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Friday, September 30, 2016

Comic Review: Neil Gaiman's Troll Bridge HC from Dark Horse Comics

NEIL GAIMAN’S TROLL BRIDGE HC
Writer: Neil Gaiman, Colleen Doran
Artist: Colleen Doran
Cover Artist: Colleen Doran
Genre: Horror, Fantasy
October 05, 2016
Dark Horse Comics

Format: FC, 64 pages; HC, 6.5” x 10”
Price: $14.99
Age range: 16

PREVIEW
From the mind of master storyteller Neil Gaiman!

Young Jack’s world was full of ghosts and ghouls, but one monster—a ravenous and hideous troll—would haunt him long into manhood. As the beast sups upon a lifetime of Jack’s fear and regret, Jack must find the courage within himself to face the fiend once and for all!

* Beautifully adapted by Colleen Doran (The Sandman, Stan Lee’sAmazing Fantastic Incredible: A Marvelous Memoir)!

* A gorgeous new addition to your Gaiman library!

Colleen Doran's artwork brings Gaiman's poignant fairy tale, Troll Bridge, to life.

Troll Bridge is a short story that appeared in Gaiman's short story collection Smoke and Mirrors: Short Fictions and Illusions. You can find the whole story online on some sites. It is the story of a young boy, Jack, with a big imagination and a lot of fear. He meets the troll and begs to live longer. He ends up coming back to the troll at different stages of his life. Asking for more time before the troll "eats his life."

There are different interpretations when it comes to what the troll is or represents. Is he real or just a manifestation of Jack's fear. It is a poignant tale and gives the reader much to think about.

Dark Horse Comics brings Troll Bridge to life in a hardcover graphic novel with artwork by Colleen Doran. The artist created beautiful illustrations and turned it into the fairy tale it was meant to be...I mean, the main character's name is Jack...


5 "trip-trapping" Sheep




SharonS

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Alpha Male Diner featuring Dalir’s Salvation by Nina Crespo + Giveaway

Welcome to the Alpha Male Diner. My name is Nina, and I’m your server tonight. I’ve got a booth in the corner for you. Have a seat.

Were you partying at the club up the street? Thane’s Redemption was playing tonight? Oh, I love them. Yeah. I know. All that man candy on stage turned the place into sugar-rush central. Thane caught your eye? Sorry ladies, Mr. Hot-Ass-Scorching-Twelve is taken. Celine’s a lucky girl.

You heard Reid was off the market, too? Yep. It’s true. Lauren scooped him up about six months ago. They are so cute together it’s sickening. I also heard they’re freaky as hell. One of my friends is a bartender at the club. She caught them backstage in the supply closet. If what she says is true about what he’s packing, all I can say is DAMN!!

Sorry. How rude of me. You need menus. Dessert is catching your eye? May I recommend Dalir’s Salvation.
Dalir: Ancient Warrior
Recipe created by Nina Crespo
Dalir’s Salvation, Book 3, The Song Series

Main ingredients:
*Over six feet of tall, bronzed and delicious
*A whole lot of arrogance and confidence
*An equal amount of immortality
*A heaping spoonful of royal privilege

Spices and flavorings
*A liberal dash of time traveler
*A splash of mind reader
*Generously laced with loyal protector
*Sprinkled with a quest to save humankind from destruction
*Topped with a mighty, kick-ass sword

Mix the main ingredients to the consistency of defined, muscular perfection. Stir in spices and flavorings to heighten anticipation. Do everything possible to heat it up and make the sword rise. Consuming this alpha male delight is all about state of mind. This dish demands your unapologetic enjoyment for the ultimate in exquisite, erotic pleasure. Enjoy!

Taste Test 
“It’s so fresh and delicious. You have to taste it.” Ari sucked and licked her fingers.

“You’re right.” Dalir’s husky tone stroked over her like a caress and pulled her straight into his gaze. “I think I will.”

During their time together, she’d witnessed many expressions pass over his face. This one, a look of pure, unadulterated desire, took her breath away.

He glided his hands around her waist. His light touch intensified anticipation. The chunk of pineapple she held almost slipped out of her grasp.

Dalir leaned in and caught it. His warm tongue slid the piece of fruit farther into his mouth. His teeth gently grazed her fingertips.

She breathed in his spicy scent mixed in with the pineapple and gave into wrapping her arms around him.

He tightened his hold. As Dalir guided her down, he teased the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

Slow, soft, beautifully agonizing kisses brought sighs. Anticipation left her dying a little inside, starving for so much more. She demanded it from him with faster, more insistent strokes of her tongue.

Dalir caressed her from waist to hip. He brought her forward to meet the press of his hardened length against her belly.

Heat flashed over her. The heavy ache of her breasts, along with the pulling between her thighs, became unbearable. She tugged at his shirt, straining the cloth at the seams, impatient for it to go.

He gently pushed her hands away and took it off.

Finally seeing skin, Ari pressed kisses to Dalir’s chest. His heart beat faster and harder against her lips. She licked his warm, salty skin and his beaded nipple. Groaning, Dalir nudged her down until she lay underneath him. The smell of crushed grass filled the air.

In between heated kisses, they stripped away more clothing.

Her shirt was the last piece to go. She lifted her arms to make it easier for him to pull it over her head. He stopped just short of dragging it past her wrists.

She squirmed, trying to break from his hold. “What are you doing?” He chuckled, and puffs of air blew over her breast. “Having breakfast.” As he wound the fabric tighter around her wrists, he flicked his tongue, rapidly across her nipple. Sensation spiraled down to her core. He lifted away, still holding her bound arms with one hand, while he reached above them to the tree stump with the other.
She inflicted her own torture, nipping his chest and soothing away the bite with her tongue. He rewarded her efforts with a hissed out a breath. The uncut pineapple fell to the ground.

“Dalir?”

He gave her a grin filled with wicked intentions. “I enjoy everything in this garden, but I think you’re going to be my favorite.”




by Nina Crespo
September 27th 2016
by Lyrical Press
ebook, 224 pages
To be with the man of her dreams, she’ll have to face her worst nightmares…

Ari is looking to live a normal life. But after she hits her head, normal is no longer an option. A mysterious, rugged man appears, whom only she can see… each night he fulfills her fantasies and leaves her begging for more. She’s sure he’s a figment of her imagination—until she finds out the hard way that he’s all too real. Now, to truly be with him, Ari will have to embrace the parts of herself she’s been desperately keeping at bay.
Dalir’s been burned by love before, yet he can’t resist Ari’s beauty and charm. And all it takes is one kiss to spark nights of passion. But there’s danger on the horizon that only Dalir and his friends in the band Thane’s Redemption can deal with. And the longer he stays with Ari, the greater the peril to them both. Will the two of them be strong enough to fight for their newfound love—and their lives?

About the Author:

Nina Crespo lives in Florida where she indulges in her favorite passions—the beach, kickboxing, a good glass of wine, and dancing. Her lifelong addiction to romance began in her teens while on a “borrowing spree” in her older sister’s bedroom where she discovered her first romance novel. Curiosity about people and places, including what’s beyond the stars, fuels her writer’s imagination. Indulge in her sensual contemporary stories and steamy paranormal tales to feed your own addiction for love, romance, and happily ever after.
Need Nina?



GIVEAWAY
It's for a $25 gift card to Amazon
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b050ef29279/?

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Spotlight/Excerpt: Wolf on Board by Heather Long + Giveaway

WOLF ON BOARD 
by Heather Long
Series: Wolves of Willow Bend
Genre: Paranormal
Publisher: Independent
Format: Digital
Meet Jake Danes of Hudson River, Lone Wolf, avid gamer, extreme sports enthusiast, and surfer. He’s spent the last two years roaming free, exploring the world and escaping the dark place his pack had become after betrayal and murder tore them apart. Sure life has changed at home, but Jake’s having way too much fun to return. Riding the waves in Monterrey, and living out of a van…it’s the prefect life, one he never wants to give up no matter how many calls he’s fielding from his big brother…then he catches her scent.

Mimi Chase wanted one perfect year. One year away from pack politics and her mother’s matchmaking efforts. Ever since her big brother settled into mating with a healer, Mimi’s mom seems to have gone into overtime in throwing her at every eligible male in the pack. Choosing to roam seemed the best option, and California an ideal location to get away from everything pack related. Her plans for art classes, yoga on the beach, maybe a cooking lesson or two while living a hippy dippy lifestyle are all she cares about…until another worlf butts into her every activity - doesn’t he know the rules?

Lone Wolves aren’t supposed to form relationships, so why doesn’t he catch a hint? Worse, why isn’t she working harder to make sure he does?


Read an Excerpt from WOLF ON BOARD

Mimi grabbed a blanket and her yoga mat from the back of her Mini Cooper. She loved the tiny little vehicle. No matter how often her brother scoffed at the minute size of the car, she didn’t care. It was perfect for her. Compact, like she was, and capable of great speeds—just like her. Locking it up, she glanced east at the rising sun and smiled. It was a little after six in the morning and she’d already had a bit of a run, a lovely cup of hot tea with lemon and ginger to cleanse her system, and she would enjoy the full sunrise and rolling surf with her yoga.

Pausing, she took a deep breath of the salt flavored air. She loved the way the beach smelled. Warm sand. Cool water. Brine. Fish. Birds. Even the coconut oil favored by some of the sunbathers and honest sweat from those running on the paths—they all combined to soothe her soul. Tucking the rolled blanket and yoga mat beneath her arm, she closed the hatch on the car and pivoted to walk toward the beach.

A hint of wolf on the breeze had her pausing to scan the area. Other than a handful of vehicles in the lot, and a couple of runners jogging farther away, she didn’t see anyone. Still, she tested the scent once more. It was faint, as though diluted by the breeze and time. She tracked it all the way to a dilapidated Volkswagen van. It reminded her of the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo without the paint job.

The scent of wolf grew stronger. The van had to belong to whomever the wolf was, but the lack of fresh markers told her while his scent lingered, he wasn’t present. Adjusting her grip on the rolled blanket and mat, she circled away from the van and continued toward the beach all the while reminding herself that other Lone Wolves may choose to wander California for the same reason she did. No one claimed the beautiful state…well at least not this far north. The closest pack to her location was Sutter Butte, but she’d never heard any word of them taking an interest in the beaches.

Then again, she didn’t talk to a lot of people about the political geography of packs. If it’s all the same, I’d prefer not to encounter any of them. They have a bad rap and I’m on a journey of serenity, and self-discovery…and totally avoiding Mother’s matchmaking. The little voice at the end sounded way too much like her brother Owen’s, and she giggled. Owen, at least, had been sympathetic to her cause when she’d told him and Mason why she wanted to take the time to study in the Golden State.

Her mother’s habit of making pro and con lists for all of the pack’s current eligible bachelors had been bad enough, but when she’d talked to Gillian about potential mates in Hudson River and began colluding with Claudia Buckley about Delta Crescent, Mimi wanted out.

It was so bad, she’d actually asked Owen to get Gillian pregnant just to distract their mother. The silence on his end of the phone had been priceless, followed by peals of laughter from Gillian. Fortunately, her desperation had communicated itself well enough and he’d endorsed her request. Mason made her promise to return at the end of one year, even if she was enjoying herself, and she would be free to return to her studies after, if that was her desire.

Mason is the bomb. She hopped over the rocks to land on the sand and began to stroll in search of a spot that would speak to her. Not only had her alpha understood her dilemma and sympathized with it, he didn’t chastise her for the need to stretch herself beyond the confines of pack and parental expectation. Mimi’s skills for tracking had earned her high marks growing up, and more than one offer from the Hunters to apprentice. It made sense—both her father and her brother were Hunters. Even her two younger brothers were well on the way toward Hunter apprenticeships. Felicity had zero interest in the Hunter parts of their DNA, she preferred her flowers and cultivation, working closely with Tiffany Huston. Still, Mimi didn’t share her sister’s interest in horticulture or her mother’s desire to educate their young or her father and brothers’ drive to protect the pack.

She was…not sure who I am, which is why I am doing this. The year away from her mother served two purposes; she could take some classes and test her areas of interest from art to acting to writing. She could study yoga and find some serenity. Maybe even figure out who she was, because wasn’t that the whole point of a roam? Most wolves took time to roam the country; some even went around the world.

Murphy had done that and came home with a mate. Mimi grimaced. She loved Murphy, but really, could she have not brought home some gorgeous Italian and mated him with all the requisite gossip? It had Mimi’s mother nudging her to consider a year abroad in…where else? Italy. Shaking her head, she paused on a perfectly smooth area of sand and spread her blanket before unrolling her yoga mat in the center.

Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths. Inhaling calm, and exhaling the stress. Her mother was in Willow Bend. Mimi was in California. No ridiculous blind dates or not-so-casual meetings with eligible bachelors. Thank God Dylan mated before her mother got it into her head to throw Mimi at every male who came along, she’d actually had a crush on Dylan and he definitely fell into the category of eligible before Chrystal.

Growling, she opened her eyes and glared at the water. She was hardly alone on the beach. Laughter drifted towards her from where the surfers made their way toward deeper water, or where some sat astride their boards waiting for the water to come in. She was supposed to be letting go of her anxiety and not stressing about her mother, mating, or any of a dozen other issues being so far away from the pack could rouse in her.

She’d been in California for three weeks. Three gloriously wonderful, and peaceful weeks. This morning marked a full forty-eight hours since her mother’s last phone call. As loathe, as she was to hurt her feelings, Mimi couldn’t help but be relieved that distance had finally done what she hadn’t been able to manage.

Her mother was quiet.

So hush… Telling herself repeatedly didn’t silence the nagging internal monologue. Mindful of her surroundings, she quieted her growl and concentrated on her breathing. Mountain pose let her stretch her hands toward the sky and raise her face to the breeze. It elongated her spine and let her stretch the muscles from her hamstrings to her deltoids. The wind caressed her face and tousled her hair and batted away the riot of thoughts invading her mind.

From mountain she went to tree pose and rested her right foot against the side of her left knee. Her muscles quivered at first, but gradually she relaxed into the sturdiness. Like the tree she emulated, she let the woes of her mother’s romantic aspirations blow past her. The steadiness bolstered her confidence.

Warrior pose drew away the last curtain and let her mind relax. Her wolf stretched within her, their hearing seeming to sharpen as they noticed the increase of traffic beyond, the crash of water against the shore, and the call of birds overhead. Wolf and woman catalogued the sounds as she pushed her body, identifying any potential threats or lack thereof and remaining mindful.

By the time she drifted into a graceful downward dog, she’d relaxed her breathing and banished her anxiety. Curling her toes, she concentrated on feeling the wholeness of the position, the hinging arch of her hips and the warmth of the sand beneath the mat and blanket.

From triangle pose to seated twists to bridges, she pushed her body to achieve perfect serenity while maintaining her sense of being in the present. The sun warmed her as it continued a steady rise, and she basked in the rays as they heated her skin. When she finally settled into a lotus pose, she let her mind drift, as though flotsam upon the waves before her.

The world withdrew, leaving her alone with the lapping water, humming cars, and screech of seagulls…then water dripped on her. The icy sensation of splashing drops was cold against her skin. Though there had been no call for rain in the forecast, she fought to hold onto her sense of inner peace and deepened her breathing…only to inhale a lungful of coconut and brine mingling with the green scent of dewy sea grass atop the sand dunes with slivers of mint and…

Mimi jerked her eyes open and stared into the blue eyes of the wolf squatting right in front of her. His long, straggly hair clung wetly to his face and shoulders. The wet suit left little of his physique to the imagination, and he canted his head as though trying to figure her out. This close, however, she couldn’t miss a single nuance of his expression or the drops of water sliding off of him to splash wetly against her legs.

How the hell had he approached her so stealthily that she hadn’t sensed or scented him before he dripped on her?

Worse…who was he and what did he want?

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, as though aware of her racing her thoughts. “What brings a sexy little wolf like you to my stretch of beach?” A slow grin spread his mouth wide, and her stomach did a little flip flop. He was gorgeous and damn if he didn’t know it.

Just what she needed…a hot, sexy wolf who was most assuredly male and made her wolf stand up to take notice. Ignoring her animal’s very natural curiosity, she narrowed her eyes. “I was enjoying a quiet morning. Now go away.”

One thing about having Owen for a brother, she wasn’t helpless, even if she was tiny. Closing her eyes again, she forced her muscles to relax and prayed he’d take the direction well, even as she prepared for the worst.


DESERT WOLF Cassius, Alpha of Sutter Butte, leads the most ruthless and dangerous pack in the United States. A pack comprised of misfits who didn’t fit in their previous packs, cast offs discarded by their packs and forgotten wolves who rose to create a pack more than a century before it utter defiance of the order of the day. Sometimes pitiless and cruel, he wants more for his people than a yearly bloodbath as they fight for a new place, a better spot in the pecking order. To change his pack, means to change himself and he will find rebellion on all sides, not the least of which is his own defiant heart.

Sovvan Stark, Omega of Delta Crescent, lives a cherished, beloved life in the center of her pack, a delicate and hard won balance. Though she is not the only Omega, she is the most experienced with the tremors of pack upset when power shifts from Alpha to Alpha. When her Alpha approaches her about Sutter Butte’s request, Sovvan considers the matter for several long months. While she might hold within her the key to helping the Sutter Butte Alpha, the undertaking could very well kill her.

Accompanied by a single Hound, Sovvan begins a journey to help Cassius rebuild the foundation of his pack, but first she will have to transform him…


SNOW WOLFRanae is the youngest of the Buckleys, and the only girl amongst three powerful male siblings. Her restlessness and dominant nature has affected every relationship within Willow Bend, not to mention testing the patience of her Alpha. Apprenticeship to the Hunters fed her desire for a purpose. When her Alpha and eldest brother ask her to undertake a mission to the Yukon territory, she’s thrilled at the opportunity for a real chance to be useful. Clashing with the Alpha was the last thing she expected on the dangerous assignment.

The oldest Alpha in the U.S. packs, lives a gray existence. The loss of his mate so many decades before wears away at him, until he doesn’t give a damn about anything. The problems of the other packs are not his, and he prefers to be left to his isolation. The arrival of the Chief Enforcer annoys him, but it is the wolf traveling with him who wakes the predator in Diesel. The scent of mate clings to her, but she rejects his overtures and challenges him on every level.

War may be coming for the Yukon, but Diesel’s battle is very personal…



About the Author:
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Goodreads-Amazon
National bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas summertime. From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories—her characters drive the books. When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family. She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Spotlight: Saloon Opens at Five (The Rifle Chronicles Vol 1) by Jason Gilbert + giveaway

Saloon Opens at Five (The Rifle Chronicles Book 1)
by Jason Gilbert
June 7, 2016
145 pages
Jack "The Rifle" McMurtry is a whiskey-drinking witch hunter known for his custom firearms and killer headshot.


Join Rifle, Meryl, Arnie, and Stella against their greatest foe yet...the mysterious Talon.


Short Story collection:
Rifle's Reunion
Broken Truce
Blood Curse
Rally and Ride
Secrets and Sacrifices



About the Author:
FB-twitter-blog
Jason is a reviewer of all things B-Movie and under. He runs a blog on Wordpress called Fail-Flix, and also has a book published called "Bad Movie Beware!", which is a compilation of over 100 reviews off the site. Jason also writes a Weird Western series called "The Rifle Chronicles." Both publications can be found in the Kindle Store on Amazon, while Jason can usually be found in front of his computer writing or playing video games when his brain just can't do it anymore for the night! He loves horror, cooking, and brainstorming new ways to drive his family crazy!

GIVEAWAY
print copy of the steampunk fantasy Western:
Saloon Opens at Five
(int)

Saloon Opens at Five giveaway

Monday, September 26, 2016

Book Review: The Magic (Wilds Book 4) by Donna Augustine + giveaway

The Magic: (Wilds Book 4)
by Donna Augustine
Pages: 252
For as long as I’ve lived, Dark Walkers have been hunting Plaguers, seeking them for their magic. But there’s one Plaguer they want most of all. Me.

Since the fall of civilization, the human race has been barely surviving. Another outbreak of the Bloody Death could be our final straw and there’s only one way to ensure that doesn't happen. I need to kill the leader of the Dark Walkers.

I’m stronger than ever but with more to lose than I ever thought possible. For the first time, I feel like I’ve got a family, a home…Dax.

So here I am; ready to fight. Winner take all.


Dal has lost so much yet gained a new family. One that she would do anything to protect even if it could cost her everything. In the final installment of The Wilds series, Dal is still wild and unpredictable but finds herself in a way she never could before. Many different groups come together for the last battle.

The unique relationship between Dax and Dal is one of my favorites. Usually when I read a book it’s the man that can’t figure out the woman but in Augustine’s books it’s the other way around, the woman can’t figure out the man and I like the change of direction. Full of many surprises I think that Augustine did a fantastic job bringing the story to an end. Even though I’m sad that it’s ending I look forward to her next new series Shadow Magic.


Review: The Wilds (book #1)
Review: The Hunt (book #2)
Review: The Dead (book #3)
Getting 5 sheep





Denise B

About the Author:

Website-Facebook-Twitter
Donna Augustine was an odd child, had a brief moment of conformity in early adulthood and then decided to embrace her craziness as the years rolled by. It's her inner crazy that she credits with coming up with the ideas for her books. One part hypochondriac, a few dashes of paranoia, topped with a sliver of uptight and delivered with a relaxed flair, she kicked the proverbial box down the yellow brick road a couple years ago to embrace her true self.

She can be reached by a carrier pigeon, set free in a south by north direction, where she resides in Neverland with her two Siberian cats. Cats who, by the way, aren't as hypoallergenic as she believed they'd be.

For the conventional minded, and those of you without a pigeon on hand, she can be reached at donna@donnaaugustine.com. She responds to most emails within three dusk periods.

P.S. For those of you looking for the discarded box, it was sitting beside the road for a while but has since disappeared completely.


Dawn Cavenne donated the prizes! Thank you Dawn!

The Magic: The Wilds giveaway

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Spotlight & Excerpt: Piece by Piece by Elisabeth Staab + giveaway

Piece by Piece
by Elisabeth Staab
September 20th, 2016
ETHAN’S HIT A ROUGH SPOT
So I caught my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend.

My best friend cancelled our plans to celebrate my birthday.

Decided to drink away the betrayal.

Made out with a cardboard cutout of a celebrity in front of my new roommates.

Got in a bar fight.

Hooked up with that pretty bartender whose sad smile I’ve secretly been painting pictures of since forever, but she shoved me out the door without a word.

Did I mention the tattoo I don’t exactly remember getting?

And that’s only Saturday.

Now I need to pick up the pieces of my messed-up life.

LEEANNE’S HAD A TOUGH LIFE

What do you do when you’ve lived in the same small town your whole life and you feel as if you’ll always be stuck in the same rut, like a piece of busted wagon wheel? Well, maybe you start by hooking up with the first decent guy who walks into your bar.

Maybe once you do, it’s hard to get him out of your head even though you try. And maybe, just maybe, you find out he makes you laugh even more than he makes you want to shout his name.

If you’re me, you don’t even know what to do with a guy like him. A little piece of happiness…that feels downright dangerous.

Excerpt 

(Leeanne’s POV): 
So, whatcha thinking? Time to go?” He rises up on his knees. The way he’s poised, he could either move away or get closer just as easily.

“Oh, I don’t know. I'm not dizzy yet.” Not that I honestly want to get dizzy, but we’ve gotten a little too serious. After Ethan brought me here to have fun, I want to lighten the mood.

With his hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, Ethan leans in toward me again. “I thought you didn't want me to make you dizzy.”

I didn't think so. Yet here we are, hot breath puffing in the cold air between us. My lips tingle as he leans close. It’s impossible to forget the way his hands explored me so carefully before. The way his tongue tasted me like he wanted to keep on tasting me forever.

“You remember that first time you kissed me?”

His cheeks turn a deep merlot. “Damn right I do. I remember thinking it was the best kiss I'd ever had.”

Well now. I'm pretty sure if I wasn't sitting on something cold and metal, I'd have just melted right into the playground gravel.

“It was the first time I’d kissed someone because I wanted to, and not because I thought I should.” My chest feels strange when I confess this to him. Like it’s full of butterflies or bees. Lighter but nervous. And oh God, my heart is just bouncing every which way.

As his hair brushes my forehead, his dimple deepens and his eyes get darker. “I’m glad you wanted to kiss me, LeeAnne. I’ve been dying to do it again.”

Maybe…maybe I don’t have to lean on him. Maybe I could just lean in again. Meet those wind-chapped lips halfway. That’d be okay, right?

I wrap my arms around my knees and smile. “I think I've decided I wouldn't mind getting a little dizzy.”

His lips brush mine so fast, I’m left breathless when he jumps from the merry-go-round to give it a spin.

“Hang on tight,” he says.

So I do.

About the Author:
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Elisabeth Staab started hunting mutant hedgehogs back in 1842… Oops, wrong bio… Elisabeth Staab digs coffee, saucy stories, and sexy things that go bump in the night. Once, she ate dinner in a jail and liked it. She lives in the Washington DC area with her incredible family and does her best to juggle life while ignoring the laundry.


Giveaway 
Elisabeth is giving away a cute makeup kit she made (US only) or an ecopy of Piece by Piece (INT). Follow the Tour!

Winning the Internet this week...Paranoid Parrot,

Paranoid Parrot, I think we've all been there

http://mynameisborkybarnes.tumblr.com/post/150749279484/ambris-ithelpstodream-paranoid-parrot-i-do

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Spotlight: Reaping the Harvest (Warrior of the Way Book 1) by Robbie Cox + excerpt

Reaping the Harvest (Warrior of the Way Book 1)
by Robbie Cox
March 6, 2013
202 pages

Rhychard Bartlett returns as the wielder of the Guardian Sword in this long-anticipated sequel to Reaping the Harvest, not only to face a runaway elf, a ghost, and visions of flames that actually burn his body, but also another member of the Void wanting to open a Gateway to the Nether. Add to that a mysterious dark elf that just walks up and says hello, and it's been one hell of a Monday for our hero.




Excerpt Lore Master:
The cold night blew an icy wind over the valley that became a battlefield. The metallic scent of blood and death filled the air as well as the dying cries and whimpers of the fallen elves. Mephalus stood in the middle of the slaughter, the Guardian Sword dangling from his arm. He heard a whistle slice the air, the sure sound of an arrow splitting the sky on its way to end him. He only laughed as he raised the sword to deflect it, breaking the stem in two. However, the arrow head flicked end over end, gouging his right cheek. Blood, the first of his shed that night, gushed down his face to stain his jerkin. He growled at the array of elves above him. “From the distance? You fight with arrows? Cowards! Come and fight like Warriors so that you may die like Warriors.”

“We did not launch the arrow, Mephalus,” Kendalais said as he gestured to the hill to the south.

Mephalus turned and saw the townspeople lined up along the hill’s ridge to the south of the stone fortress. Torches lit the night sky as their cries of outrage and anger filled the air, a mob bent on retribution. They held swords, pitchforks, sickles, and even bows and arrows as they marched to encircle the one who wished to subjugate them.

Mephalus roared his menacing laughter. “You’re actually going to allow the people of this town to fight your battle for you? You’re even more of a coward than I thought. Have the Warriors gone soft, Kendalais?”

Whistling filled the air as flaming arrows launched from the townspeople, aimed at Mephalus—or rather, in his vicinity. Fire blazed trails of light through the black night, streaking their way toward the bodies that littered the earth around Mephalus’ feet. The arrows pierced the ground, the flames catching the dry earth and the bodies that lay dead on the ground. The flames flickered, sparking fires that engulfed all around the elven Warrior. More arrows sliced the air, igniting even more fires. The fiery rain continued.

Mephalus sent furtive glances around him; flames engulfed the entire area. He screamed at the townspeople, but more fiery arrows headed off every advance he made to escape the fire. He turned to Kendalais. “Is this how your king passes judgment?” he bellowed into the night. “You allow these…humans…to kill one of your kind?”

Kendalais slid his sword into its scabbard before crossing his arms over his chest. He stared down at Mephalus with cold, detached eyes. “You know the Seelie do not interfere in the affairs of humans. You crossed that line, Mephalus, and now the humans decided to handle it themselves. They are the ones who passed judgment and we will not interfere.”

“Cowards!” The flames caught everything in their wake, sending up smoke and flames in suffocating heat. Mephalus started to have problems breathing, the heat singeing his mouth and throat. He could no longer see past the flames, which grew to reach over his head. More arrows hit the ground around him, one piercing his chest, knocking him backward, the flames setting his hooded cloak on fire. The roaring flames drowned out his anguished cry. More arrows assaulted him, some hitting the ground, others piercing his body. “Kendalais!” His voice, a mere gurgle of boiling blood, faded away.

The pain of the flames seared his flesh, scorched him, and made it unbearable. He gripped the sword, trying to use its magic as a barrier against the agony, trying to hold the inevitable off as long as possible. However, the Warriors inside his sword screamed at him as they united against him to bar his path to the sword’s magic, cheering his death, even though they dreaded being locked inside the sword with him for eternity. The townspeople cheered as his screams filled the night. Yet, all Mephalus could hear was the roar of the flames, the sizzling of the blood on his cheek from where the arrow struck him. He fought to breathe, but only drew in heated air which scorched his lungs, devouring his oxygen. Then everything went black and he felt himself falling. He never felt himself hit the ground, however.

The pain disappeared. So did the sky and the ground, even the townspeople and those insufferable Sidhe Warriors. He glanced around and all he saw was darkness. He looked down, but not even his hands or arms were visible.



Reaping the Harvest Book 1




About the Author:
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Robbie lives in sunny Florida where he spends his days where he can usually be found tucked away on his back porch with a cup of coffee while working on his latest manuscript. He has enjoyed a freelance career writing for several magazines, sharing some of his interesting viewpoints on life and those around him. While he enjoys traveling with great friends and their family. Most often, he can be found at home grilling out and sharing a laugh with those who matter most to him.
After publishing his first book in 2013, Robbie realized he is not satisfied writing in one genre. Robbie is the author of the Warrior of the Way series, an urban fantasy that takes place along the Indian River in Florida, and several contemporary romance series, such as the Rutherford series, Fangirls, and the Harper Twins. He also has written a paranormal romance, Come Halloween, as well as a Christmas story, Ribbons & Bows. While currently finishing his Warrior of the Way series, Robbie has enough works-in-progress to keep him writing for the next fifteen years in all genres.

Friday, September 23, 2016

Jamie McFarlane guest post: The pros and cons of being a wizard in a witchy world. (Wicked Folk book tour) + giveaway

If you catch me on a bad day, you'll find I secretly wish I were allowed to see the world as the mundanes in the world around me do. To wake up and drive to Starbucks on the way to my mundane job, where I'll meet my co-workers and sit at my desk, and do whatever things mundane folks might do behind their endless array of desks behind those vast walls of glass and cubicles. I wish for this life because I know these mundanes have long ago exchanged knowledge of things that go bump in the night for the safety of ignorance. It is on days like this that I most wish to walk down the street and not smell the telltale scent of werewolves on the hunt, or catch a glimpse of a troll's disguise faltering under the bright sun. For me the burden of knowledge is born not because I am willing, but because I've been of this world from birth.

Now that you know how I feel when I'm low, you should know about the incredible joy I find being a wizard in a witchy world. The mundane world seeks to trivialize the supernatural. By far the most difficult and therefore the most affected are the witches, who are often portrayed as nutty old woman, with crazy looks in their eyes, rambling on about this and that. For me, reality could not be further from the truth, for you see, I was raised by a witch and her coven. Now, you need to understand, I'm not a witch myself, but instead I'm a wizard. While the difference is significant, it's not incredibly important for our purposes here.

At an early age, I was abandoned by my mother and placed into foster care. Honestly, I don't remember much about her and even less about my father. While I struggled as any kid would under those circumstances, it wasn't until I was in my early teens that my powers first started manifesting. As it turns out, I ended up burning down the high-school gymnasium at my school and this was where Judy, a local witch stepped in and rescued me. It is the beauty of these women, that I would miss the most if I were mundane. It is a rare treat for a wizard to be allowed into the inner workings of an active coven, but Judy and her sisters accepted me as their own. It is with these women that I have experienced the joy of feeling fully accepted by not just the people around me but also very universe itself.


Wicked Folk (Witchy World Book Two)
by Jamie McFarlane
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Fickle Dragon Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-943792-12-2
Number of pages: 266
Word Count: 86,837
Cover Artist: Silviya Yordanova
Late one night, a teenaged witch witnesses her uncle perform the forbidden ritual to summon a demon. His carelessness results in the demon breaking free and being released into the world. Drawn to the young witch's powers like a shark, the demon is only temporarily thwarted when she manages to escape.

Felix Slade is a wizard living far from the family he grew up with. Recently he's been unable to sleep as night after night a beautiful young witch is stalked by a demon in his dreams. Each night, new details are exposed and Felix is soon convinced that it’s up to him to prevent the woman’s demise. The dreams reach a critical point when Felix’s own family is threatened by the violence he’s sure is yet to come.

With his sister and the woman he loves by his side, Felix rushes to face the greatest challenge he’s encountered yet. There is great darkness inside him and he must choose to embrace or reject it in order to face the demon’s evil.



Excerpt:
Summoned

Faa Farmstead, just outside Eppy Faire, five years ago 


Lace Faa stared out at the waning crescent moon through the wavy glass of the old farmhouse window, wishing for even the slightest breeze. The day's heat refused to dissipate from the humid, summer air which clung to her as she tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep. As if on command, a slight puff of wind rustled the sheer curtains of her second floor window, carrying with it the faint sound of chanting. She strained her ears, curiosity piqued, wondering who might be working her family's hidden craft so late at night. Her gaze shifted to the barn across the gravel driveway. A flickering glow between weathered siding exposed the presence of lit candles and a ritual in progress. 

She dropped her legs over the side of the bed and placed her feet in just the right spot to keep the weathered floor from creaking. At the age of sixteen, Lace wasn't fully initiated in the subtle magics of her kin, but moving silently had been drilled into her from an early age. She walked carefully, rolling from heel to toe along the unseen joists that supported the floor, avoiding loose boards as she slipped from bedroom to hallway. The hem of her white cotton nightgown thumped quietly, caressing the wooden stair treads as she descended to the kitchen. 

For a moment, she paused at the screen door and considered its habit of screeching when opened. Wetting forefinger and thumb in her mouth, she rubbed them on the old, rusted top hinge. Tall and slender, Lace slipped through the door, opening it only a crack. Relief from the heat held in the old house was welcome as she picked her way gingerly across the gravel. Her eyes focused on the flickering light leaking from the ancient barn. 

Lace negotiated the piles of junk that had found their final resting place next to the building and carefully placed both hands on the rough siding, leaning forward to look through one of the many cracks in its façade. Her eye came to rest on the edge of a white circle, drawn on the dirt floor only feet from her position. With her limited view, she glimpsed two black candles burning brightly at the tips of what she suspected was a pentagram, although without full view of the circle, she couldn't know for certain. 

"Phezore Gesteriph Feoro, I summon you." The bold voice, her uncle Willum Gordon's, resumed chanting in the ancient language Lace believed was only known by her extended family. Her heart thudded in her chest, recognizing the simple ritual - if only from her reading. 

"Oh, Willum," she whispered involuntarily before bringing her hand to her mouth. 

"Who's there?" Willum asked loudly from within the barn. 

Lace stepped back, startled, catching her heel on a piece of long forgotten machinery. She spun, trying to save herself, but in the poor light her knee came in contact with a stack of precariously balanced wooden crates. She lunged from her position, diving away from the collapsing junk, all pretense of stealth abandoned. The tall door of the barn slid open as she twisted, trying to free her legs. 

"Madge?" Willum asked, the low angle of wavering candles illuminating him eerily from behind. 

Lace hastily scrawled a rune in the air with her finger, turning away from Willum's position so he wouldn't see the faint sparkling trail as she did. As an initiate of her clan's magic, she'd mastered the one spell that had come easily to her – shadow walk. 

Willum stepped from the barn, closing the door behind him. Lace used the noise to her advantage and gained her feet, moving slowly from her original position. Willum turned and stared directly at her, standing stock still – a hunter trying to locate its quarry. Lace froze. She knew him to be cruel when cornered and he would not take kindly to her spying on his ritual. A weak practitioner by family standards, he'd often taken out his frustrations on her. With the provocation of an interrupted ritual, Lace well understood the danger she'd placed herself in. 

Willum took a few steps forward, cutting the distance between them in half. Lace breathed slowly, trying to calm her heart, the lack of oxygen demanding deeper breaths. Swiping the air between them, Willum moved toward her. Slowly, she stepped aside, anticipating his movements. Sweat beaded on her forehead as his fingers came within inches of her face.


About the Author:
Jamie McFarlane is a graduate of Colorado School of Mines with a Master of Science in Mathematics. An avid reader, tinkerer, woodworker and metal sculptor, Jamie is just as likely to be seen smelting aluminum cans in his garage as he is tacking random, discarded iron objects into a small army of beasties that adorn his home’s landscaping.

Jamie’s writing career began as something of a dare which later turned into a tribute. In his late teens, Jamie was well known as the family story-teller, spinning fanciful yarns about ordinary events, usually with the objective of escaping well-deserved trouble.

One day, his mother, often the target of his mischievous tales, challenged him to commit his words to writing. Jamie promised he would but time passed, as did his beloved mother. In 2014, Jamie made good on his promise and published his first book.

Jamie is the author of a growing library of novels and novellas including the space opera series - Privateer Tales, and the urban fantasy series - Witchy World. Jamie lives in Lincoln, Nebraska with his wife and enjoys spending time with family and friends.


Tour Giveaway 
2 $10 Amazon Gift Cards

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