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Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Excerpt Spotlight: Viktor (Happy Evil After Series Book 1) by Sarah Marsh + giveaway

When the heroes have reputations like these, who needs a villain?

Viktor (Happy Evil After Book 1)
by Sarah Marsh
June 21, 2017
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Add to Goodreads
Pandora is a Fairy Godmother who’s never fit in with her own people. Only she has the power…and the attitude, to step in and help those who others have decided aren’t worthy of a happy ending. How hard could it be to manipulate some of the most feared beings in their world?

Viktor has spent his entire un-dead life being the bogey man to the paranormal community and that’s the way he wants to keep it....with everyone else far away from him. When the opportunity arises to take his revenge on his nemesis, he can’t resist—even if it means risking his reputation and rescuing the damsel in distress.

Halle never expected to find herself in need of a savior, especially one with a reputation like Viktor’s. But she’s used to listening to her instincts and her cat trusts the strange woman who pops up and claims to have some solutions.

If a girl can’t trust her own Fairy Godmother, then what is this world coming to?


This is such a unique story! The blurb alone makes me want to read this book and once I started I couldn’t stop. The romance is both sweet and seriously hot. I’m thinking some ice water on the side while reading this story would not be a bad plan.
- The TBR Pile

Viktor by Sarah Marsh is the first in the Happy Evil After series. I love this series!!! Dark fairies, humor, sizzling heat, and did I mention humor. This is one of those stories I did not want to end. I loved it and want more from this amazingly well written series. Bring on the dark fairies and the questionable paranormals Dori saves.
- Tina, Goodreads Reviewer

Available now for $3.99 only. Grab your copy today.

Take an inside look at Viktor. Read this sizzling excerpt from the book.

"I mean you no harm, lady. You can go. I'm only here for what's in the car," he said slowly walking towards her. She was a cute little thing, all soft curves with golden skin and hair.
"Ummm, yeah, about that … I'm what's in the car, Mr. Krescech. You have to take me with you out of here," she said almost nervously, those big green eyes pleading with him.
Clearly, she was also insane. What was with the women he was running into this week? Viktor had had more than his fair share of groupies throwing themselves at him in the bars, wanting to take a walk on the wild side for a few hours, but this wholesome little beauty certainly didn't look like the type, so he had no idea exactly what she was asking him for.
"I don't think so," he said, moving past her towards the open back door to search the car.
"Seriously, there's nothing else in the car. They were taking me from my family and my pard to be married to Conrad. I have to go with you to get away from him," she continued, putting her tiny little hands on her very curvy hips in a way that distracted him far more than it should have.
Interesting, so this little number was a leopard shifter? Viktor hadn't really had any interaction with the pard in this country, but by reputation, they were a good lot. Why on Earth would she agree to marry Conrad?
"I don't rescue damsels in distress. I eat them," he said with a flash of fang. "So run along, little kitten."
The tiny spitfire threw her hands dramatically up in the air and sighed loudly.
"You just saved me from a life of baby-making slavery. Aren't you supposed to whisk me away to your super-secret villain lair and ravish me? Sheesh, where's your follow-through?"
Viktor just stood there and stared at her for a moment. He didn't know whether to laugh at her ridiculous statement or take her up on her offer and bend her over right here on the trunk of Conrad's car. He was extremely turned on by the fact that she didn't seem the least bit afraid of him. He'd always tried to pretend that his reputation in the paranormal community pleased him, that it helped him by keeping the rabble away. But deep down it bothered him that everyone always thought the worst of him. His honor was just yet another thing that Melisandre and Conrad had stolen from him when they took his mortality.
"Don't you know who I am, woman?" he finally said as she just stood there looking at him expectantly.
"Yes, I know who you are. Who else is capable of keeping me out of Conrad's douchy hands?"

About the Author:

Sarah Marsh was born in British Columbia where she still lives, she has only recently began her writing career finding it the perfect outlet for taking the edge off a nine to five office job. She's been a science fiction and romance junkie for years and when her imagination started to take the characters she'd read about even further in their adventures she decided to try writing something of her own.

Sarah's also a former pastry chef and spends a lot of time cooking and baking for friends and family as well as painting and knitting. Her biggest weaknesses are animals of any kind…she even loves the ones that wake you up at four in the morning because they can almost see the bottom of their food dish.

When it comes to life in general she's a big believer that laughter is the best medicine and that there's no such thing as too much love, which is why she's such a sucker for a happy ending.
To receive regular updates from the author, join Sarah Marsh's newsletter.

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Author Columbkill Noonan Guest Post: I Smell….Horses? + giveaway


I Smell….Horses? 

“I Smell Sheep” puts me in mind of a farm, and hooved animals, which, as the proud mama of a darling rescue horse named Mittens, made me think, of course, of horses. Which means that I will now share with ewe a hilariously terrible story that happened just yesterday, involving me and Mittens and a river.

Mittens, you see, loves to swim. And as it has been unbearably hot here, we thought it would be great fun to ride down to the river. Here is a picture of me and Mittens (not yesterday, but another, less eventful day) enjoying the lovely cool water.

Now, Mittens has recently developed a habit of laying down in the water. With me on her. It’s hysterical. I get dunked, she gets to cool down, and it’s all great fun. Until it’s not. Here’s how it went down yesterday:
Mittens: “Ima lay down now, ok, Ma?”
Me: “Maybe not right here, Mittens. It’s a bit rocky, and way too deep…”
Mittens (laying down anyway): “What? Did you say something? Oh boy, this water feels great!”
Me: (Splash/Splutter/Gasp). “Mittens! What did I just say!”
Mittens: (Rolling). “Ahhhhhh.”
Ok, so everything’s fine. I’m soaked to my neck, but since it’s 100 billion degrees outside I’m ok with that. The problem is that I rode her bareback, so getting back on is proving to be a problem.
Me: (trying to lead Mittens across the river over to a rock that I can climb on in order to be high enough to scramble onto her back.)
Mittens: “Where are we going? Over here? No? Over here? Ack, I’m tripping all over myself!”
(Random guy on kayak pauses upriver, taking pictures.)
Me: “Well, that’s creepy”.
Mittens: “Ewww.”
Me: “Can you please watch where you put your feet? You’re stepping on me.”
Mittens: “I’m incredibly excited for no reason and I can’t see my feet.”
Me: “Ok, but if you just slow down and follow me…”
Mittens: “How about if I just go faster and change direction repeatedly with no warning?”
Me: “Mittens, you are standing on my foot.”
Mittens: “Ok, I’ll just stand right here then.”
Me: “MITTENS YOU ARE STANDING ON MY FOOT!!!!”
Mittens: “Wanna cuddle?”
Me: (falls over backwards, head goes under water, foot stays firmly planted under Mitten’s hoof whilst the rest of me goes in every other direction, brain yells ‘Ima die, Ima die, Ima die’.)
Me (again, sitting up in the river now): “Ack. Ow. OW!”
Mittens: “What? Something wrong? Hmmmm?”
Random kayak guy, floating by, waves happily. I wave back, standing on one foot, smiling as much as is possible when one’s foot has just been broken and one has just nearly drowned, because, you know, politeness.
Me: “Mittens, I think you broke my foot.”
Mittens: “Huh? Yeah, can you hurry up please? I want my dinner now.”
Me: “Argh.”
Mittens: “Oooh, are those treats in your pocket? I LOVE treats!”
So now I’m in a stupid-looking boot for several weeks, and can’t ride, or do yoga, or pretty much anything. And it’s the most absurd set of circumstances; one that made the x-ray tech burst out in a gleeful cackle of laughter. “Oh!” she says. “That is the best story! So much better than the lady yesterday who dropped a can of beans on her foot. You win for best broken foot story! You win ALL the stories!” 

Which brings us right round to “Barnabas Tew and the Case of the Missing Scarab”. Barnabas (along with his assistant Wilfred) often finds himself in ridiculous situations like this, that spiral out of control with one comedic error after another. In a way, Mittens and I ARE Wilfred and Barnabas. So, if you found this story amusing, you will probably also like Barnabas’ shenanigans.

Will I take Mittens swimming again? Of course! She loves it, and she didn’t mean to smoosh my foot. Will I be more careful of where her hooves are, in relation to my own feet? I hope so!

The true moral of the story, of course, is this: if ewe are kayaking in the woods and ewe see someone getting stomped on by a 1,200 lb animal and being knocked over and generally experiencing a near-death occurrence, it’s best to just float on by, silently smiling and waving and taking pictures.
Mittens, pre-foot stomping, with her lovely new ‘do.

by Columbkill Noonan
July 26, 2017 
Genre: Mystery/Mythology 
Number of pages: 273
Word Count: 84,467
Cover Artist: Adobe Stock/Lynea/Soqoqo
Baker Street isn’t the only place in town
Barnabas Tew is a private detective struggling to make a go of it in Victorian London.

Fearing that he is not as clever as he had hoped to be, he is riddled with anxiety and plagued by a lack of confidence brought on in no small part by his failure to prevent the untimely deaths of several of his clients. Matters only get worse when Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead, is referred to Barnabas by a former client (who perished in a terribly unfortunate incident which was almost certainly not Barnabas’ fault). Anubis sends for Barnabas (in a most uncivilized manner) and tells him that the scarab beetle in charge of rolling the sun across the sky every day has been kidnapped, and perhaps dismembered entirely.

The land of the dead is in chaos, which will soon spill over into the land of the living if Barnabas (together with his trusty assistant, Wilfred) cannot set matters to right.

Pulled from his safe and predictable (if unremarkable) life in Marylebone, Barnabas must match his wits against the capricious and dangerous Egyptian gods in order to unravel the mystery of the missing beetle and thereby save the world.


Excerpt:
“You see,” said Anubis, “Khepre has gone missing. Are you familiar with Khepre?”

Barnabas shook his head.

“Khepre is our scarab beetle. He is responsible for rolling Ra across the sky every morning and then down beneath the earth every night. Without Khepre the sun cannot move. The sun will no longer rise and set as it should.”

“That is why it is so hot in here?” ventured Barnabas, proud of his deductive skills. He had noticed almost immediately how very bright the light was in this place and that the air was intolerably stuffy.

“Exactly,” said Anubis. “And if this continues for much longer, the heat and the constant daylight will spill out onto the mortal world. There will be famine and death and chaos. You can see that this must not happen.”

“Of course,” agreed Barnabas. “That sounds perfectly dreadful.”

“Dreadful, indeed,” said Anubis. “That is the task that I have for you. You must find Khepre for us. The fate of the world depends upon it.”
 

About the Author:
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Columbkill Noonan has an M.S. in Biology (she has, in turn, been a field biologist, an environmental compliance inspector, and a lecturer of Anatomy and Physiology).

When she's not teaching or writing, she can usually be found riding her rescue horse, Mittens, practicing yoga (on the ground, in an aerial silk, on a SUP board, and sometimes even on Mittens), or spending far too much time at the local organic, vegan market.

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