincarnation, and I go on paranormal investigations whenever I can. I’ve gone on several past life regressions. Cape Cod has a lot of history and paranormal activity. I’ve been on many ghost walks and ghost hunts there. I wanted to connect Alice in the past with someone in the present, her reincarnation. 

Was Alice Kyteler famous in 14^th century Ireland? 

Not at all but she was the richest woman in Kilkenny, and for that reason the villagers hated her, especially the men. They accused her of killing her first husband, but she was acquitted. Then they accused her of killing her fourth husband, John LePoer, with witchcraft, the accusations more absurd than those of the 1692 witch hysteria in Salem, Massachusetts. Chancellor Edward de Burgh arrested Alice because her stepsons claimed she had murdered John by casting a witch’s spell with malefecia…and she used the enchanted skull of a beheaded thief as her cauldron. 

She went to trial and her dear friend Michael Artson had her acquitted, but she vanished into the annals of history. According to legend, she went to England. But no one knows for sure. 

Why did you make it a time travel? 

Because my heroine, Kylah McKinley, is a druid and has done many past life regressions, she knows she’s the reincarnation of Alice. So she has to go back and find out what happened to Alice, because too many weird things are happening to her in this life that parallel Alice’s life. 

Kylah lives on my beloved Cape Cod. She’s a druid, a ghost hunter and owns a new age store in a restored Revolutionary War-era tavern. She was also the target of a hit-and-run. Another hit-and-run crippled her husband Ted. That’s no coincidence—she’s convinced someone’s out to get them both. 

She brews an ancient Druid herb mixture, goes back in time and enters Alice’s life to find out exactly what happened and who killed her husband. 

These two months of hell change her life forever. Kylah’s life mirrors Alice’s in one tragic event after another—she finds her husband sprawled on the floor, cold, blue, with no pulse. Evidence points to her, and police arrest her for his murder. Kylah and Alice shared another twist of fate—they fell in love with the man who believed in them. As Kylah prepares for her trial and fights to maintain her innocence, she must learn from her past or she’s doomed to repeat it.  

Have you ever spoken to Pamela Butler, who wrote the article about Alice? 

Yes, we’ve corresponded. She lives in New Mexico, so we’ve never met in person. I asked Pam what inspired her to write about Alice. I’d never heard of Alice until I read her article, “Witchcraft & Heresy. She replied: 

“You asked why I wrote about Alice Kyteler, who preceded Richard by a century-and-a-half. I only wrote it because others on the listserv encouraged me to write about witchcraft, a subject about which I knew very little. I ordered three books from Amazon.com on the subjects of witchcraft, heresy, Satanism, etc. for research reasons. That was my basis, plus I searched the Internet. The Malleus Malleficarum was published in 1487, just two years after Richard's death, so it's almost contemporary. I chanced across Alice in this reading and thought that it was an interesting case. Witch burning was fairly rare in Ireland, and wasn't as bad in England at that time as it had been on the Continent. I wish that the M.M. had never been published; still, the fact that it was published and accepted may reveal the mindset of those times.” 

An excerpt from Dark Brew 

Kylah shut Ted’s den door. She couldn’t bear to look at the spot where he gasped his last breath. His presence, an imposing force, lingered. So did his scent, a blend of tobacco, pine aftershave and manly sweat. Each reminder ripped into her heart like a knife. Especially now with the funeral looming ahead, the eulogies, the mournful organ hymns, the tolling bells . . .

These ceremonies should bring closure, but they’d only prolong the agony of her grief. She wanted to remember him alive for a while longer, wishing she could delay these morbid customs until the hurt subsided.

Throughout the house, his essence echoed his personality: the wine stain on the carpet, the heap of dirty shirts, shorts and socks piled up in the laundry room, the spattered stove, his fingerprints on the microwave. But she couldn’t bring herself to clean any of it up. Painful as these remnants were, they offered a strange comfort. He still lived here.

“I’ll find that murderer, Teddy,” she promised him over and over, wandering from room to empty room, traces of him lurking in every corner. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure justice is served. Another past life regression isn’t enough anymore. I know what I have to do now. And I promise, it will never, ever happen again—in any future life.”

She inhaled deeply and breathed him in. “Go take a shower, Teddy.” She chuckled through her tears as the doorbell rang. She cringed, breaking out in cold sweat when she saw the black sedan at the curb.

“Not again.” No sense in hiding, so she let the detectives in.

“Mrs. McKinley, we need your permission to do a search and take some of your husband’s possessions from the house,” Nolan said.

“What for?” She met his steely stare. “I looked everywhere and found nothing.”

“Mrs. McKinley, the cupboard door was open, four jars of herbs are missing, and the autopsy showed he died of herb poisoning. Those herbs,” Nolan added for emphasis, as if it had slipped her feeble mind. “Foxglove, mandrake, hemlock—and an as-yet unidentified one,” he read from a notebook. “The M.E. determined it was a lethal dose.”

Sherlock Holmes got nothin’ on him, she thought. 

“Where’s this cupboard, ma’am?” Egan spoke up.

“Right there.” She pointed, its door gaping exactly the way she’d found it that night. Nolan went over to it and peered inside.

“Ma’am, it would be better if you left the house for a half hour or so. Please leave a number where you can be reached,” Egan ordered.

Nolan glanced down the hall. “Where is your bedroom?”

What could they want in the bedroom? “It’s at the top of the stairs on the right. But we didn’t sleep together,” she offered, as if that would faze them. It didn’t.

After giving him her cell number, she got into her car and drove to the beach.

An hour later, she let herself back in and looked around. They’d taken the computer, her case of CDs, her thumb drive, her remaining herb jars, Ted’s notebooks, and left her alone with one horrible fact: This was now a homicide case and she was the prime suspect. 

Purchase Dark Brew

Kindle

Amazon Paperback

B&N Nook

The Wild Rose Press--Paperback & Ebook

Contact Diana

Website

Blog

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

#RomanticIdea:

Cook an authentic Italian meal, cheese ravioli with marinara sauce, garlic bread, a salad with Italian olive oil, a fine Italian red wine, and a sweet gelato for dessert. Then put on some Sinatra CDs and dance the night away!

My favorite Sinatra album is Come Dance With Me

We always had Sinatra playing in my house when I was growing up. Nearly everyone from Hoboken or anywhere near Hoboken has a Sinatra story; being from Jersey City, I have a Sinatra story: my great grandmother and his mother Dolly were very good friends. Unfortunately I never asked Great Grandma about what she and Dolly talked about but I’ll bet a lot of juicy gossip went around!

Wow, Diana it all sounds great! 

Hope you enjoyed this eggcerpt exchange, folks and that you'll join me weekly for Tuesday Treasures, Thursday Thoughts and Saturday Spotlight.

Until next time, take care and God Bless.
PamT