Saturday Spotlight – Kenrickey by SC Dane

by Sarah | Feb 7, 2014 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Saturday Spotlight, Writing

| [amazon_link id=”B00GXJCJ8S” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | Melange Books | BN | Smashwords | Kobo |

In the northern Maine woods, a wolf pack unlike any other reigns the landscape. With the ability to shift into human shape, they are the supreme rulers of their territory. Until the real humans threaten their secret realm…

Ken Rickey is one of those humans. Until he’s entrusted with the secret of the wolf-people, an honor he’ll do anything to uphold. For among the wolf-people, Ken has found loyal friends in Armand and Eaen, two of the younger wolves in Luna’s pack who share his sense of adventure.

Welcoming them to his human world and keeping them safe isn’t going to be easy, especially when there are those who suspect the truth.

An intuitive woman, Naomi Foss is quick to unearth the mystery of Ken’s two friends. Human they may seem, but there is a wildness about them which is fast consuming Ken, altering him in extraordinary ways.

But the acceptance of Naomi plunges Ken and his wolf friends into dangerous territory, where the exposure of Luna’s pack becomes a lethal reality. Can these young lovers and friends stand against the threat while keeping their secret from those who hunt them?

*~*

EXCERPT:

            We cavorted for quite some time—chasing, snatching, biting. Armand, once he’d gotten over his initial fear, darted around just as uninhibited as the rest of us; although he and Eaen were careful about shifting in front of Naomi.

I, on the other hand, shed all of my inhibitions, and the mock hunt for Nae escalated seriously. I wanted her bouncing ass all to myself, and her playful screams were jabs of electricity to my groin.

She didn’t run very fast once she caught me ogling her like she was an entrée. Good ol’ Nae. She even feigned a limp so that I could corner her in the living room. She darted her eyes around like a trapped deer, and wedged herself into the corner by the book shelf, protecting her back. Then she lifted her upper lip in a warning snarl, even as her hazel eyes glistened and her pupils stretched to turn her eyes almost black. Her blonde hair was tousled and sweaty, and I’d never seen a creature more inviting.

My mouth found hers before I could say no guts, no glory, and sweet living jackrabbits, she opened herself to me. It was all I could do not to slide Mr. Plucky into home once the ump signaled for me to steal. Her tongue teased, tasted me, then retreated maddeningly, and I withdrew just far enough to clamp my teeth across her windpipe and cup her ass in my hands.          She gasped, and my groin ached as it grew more swollen.

The ringing of her cell phone was like the screech of a car crash, and we both flinched at the intrusion of it. Naomi groaned as she slid away toward her pile of clothes on the living room floor. Eaen and Armand stood with their legs splayed, sides heaving, and wore tendrils of frothy spit on their fur. I stood with my need so obvious my balls hurt.

            Christ, guys.

Eaen winked, the teasing turd. He saw. He’d noticed we’d all gone a bit nuts, and he loved it. Armand’s waving tail gave him away, too, but the three of us paid more attention to Nae’s cell phone call.

It was The Bear, and he wanted her and his car. She’d been gone too long already, judging by her end of the conversation. She’d promised to be back before lunch and it was past that. My, how time really does fly when you’re having fun.

She told him she’d be right there, then snapped the lid shut on her phone. And I got an unexpected explosion of jealousy in my guts.

“Don’t go, Nae. Stay with us,” I offered, and fought like hell to keep my anger from boiling over into my voice. A feat beyond me, I wasn’t exactly successful. “Tell him to fuck himself.” Oh, yeah, I was really trying.

“I can’t, Ken. Not yet, anyway, but soon,” she promised.

            Was she crying? “Aw, Christ, Nae, don’t cry.” She effing leveled me. I was a mud puddle waiting to catch her tears, and before I knew it, my feet crossed the room and my arms were wrapped around her. I’d have sacrificed daylight for her.

“Come back later, then, huh?” I pulled her away to lose myself in her shimmering eyes, which had turned green because she cried. “I’ll come get you. Just call me, and I’ll come, okay? Whenever you want.” My fingers combed her tousled bangs, tucking their length behind her seashell ear.

She nodded and sniffed, and my heart cracked. Jee-zus, how was I letting her leave?

I wiped her tears with the pad of my thumb, pulled her warm body close, then ripped myself away and edged a fair distance back to stand between Eaen and Armand while we watched her dress. Weren’t we the gentlemen? When she finished donning her clothes, the four of us huddled to say good-bye.

“We really have to talk, Nae. Soon,” I said, before she slipped out the door and into the Yeti’s car. Within moments, she was gone, but even I could still smell the snowy day in our house.

| [amazon_link id=”B00GXJCJ8S” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | Melange Books | BN | Smashwords | Kobo |

Saturday Spotlight – The Garnet Dagger by Andrea Cooper

by Sarah | Jan 17, 2014 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Saturday Spotlight, Writing

| [amazon_link id=”B00BS9HTBK” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | Crimson Romance | BN | iTunes |

The Garnet Dagger Blurb: Everyone knows what happens when a vampire bites a human…but what if the victim is Elvin?

Forbidden to cross the Elvin barrier into human lands, Brock cannot sate his curiosity. Cursed by a vampyre bite that forces him to feed on the life-essence of others, he is unable to touch another without taking their life. Chained by prophesy, he must find a witch, pierce her heart, and draw her blood for his cure.

Celeste must escape the monks who have held her prisoner for years. Her magic has been kept dormant by her captors. An ancient powerful Warloc craves her powers. If he succeeds in devouring her magic, she and his world will die.

When Brock falls in love with Celeste before realizing her demise is his cure, will love triumph over his desire to be healed? Will he risk everything to save her from a Warloc, an oath breaker, who also wants her dead?

*~* 

The Garnet Dagger Excerpt:  Chapter One

I’ve known death. For over half a millennia, I escorted many to death at the end of my sword. In the eyes of the dying, I watched it shroud them. Foolishly, I thought many more eras would pass before death came for me. It came so swiftly that I could not run; I could not escape. At a village, dressed in human clothes, I took in everything. By observing for eons, I understood and spoke their language. The world of mankind fascinated me. Their hobbled homes burrowed into the ground.

Rocks crunched on top one another with thatched roofs woven from straw. Never had I seen a home or inn that was higher than three levels, as if they were afraid of the sky. I delayed my return to my people as I watched human jugglers bounce torches and knifes. It was autumn equinox and the festivities would continue well into the night. Children laughed as they chased each other. A trail of leaves from their costumes twirled after them. It was dark when I reached the forest. Since I was already late, I hiked uphill to a shortcut rather than take the long path back home. I didn’t need to alert any of my kind near the barrier at this hour. Liana would wonder why I was late.

Tonight was the two month anniversary of our hand twining ceremony. One more month as was custom, and then we’d be wed. A gasp rustled through the trees. The roots shot a warning through to me with stifled caution. Adjusting my pack, I continued on instead of changing back into my Elvin clothes. After I passed the border which kept humans from entering our land, then I’d change. In the distance, I heard a groan. Curious, I spun in the direction of the sound. The autumn wind breezed through my worn human clothes, chilling me. But someone needed help. I turned in the direction of the sounds. Whatever made the noise should be a few yards ahead.

I hiked slower than my normal speed, so as not to startle whatever human called out. My leather boots crunched upon dried, diseased leaves and bark. Horrified, I glanced up. Branches twisted around each other to suffocating. Lifeless limbs cracked in the wind. Flesh of the trees sloughed off in layers, exposing its bones. Gashes hollowed out chunks of warmth. Fragments of leaves clung to finger tips, marking sepulchers of the dying trees. Trees mourned with wails like splitting wood, and I brought my hands over my ears. I must flee before I became infected, they told me. Flee before the stain of this defilement creeps into you, they warned. Trees spoke to my kind, always had. Yet these trees were in such agony of death that I could not breathe. Felt as though my lungs had folded in on themselves, like a moth unable to break loose from its cocoon.

Nothing I could do for them, and if I lingered too long, whatever disease gnawed upon them may choke me. Where would I go if I carried something so foul as to devour trees from the inside out? I’d never return to Tamlon if I brought this infection with me. I drew away, but a movement at the base of a decaying tree to my right caught me. My night vision picked up the sight of a human. His sallow face seemed to glow in the moonlight. Poking out from rags lay his arms and legs, which resembled skin stretched over sticks. So cadaverous was his face, I’d have thought him dead if he hadn’t moved.

“Please,” he said and his voice sounded like cicada’s vibrations, “help me.”

“What ails you in this troubled place?” I wondered if my voice, foreign to my ears in speaking the human’s language, revealed my nature.

“I am lost.” His dark eyes crinkled around the corners. “Without strength to rise. If you would but assist me up, I’ll be on my way.”

I’d never touched a human on purpose before. Was it that that gave me pause, or dread that stilled my heart? My feet itched to flee. As soon as I helped him, then I’d leave. I gritted my teeth and reached a hand down.

His gnarled fingers snapped on my arm, making me wince. Jerking me forward, his face contorted. Surprised by his strength, I fell beside him. Blackness curled around me. Teeth, fangs, broke through the skin on my neck. Then I knew him for what he was, a vampyre.

*~* 

Andrea’s Bio: Growing up in Houston, Texas, Andrea has always created characters and stories. But it wasn’t until she was in her late twenties that she started writing novels.

What happened that ignited the writing flame in her fingers? Divorced, and disillusioned by love songs and stories. They exaggerate. She thought. Love and Romance are not like that in the real world. Then she met her husband and realized, yes love and romance are exactly like the songs and stories say. She is now a happy wife, and a mom to three kids (two boys and a girl).

Andrea writes paranormal and historical romance. When not writing or reading, one may find Andrea dancing in Zumba.

She believes in the power of change and counting each moment as a blessing. But most importantly, she believes in love.

The Garnet Dagger Book Trailer  http://youtu.be/ISi0u9LoseM

Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/AndreaRCooper.author

Twitter: @AndreaRCooper

Author Website: www.AndreaRCooper.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6934877.Andrea_R_Cooper

Blog: http://andrearcooperauthorblog.wordpress.com/

Fight Card Romance: Ladies Night by Jill Tunney

by Sarah | Oct 26, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Saturday Spotlight, Writing

| [amazon_link id=”B00EZWT8XY” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] |

FIGHT CARD ROMANCE: LADIES NIGHT

L.A. 1954 … gangsters, crime, young love and – murder.

Boxing hopeful, Jimmy Doherty’s in the fight of his life to save his bride, Lindy, from a murder rap before both of them wind up on a slab.

*~* 

MY FAVORITE EXCERPT FROM “LADIES NIGHT” IS:  when Lindy, the young bride of the boxing hopeful, Jimmy Doherty, arrested for the murder of another boxer, is placed in a jail cell where she meets two “pro-skirts” – prostitutes.

Lindy turned and strained to see into the shadows of the cells further away from hers, toward the laughter. She thought she was alone in the large depressing room.

The voice came again. “Keep you pants on, Bertha May. Don’t mean no harm.”

“Well, watch yourself,” Bertha May said, turning around to stalk back to her post. A moment later, she got up from her chair and left the cell block.

Lindy continued to stare in the direction the voice had come from. “Hello. Who’s there?”

“Hey, chicky, it’s me.”

Two cells across and down from Lindy’s, a woman’s hands appeared through the bars. “Saw you come in today. Guess they pinched you, too.”

“Pinched?” Lindy said confused.

“Yeah, you know. Got snatched up by the heat, put the screws to, given a vacation in the big-house.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“You was arrested, right?”

“Yes,” Lindy said hanging her head until it banged against the hard steel bars.

“So whatcha do? They catch you wearing iron tryin’ to pop one of your johns.”

Another female voice chimed in, “No, Daisy. Miss Priss ain’t never been a night-lady like us.”

The first woman turned around to look behind her at someone else in her cell. “That right, Louella?”

The second woman, who must have been laying down on one of the cots, stood and glanced across the aisle at Lindy through the gloom. “Cain’t you see just by lookin’ at her she ain’t no pro-skirt. That’s a right fine dress she’s a wearing. Classy. Not like you and me. Ain’t that right, honey?”

“No. I’m not a …” Lindy waved her hands looking for the appropriate word.

“It’s all right, honey. We know who we are and what we do. It ain’t no crime.” She and her companion burst out laughing. “Well, I guess it is a crime.”

“That is unless the chief and the squad boys want some.” Both women guffawed.

“Done that one a time or two,” Louella said.

Lindy recognized the women now. They were the two pro-skirts, ladies-of-ill-repute, who were sitting in the waiting area.

Louella, a Negro woman, was dressed much like her companion – short, tight skirt, overly stretched-sweater pulled low exposing most of what the good lord blessed them with. They’d teased their hair up into the mile-high beehives – Daisy’s, fire engine red and Louella’s, an unnatural midnight black.

Even in the dark, Lindy could see their make-up hadn’t survived the day. Most of it had floated south on their faces like a slow-moving river making them look like sad circus clowns. Daisy especially. Or had she been crying?

“So, if you ain’t one of us, who’d you mug or rub out?” Daisy said.

“I was arrested for the murder of Rocko Russo, the fighter.”

“Ain’t no way,” Louella said. “You tellin’ the truth?”

“Yes. Rocko’s dead. But I didn’t kill him.”

“Of course not, honey,” Louella said. “A little thing like you couldn’a hurt a fly let alone that horrible monster. That big brute had some mean muscle on him, went all the way to the bone all right.”

“And a terrible mean fist,” Daisy said, sadness on her make-up smeared face.

Lindy was afraid to ask. She could only guess how they were acquainted with Rocko and she hurt for them.

“So, DeLuca, he’s the one that nabbed you?” Louella said, threading her arms through the bars. “He’s a looker, that one. Um-mmm. That’s right. Mighty fine.”

“You ever do him?” Daisy turned to Louella.

“Nah. He’s a saint. Waiting on Miss Right an all.”

“Say, chickie.” Daisy turned to Lindy. “You and DeLuca …” Daisy winked.

“What?” Lindy felt the blood drain from her head. “Absolutely not. I’m married.”

“That right?” Louella perked up. “Who’s the lucky man?”

Lindy smiled for the first time in many hours. “He’s a boxer and such a wonderful, handsome man.”

“You don’t say? What’s his name? Maybe I know him.” Her smile was sly.

Lindy hoped she was teasing. “Jimmy Doherty. Won his first bout last Friday night.”

Louella shook her head. “Remember, Daisy. We was with Rocko till nearly midnight after his fight before he ditched us and took off.”

There was a deep sorrow etched on Daisy’s face and for the first time, Lindy saw the remnants of what looked like a mouse under Daisy’s eye. “Oh, yeah. I remember.”

Louella broke the somber mood that fell over the cellblock. “So what now, honey? You just coolin’ your heels in stir with us here big-time mama’s?”

Louella shook her dark head and hooted a bawdy laugh. “That just don’t seem right, a pretty little thing like you accused of murderin’ that no good, dirty snake. Not right at all. DeLuca’ll find out the truth. Yes, sir. Ain’t right. At least that bugger ain’t goin’ hurt us no more.”

What had Rocko done to these two women? Lindy could only imagine and she didn’t like what she thought. She couldn’t understand how women like Daisy and Louella could shame themselves and take up the oldest profession. She wished she could help them, take away their troubles and removed them from the filthy, self-degrading way they had to make a living. But what could she do?

*~* 

AUTHOR BIO: 

Carol Malone successfully combines her three passions – writing, sports, and romance to become the very first woman to climb into the boxing ring of a male-dominated series called Fight Card. Think Rocky meets The Untouchables, Carol’s written a mash-up of happily ever after with kick-in-the-pants, fist-pounding action.

If not hammering out new tales to entice her readers to scramble into a front row seat for thrilling tales of physical endurance and tender passion, Carol’s reading, watching sports on TV, or hanging with her end-of-the-world author husband on the cool coast of California. To talk sports and amour, and learn about Carol’s latest book releases, visit Carol on her website: www.carolmalone.net.

Simple Man by Lydia Michaels

by Sarah | Oct 25, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Saturday Spotlight, Writing

| SCP |

Blurb:

Months after Shane Martin’s sister vanishes, life crashes down and he finds himself the guardian of a nephew he never knew existed. Blissfully ignorant, Shane trades in his musician status, full of late nights and fast women, for midnight feedings and lullabies. But when Kate McAlister, his prissy, stuck up caseworker, arrives unexpectedly, he realizes he could lose everything.

Kate isn’t impressed by Shane’s messy bachelor pad, rocker image, or sexy tattoos. As a matter of fact she finds it all very sophomoric. The sooner she’s off the case the better. Everything from his long hair to his sarcastic attitude threatens her professionalism. But when he lowers his guard and asks for help, she discovers a side to this tattooed musician she can’t resist. Behind this simple man is an unsung hero.

Book Trailer:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwSnY5u_sak

Simple Man is told strictly from the male hero’s POV and takes readers on a comical and heartwarming journey.

EXCERPT

When Duce left, Shane sifted through the bag. There were tiny diapers, wipes, some sort of yoga mat thing, a bunch of creams. He laughed when he saw something called Butt Paste. That was self-explanatory.

There was something resembling a miniature turkey baster. He found clothes, itty-bitty socks, a knit cap, a few rattles, two containers of formula, some bottles, and a small booklet with doctor’s visits listed in it. He recognized the writing as his sister’s and a strange, sad nostalgia settled over him.

Was she here watching him now? “He’s beautiful, Noel,” he whispered. “I’m gonna do this. Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out and I’ll take good care of him for you. You’ll see.”

By the time Duce returned Shane was reading the bottle of formula. “What’s that?” his friend asked as he plopped down the paper takeout bag of food.

“Formula. I didn’t find any food. Do you think I should wake him to eat?”

“Uh, isn’t there some rule about never waking a sleeping baby?”

Shane shrugged. “Maybe I should make up a bottle so it’s ready when he does wake. He’s been sleeping for two hours. He’s gotta be hungry.”

Shane wished he had Internet. He wasn’t really computer savvy, but people were always talking about finding shit online. Duce was staring at him with a peculiar look. “What?”

“I think you should give him back.”

“Give him back? There is no back. I’m it.”

“He’s just all perfect and small. What if you fuck him up?”

“Hey, don’t curse in front of him. And I’m not going to mess him up. I just need some practice. I’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe you should ask someone who has kids what to do.”

Shane reached for an egg roll. “I don’t know anyone with kids. I have to take a class and I have a crap load of reading material.”

“When do you take the class? Maybe that was something you should have done beforehand.”

“It starts tomorrow night. I’ll be fine.”

They ate and zoned out to some reality TV. Baby Shane was so quiet they’d almost forgotten about him. Then Duce’s face began to twitch. “Dude, what’s that smell?”

Shane sniffed and choked. Whatever it was, it was powerful enough to make his eyes water. “Aw man, did you fart?”

“Wasn’t me.”

In unison, they slowly turned to the baby who still slept soundly. He leaned over and sniffed, almost gagging as he jerked back. “Holy crap! How could something so pintsize smell that bad?”

Duce covered his mouth and went to the window, quickly opening it to let some air in. The little guy made a tiny nook-nook sound and his miniature fist curled up by his chin in a dainty stretch. He looked like the fighting Irish.

“It’s moving,” Duce whispered as though the baby were a bomb about to detonate. And suddenly an explosion happened.

Baby Shane’s face screwed up tight, turning an unnatural shade of red. His mouth opened wide, showing nothing but pink gums, and an unholy squawk roared out of him.

They jumped and stared as the baby screamed, his little chest working in quick breaths as he drew in only enough air to force out another shrill, squawking cry.

“Do something!” Duce demanded.

Shane panicked. He reached for the book and began to thumb through, not sure what he was looking for.

“Don’t fucking read! Pick it up!” Duce snapped.

Shane tossed the book on the couch and quickly kneeled in front of the angry baby. He wailed and Shane began to freak. Was he in pain? Ugh, the smell coming off of him was burning the back of his throat. “Sweet Jesus, he stinks!”

He quickly removed the soft blanket. Shane was strapped down with some sort of five-point harness a person needed a degree in engineering to figure out. He pressed buttons and undid latches, shaking with the urgent need to make him stop screaming.

Sweat seeped through the baby’s tiny cotton jumper. The closer he got the worse the stench became.

“I thought babies were supposed to smell good?” Duce said, fanning the front door to let some air in.

“So did I. I can’t figure out how to unbuckle him!”

“Hit the red buttons on the side. You gotta get the handle out of the way.”

Sweat trickled into his eyes as he tried to dismantle the carrier. Finally he had the harness undone. “Now what?”

“Pick it up!”

“He stinks!”

Duce scowled. “So, my ear drums are about to burst. You gotta get in there. Tough it out. Take one for the team!”

Shane carefully picked up the screaming baby. He held him in front of his chest like a potted plant. He was so incredibly light. “What now?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who’s supposed to be Mr. Mom. Comfort it. Pat its back. Sing or something!”

Shane stood and awkwardly turned, swaying slightly. He didn’t want to shake him and break him. He sang the first song that came to his mind, wincing at the lyrics about loaded guns.

Duce’s mouth fell open. “Teen Spirit? Really? How about Rock-a-bye Baby?”

“I don’t know Rock-a-bye Baby. Nirvana’s the first thing that popped into my head.”

“It’s not really appropriate, Shane,” Duce said coolly as if he were suddenly more qualified than him with babies.

“You wanna try?”

“No, I’m set.”

He continued to sing Teen Spirit and eventually Baby Shane quieted. Blue eyes stared back at him and slowly the world began to settle.

Shane was sweating and Duce looked petrified.

“Hi,” Shane said. The baby blinked. “I’m your Uncle Shane.”

“I don’t think he can talk.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Buy Links:

www.LydiaMichaels.org

http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=736&zenid=3a35226c8c546aac1f9dc4ba86c933a0