January 2016 Bewitching Book Tours Magazine

Bewitching Book Tours Magazine Issue 41 January 2016

Bewitching Book Tours Magazine is a publication of Bewitching Book Tours and Bewitching Books.

Editor: Roxanne Rhoads Design Editor and Layout: Lisa McGeen Contributors include Bewitching Book Tours Authors and Tour Hosts learn more at www.bewitchingbooktours.blogspot.com Ad space rates are: $40 full page ad $20 half page ad $10 quarter page ad You can subscribe to this magazine at http://issuu.com/bewitchingbooktours Š Copyright 2016 Stock images from www.123rf.com and www.pixabay.com

Did you read our previous issue?

Table of Contents January 2016

Page 16 Top Ten Book Couples with Angela McGurk Page 21 Five Things That Suck Me Into a Horror Film or Novel with Kathleen Collins Page 25 Author Interview with Leyla Kader Dahm Page 28 Character Interview with Annabeth Prescott from Annabeth Neverending by Leyla Kader Dahm Page 35 Jessica Aspen’s Favorite Fairytale Characters Page 41 5 Things You May Not Know About TF Walsh Page 44 Monsters Need Love Too by Lisa Medley Page 48 Interview with Paul Barrett Page 53 Character Interview with Corberin of Draymed, from Whisper of Death by Paul Barrett Page 56 Feature The Deepest Well by Juliette Cross Page 59 Feature Strange Girl by Christopher Pike Page 76 Top Ten Kickass Heroines by Lori Sjoberg Page 83 Alphas in the Wild by Ann Gimpel Page 91 Divide and Conquer by Carmen Fox Page 94 Interview with Theresa DaLayne Page 101 Sands of Time by Christine Church Page 103 The Desire Series by Roxanne Rhoads

What Makes Bewitching Book Tours Different From Other Virtual Book Tour Companies?

Bewitching Book Tours has been in business since 2010 making us one of the oldest virtual book tour companies around. We know book promotion.

Our authors are our number one priority. This is not a hobby or a side job in addition to the day job. This is our day job, which means we put our authors first.

Bewitching Book Tours offers multiple tour packages and services for authors- we have one day packages for cover reveals, release day blitzes, and one day tours. We also offer one week, two week and one month tours. Bewitching also offers Kindle Free Book Blitz tours to promote your Kindle free book for up to five days. Other services we offer are Twitter parties, Facebook parties, Press Release Writing, and radio interviews.

Custom packages are available.

Bewitching has optional special features including a monthly magazine, a BlogTalk Radio Show and we offer custom Bewitching Book swag creations such as bookmarks, keychains, purse charms and more.

The most important things about Bewitching is that your book starts receiving promotion as soon as you sign up with Bewitching. A media kit is created, tour banners are made, and a page goes up on the Bewitching Blog announcing your upcoming tour. An invitation is sent out to all the Bewitching Tour Hosts and your upcoming tour is shared throughout our vast network of social media which includes multiple Facebook pages and accounts, Tsu, Twitter, Google +, Pinterest, Tumblr, and other book social sites.

Immediately your book has been put in front of thousands of book lovers. And we don’t stop there. We continue to work on your tour scheduling tour stops, reviews and more depending on your tour package chosen.

Once your tour is set up we send you the tour schedule, materials and instructions so there is no confusion. You return requested materials to Bewitching and we handle the rest.

Once your tour has started we promote every single tour stop every day on multiple social media platforms several times throughout the day. Combine this exposure with the daily tour hosts’ and the author’s social media promotion of the tour stops and you have your book in front of thousands of readers every day.

Even after the tour Bewitching continues working for you. Your name and web link will be listed on our blog as a client and your tour pages will be archived, not removed. So they will always be available for readers to access. If Bewitching has special events in the future like calls for submissions, holiday contests or other multi-author events you will be invited to participate.

Coming Soon

Bewitching Book Tour Packages and Pricing Book sales will magically soar during one of our spellbinding virtual book tours Bewitching Book Tours specialize in tours for paranormal, urban fantasy, and paranormal erotica books with prices just right for any author's budget

Every tour package includes:  a custom media kit  custom tour button and banners including a facebook header banner  the option to offer review copies to bloggers- the number of reviews actually received during a tour are not guaranteed- they depend on blogger participation  two tour pages at Bewitching Book Tours (one invitation tour page announcing the upcoming tour and one final tour page with schedule)  distribution to our mailing list of over 600 tour hosts  Daily promotion throughout the Bewitching social media outlets including multiple facebook pages and accounts, twitter, and google plus

Giveaways are not necessary during tours but they are highly encouraged. Giveaways draw many more readers and viewers to tour stops plus they help increase your social media followers.

We utilize Rafflecopter entry forms so you can offer one prize package or several throughout your tourwinners are chosen at the end of the tour. $47.50 will get you the Release Day Blitz One day book release blitz includes  Posting on up to 20 blogs which will include- tour banner, your book info, excerpts, and fun tidbits (character profiles, music playlists, etc or whatever other materials you would like to provide)  a custom media kit  custom tour button and banners including a facebook header banner  the option to offer review copies to bloggers- the number of reviews actually received during a tour are not guaranteed- they depend on blogger participation  two tour pages at Bewitching Book Tours (one invitation tour page announcing the upcoming tour and one final tour page with schedule)  distribution to our mailing list of over 600 tour hosts  Daily promotion throughout the Bewitching social media outlets including multiple facebook pages and accounts, twitter, and google plus The release day blitz can be purchased alone or added to another tour package

$50.00 will get you the week long Bewitched Book Blitz Tour Your will receive 1 week of tour stops  Posting on approximately 5-7 stops which will include- tour banner, your book info, guest blogs, interviews, excerpts, and fun tidbits (character profiles, music playlists, etc or whatever other materials you would like to provide)  a custom media kit  custom tour button and banners including a facebook header banner  the option to offer review copies to bloggers- the number of reviews actually received during a tour are not guaranteed- they depend on blogger participation  two tour pages at Bewitching Book Tours (one invitation tour page announcing the upcoming tour and one final tour page with schedule)  distribution to our mailing list of over 600 tour hosts  Daily promotion throughout the Bewitching social media outlets including multiple facebook pages and accounts, twitter, and google plus This tour is perfect for an author to get a taste of how a book tour works Great for new releases or for the backlist book that could use a sales boost $85 will get you the 2 week Cast a Magic Spell Tour 2 weeks of tour stops

 Posting on approximately 10-14 stops which will include- tour banner, your book info, guest blogs, interviews, excerpts, and fun tidbits (character profiles, music playlists, etc or whatever other materials you would like to provide)  a custom media kit  custom tour button and banners including a facebook header banner  the option to offer review copies to bloggers- the number of reviews actually received during a tour are not guaranteed- they depend on blogger participation  two tour pages at Bewitching Book Tours (one invitation tour page announcing the upcoming tour and one final tour page with schedule)  distribution to our mailing list of over 600 tour hosts  Daily promotion throughout the Bewitching social media outlets including multiple facebook pages and accounts, twitter, and google plus

$140 will get you The Spellbinding Special 1 Month Tour This is our most popular so far- with it you'll receive one month of tour stops  Posting on approximately 20 stops which will include- tour banner, your book info, guest blogs, interviews, excerpts, and fun tidbits (character profiles, music playlists, etc or whatever other materials you would like to provide)  a custom media kit  custom tour button and banners including a facebook header banner  the option to offer review copies to bloggers- the number of reviews actually received during a tour are not guaranteed- they depend on blogger participation  two tour pages at Bewitching Book Tours (one invitation tour page announcing the upcoming tour and one final tour page with schedule)  distribution to our mailing list of over 600 tour hosts  Daily promotion throughout the Bewitching social media outlets including multiple facebook pages and accounts, twitter, and google plus

Kindle Free Book Blitz $50

Is your book going free on Kindle?

Get the most out of your Kindle free days with Bewitching Book Tours We are now offering a Kindle Free Book Blitz Tour- Up to 5 days of promotion just $50- this includes:  Posting on numerous blogs that will announce that your book is free is Amazon  a custom media kit  custom tour button and banners including a facebook header banner  the option to offer review copies to bloggers- the number of reviews actually received during a tour are not guaranteed- they depend on blogger participation

 two tour pages at Bewitching Book Tours (one invitation tour page announcing the upcoming tour and one final tour page with schedule)  Daily promotion throughout the Bewitching social media outlets including multiple facebook pages and accounts, twitter, and google plus

Cover Reveals are $45 Add a live Facebook party to any package for $100 A Facebook Party includes the coordination, set up and moderation of a live Facebook party (event) page. The party will last for about two hours.

A party page will be created and moderated by Bewitching Book Tours.

This is a great way to interact with readers. They can post questions and the author can answer in real time.

The author will be responsible for providing party content (book/author facts and links, quizzes, games, and prizes). Bewitching Book Tours can help with brainstorming ideas for content and prizes.

The Facebook party can be purchased by itself or added to a tour package.

Please understand Bewitching Book Tours is not responsible for missed your stops on your tour. After the tour is scheduled and all of the tour materials have been sent out, it is the responsibility of the Blogger who signed up for the tour to post materials on their designated day.

Bewitching Book Swag Bewitching Book Tours offers custom book swag creations that can be added on to tour packages or ordered separately.

We offer high quality, hand crafted, one of a kind items made to match your book. Currently we are offering beaded bookmarks, beaded keychains, purse charms, belt loop charms, wine glass charms, and earrings.

These items can be created with colored beads to match the colors in your book cover.

We can also add small charms to coordinate with book content- we have a wide variety of charms to choose from and if we don't have something that matches your book we can get it.

Some of the silver charms available are: vampire fangs, wolves, witch hats, keys and locks, books, hearts, haunted houses, bats, foxes, hamsas, dragons, sugar skulls, rhinestone skull and crossbones, high heeled shoes, Fleur de lis, masquerade masks, owls and many more.

You can also opt to have the items completely customized by adding your book cover to a metal charm.

The book covers are encased in small metal photo frame charms and sealed in resin for a high quality charm that looks fabulous and is very durable.

Our goal is to create custom book swag that represents your book.

Hello, lovely people! I’d like to share with you my top ten book couples, starting with my absolute favourites…

1.

Merit & Ethan – Chicagoland Vampires by Chloe Neill

What more can you want than a thoroughly sexy master vampire and a slightly nerdy but totally kickass heroine? Merit is brave, strong, witty, and the perfect adversary/partner for Ethan. She keeps him on his toes and, in my opinion, gives him a little bit of life back. I truly love these two. If I could do such a thing, I would be Merit.

2.

Qhuinn & Blaylock – Lover at Last, Black Dagger Brotherhood by J. R. Ward

The relationship between Qhuinn and Blay is truly beautiful, one of loyalty and overcoming prejudices, including those of Qhuinn himself. This is the only male-male relationship on this list, but it truly deserves to be near the top. Blay has such a good heart and Qhuinn has so much to overcome, their romance kept me captivated.

3.

Zadist & Bella – Lover Awakened, Black Dagger Brotherhood by J. R. Ward

I’m a big fan of tragedy, and of love overcoming it. There are few characters as tormented as Zadist and seeing him find a degree of peace with Bella was enthralling.

4.

Jehenne & Corvus – The French Vampire Legen (Series) by Emma Leech

Anyone familiar with what I write, especially the Vampire Cohorts series, will see why I love this couple. There’s magic, passionate (if occasionally inexplicable) attraction, and there’s tragedy and devotion. Their tale is simply beautiful. It’s timeless. Although Jehenne took a little learning to love, Corvus… Well, Corvus is a keeper.

5.

Imrhein & Thorn – The Bitterbynde Trilogy by Cecilia Dart-Thornton

If it’s not clear that I like tragic love affairs by now, it soon will be. These two are another couple who have it tough. Imrhein has a rough time of it, but Thorn… well, phoar. Ranger, king, fae king… he’s enchanting and captivating and the forbidden love quality to his relationship with Imrhein is beautiful.

6.

Arwen & Aragorn – The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien

You can’t really get much more tragic than Arwen and Aragorn. She gave up her family to stay with him. She chose to live with the grief she had to bear because she was one of the last of her kind, and because she was destined to longer than him. Their story is both beautiful and sorrowful.

7.

Catherine & Bones – The Night Huntress Series by Jeaniene Frost

There’s a great many times when Cat Crawfield gets on my nerves, I admit it. But Bones… well, he’s a sexy bounty hunter vampire who reminds me of Spike from Buffy. That pretty much sells him to me.

He’s an education for Cat, in more ways than one. He teaches her how to see past prejudices she’s acquired while being anything but your typical hero. I just love the Cat-Bones romance, especially in the early books of the series.

8.

Lothaire & Elizabeth – Lothaire by Kresley Cole

This is another one where prejudices are overcome, where the couple learn from each other. On top of that, Lothaire is a real bad boy. At times he seems to verge on evil, and certainly demented. Yet that doesn’t matter, because deep down inside there’s a surprisingly good man… despite his murderous streak.

9.

Caitlin & Kane – Blood Shadows, Blackthorn Series by Lindsay Pryor

These two are both trying to get one up on each other at the start of the book. They’re adversaries who became something more. Kane has all the dominating threat that a vampire should have while also having a good heart. I love how this adversarial couple come to see so much more in each other.

10.

Eilonwy & Taran – The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander

This is an odd one, as they’re from a children’s series. However, they’re a couple that’s stuck with me.

The Prydain series as a whole stuck with me, but Eilonwy and Taran go through so much together, they come of age together, and that gives their relationship a unique quality.

Bite the Bullet Vampire Cohorts Book One Angela Louise McGurk Genre: Urban Fantasy Publisher: Angela Louise McGurk Date of Publication: 12 December 2015 ISBN: 9781310584299 ASIN: B018EK7082 Number of pages: 324 Word Count: 116,000 Cover Artist: Angela Louise McGurk Book Description: Let me tell you what it was to be made vampire. It wasn’t birth.

Birth implies pushing, tearing forth into the light, screaming.

Becoming immortal was to be pulled, to be tugged irrevocably into darkness, and it was silent.

I should have fought, any person should fight, but my mind had been filled with a hazy calm which forbade any battle. Struggling had been the last thing on my mind, even when my bus arrived and my assailant waved it on, dismissing my last hope of escape.

Yet my lack of rebellion was far from the most unsettling part of the stranger’s control over me. The truth was that the man could’ve asked anything of me and I would’ve complied, but he didn’t need to vocalise his request. I knew instinctively what he wanted. I sighed and surrendered myself as he held me against his front in a lover’s embrace, tipping my head and willingly giving him access to my throat.

“One day you’ll understand,” he whispered, his tone subdued. I’ve often wondered since if he was really talking to me. Perhaps he’d been talking to himself, persuading himself that one day I’d know and accept his reasons for what he’d planned for me.

I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Because when my fangs came in, my world altered irrevocably. It became somewhere dark, somewhere filled with murder and blood, where magic was sinister and where even my closest ally seemed more like an enemy... Even if he did make my heart skip a beat.

Amazon

Amazon UK

Smashwords

Excerpt: Two uniformed vampire sentries stood outside the door. They nodded to Lex and James as we approached. They also eyed me with unveiled curiosity before opening the timber access and their scrutiny made me uncomfortable.

Here we go, here was the interest that would make me feel like a specimen in a petri dish, or some newly discovered species which had previously been thought extinct.

I tried to ignore my unease, but realistically what hope did I have? Nerves caused my stomach to churn and nausea to raise its ugly head as James herded me into the building and across an entrance hall. I could hear the laughter of many people coming from a room to the left of the hallway. More people than I wanted to face, judging by the noise. Not that my reluctance mattered as it was in that direction which James propelled me.

I wasn’t given a chance to catch my breath, to prepare myself for my introduction to the cohort. I was simply thrust among them, and I swore I’d never forgive James for that act of cruelty. Silence fell the moment I entered the oppressive atmosphere of the grand dining room, with its walls panelled in dark wood and a vast number of vampires congregated inside.

Oh, hell.

They turned towards me, stared at me with increasing scorn as their expectations plummeted. They arched brows at my tattered clothing and messed up hair, and at the blood which I’d sloshed down my front during my mad dive for the bottle which James had opened. This was not going to make the sort of impression I needed, not if I wanted to make friends.

Did I want friends?

My first instinct was to run, but with Lex and James flanking me there was no way out, nowhere to escape to. I was trapped, and I was being looked at as though I were some unwelcomed insect which had crawled in from the street. That should’ve irritated me but such concerns faded away to nothing when my eyes finally met his, my Sire’s.

My maker’s.

Conn O’Dowd was as recognisable as I’d predicted, even though I hadn’t seen his face at the bus stop. His deep blue eyes caught mine and our gazes locked, held. His burned with something I couldn’t fathom, something so intense it felt familiar even though I couldn’t explain why. He was tall, broad, and even the bulk of him seemed familiar, although I’d only ever felt the press of his body against my back that once, as he drank from me. His long hair was a mix of dirty blond and brilliant golden waves, which were tied back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was stunning, Adonis like… Or Thor like. And I hated him all the more for his perfection.

He stared at me a moment longer, as if assessing my worth, as if assessing whether I deserved a place in his household. Then his expression changed. Conn looked at me as though I was one of those silly mortals who’d flocked to apply for the change, rather than as someone who had been given no choice.

He’d turned me, hadn’t he? Wasn’t it a bit late to wonder whether or not he wanted me here?

Disappointment flickered in the depth of those impossibly dark blue eyes. Then he turned away. Just like that, his attention moved on from me, refocusing on the redhead at his side. The woman laughed as he leaned over, whispering in her ear, and something welled up inside me; something dangerous and reckless.

Anger pounded through my veins until I could hear my pulse in my head. How dare he? How dare he take away my life and then turn away from me without so much as a word, especially to cavort with some woman who’d probably begged him to change her. I hated them both as they stood at the front of the room, whispering to each other.

He thought he could change me then ignore me?

He thought he could rip my life away and expect me to silently take whichever position he deemed I should fill?

To hell with that.

My anger peaked and overflowed, and when it did it triggered the strange link that bound me to my maker, just as drinking his blood had done. It dragged me forward, and I stepped away from James and Lex before either could think to stop me. I was pulled down the length of the hall by incorporeal ropes and when Conn noticed my approach he seemed surprised, uncertain.

There was so much I wanted to say to him. I wanted to ask him why he’d turned me, why he’d broken the law, and why he was lying about my consent. I wanted to rant at him, to vent my fury in a tirade of accusations and hate. Yet words wouldn’t come, they were trapped in my chest by the ball of fear and fury which painfully blocked my throat.

I acted in spite of my inability to form words, and my hand flew out of its own volition.

Crack!

The blazing red handprint I left on Conn’s cheek glowed momentarily, before his vampire ability to heal masked it from sight. Indignation hardened his expression into something cold, something frightening, and behind me a communal gasp swept through the room as every single one of the congregated vampires stared at me in disbelieving horror.

Way to make an impression, Darcy.

What the hell had I just done?

About the Author: Angela grew up in a small pit village in the county of Northumberland in England. Currently she lives in an entirely different pit village in the same county, along with her husband and their two children. She qualified in Architectural Technology and has worked in construction, as well as running her own wedding stationery and graphic design business. Currently Angela's time is taken up with chasing a three year old, a four year old and a kid in his thirties who really should know better. Between that she works, writes and draws.

She is currently writing the final book in the Vampire Cohort series while editing the first book in the series for publication, as well as trying to store up the hundred other stories which are always racing around in her mind! While a love of writing has always been part of Angela's life, in recent years it has become a daily requirement. The vampires, werewolves, gods and fae just won't leave her alone!

Among Angela's other loves are camping, kayaking, the Lake District and history. She is a bit of a sci-fi geek, a bit of a Joss Whedon fan, and has such an eclectic taste in music it would take pages to write down what she likes. http://angelamcgurk.com/ https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7516239.Angela_Louise_McGurk http://www.amazon.com/Angela-Louise-McGurk/e/B00H6FFFYI/ https://www.facebook.com/angelalouisemcgurk/ https://twitter.com/Angela_McGurk

Five Things That Suck Me Into a Horror Film or Novel When writing this several different topics came to mind, but I kept coming back to what draws me into a horror film or novel.

Below you’ll find my list of the top five things that draw me in to a horror film or novel.

1.) Someone to Root For – I need someone, or something, to root for in the story to keep me engaged. I’ll be honest, sometimes it’s the monster or the bad guy that I’m hoping will win. In most cases I’m sure that’s not what I’m supposed to be doing but that just tells me the writer didn’t do as good of a job making their characters relatable as they probably should have.

2.) The Unseen – This works better in film than on the page usually but when our characters can’t see what’s hunting them like we can, it never ceases to make me watch from the edge of my seat.

The best example of this I can think of if Thirteen Ghosts. If you haven’t seen the film, ghosts can’t be seen unless the character is wearing special glasses. So we, as the audience are treated to all these delightful, horrible images that people in the film have no clue are taking place.

3.) Horror in the Everyday – What I mean by this is when everyday objects or events become the origin point for the horror story. Stephen King is a master of this with stories like Christine, Cell, and Cujo.

Even It had this element. While it was an outside creature doing the tormenting, it was the characters own imaginations that fueled it.

4.) A Love Story – This relates in a way to number one, but for me it gets its own number. I like a little love in all my stories. It doesn’t have to romantic love. It can be the love between a parent and child or even between friends. But it raises the stakes in the story. Suddenly there’s more to be lost than just lives.

5.) The Unexpected – This is a big one for me. Some of my favorite books and movies have made that list specifically because I didn’t see some of the big twists coming. I’ve watched the Scream franchise again and again for this very reason. Though I’ve memorized what happens by this point, I can still remember the first time I saw each film and the moments that surprised me. This is what a good story is supposed to do.

So what’s a must have in your books or movies? What do you find sucks you in again and again?

Realm Walker Realm Walker Series Book One Kathleen Collins Genre: Urban Fantasy Publisher: Carina Press Date of Publication: October 28, 2013 ISBN: 9781426896545 ASIN: B00E1V5S3S Word Count: 76,000 Book Description: An estranged mate, a mangled body and a powerful demon who calls her by name…

As a Realm Walker for the Agency, Juliana Norris tracks deadly paranormal quarry using her unique ability to see magical signatures. She excels at her job, but her friends worry about her mysterious habit of dying in the line of duty without staying dead. That's only the first of her secrets.

Most people don't know Juliana became the mate of master vampire Thomas Kendrick before he abandoned her seven years ago. Most people don't know the horrors she endured at the hands of the vampire he left in command. Most people don't know her true parentage, or why a demon on a world-threatening rampage has taken a personal interest in her…

Even as Juliana pursues the demon, it goes after all she holds dear—including Thomas, who is back to claim her for his own. But if she can't reconcile her past and learn to trust herself again, she will lose him forever.

Available at Amazon BN Harlequin Print

Death’s Daughter Realm Walker Series Book 2 Kathleen Collins Genre: urban fantasy, paranormal romance Publisher: Carina press ISBN: 9781426898112 ASIN: B00GKBIR80 Word Count: 68,000 Book Description: Juliana Norris, Realm Walker with the Agency, is an Altered. A fact that she runs up against every time she’s forced to work with human police officers, and their species-ist commissioner, on cases they can’t solve themselves. Which happens more than they would like to admit.

Her gift—the quality that makes her the best Realm Walker in the business, without boast—is the ability to read magical signatures. Whether the gift came from her father, the dark fae god of death, or the mage mother she can’t remember, is anyone’s guess. And when Altered children start going missing with only wild magical signatures as clues, her heritage is the last thing on her mind.

She can’t afford such distractions, and she definitely can’t afford to worry about the fact that her mate, master vampire Thomas Kendrick, hasn’t spoken to her since she saved him from a demon—maybe it’s because she had to stab him to do so. Because whoever is kidnapping these children must be very powerful to wield wild magic. Very powerful, and very dangerous indeed.

Available at Amazon BN Harlequin Print

The Making of Michael Bishop A Realm Walker Short Story Kathleen Collins Genre: urban fantasy, dark fantasy Date of Publication: August 30, 2014 ASIN: B00N5YWPCE Number of pages: 20 Book Description: Keep your distance. Don't look him in the eye. Feed him and leave.

Michael D'Augustino is a priest in the time of the Inquisition. Marked as weak for his refusal to torture those charged with sorcery, heresy, devil

worship or worse, he's given another task. Feed the prisoner in the cell in the darkest corner of the dungeon.

With the edict comes a set of instructions.

Ever obedient, Michael does exactly as he is told. Until the night his charge doesn't eat and Michael has to enter the cell to find out why. Instead of the beast he believes to be imprisoned there, he finds a man. A broken, tormented man who asks for help.

But all is not as it seems and, before the night is through, Michael will be changed forever.

Available at Amazon and BN

Blood Slave Realm Walker Series Book 3 Kathleen Collins Can she find a killer in a town where the basest desires are allowed to run free?

There are zombies in the Dead Zone and Juliana Norris is sent to take care of the problem. And for there to be zombies, there had to be bodies.

When vampires are found to be the culprits, Juliana is sent undercover in the red light district of Kansas City. Lying to her mate, Thomas Kendrick, isn’t something she wants to do, but she’s in another vampire’s territory and Thomas would not be pleased. Besides, she’s more than capable of doing the job and she needs to prove it to everyone.

Most of all herself.

Charles Morgan is in control of the Kansas City area, making a rich living off his various enterprises. Juliana goes undercover at the strip club Lust and gets sucked into his dark, decadent world. More victims turn up and the Agency is positive they’ve got their man, but Juliana is not so sure. When the Agency refuses to listen, she reluctantly turns to Thomas for help. He intervenes but finds Juliana unaware of the danger she is in and discovers she may just be too deep for him to save.

Available at Amazon

BN iTunes

About the Author: Kathleen Collins lives and works in Missouri. By day, she labors in the local prosecutor's office. At night she writes while surrounded by her husband, two boys and two loveable mutts. She is constantly thinking of her next project and loves to connect with her readers.

You can find her most often on Facebook or on her website. www.Kathleencollins.net @kathy_collins www.facebook.com/kathleencollinsauthor http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7191208.Kathleen_Collins

Leyla, did you always wanted to be a writer? If not what did you want to be?

I’ve always wanted to be a writer, or, at the very least, do something creative. Though I did shift gears several times to pursue a career that was more practical, like marketing and corporate communication (I even worked for the Commissioner of the NBA for a time). The problem is, I hated doing anything else with such a passion that the pain and misery of being a starving writer was still preferable because I was living (or attempting to live) my dream.

When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?

When I signed with my amazing literary manager, Jennie Church-Cooper at Principato-Young Entertainment. It’s been a long journey, but she’s always believed in me and my writing, and it’s important to have somebody like that in your corner.

Do you do another job except for writing and can you tell us more about it?

Something that I did for many years was “script consulting.” In other words, I evaluated screenplays for numerous production companies. I helped determine what scripts would make their way up the chain.

So I do know what it’s like to be on the other side. I know how rare it is for somebody to say, “yes,” because the majority of that job, or any job like it, consists primarily of saying “no.”

How long does it usually take you to write a book, from the original idea to finishing writing it?

I can’t remember when the idea for Annabeth Neverending first came to me, but it took me seven years to write from start to finish (while raising kids and working on many screenplays and teleplays and moving across the country along the way). But a lot of that time was spent determining how to write a book, what my voice was, what POV to use, etc. I think I’ll be able to knock out my next effort in a year, tops.

What genre would you place your books into?

Well, this is my only book so far, but I’d have to say that it’s genre bending, a blend of paranormal romance and historical fiction. This is the genre I’ll stick with for awhile, as I plan to write at least two more follow-ups to Annabeth Neverending.

What made you decide to write a paranormal romance?

I knew that I wanted to write something about reincarnation, and the time period of ancient Egypt and the genre made sense given the concept.

Do you have a favorite character from your book? And why are they your favorite?

My favorite character is Annabeth Prescott, probably because she’s an extension of myself, so I feel very close to her. Looking back on my writing, I guess the main characters are always variations of me to some degree. So if you don’t like Annabeth, you probably won’t care much for me, either. Although I’m very much hoping that you’ll like us both!

Do you have a certain routine you have for writing? ie You listen to music, sit in a certain chair?

Because I have two children, and one has special needs, my time is especially precious. So I write whenever I can. Any time there’s a spare moment; you’ll find me writing. And because my writing time is so limited, I don’t have the luxury of setting the stage with music or a special chair. No, my writing is down and dirty and desperate.

Do you read all the reviews of your book?

Yes. I don’t believe any writer who says they don’t read their own reviews, just like I don’t believe tautly stretched actresses who claim they haven’t had plastic surgery or thin moms who claim they don’t work out but stay in shape solely from chasing after their children.

Do you choose a title first, or write the book then choose the title?

I always choose a title first—it may change along the way, but I think it’s important to have a title to hang my ideas upon.

How do you come up with characters names and place names in your books?

I usually choose names from my family tree for the characters. For example, my great-grandfather’s middle name was Prescott (his mother’s surname) but the places are generally real to help anchor the fiction in reality.

Which format of book do you prefer, eBook, hardback, or paperback?

I don’t care for reading digitally because I spend so much time staring at a computer as it. But as far as physical copies are concerned, hardcovers are too stiff. That’s why paperbacks hit that sweet spot for me.

What is your favorite book and Why? Have you read it more than once?

The Thorn Birds by Colleen McCullough is the one book that I find myself going back to again and again. As I get older I bring a different perspective with me every time I read it, altering the experience and making it seem fresh and new with each subsequent journey.

Do you think books transfer to movies well? Which is you favorite/worst book to movie transfer?

This is a great question because I’ve adapted a few things (that weren’t produced yet, but whatevs) and I know how hard it can be to try to stuff a novel into the very restrictive structure that is a screenplay.

Some books lend themselves far better to film than others. The most difficult to adapt is a book that has a lot of internal dialogue. The transfers that work best are plot-heavy books that have inherent three-act structures (which is the way all screenplays are written).

A wonderful example of a highly successful adaptation is Rosemary’s Baby. They practically filmed that book page for page, line by line. It’s like it was written to be a movie (and maybe it was). For worst, I’d have to say that the film Simon Birch is a terrible excuse for John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany.

Would Annabeth Neverending make a good movie?

As a screenwriter, I think that Annabeth Neverending is exceedingly cinematic, and is ripe for adaptation! With exotic locales, magic, mysticism and sweeping romance, there’s nothing about this book that doesn’t scream tent pole movie. Are you listening, Hollywood?

Your favorite food is?

PIZZA! Having lived in New York City for many years, I think I have a pretty good grasp of what a good pizza pie should be, but I’ll admit; I love New York AND Chicago style. Call me a traitor if you must, but I don’t discriminate! That said, my favorite all time pizza, believe it or not, is from Rocky Rococo’s, a midwestern chain.

Your favorite singer/group is?

Beatles. Elvis. Beatles. Elvis. I can’t choose! This is too hard!

Your favorite color is?

My favorite color is clear. Just kidding. It’s blue.

Annabeth Neverending Leyla Kader Dahm Genre: YA paranormal romance/historical ISBN-13: 978-1518613289 ISBN-10: 1518613284 Number of pages: 238 Word Count: 75,000

Book Description: At first, teenager Annabeth Prescott thinks she’s found quite a deal when she talks down the price of an ankh pendant she discovers at a flea market. She soon wonders if the bauble is more than she's bargained for when she faints and glimpses images from a past life in ancient Egypt.

The discovery coincides with another new find: Gabriel, a handsome young man who takes an interest in her. When she meets his twin brother C. J. at a Halloween party, she realizes they look exactly like two boys who figure prominently into her memories.

Does C. J. share the heroic qualities held by his past incarnation Sethe, her bodyguard when she was Princess Ana? Does Gabriel possess the same evil powers he wielded as Kha, the black sorcerer who sought her affection?

Love meets the supernatural in this gripping young adult paranormal romance. Readers with an interest in reincarnation, as well as ancient Egypt, will be drawn to its mystical mixture of history and hesitation as Annabeth sways between the two brothers.

Will her reincarnated soulmate win out? Or will Kha finally find the way to her heart?

Character Name: Annabeth Prescott Character Bio: Until recently, I just assumed that I was your average teenage girl. Average being the operative word. I guess I’m reasonably attractive, I do OK in school, and my personality isn’t a complete disaster. The one high profile extracurricular I’m on is the pom pon squad, though I’m not very good. But that doesn’t mean I let it stop me. I love that uniform!

I was adopted, and because my adoption was closed, I don’t know anything about my birth parents—in this lifetime. But luckily, thanks to an ankh pendant I discovered at the flea market where I work, I can now relive memories from my past life in ancient Egypt. Back then, I was a princess! Daughter of the pharaoh Ramses the Great and Queen Nefertari. Which is, you know, pretty amazing.

Now, I’m caught between the past and the present, the good and bad. It’s a scary but exhilarating place to be.

Describe yourself. What is your worst and best quality?

My best quality? I don’t know. I’m pretty humble, I guess. When it comes to my worst quality, I’m quite indecisive. I think. Can I get back to you on that?

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

In some ways, I wish they knew that I’ve been reincarnated, because it explains a lot about me and what’s going on in my everyday life. But it would complicate things as well. So it’s best that I keep it, for the most part, to myself.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

That I tend to have pretty racy fantasies…Forget I said anything.

What are you most afraid of?

I’m most afraid of somehow being forced to engage in a romantic relationship with my mortal enemy, the black sorcerer Kha. What do you want more than anything?

I want to know who my present-day birth mother is, and if possible, build a relationship with her. The details of my true identity won’t be legally available to me until I’m 18 years old.

What is your relationship status?

It really depends on the day and the lifetime. You might want to ask me later.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

Unlike my coworker Gabriel, who has an eccentric sense of personal style that draws in lots of vintage pieces, I like to wear fast fashion. That is, if you call the clothes on the TJ Maxx clearance rack fashion.

How much of a rebel are you?

I’ve become more of a rebel as I’ve learned about how brave I was in my past incarnation. It’s made me take more chances in this life, but by comparison, Princess Ana, my former self, was much more of a rebel than I am now and probably will ever be.

What do you consider to be your greatest achievement?

Getting the job with Mrs. Lansing at the Arundel Flea Market is my greatest achievement. Even though she knew me already and probably felt obligated to hire me…it wasn’t easy for me to find any job, so I’m pretty proud I got one at all!

What is your idea of happiness?

Being with the boy I love.

What is your current state of mind?

It’s constantly in flux—at least my emotions are. I’m having a hard time deciding which path to follow.

What is your most treasured possession?

My ankh pendant. Not only because it allows me to tap into memories of my past life in ancient Egypt, but because it’s highly valuable as well!

What is your most marked characteristic?

My red—I mean auburn hair. And my freckles, too.

What is it that you most dislike?

I dislike the looky-loos who watch videos of my sleepwalking on YouTube. I also dislike when my brother Howie goes through my things. Though he’ll ever fess up. But I know that he does it just the same!

Which living person do you most despise?

That’s a more complicated question than it sounds. Assuming Kha is alive, I hate him above all else.

But if he isn’t, then the person I despise most is that jerky wrestler Billy Jacoby.

What is your greatest regret?

That I had to grow up without knowing my birth family.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

Total honesty. Inherent goodness. And a complete lack of black magical power.

Who is your favorite hero in fiction?

Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. Especially when I imagine him as Gregory Peck from the movie version. Hubba hubba!

Which living person do you most admire?

My friend/neighbor/mentor Mrs. Lansing is the person I most admire. She’s smart, savvy, and kind.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

If I could change anything about myself, it would be my memory. I wish that I could remember everything from my past life in ancient Egypt, and any other lives that might have existed in between.

It’s frustrating to imagine just how much I’m missing.

What is your motto?

When I’m working at the flea market it’s “Caveat Emptor!” (Buyer Beware). But when I’m just existing in general, it’s “Seize the day!” (Carpe Diem)! I like to think that living multiple has taught me something! And it seems like that might be Latin. I wonder if I lived a life in ancient Rome?

Excerpt: Chapter One Mrs. Lansing pulls her SUV into the dusty, unpaved lot, which is located behind two antique malls. I exit and unload her trunk, suppressing a groan as I hoist a heavy cardboard box and set it carefully on the dirt.

I take in the ramshackle affair. I’ve heard that the flea market is a popular meeting place for bargain hunters and collectors, and it looks as strange as its name sounds. There are rows of rickety wooden tables, and it’s surprising that none of them buckle from the sheer number of goods they hold.

“This is the Arundel Flea Market. It’s the hub of Maine’s secondhand economy,” explains my elderly neighbor, who now doubles as my boss and triples as my tour guide.

As we make our way through the helter-skelter maze of booths, the buzz of negotiation can be heard coming from every direction. I drag along the cart of wares, but stop when I’m seized by a sneezing fit, courtesy of free-floating dust and mold. When Mrs. Lansing offers me a handkerchief instead of a Kleenex, I’m made acutely aware of the fact that I’ve entered a new…er, different world.

Mrs. Lansing’s stooped over just low enough that her poor posture has probably cost her a couple of inches, but that doesn’t slow her down. She shuffles toward a vacant table nestled under the welcoming shade of a chalky-white birch tree.

Seeing that she’s claimed a prime spot, I follow her lead by setting out everything from orphan candlesticks to shell cameos to tin wind-up toys. Then, Mrs. Lansing adds a few eccentric items like yellowed tarot cards and an iridescent crystal ball to the collection.

“What’s the deal with this?” I ask while turning over the fortune-telling device.

“It reeks of mystery and the supernatural, which I love. Besides, the weird stuff always sells,” explains Mrs. Lansing, her eyes twinkling.

“So, who usually comes here?”

“Most of the sellers are serious dealers, but there are also everyday folk looking to earn extra cash. Usually by cleaning out their musty attics or basements.”

“I’ve never sold anything before. Not even girl scout cookies,” I admit.

“You’ll get the hang of it. Why don’t we try some role-playing?”

Mrs. Lansing lays down a parchment document with what looks to be a children’s book illustration of an old masted ship. This is something I’ve seen before. Many times. It’s a Mayflower Society certificate.

“My mom’s a member, you know.”

“Now that’s a great angle. The certificate’s going to be passed, in a manner of speaking, from one Pilgrim descendant to another,” states Mrs. Lansing, her voice crackling with wear.

“I’m not a blood descendant. I was adopted, remember?” I gently remind her.

She looks ruffled. Of course, the subject makes everyone feel awkward, especially me.

“Oh, that’s right. I’m so sorry. My mind isn’t the steel trap it once was.”

I shrug it off, not wanting her to feel bad when it’s a common slipup, and we engage in a marathon training session as we try to sell her product that goes on for hours and hours. In addition to the finer points of salesmanship, she fills me in on all the vital information I need to know regarding the current stock and teaches me how to handle the money that comes in.

While learning how to work the old-school cash register, my friend Bernadette, wearing a floppy straw hat and oversized sunglasses, steps up to the stand. She looks over the merchandise, with a mouth that’s either puckered in interest or disgust—I’m not sure which.

“Can I wait on this person I’ve never seen before?”

Mrs. Lansing nods and crosses her arms while standing back to observe my efforts.

“Miss, are you looking for anything in particular?” I ask in my most professional tone.

“Not sure if you noticed…all these things are used but still expensive,” Bernadette states, as though she’d doing me a favor by educating me.

“They’re antiques.”

“In that case, I’ll take none of everything.”

My lips tighten in displeasure.

“You sure about that?” I ask.

Mrs. Lansing chuckles.

“Annabeth Prescott, I’m impressed. Not every new employee cons a friend into acting like a fake customer,” she says with a smile so wide I can see all her dentures.

“You recognized me?” asks Bernadette, sounding genuinely puzzled. She pulls off her hat and glasses, revealing her delicate Asian features.

I sigh, disappointed that my plan failed so wretchedly. I should’ve figured that Bernadette could never fully disguise her…Bernadetteness.

“Shocking, I know. But it does show that you really care about this job, dear,” Mrs. Lansing says, before jotting something in her inventory log.

“Well, I better get back to work. Thanks for coming. Don’t forget to make a purchase before you go,” I say loudly and somewhat pathetically.

“I don’t think so.”

“If you don’t buy something from me, who will?”

“Excellent question,” she agrees.

“Please?” I ask, eyes pleading.

“Begging. Interesting strategy,” Mrs. Lansing says, pretending to mull it over.

“No offense, but I’m heading to the Kittery Outlets. Later!” Bernadette cries as she scurries off.

“Don’t worry. My associate, Gabriel, will help you refine your sales technique. He’s the master.”

I gaze around and notice an elderly army of gray-and-blue hairs surrounds me. I’m the youngest person manning a table by a long shot.

“So he’s…older, huh?” I ask.

“Yes, you could say that. Of course, everyone seems like a baby to me. Now, let me give you some details about this Bakelite phone.”

I scan my surroundings some more and shake my head in hopes of clearing it. My waning attention must be obvious.

“All right, I’ve been doling out a lot of information. Why don’t you take a break? Walk around the market; get an idea of what the others have for sale? We can pick this up when you get back.”

“OK, but when I do, give me your worst piece of merchandise, and I’ll unload it,” I say with false confidence, hoping to salvage things.

“That’s the spirit!”

I peruse the market, and a strange sense of stillness falls. Brass wind chimes break the silence, eerily clinging and clanging as I wind my way through the many stands. I keep passing one table in particular. Though nothing interests me at first, I repeatedly find my way back to it despite myself. It’s as though I’m on autopilot.

I dig in and pick up a broken tassel necklace, which is entangled with several others. While trying to pry them apart, I knock to the ground a box chain holding a pendant. They’re both caked with grime. I bend down and grab the necklace. I look over the charm, which is roughly three inches long and resembles a cross with a loop on top.

My hands tremble. The wind whips through my hair and whistles in my ears. Are the northeastern breezes whispering to buy it?

I give the piece to the table’s merchant, a middle-aged Mainer in a threadbare brown overcoat and scuffed L.L.Bean rain boots. He turns it over in his stubby, chapped fingers.

“How much is this?” I ask nonchalantly, trying to hide just how much I want it.

“Uh, twenty dollars oughta do it,” he says, in a regional accent so thick it sounds like he has a speech impediment.

“Twenty? That’s kind of steep…I really shouldn’t…” I grumble sadly.

“Ten?” *** I gleefully run toward Mrs. Lansing, hardly able to contain my excitement. But I manage to rein it in. Which is hard because I suspect that I’ve achieved a tiny triumph.

“Wait till you see what I bought!”

“I thought the point of this job was to make money, not spend it,” she replies tauntingly.

“I know, I know. But you’ll be happy to know that I totally haggled. And this seems…special.”

I give over the encrusted ornament to Mrs. Lansing, who offers to clean the piece. She takes out a cloth and some jewelry cleanser and polishes the necklace in a flash.

“This shape is an ankh. It’s an ancient Egyptian symbol.”

“Do you know what it means?” I ask, curiosity seeping in.

“I believe it represents some sort of key.”

Now that it’s been spiffed up, Mrs. Lansing and I admire my find, which sparkles in the muted autumn sun.

“Is it real gold?” I wonder aloud.

“I’d say so. In fact, this is the darkest, most beautiful gold I’ve ever seen. Just enough alloy was added to the precious metal to make it durable while maintaining its warmth of color. What did you pay for this?”

“Ten dollars.”

“Looks like somebody’s a born negotiator,” Mrs. Lansing states, with a hint of pride. “You got quite a bargain, kiddo.”

I take the ankh back into my possession and caress its cool, smooth surface. I feel everything around me go topsy-turvy, upside down and inside out… *** I’m enveloped by heat stronger and more intense than any I’ve experienced before. Drops of perspiration tickle my skin as they run underneath my flowing linen gown. I feel arms clasping a chain behind my neck. My hands fly up to find the ankh resting on my collarbone, but I didn’t move them there. It’s as though I’m a mere observer, instead of a participant, when it comes to this body’s actions.

The man who has just bestowed the necklace upon me pulls away, and I’m allowed a good look at him. He’s a hideous fellow with bulging eyes, a hooked nose, and a shock of bright-red hair that peeks out from underneath a blackand-white headdress. His outfit, the way he has about him, makes him seem important. Is he a pharaoh?

He grins, semitoothlessly, and I feel myself smiling in return.

“This is all for you, to commemorate your sixteenth year, your entry into womanhood,” says the probable monarch.

“My gratitude runs as deep as the Nile,” I reply, in a voice that is not my own, in a language that is not my own, and yet I know exactly what I’m saying.

The man, who’s wearing a tunic covered with fringe, motions to a procession of beautiful objects, the likes of which I never could have imagined. Priceless treasures zoom past, carried by servants wearing loose shift dresses and stiff black wigs. Elaborately carved pieces of ivory and ebony furniture, lion and leopard skins, gem-encrusted gold jewelry in the shape of beetles and butterflies, and granite statues of animal-faced men and women are all presented to me individually. Clearly, these are gifts for a very privileged young lady. What I wouldn’t give to own them myself.

Another Egyptian, a young man who is ostensibly a prince, looks to be seething with anger. His arms are crossed, his face set in a scowl. He watches on in disgust as the gifts continue to appear.

“This show of generosity shall stir jealousy in her sisters,” he states venomously.

“I reserve the right to spoil my favorite daughter as I see fit,” replies the suspected ruler.

And now, the last offering, the one with the place of honor at the end of the parade, is finally brought before me.

A boy! Or is he a man?

“This prisoner of war is such a fine specimen, he would be wasted as a lowly house slave. He shall serve as your bodyguard,” announces the intimidating ruler.

“His name is Sethe.”

The captive has shackles on his hands and feet. I can even make out a brand upon his chest. It seems as though it’s still scarring over, which is understandable, since he was not born into slavery. Regardless, he looks like somebody who has done nothing but labor in the sun. His skin is bronzed, and his muscles are impossibly defined. He seems reluctant to look at me.

Finally, his gaze meets mine. I’m at a distance, yet I can still make out the flecks of gold that dapple his hazel eyes. For a blissful moment, I’m lost in them, swimming in their beauty, floating in their comfort. *** I come to amid a background of concerned chatter and find myself surrounded by a crowd of curious onlookers…and a strange boy. His muscular arms are holding me tight, making sure I don’t RSVP to the gravel’s invitation. He’s impossibly good looking, with the palest-possible blue eyes and the darkest-possible black hair.

He couldn’t be less like the slave in my…hallucination?…but he’s just as handsome. Not like it’s a contest.

“You passed out. Good thing I was here to catch you,” says my hero, while wagging a pair of thick brows.

About the Author: Leyla Kader Dahm popped popcorn and dreamt of a career in show business when working in a movie theater while in high school. The small-town Midwestern girl went another route and studied communications at Carroll College and Cornell University, but still found herself drawn to the big screen when a temp agency placed her in a production and development gig at Miramax/Dimension Films.

Dahm went on to work as a script consultant for numerous production companies. She appeared in the acclaimed spoken word show Sit ‘N Spin and had her comedy feature spec, Due North, optioned by Michael Levy Enterprises.

She sold her pitch, Survival Instinct, to Nickelodeon Original Movies. Dahm lives with her husband, sitcom writer Richard Dahm, and her children in Los Angeles. https://leyla-dahm-6b8g.squarespace.com https://twitter.com/annabeth_egypt https://www.facebook.com/annabethneverending/ https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/48461643-leyla-dahm

So, my assignment today is to let you know my top favs fairy tale characters, so here they are in no particular order.

1. The evil stepmother/queen from Snow White I love the villains because you can do so much with them. I’ve actually twisted this character twice, once in the second book in the Sexy Shifter Fairytale Romances, SNOW, and once in my longer fantasy series, The Tales of the Dark Court. What I love about this character is working with the motivatin underneath the character, why is she so hateful and yet able to get away with her evil deeds? How can she possibly live with herself? In fact, I think we can include the evil stepmother from Cinderella in here too. I’ve been working on one of the later books in this series, CINDER, and the stepmother is one of my favorites to write. In that book she’s a former top-model and she’s a backstage momma who wants the steps to also be top-models. What delicious motivation, she thinks she’s doing it all for the kids, but truthfully, it’s all about herself. Love it!

2. Lost heroines: RED, Little Red Riding Hood When you are talking about fairytales you are talking about little girl lost stories. And when I write modern adult fairy tale twists the heroines have to become not just adults, but adults who find love and in doing so, find themselves. In RED, my heroine grows from depending on her family to make all her decisions, to making the tough decisions herself. Loving a boy from the wrong side of the woods is her driving force for change because love conquers all, right? Even being a lonely lost fairy tale heroine.

3. Bad boy heroes or princes in disguise?

The thing missing from children’s fairy tales is the bad boy gone good, because that’s the ultimate adult fairy tale. Most of my twists have a guy who isn’t a prince, but finds his inner Charming deep within. I love flawed men, because in reality, we’re all deeply flawed, so men who start off only thinking of themselves, but end up sacrificing all for true love, that’s my kind of hero. All my princes, whether they have an official title, like in my fantasy series, or if they are just regular guys, like in Sexy Shifter

Fairytale Romances, all have massive changes they have to go through. And I love making them sweat each and every choice—making them pay the hard price, all so they can find true love with their fairy tale princess.

I guess you can see that I have a tough time picking just a few fairy tale characters as favorites. That’s because each and every one has their own story to tell. Each one has their own journey, whether it’s a bad boy who reforms, a heroine who become strong, or a villain who can never see past her own needs.

And twisting each one in a new and different way is what I love to do. What are your favorite characters? Why do you love to see them twisted into new and different plots?

RED: A Sexy Shifter Fairytale Romance Jessica Aspen Genre: Paranormal Romance Publisher: Abracadabra Publishing Date of Publication: January 2015 Number of pages: 73 Word Count: 33,853 Cover Artist: Viola Estrella Description: When Red runs into the hot new forest ranger she thinks it will be just a quick fling but passions ignite and soon Red is scrambling to hide all her secrets.

Fraternizing with humans is taboo but when feisty werewolf, Red, runs into the hunky new forest ranger, Evan Brewster, she jumps on the opportunity to let loose her desires. Evan is stoked when he meets the petite red haired hottie, and combined with his new discovery of wolves in Colorado, thinks his career and life are made. Then Red pushes him away, her hostile brother threatens his life, and things begin to spiral out of control.

Caught between her sexy lover and her pack can Red trust Evan with her secrets? Or must she sacrifice her human lover—and her heart?

Excerpt: RED A Sexy Shifter Fairytale Romance Red entered the deep woods, sniffing in appreciation of the cool damp piney scent. The familiar narrow path was little more than a deer trail through the brush. It would get her to Grandma’s in good time. Grandma was a bit of a lone wolf who refused to have a phone. She lived up on the mountain in an area of the forest you couldn’t get to by road. Her

independence drove Red’s mother crazy but Red admired the sheer rebelliousness. Good old Grandma. She insisted the old ways were best and she would live off the land until she died.

No wonder Mom had sent her to check on Grandma. Red’s lips curved in a smile. Kill two rebel birds with one stone. Her mother was ever-efficient.

She moved deeper into the woods musing about ways to get the old she-wolf on her side of the argument. Each stride loosened joints tight from a week trapped in the kitchen with her mother. The warm morning sun coming though the trees dappled the earth in an ever-changing pattern and increased her pleasure in her body’s movements. Her pace slowed and she became lulled into feeling there wasn’t any danger.

She wished she dared to change into wolf form and really move. Feel the trail under her paws, smell the true scents of the woods, taste the air. But her mother’s warning about the hunters in the park was fresh. Hunters wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a wolf.

All they would have to do was say it had attacked them, their dogs, or their squeaky duck lures and the new park ranger would side with them. No, ever since the new ranger had taken over, all the pack had become more cautious.

Her body moved her up the trail on auto-pilot while her brain continued to re-hash her problem. She was stuck in limbo, like a lamb before the slaughter. Alive, but going nowhere. She was desperate to get out of town. Her mating instincts told her she should search out a mate. But they conflicted with her personal instincts that told her to go find a career and separate from her controlling family.

But instead of taking charge of her own destiny like a human woman, here she was, checking on Grandma like a good girl. She even had a Tupperware box of goodies stuffed in her pack in case Grandma wasn't eating anything but rabbit.

Zoned out on the familiar path, her sensitive nose picked up a smell. An appetizing smell, of cloves and wood smoke and something…something male.

She froze, all her senses on alert.

Her ears and nose almost twitched forward.

There, in the shadows on the side of the trail, was a man. A man in a ranger uniform standing next to a large frame backpack. How could she not have noticed him before? How long had he been watching her?

She forced her body to look relaxed and stifled the urge flooding her system and threatening to overwhelm herthe urge to change into her wolf and deal with the danger.

She smiled, and hoped it wasn’t too toothy. Her instincts said she was a wolf, but all he would perceive was a young woman—not a threat.

This had to be the new ranger Seth had talked about non-stop for the last week. How this new guy had taken Uncle Bob’s spot when Uncle Bob died last month in a car accident. How no one was ready from the pack to step into Bob’s position and handle the pack’s personal area of the forest. How the ranger had better watch his step—or there would be trouble.

Seth had bitched and moaned, but what he hadn’t said was how totally hot this guy was. Or how delicious he smelled. She put him at just under six foot, but that was tall compared to her petite five-foot two. Long and lean, he had the look of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors, hiking or maybe skiing. He stepped forward and swept back his shaggy brown hair, revealing warm brown eyes that held the look. The look men gave women—open, appreciative, and a touch guarded.

She returned it with a bold appraising one of her own. He was just what she needed to distract her from her family issues. He was hot, male—and a stranger.

“Hi, I’m Evan Brewster.” He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. She hesitated. A slow smile crept across his lips.

She swallowed. Wolves didn’t shake hands and she didn’t usually meet anyone she hadn’t known since birth. She stepped forward, held out her hand like she thought a normal girl would. And ignored her stomach’s quivering.

“You must be Uncle Bob’s replacement. Nice to meet you.” Here was her chance to practice with a regular human. To prove to her parents and the pack elders she could function in the wide world. That her days of indiscriminate changes were over, and that she was a competent adult. He took her hand. His calloused grip was warm and strong.

Electricity shot up her arm and into her chest. Her heart rate sped up just like the seconds before a kill. Sudden warm wet heat pooled between her legs. She yanked her hand back, stopping short of rubbing her tingling palm on her thigh.

Oh man! She didn’t even know this guy. He wasn’t pack, wasn’t even a shifter, despite his touch that had her shaking. Shaking like a spindly branched cottonwood in the fall breeze. She took another deep sniff, reassured herself that he was all human. And knew he was not only human, but he was all male.

She wasn’t in heat. Why would she respond to him like this? Like she wanted to strip him down and do him right here on the path. Maybe it was the uniform. This guy filled out the standard park ranger uniform nicely. Much nicer than Uncle Bob. This was what her family had been afraid would happen if she went to college and was around too many human males. That she would pick a human, instead of one of the not-so-distantly related wolves they kept parading in front of her. Mate with one of them, instead of her own kind.

Inter-species relationships between humans and wolf-shifters were common in the old days when populations were spread out and the choice of mates was slim. Now they were rare. Extremely rare. No one mated permanently with humans. It was wrong, just wrong. Maybe her family was right. If she was this desperate she should just pick one of the available local wolves and settle down.

But she’d never felt like this about any of the pack males. Not even the human guy she’d been with as a teenager had caused this immediate tingling urge for sex. She swallowed, feeling suddenly shy and cautious, and smiled.

Evan.

She rolled his name through her mind, resisted the desire to taste the flavor of it on her tongue. Maybe if she wasn’t touching him she could do this—carry on a normal conversation. She struggled for something to say, something that would cover this incredible desire to fuck a complete stranger.

“Welcome to Radon,” she managed to get out. “How do you like it so far?” Inane. Moronic. But it was out now.

She hoped he couldn’t see the shaking that had started at his touch, or smell the moisture between her legs. Luckily, he was only human.

Calm down, Red! You can do this. You have to do this.

“It’s been interesting. It’s a pretty tight-knit little town.” His gaze had warmed, becoming friendly. And interested.

She knew what that appraising look meant. She’d received it from all the available males her parents had invited to their house in an effort to entice her to settle down. But none of the bachelor wolves had made her feel like this. Like her whole body was tuned in to his. Like she should get on all fours, push her ass in the air, spread her legs, and beg.

Her palms were damp. She caught him checking her out and was glad her hoodie was zipped up over her chest.

Her nipples tightened so fast, so hard, they almost hurt.

"Town's been a little tough on you, huh?" she asked. Poor guy, he couldn't have known what coming to this area would be like. They hadn’t had a ranger who wasn’t pack in her lifetime. The county was up in arms.

“You could say that.” He shot her a conspiratorial smile that warmed his eyes to molten chocolate. She had a sudden vivid picture of a sheepskin rug and him lying naked in front of a fire, her lips and tongue tracing the contoured lines of muscles illuminated by the flames.

She dragged her mind back, forcing it to focus on the present. Focus on the words coming out from between his sexy lips.

“You’re the friendliest person I’ve run into in this town. Where have you been hiding?”

Wrong question ranger. The question was who had been hiding him from her? Now her mother keeping her home from work to make jam made sense. Her mother would never think she was an adult. Although maybe her mom was right—given her lusty thoughts maybe she should be sequestered.

“I normally work in town—at the general store. I must have just missed you.” Yeah right. Did that sound as lame to him as it had to her? She lifted her chin. Her mother’s plan had backfired. Despite being sent off to the boonies she’d met the new guy in town. And boy was he hot.

“Is that Burdock’s? It’s the only general store I’ve seen.” One long hand reached up, pushing his thatch of hair back off his face in an unconscious slow sensual movement. The hair fell forward back into place as soon as he released it, thick and dark and oh so touchable.

“Yeah. I guess you’ve been in there.”

“Yeah. Is the black haired dude with the bad-ass attitude related?” His eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled. Another urge to spread her thighs slid through her. In an effort to control it, she clenched them tight.

What had he asked?

“Seth,” she said, relieved she knew what to say. “He’s one of my brothers. He’s none too happy you’re here.”

“Why is that?”

“Let’s just say we’re a typical small town. Outsiders aren’t really welcome.”

“You know, you’re the first woman I’ve met under thirty all week. I was beginning to wonder where they all were.”

Dangerous territory. She’d better be careful what she said. Obviously the alphas had the few available females under lock and key.

“We have a surplus of men in this town. You probably just missed the women.” He made her so nervous, she just knew she would slip and let something out. Something that would alert him that all was not as it seemed in small town Radon, Colorado. “It’s been nice but I have to get going.”

She smiled and started to move down the path, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her.

The back of her neck prickled.

She supposed he was eager to talk to the only friendly face in town but she wished he would back off. She was having enough trouble controlling herself as it was. Her heightened senses told her to take action. Now. He’d moved too close. His spicy male scent filled her nostrils, caressing her skin. She wanted to bury her face in the crook of his neck and inhale, suck him in like oxygen before going underwater.

“Where are you off to?”

“My grandmother lives up the mountain. I’m just going to check on her, stay a while.”

His face lost its easy smile and grew concerned. “You’re hiking up the mountain by yourself? A woman like you shouldn’t be out here alone.” She bristled at his statement. Just like her brother! What was it with men and their bossy attitudes?

“A woman like me? Slow down buster! I’ve been hiking this mountain since I could walk. You’re out here alone, why not me?”

“But I’m a trained outdoorsman. What if the weather changes? You hardly look prepared in those shorts. What do you have in that pack?” He moved closer to her. She backed up, suppressing the desire to bare her teeth. With relief she channeled her newfound sexuality into anger instead. This she understood. Human or not, he was beginning to get her back up, just like any other male.

“I’ll be at Grandma’s before dark. And it’s an incredible day. No storm in sight. See ya.” She edged around him back onto the path, determined to put both him and temptation behind her.

“Wait, I’ll go with you. There are signs of hunters in the area. You shouldn’t be hiking alone.” He shouldered his oversize pack with ease. Then scrambled, trying to buckle the waist straps and keep up with her at the same time. She stepped up the pace.

She could feel him close behind, knew he was eye level with her ass. Knew he watched her backside swish with each step. Her tingling nerves began to send messages again. With him nipping at her ankles, she felt like prey.

“No, thanks. You won’t be able to keep up.” She moved faster, pumping her legs in a rapid rhythm on the familiar trail. His legs might be longer than hers, but she had wolf stamina and a light pack. No way he could keep up with her for long.

“Hey, I’ve been through hell in the military. If I could keep up in basic, then I can keep up with you, little girl.”

She laughed. Flashing a catch-ya-later look over her shoulder she put on a hair more speed. He’d find out soon enough that she might be little but she had more oomph in this little package than most. And he could just watch her swish her tail until she was out of sight.

About the Author: Jessica Aspen always wanted to be spirited away to a world inhabited by elves, were-wolves and sexy men who walk on the dark side of the knife. Luckily, she’s able to explore her fantasy side and delve into new worlds by writing spicy paranormal romance. She loves indulging in dark chocolate, reading eclectic novels, and dreaming of ocean vacations, but instead spends most of her time, writing, walking the dog, and hiking in the Colorado Rockies.

To sign up for Jessica Aspen’s new release email and to get your FREE bonus book, please go to: http://eepurl.com/zs4Sj Website: http://jessicaaspen.com

5 Things You May Not Know About TF Walsh  I did gymnastics for eight years. For eight years I did gymnastics when I was young and most of those years were while we lived in Romania. During our last year in the country, just before we moved to Australia where my dad was, I had won a championship. Because of the complication with the way my father had ‘left’ Romania (communist during this time), the officials refused to award me any medals or acknowledgment of a win.  Even though I’ve lived in Australia most of my life, I still have a slight accent. Most people’s first guess is that I’m from South Africa.  I did a double university degree in marketing and accounting, yet I’ve never done any bookkeeping or accounting work in my life.  I’m a self-trained food photographer.  When I’m not working or writing, I’m a huge lover of baking, so you’ll find me in the kitchen, probably whipping up a batch of snickerdoodle cookies.

Cloaked The Wulfkin Legacy Series Prequel T.F. Walsh Genre: Paranormal Romance Publisher: Crimson Romance Date of Publication: Jan 4, 2016 ISBN: 1440596646 Word Count: 26,000 Cover Artist: Erin Alexander Book Description: Raised by an overly protective wulfkin pack, Daciana leaps at the chance to venture into the human world for her one-year independence ritual. But after someone steals the endangered bear cubs she’s been assigned to protect, she must locate them or lose her job and return home in disgrace. The sexy inspector on the case isn’t making this any easier. He knows nothing of her kind, and wulfkin rules forbid relationships with humans.

Newly divorced Inspector Connell Lonescu trusts no one but himself. He’s convinced relationships are a waste of time and thinks burying himself in work will ease the pain. Yet he’s attracted to the gorgeous and mysterious Daciana, even if there’s something slightly odd about her. Can Connell learn to trust the sexy but secretive woman?

Excerpt: CHAPTER ONE DACIANA Damn bear. Leaving footprints on the outskirts of the forest, winding around the apartment blocks, and scaring locals for the past week. No wonder the cops had threatened to shoot him on sight today.

Sunrise wasn’t far away; neither was my transformation from wolf into human, so I had to hurry. Romania’s morning breeze wove through my fur, and the distinct dried-clover-and-grass scent screamed bear. He was definitely here—always just before dawn.

Not that I should care. Wolves and bears weren’t the best of friends. But I’d seen the way humans made killing us a sport, and I couldn’t stand to see any animal hurt.

Careening around the corner of the building, I halted and silenced my breaths.

Fifteen feet away was a frizzy, brown bottom sticking in the air. The bear that belonged to that butt balanced on the edge of an oversized trash can, head down inside, his scratching and grunting muffled.

A few steps closer, I snarled, the sound vibrating through my chest.

The bear jerked upward, a butter container sitting over his nose. He clacked his teeth and forced an expulsion of air, throwing the container off his face.

I backed up. Yep, this might be a funny moment on television, but not when you were the one facing the six-foot animal standing on hind legs.

He flopped back onto all fours and momentarily gazed back at his trash.

I have no plans to take your garbage. A growl slipped past my throat, and I lowered myself, feigning attack posture. Come on, boy, get out of here before it’s too late. I stalked forward.

He swiped at me with a front paw, huffing.

I jumped back and circled him.

But he lunged suddenly, slapping the concrete ground several feet from me, and stood there, his mouth hanging open. He roared and made a pulsing sound deep in his throat.

Oh, he felt threatened now. Good.

I ran around him in a circle, faster. His claws swatted at me, inches away, but once I was at his back, I leapt closer and nipped his hindquarters.

His bawling echoed, but I hadn’t drawn blood, and it sure as hell was better than a bullet.

The crunch of leaves sounded, followed by footfalls, from around the building behind me.

I flinched and sniffed the air. Humans.

The bear turned and ran away from the trash, from me, from the city, heading toward the forest. I chased after him to make sure he got as far away from here as possible.

He bolted faster, his paws hitting the ground with each pounce.

“The bear. And a fucking wolf?” a disembodied voice boomed from my left.

In the empty grassland between the apartment block and the woods, two police officers with rifles watched us.

They were there to hunt the bear and broke into a run in our direction.

Fuck, this was bad. Really bad. I burst into the dense Transylvanian forest behind the bear, trampling foliage and dried twigs. He’d swung right and already put distance between us. He was safe, but what about me?

Heading straight ahead, I sprinted across forest floor, dodging low branches. I glanced behind me. Footfalls resonated, and the two figures raced my way.

Heavy breaths strangled my lungs as I bolted. The ground flew beneath me and fresh pine-scented air splashed over my face, promising escape. Except my heart was attempting to break free from my chest.

A shot was fired, and I scampered faster. Ten pulse-wrenching minutes later, the police were nowhere in sight or smell range. That didn’t mean they couldn’t still be trailing after me.

The first ripples of a transformation into my human form crawled through my back legs. I scrambled up the hill, claws digging into the soil for leverage with each rapid lunge.

Not yet.

My body shuddered, and I stumbled forward, shivering uncontrollably as thousands of tiny bite-like nips swarmed across my flesh. I whimpered, and a long exhale gushed past my lips. The change was happening.

About the Author: TF Walsh emigrated from Romania to Australia at the age of eight and now lives in a regional city south of Sydney with her husband. Growing up hearing dark fairytales, she's always had a passion for reading and writing horror, paranormal romance, urban fantasy and young adult stories.

She balances all the dark with light fluffy stuff like baking and traveling. www.tfwalsh.com www.facebook.com/tfwalsh www.goodreads.com/author/show/7150942.T_F_Walsh www.amazon.com/T.F.-Walsh/e/B00DW1C56Q Subscription to newsletter: www.tfwalsh.com/subscribe-to-my-newsletter/

Monsters Need Love Too One of the best known books in the world is a supernatural story called THE BIBLE. Religion has been a source of inspiration for folks to do all sorts of things since the dawn of time. The Bible itself is filled with supernatural acts and characters: angels, demons, upper and lower case gods, reanimation, magic and, of course, the universal struggle of good vs evil.

So it only seemed fitting that any book I wrote dealing with reapers, the merchants of life and death, would also be intertwined with those elements.

There’s a line in Reap & Repent, book one of The Reaper Series, which addresses this very idea: “Most people said that they didn’t believe in the supernatural, but if they believed in God, they should at least believe in the possibility of everything else. If God, then why not other supernatural entities: Satan?

Angels? Demons? Vampires? Werewolves? Reapers? It was a slippery slope for sure. Open one door and no telling what might come through it.”

The oldest stories are the richest, and I’ve pulled from the source of my own religion to reimagine that ageold struggle and what has been and is going on behind the scenes. The one overarching theme of the Reaper Series books is this; Love.

Even the darkest, most damaged villain had a mother and a father. Love or its absence is what molds our destinies.

Monsters need love too.

The Reaper Series Box Set 3 Full Length Novels for $6.99

Reap and Repent The Reaper Series Book 1 Lisa Medley Genre: Urban Fantasy Publisher: Big Cedar Date of Publication: March 3, 2015 ISBN: 978-0-9908856-2-7 ASIN: B00TJFIOFK Number of pages: 328 Word Count: 84k Cover Artist: Sweet and Spicy Designs Book Description: They see death. Can they share a life?

Ruth Scott can read the energy of every person she meets. Then she meets Deacon Walker. She can see his iceblue eyes, his black hair, and his gorgeous face. But this beautiful stranger has no aura.

Deacon is just as unsettled by Ruth—and, having spent more than two hundred years ushering souls to Purgatory, Deacon is seldom shocked by anything. As he helps Ruth to understand her true nature, she awakens desires that he decided long ago a Reaper can’t afford.

A demon invasion forces Deacon to confront the darkness in his own past even as he fights to save the human souls he’s charged to protect. When he’s taken captive, his first concern is for Ruth. But Ruth just might be able to save herself—and the Reaper she can’t live without—if she can learn to wield her newfound powers.

Amazon and Kindle Unlimited Reap and Redeem The Reaper Series Book 2 Lisa Medley Genre: Urban Fantasy Publisher: Big Cedar Date of Publication: March 10, 2015 ISBN: 978-0-9908856-4-1 ASIN: B00UKBZO7S

Number of pages: 326 Word Count: 80k Cover Artist: Sweet and Spicy Designs Book Description: He’s a reaper who has given up on saving souls. Will a dying woman be his salvation?

After a century of enslavement to pure evil, Kylen Larson is finally free. But he’s long past caring. The only woman he ever loved is dead, and he’s tormented by memories of the horrors his demon parasite forced him to commit. Now, he lives for nothing more than hunting down the infernal creatures invading Meridian, Arkansas, and destroying them.

Olivia Evans is in the final stages of cancer when Kylen accidentally saves her from demonic possession. When he rescues this innocent soul, Kylen rediscovers his mission—and his heart. All he wants is to help Olivia stay alive. He’ll just have to fight off an invasion from Hell first…

Amazon and Kindle Unlimited

Reap and Reveal The Reaper Series Book 3 Lisa Medley Genre: Urban Fantasy Publisher: Big Cedar Date of Publication: April 5, 2015 ISBN: 978-0-9908856-6-5 ASIN: B00VB4VFJY Number of pages: 302 Word Count: 78k Cover Artist: Sweet and Spicy Designs Book Description: By day he saves lives in the city he loves. Can he save souls too?

Nate is an EMT, a witch and a newly inducted member of the Reaper Authority Force. What he's not is a reaper. With unexplained abilities, his true nature lies somewhere in between the angels, demons and reapers he finds himself involved with. When he's paired with the reaper Maeve, he struggles to find his place in the rising war to save the souls of Meridian and the world.

Maeve has tried to hide her reaper handicap--her toxic reaper energy--from her colleagues. But when she's possessed by a fallen angel and forced to poach souls for Hell, her greatest weakness might be the only thing that saves her.

Nate uses his growing powers and his innate magic to find Maeve. He'll do whatever it takes to save her, revealing more than he ever imagined in the process.

Amazon and Kindle Unlimited About the Author: Lisa has always enjoyed reading about monsters in love and now she writes about them, because monsters need love too.

She adores beasties of all sorts, fictional as well as real, and has a farm full of them in her Southwest Missouri home, including: one child, one husband, two dogs, two cats, a dozen hens, thousands of Italian bees, and a guinea pig.

She may or may not keep a complete zombie apocalypse bug-out bag in her trunk at all times, including a machete. Just. In. Case. http://lisa-medley.com https://www.facebook.com/lisamedleyauthor https://twitter.com/lisamedley https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7824406.Lisa_Medley https://plus.google.com/u/1/+LisaMedley/posts

Did you always wanted to be a writer? If not what did you want to be?

I’ve always been a storyteller, but it first manifested in wanting to be an actor (although I did write some lame short stories as a child). I did the acting thing for a while, but when I realized I wasn’t going to be the next Olivier, I transitioned to behind the scenes work, which led me into the film business. As long as I have ways to tell or help tell a story, I’m happy.

When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?

I considered myself a writer as early as 16, when I was writing articles for the school newspaper while also trying my hand at short stories, none of which were very good. So it’s taken me really, 34 years to go from writer to published author. Of course, there were periods within those years when the writing took a major backseat, so it hasn’t been an uninterrupted 34 years.

How long did it take to get your first book published?

As I said above, it took 34 years, but in all honesty I’ve been seriously pursuing getting a novel published for only 5 years or so. Before that it was occasional, half-hearted attempts at trying to get an agent, or a query letter to a publisher or two. Obviously I wasn’t ready to really do it until recently.

Do you do another job except for writing and can you tell us more about it?

Since writing doesn’t yet pay the bills, I also work doing props or set dressing for films and TV. I’ve worked on Banshee, Homeland, Outcast, and several movies, including Days of Thunder and, more recently, Max. What I really want to be when I grow up is a producer, and I have produced two low budget feature films (Cold Storage and Night Feeders. Check them out!) and two documentaries. I’ve adapted a couple of other writers’ books into screenplays and they are being shopped around to various production companies and networks.

What is the name of your latest book, and if you had to summarize it in less than 20 words what would you say?

The book is titled A Whisper of Death. A young Necromancer must use his evil power to save a world that despises him from an even greater evil. (20 words exactly, so I hope it passes muster.)

Who is your publisher? Or do you self-publish?

I am published by Fiery Seas Publishing, which is run by the incredible Misty Williams.

How long does it usually take you to write a book, from the original idea to finishing writing it?

If I’m able to stick with writing on a daily basis, I can usually have a first draft done in 3-4 months. In reality it doesn’t always go that quickly because I have work interfere. And I’m a notoriously slow, easily distracted writer. (Look, cat videos on Facebook.) I’ve recently begun attempting to plot my books as opposed to going seat of the pants, and that can take 2 weeks to a month.

What can we expect from you in the future? ie More books of the same genre? Books of a different genre?

I will stick with fantasy for the foreseeable future, although I do have a space opera in consideration.

Although let’s face it, space opera is just fantasy with aliens. I would like to dabble in horror someday, but I suspect fantasy will always be my true love.

What genre would you place your books into?

My books at present are firmly in the fantasy genre.

What made you decide to write that genre of book?

I just love the process of creating my own worlds and making puppets dance in them for my amusement.

It speaks well to the control freak side of my nature. Sometimes I’ll come up with ideas for worlds with no idea of what sort of story (if any) I’ll ever put in them. These ideas range from a couple of concept paragraphs to 50+ pages of detailed notes about various aspects of the world. There’s enough to deal with the real world reading the news. I want to escape to fake worlds for entertainment.

Do you have a favorite character from your books? And why are they your favorite?

That’s almost like asking a parent who their favorite child is, but if held to a fire and made to confess, I would have to admit that the thief Marcus is my favorite. I even named my Fallout 4 character after him.

His sarcastic sense of humor is pretty much me, but he’s far snarkier and willing to flip the middle finger at authority than I would ever be.

How long have you been writing?, and who or what inspired you to write?

I have written, off and on, since I was 8 years old. My first short story was called Ziggy and the Spiders from Mars, which was obviously taken from the David Bowie song that was popular at the time (yes, I’m old) but was about the comic character Ziggy and his hapless attempts to deal with Martian spiders that landed in his yard. I really didn’t have an inspiration as such, but my parents always encouraged me in any creative endeavors I had. I was mainly inspired by my own creative desire to tell stories in any way possible, either through acting or writing. I tried the music thing too, but the less said about that, the better.

Do you have a certain routine you have for writing? ie You listen to music, sit in a certain chair?

I wouldn’t call it a routine so much as just what the circumstances dictate. I’ve been known to write at Starbucks or IHOP or really anywhere I and a laptop or iPad can go. But predominantly I write in the upstairs office of my house, usually with at least one cat “helping” me. The only music I listen to is movie soundtrack music, because if I listen to anything with words I usually end up trying to sing along, which distracts me from the writing. I have to concentrate on not doing other things, like checking Facebook or email. I shoot for a thousand words a day, and if I manage to get more, I’m a happy camper.

Do you read all the reviews of your book/books?

This is my first book that will get a serious release, so I suspect I will read reviews for a while, and dance in delight or gnash my teeth, depending on whichever is appropriate to the review. Eventually I’ll stop checking. But I’ll always be interested in what people do or don’t like in my books, because it can all help you to become a better writer.

Do you choose a title first, or write the book then choose the title?

I am the absolute worst with titles, so it always comes after I’ve written the piece, and it can still take me a while to come up with something. That being said, I have actually coming up with the series title for books I want to write about three magic factions going to war.

How do you come up with characters names and place names in your books?

I try to make the character names and place names match the culture involved in the story. For instance, the culture my heroes for Whisper of Death come from is known for its practical people, so the names tend to be very straightforward and simple, and place names tend to reflect either their surroundings or location. The town of Firstlast is named because it’s the first or last village before reaching the capital city, depending on which way you are traveling. Likewise, the capital, Kalador is named such because in the culture’s language, kal means city and ador is south, so it’s the “city in the south”, the southernmost city on the continent.

Other cultures that we will meet in subsequent books will have more unusual structures for names.

Are character names and place names decided after their creation? Or do you pick a character/place name and then invent them?

Character names I try to assign before I come up with the character, because they help me get a visual image of the character. Place names I’m a bit looser with. I’ll create what I want the place to be, and hopefully the name will come to me. If I’m stuck, I have a great role-playing game reference book called The Great Book of Names that I can pull out for inspiration. But things can change until the final draft.

For the longest time, the name of one of the world’s major gods was Carabbas, until someone pointed out that it sounded too much like the Italian restaurant chain. So I changed the god’s name.

Do you decide on character traits (ie shy, quiet, tomboy girl) before writing the whole book or as you go along?

It’s a combination. I decide on the sort of gross personality traits (sarcastic, noble, etc.) and let the characters sort of tell the smaller traits as we go along. I also try to have in mind their major internal conflicts, much of which comes from the backstory each one gets.

Are there any hidden messages or morals contained in your books? (Morals as in like Aesops Fables type of "The moral of this story is..")

I don’t really write with any sort of message in mind, even though we’re told you should have some sort of theme. I just write in the hopes people will find the stories entertaining. I mean, there’s always the message of fighting against evil, doing the right thing, but that’s really endemic to any hero story. I guess

if there’s any message to Whisper, it would be that you aren’t constrained by what people say about you or expect you to be.

Which format of book do you prefer, eBook, hardback, or paperback?

E-books are darn convenient, and I will use my iPad or Kindle to read when I’m waiting for the car, at the doctor’s or sitting at a stoplight (Yes, I read at stoplights). But I do still like the feel of a hardback in hand when I’m on the couch reading.

What is your favorite book and Why? Have you read it more than once?

Favorite book is almost like trying to pick favorite character. There are so many that speak to different areas of my personality. But again, if I was forced to pick, it would be Stranger in A Strange Land.

Looked through today’s moral lens, it’s horribly sexist, but its story of being yourself and trying to share yourself in the hopes of making a better world still resonates with me. I’ve read it at least five times. But Lord of the Rings I’ve read at least 20, because the world is so fascinating and you discover something new every time you read it. So I guess those are my two favorite (See, you’re not going to control me with your “rules.”)

Do you think books transfer to movies well? Which is you favorite/worst book to movie transfer?

I think it depends on who is doing the transferring and how much they respect the source material.

Frank Darabont did a wonderful job of bringing The Green Mile and Shawshank Redemption to life from Stephen King’s novel and novella. Shawshank is probably my favorite. But there are so many bad ones that it’s hard to narrow down the worst. The Shining is a wonderful movie, but not a great telling of the book. Oh, I know. David Lynch’s Dune probably qualifies for me. But then again, I fear Dune may be one of those books that defies the moviemaking process. Much of it is too internalized to transfer well to film.

Your favorite food is?

Thai Food. Pretty much any of it, as long as it’s chicken and not beef.

Your favorite singer/group is?

Old School: Pink Floyd, followed closely by Rush. Newer Artists: Hollywood Undead and Pink.

Your favorite color is?

Red. Your favorite Author is?

Robin Hobb.

A Whisper of Death The Necromancer Series Book 1 Paul Barrett Genre: YA Dark Fantasy Publisher: Fiery Seas Publishing, LLC Date of Publication: December 22, 2015

Cover Artist: Jess Small Book Description: Born with the power of ultimate evil, he is the world’s only chance at survival.

Erick Darvaul is a Necromancer, a descendant of the original sorcerers who turned against their dark masters and exiled them.

Now these beings have returned, it falls upon Erick and a cadre of newfound allies to rally against these powerful entities and defeat them again.

Through fire, ambush, and betrayal, Erick and his companions claw their way to Broken Mountain to reunite with others who share his ability. There, Erick battles the mortal foe of his ancestors pushing the limits of his Necromantic magic, a force that seeks to corrupt him every time he summons it.

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/-Bl3pr4javI Teaser Video: https://youtu.be/fxcuoyDwGDk

Character Name: Corberin of Draymed, aka Corby Character Bio: Corby is a 15-year-old scribe, the son of a world famous scholar and scribe. He has recently taken up with Erick, a Necromancer who has been tasked with traveling to Broken Mountain to meet up with other Necromancers so that they can learn how to fight the Inconnu, the evil creatures that attempted to destroy the world a millennium ago. Corby is accompanying Erick and writing about their journeys. With them is Erick’s familiar, Blink, and Corby’s cousin Elissia.

Describe yourself what is your worst and vest quality?

I don’t actually wear a vest, so I assume you mean worst and best quality. My best quality is my eidetic memory. If I read it or see it, I can recall it. I still like to write things down, but those are mainly my initial impressions of things or people as I first encounter them. My worst quality is that I can be closed off. I tend to keep my emotions in check, because I’ve learned that if you care for someone too much, bad things can happen.

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

That I love to tell stories and relate history. Some people know it, but I have trouble in crowds of more than four or five people. I get quiet and would rather be somewhere else. I’d like to be a bard someday, but that’s hard to do if you can’t talk to crowds.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

I can’t tell you that or it wouldn’t be a secret. I recently told my friend Erick and he still likes me, so maybe someday I can let others know, but for now, it’s just not something I’m comfortable talking about.

What are you most afraid of?

That others won’t like me, and that someday I’ll lose control of my emotions and do something I regret.

What do you want more than anything?

For Erick to achieve his goal of defeating the Inconnu, so that we can all live happily and I can say that I witnessed and reported on an act of legend.

What is your relationship status?

I am single and not really looking for anyone. As I said before, it’s dangerous to care too much about people.

How much of a rebel are you?

I follow the rules as I was taught to do. Leaving home to travel with Erick without informing my parents is the worst thing I’ve ever done. Well, almost the worst.

What do you considered to be your greatest achievement?

I have yet to accomplish it, but if Erick achieves his goal, then my chronicling of it will most likely be the greatest thing I ever do.

What is your idea of happiness?

To be able to live my life unburdened by guilt, and to get over my fear of lots of people.

What is your current state of mind?

Confused and uncertain. I hope traveling with Erick and Elissia will help me sort things out.

What is your most treasured possession?

My pens and inks. Being able to witness things and write about them is what makes life bearable.

What is your most marked characteristic?

I tend to rest my pen against my lips when I’m thinking, so my lips are constantly marked with ink stains. I also have a scholar’s haircut, which is short all on the sides and a thick fringe on top.

What is it that you, most dislike?

There is little I dislike, as everything is a chance to discover something you didn’t know. I dislike people who have no sense of curiosity or wonder at the world.

Which living person do you, most despise?

Fathen, the priest of Caros for our town. He constantly speaks ill of Erick and blathers about how evil Necromancers are, when I know Erick is anything but evil.

What is your greatest regret?

That answer is tied in to the thing I don’t want to talk about. Sorry.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

Curiosity and a desire to learn.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

The same as above. I try not to make distinctions between people.

Which living person do you most admire?

My cousin Elissia, who has a strength and will to do what she feels is right that I will probably never have.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

My shyness. I’m so glad these question are in writing. I don’t know that ever be this honest talking directly to a stranger.

What is your motto?

Knowledge and the strength to use it will always triumph.

About the Author: Paul has lived a varied life full of excitement and adventure. Not really, but it sounds good as an opening line.

Paul’s multiple careers have included: rock and roll roadie, children’s theater stage manager, television camera operator, mortgage banker, and support specialist for Microsoft Excel.

This eclectic mix prepared him to go into his true love: motion picture production. He has produced two motion pictures and two documentaries: His film Night Feeders released on DVD in 2007, and Cold Storage was released by Lionsgate in 2010 Amidst all this, Paul has worked on his writing, starting with his first short story, about Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, at age 8. Paul has written and produced numerous commercial and industrial video scripts in his tenure with his forcreative agency, Indievision. He has two published short stories (As You Sow and Double Cross) and one self-published novel (Godchild). He lives with his filmmaker/graphic artist partner and their three cats. http://www.paulbarrettonline.com

The Deepest Well Age of Gray Book 1 Juliette Cross Genre: historical paranormal romance Publisher: Samhain Publishing Date of Publication: Feb. 2, 2016 ASIN: B016XTOQIS Word Count: 85K Cover Artist: Kanaxa

Tagline: Love can stand the test of time. Can it rise above the taint of Hell?

Book Description: Lady Katherine Blakely is married to a monster. On the same night she witnesses how low her husband can sink, she meets a charming stranger, a gentleman from top to toe. Yet even her gallant rescuer is possessed of a dark side.

Lord George Draconis Thornton, commander of the Dominus Daemonum, is on a mission to expel the demon prince Damas back to the underworld. But a golden-haired beauty derails his plans and stirs an attraction he’s never felt before, not even for his centuries-dead wife.

Discovering Lord Blakely is in league with Damas, George sweeps Katherine away from the chaos and devilry threatening her life. With every touch, their love grows by joyful leaps and bounds.

Sensing his enemy’s vulnerability, Damas kidnaps Katherine to his hellish lair, where he wages a sensual assault on her defenses. As George tears at heaven and earth to find her, he is painfully aware of only one way to save her soul. The cost will break her heart…and destroy his own.

Warning: Contains wolves in gentlemen’s clothing, a precipitous descent into Hell, and a frightening glimpse of a post-apocalyptic world where angels and demons wage war for dominion on earth.

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Excerpt: “How do you know about the world of demons, George? How did you move as they did? I thought I had fainted by the pond and awakened beside the barn, but I didn’t, did I?”

Had she imagined being transported from the horses to the barn in a long blink?

“No, you didn’t faint. It’s called sifting. A power of the angels, to move from place to place at will.”

“But they weren’t angels.”

“They were once.”

Fallen angels. Could this be possible? What did that make the man standing before her? He inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Perhaps I should define the two realms for you.”

“That would be lovely.”

His mouth quirked at her sarcasm, though he chose not to comment. “There is the Flamma of Light and the Flamma of Dark.”

“Flamma?”

“Fire, in Latin, which is the common tongue between the heavenly and demonic hosts.”

She pulled her hand from his and stood, staring into the flames. “Why fire?”

He joined her and removed his wet coat. “I asked the same question once.” He winced as he peeled the coat off his right arm. A pool of red had soaked through his undershirt.

“Oh God, your arm, George. You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

Just as he had unbuttoned her jacket, she swiftly unfastened his waistcoat, then his shirt and peeled them off him. Steering her gaze away from his finely sculpted chest and broad shoulders, she examined the cut more closely.

She bent over and, with a quick rip, tore a long strip from her shift.

“You needn’t do that, Katherine.”

“Be still and let me mend you as best I can.”

He held his arm straight so that she could wrap the fabric around his arm.

“Why fire?” she asked again, busying herself with the makeshift bandage.

“Flamma are all touched by fire, an otherworldly power given to each of us.”

She remembered the way he moved, the way the demons moved, with supernatural speed and agility. A drop of rain dripped from his tousled hair, landing on his shoulder before rolling forward. She followed its path as it slid down and over his pectoral. Trying to regain her composure, she inhaled a deep breath, which was a mistake. She breathed in the heady scent of rain and beautiful man, her agitation amplified by his proximity and the undeniable power surging through his body. She longed to touch him, to know what all that strength would feel like under her fingertips, but she was paralyzed by her own desire and wavered on a dangerous precipice. When she’d cinched the bandage into a neat knot and finally chanced a glance at him, his smile nearly buckled her knees.

“There,” she whispered. “That will stop the bleeding.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?”

His shoulders went rigid as if he were holding himself in tight control. Katherine knew his thoughts had wandered away from the wound in his arm. She asked again, “What do you mean, George?”

His eyes slid closed. “I love to hear my name on your lips.” He opened his eyes again, his jaw set in grave lines. “What I mean, my lady, is that I am bleeding inwardly, and I know of only one way to stop it.”

Katherine was well aware of the tension filling the room, of the rise of her heart rate, of the longing in his gaze, which surely matched her own. She realized she was tumbling over that cliff. And she didn’t care, quite content to drown in his aquamarine gaze.

“How can I stop it, George? Tell me.”

“I’d rather show you.”

About the Author: Juliette is a multi-published author of paranormal and urban fantasy romance. She calls lush, moss-laden Louisiana home, where the landscape curls into her imagination, creating mystical settings for her stories. From the moment she read JANE EYRE as a teenager, she fell in love with the Gothic romance--brooding characters, mysterious settings, persevering heroines, and dark, sexy heroes. Even then, she not only longed to read more books set in Gothic worlds, she wanted to create her own.

Website: https://www.juliettecross.com/ Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/JulietteCross/e/B00MQ18Z1W/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/juliettecrossauthor Twitter: https://twitter.com/Juliette__Cross Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/crossjuliette/ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7795664.Juliette_Cross Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/XeKIn

Since STRANGE GIRL was published a month ago, many people have written to ask about the mystical elements in the book. But the novel at its heart is a love story. Fred meets Aja in the opening chapter and pretty much gets a crush on her right away. True, Aja is a little strange, hence the title. But while writing the book I tried to go back in my mind to how I felt in high school when it came to falling in love and my relationship -- or my lack of one -- with girls as a whole.

I was extremely shy when I was in high school. I did not grow out of the quality until I became a successful novelist in my twenties. But as a teenager at La Mirada High in the early seventies -- I was so shy it was impossible for me to ask a girl out on a date. I was a strong athlete -- I ran track and cross country -- and I was a good student; I got mostly A’s and B’s. But I would just freeze up whenever I spoke to a girl, even if I knew she liked me.

For example, I had a lab partner in biology named Kathy, and I she was always going out of her way to do me small favors. I knew if I asked her out she would definitely say yes. Yet I postponed asking the question until February of 1973. I remember the month because Neil Young was touring to promote the release of his most famous album, Harvest, and I had two tickets to see him at the Forum. When it came to asking out Kathy, I figured, it was now or never. I didn’t want to be one of those guys who went all the way through high school and never went on a date.

I ran into her late one evening at the local library and we talked for a while and I finally popped the question. She looked all excited; I was sure she wanted to go. But then I discovered she had just gone out with another guy named Jim and she felt she would be disloyal to date two guys at once. So I ended up going to the concert with my older brother, who’s name is also Jim. That experience ruined it for me with girls for a while. But there was another girl in high school that I had a crush on. Her name was Judy, and she was without question the prettiest girl in the school -- at least to me. Our lockers were in the same halls so between classes I would often see her. I watched her so much I knew every stitch of clothing she owned. But the thought of asking her out was out of the question. For one thing she was a senior and I was a junior. Back then a girl never went out with a younger guy. It was unheard of.

But a strange thing happened the last day of my junior year. I was all alone in the school library, reading a book, when Judy came in and sat down across from me. She acted casual at first, asked how I was doing. She even called me by name, which shocked me. I had no idea she knew I existed and here she was talking to me like we were friends.

Then, out of the blue, Judy began to tell me how much she liked me. How she had watched me for the last two years. How she used to go to my races to see how I did. She even went so far as to say she was sad she had never got to know me better.

Judy told me all these wonderful things and I just sat there and didn‘t say a word. I couldn’t express any of my feelings for her. I wanted to but I was in shock; my mind short-circuited. Finally I managed to say something like, “That’s nice,” but by then, after pouring her heart out to me, she felt like a fool and began to cry. I tried to comfort her but it was too late and she got up and walked away. Since I only knew her from school, I had no idea where she lived, I had no way to contact her over the summer.

I never saw her again. But for years after that, I was haunted by that day. All the things I should have said but was too afraid to say.

Yet I think the above “encounters” made me a better YA writer. So much of the experience of being a teenager is about discovering what it’s like to fall in love for the first time. Of course, as adults we look back on that phase of our lives and say, “No, you’re not talking about real love. You’re talking about high school crushes.” Well, maybe that’s true to us as adults, but when you’re a teenager the intensity of the feelings are so great they feel real. They feel more real than anything else in the world.

Like I mentioned above, STRANGE GIRL is told from the point of view of a guy named Fred, who falls in love for the first time with a girl named Aja. Granted there are qualities Aja has that make their relationship particularly challenging, but none of that changes what Fred feels for Aja. For him, first love is wonderful, it is agonizing, it is all those things mixed together. It’s true that at the end Fred is left with a broken heart but I doubt he would change a minute he spent with Aja. I hope all of you have a chance to read the book.

Yours, Christopher Pike

Strange Girl Christopher Pike Publisher: Simon Pulse Release Date: November 17, 2015 Genre: Paranormal Mystery ISBN-10: 1481450581 ISBN-13: 978-1481450584 Paperback: 432 pages From #1 New York Times bestselling author Christopher Pike comes a brand-new fascinating and seductive new novel about a girl with a

mysterious ability—but one that carries an unimaginable cost.

From the moment Fred meets Aja, he knows she’s different. She’s pretty, soft-spoken, shy—yet seems to radiate an unusual peace. Fred quickly finds himself falling in love with her.

Then strange things begin to happen around Aja. A riot breaks out that Aja is able to stop by merely speaking a few words. A friend of Fred’s suffers a serious head injury and has a miraculous recovery.

Yet Aja swears she has done nothing.

Unfortunately, Fred is not the only one who notices Aja’s unique gifts. As more and more people begin to question who Aja is and what she can do, she’s soon in grave danger. Because none of them truly understands the source of Aja’s precious abilities—or their devastating cost.

Love Aja or hate her—you will never forget her.

In Strange Girl, #1 bestselling author Christopher Pike has created the rarest of novels—a love story that swings between a heart-pounding mystery and a stirring mystical journey.

Amazon BN BAM IndieBound iBookstore Google Play CHAPTER ONE I STILL GET asked about Aja, where she came from, what it was like to be her friend, to actually date her, whether the stories about her were true, and who—or what—I really thought she was.

The last question makes me smile, probably because I understand it’s hard to talk about Aja without sounding like a nut. That’s what I try telling people who want to know about her. She was a mystery, a genuine enigma, in a world that has more trouble each day believing in such things. And now that she’s gone, I think she’ll forever remain a mystery.

At least to those who loved her.

And to those who feared her.

My name’s Fred Allen, and I was a seventeen-year-old senior in high school when I met Aja. I was heading home on a hot Friday afternoon after a boring two weeks of classes when I spotted her sitting in the park across the street from campus. I’d like to say I saw something special about her from the start but I’d be lying, although later I wondered if she might have been kind of strange.

There was a perfectly fine bench five feet off to her left but instead of sitting on it like a normal person she was kneeling in the grass and plucking at a few scrawny daisies, while occasionally looking up at Elder High’s sweaty student body as they poured into the side streets or else cut across the park toward their homes.

The sweat was because of the humidity. From June until October, it hovered around 90 percent.

But the stickiness was usually vanquished by a brief autumn that blew by in a month or less, and was replaced by bitter winter winds that were so cold they’d bite your ass off—even if you had the bad taste to wear long underwear to school, which only the principal and the teachers did.

I suppose it could have been worse. Elder could have been located in North Dakota instead of South Dakota. Our northern neighbors were something of a mystery to most of us. I mean, it’s not like anyone went to vacation up there. All we really knew about them was that they were always lobbying to change their name to just plain “Dakota.” For some reason they thought that would make their state sound more inviting. Go figure.

Anyway, the thing that struck me about Aja at the start, besides her love of grass and daisies, was that she stared at many of the students who walked by. She didn’t smile at them, didn’t say hi or bat her long lashes or anything seductive like that. She just looked straight at them, which probably made most of them feel uncomfortable. I noticed the majority looked away as they strode by.

I mentioned her long lashes, and yeah, I did happen to notice she was pretty. Not beautiful in the usual social-media way, but an easy eight or nine on Fred Allen’s relatively generous scale of one to ten. Even at a distance of a hundred yards I could see her hair was dark brown, shiny, and that her skin was the same color as my favorite ice cream—Häagen-Dazs Coffee.

Yet I didn’t equate her with ice cream because I wanted to take a bite out of her or anything gross like that. It’s not like I felt some mad rush of seventeen-year-old hormones and experienced first love for the twentieth time. I just sort of, you know, noticed that she looked nice, very nice, and that her long lashes framed a pair of large, dark eyes that were, sadly, not looking anywhere in my direction.

That was it; that was my first impression of Aja. Oh, there was one other thing. I did happen to notice that she had on a simple white dress that didn’t quite reach to her knees. The thing that struck me about the dress was—not that it was filthy—it looked like it could have used a wash.

Introduction to Aja complete. I went home and didn’t give her more than a few hours of thought all weekend. And no, honestly, my fantasies were not a hundred percent sexual. I mainly wondered why a girl her age, if she was new to town, wasn’t going to school. It was just a thought. Elder High, my school, was the only one in town for someone our age.

Monday morning I heard about Aja from my best friend, Janet Shell, five minutes before our first period, calculus, started. I was taking calculus because it was an AP class and my parents were obsessed that I ace as many hard classes as possible so I’d go to college and not grow up to be as miserable as they were.

That was sort of a joke in our household but, unfortunately, it was mostly true. My dad sold new and used cars at a Toyota dealership in a neighboring town of ours, Balen, which actually had a multiplex where the speaker system didn’t sound like a jukebox and there was a generous selection of eight movies. Unlike Elder’s sole theater, where you had to wear 3-D glasses just to keep from squinting at the sagging screen.

My mom also worked in Balen as an executive secretary for a boss that couldn’t have spelled her job title. My parents were both smart, and they loved each other, I think, but when I asked why they hadn’t moved away from Elder—like, say, before I was born—they just told me to pass the salt. What I mean is, the way they fell silent whenever I asked about their past made me feel like I was somehow rubbing salt in old wounds. I joke about it now—a bad habit, I still joke about most things—but it did worry me that they weren’t happy.

Janet Shell, on the other hand, was super happy, or else she knew how to act the part, which according to her was all that mattered. She was taking calculus because she was smart and loved math.

But she was cool, too. For example, although a straight-A student, she intended to get a C in calculus simply because she didn’t want to get elected our class valedictorian.

Besides hating the spotlight, Janet knew if she was required to give a speech to us graduating seniors, there was no way she’d be able to resist telling us that virtually our whole class would still be living in Elder when our ten- and twenty-year high school reunions rolled around—her way of saying that the majority of us were destined to be losers.

“Have you seen the new girl yet?” Janet asked before Mr. Simon showed up his usual five minutes late. We’d had him as our math teacher three years running. The guy came into class reeking of pot almost every morning until Halloween rolled around, when he’d switch over to some kind of mysterious blue pill—Janet swore it was the stimulant Adderall—and lecture us on three chapters a week instead of his normal three pages.

Naturally, Janet’s question about the “new girl” piqued my interest. I’d been looking for her since I’d arrived at school. Still, I acted cool.

“Nope,” I said, adding a shrug.

“Bullshit. You must have seen her. You just blushed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Janet looked me over. “Her name’s Aja—A-J-A. It’s pronounced like Asia but with more of a J sound. She’s a total fox, super exotic-looking. She just moved here from a remote village in Brazil.

Everyone’s talking about her but I hear she’s not talking much. The word is—she’s not stuck-up, just quiet.” Janet paused. “What do you think? Want to ask her out?”

“How about I meet her first, then decide?” I said.

“Okay. But I think with this one you’re going to have to act fast. She’s no Nicole. You can’t wait two years to get up your nerve. She’ll go quick.”

I felt a stab of pain that Janet had so carelessly brought up Nicole but hid it. “What makes you so sure? She might be picky.”

Janet wavered. “True. But a ton of guys are going to hit on her. She’s a looker and she’s got money and she knows how to dress.”

Recalling the plain, dusty dress Aja had been wearing in the park, that surprised me. “Really?”

Janet caught the note in my voice. “You have seen her, you bastard. Why do you lie to me when you’re such a shitty liar? Tell me the truth, have you talked to her?”

I sighed. “I saw a new girl last Friday while walking home from school. She was sitting in the park, plucking flowers. I’m not sure she’s the same person you’re talking about.”

“Right. Like this town has a surplus of beautiful girls.”

“Hold on a sec. You’re the one who says us guys are always judging a book by its cover. Well, what are you doing? So she’s pretty. So she’s got expensive clothes. She could still be a jerk.”

“She’s not, she’s cool.” Janet leaned closer, lowered her voice. “I met her, I spoke to her.”

“When?”

“Ten minutes ago. We only exchanged a few words but I sensed something unique about her.”

Janet paused. “You know the last time I said that, don’t you?”

“Ages ago. When you met me.”

“That’s right. That’s why you need to ask her out.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Mr. Simon stumbled in right then, smelling like Colombian Gold, and told us to open our textbooks to chapter three. It was Janet who had to remind him that we hadn’t covered chapter two yet.

I spent most of the class digesting what Janet had said. I’d learned long ago to take her insights seriously. Janet was not merely smart; she had an uncanny intuition when it came to people. She said 99.99 percent of the population were sheep. If she liked Aja, it meant she was more than a pretty face.

I saw Aja in third period, before lunch, in American History.

We were in the same class. Just my luck.

Maybe, I thought, maybe not. My usual seat was in the corner, all the way in the back. Aja came in two minutes after me and sat down in the first row, but the last seat, by the windows. Basically, even though we occupied the same room, she was pretty far away. I couldn’t help but think she’d somehow spotted me, remembered me staring at her the previous Friday afternoon, and had gone out of her way to keep her distance.

Of course, given the fact that she hadn’t even glanced in my direction when she’d entered the classroom, I was probably just being paranoid.

She looked good, better than good. There were plenty of heads between me and her and all I could see was Aja’s. Her dark hair appeared a little shorter than last Friday, like she’d gotten a trim over the weekend. But the shine was still there. And her long eyelashes, seen in profile, were amazing.

Our teacher, Mrs. Nancy Billard, came into the room. A stuffy, old bird if you got on her wrong side, but one of the most caring people you could meet if she happened to like you. She taught AP English on top of history and I’d had her for English the previous year and had won her over with a slew of wild-and-crazy short stories I’d written. She liked students who thought outside the box.

However, those who landed on her wrong side were either flunked or ignored or both. In her AP classes she enforced a strict work ethic. She said anyone who wanted to go to college had to earn it.

“I see we have a new student today,” she said, glancing in Aja’s direction. “I was told you’d be joining us. What’s your name?”

“Aja,” she replied in a soft voice.

“Is that your first or last name?”

“It’s what people call me.”

Billard cleared her throat, a bad sign. “Then that’s what I’ll call you. But please humor the rest of the class and tell us your full name.”

“Aja Smith.”

“Took a moment to remember your family name?”

Aja stared at her and said nothing.

Billard continued. “Well, we’re all very happy you could join us two weeks late. Another week and you’d have wandered in during the Civil War. Ted, fetch a textbook for Aja from the closet and let’s all open to page forty-nine, chapter three. Time we got to the thirteen colonies and their feud with King George the Third.” Billard paused and glanced at Aja again. “Do you have a problem, girl?”

“No.” “You’re looking at me kind of funny. I thought maybe you did.” Aja didn’t reply, just continued to stare at her, which didn’t sit well with Billard. “You do know something about American history, don’t you?”

“No,” Aja replied.

Billard blinked, unsure whether Aja was sassing her or not. “Then it’s your responsibility to catch up. This is an AP class—there are no shortcuts here. Read the first forty-eight pages of your textbook tonight and I’ll quiz you on them tomorrow.”

Aja nodded without speaking as she accepted the textbook from Ted Weldon, a football jock with a double-digit IQ and a gross habit of farting whenever he yawned. Some might have wondered what he was doing in an AP class. But those who bothered to contemplate the matter probably didn’t know that Ted’s father was best buddies with Elder High’s Principal Levitt and that—despite what Billard had just said—there were always shortcuts available to those students whose parents knew the right people.

Handing Aja her textbook, Ted didn’t simply look at her; he gloated over her face and body before returning to his chair, eliciting a mild chuckle from the rest of the class.

“Thanks,” Aja said. Her voice was not merely soft, it was smooth, cool, confident. She obviously didn’t have to speak up to make a point. Plus her answers to Billard’s questions had been at best evasive, which I naturally had to admire.

Yet I could tell already that Billard didn’t like her and that Aja was probably going to have a hard time in her class. That bothered me, a little, even though she was a total stranger.

Total stranger. Damn. Got to change that fast.

I remembered Janet’s warning that Aja would not last when it came to Elder High’s horny guys, and it got my adrenaline pumping. When class was over I caught up with her outside in the hallway and walked by her side before she stopped at her locker. Oh no, I thought. I wasn’t ready for this. Suddenly a life-changing choice was upon me. I could either keep walking and live the rest of my days in regret or I could stop and pretend to have a locker next to her.

I did the latter, spinning the dial on the lock like it was preset to my favorite radio station. Only the volume never came on and the locker never opened because I had no idea what the combination was. Fortunately, Aja seemed to be having trouble with her own locker and I was able to swoop in and rescue her.

“It’s not opening?” I asked, way too casually and with a stupid grin on my face.

Aja pulled a slip of paper from her pants pocket and stuck it out for me to take. “I was told this is the combination,” she said.

Aja didn’t have on ordinary pants; she wore designer jeans that had clearly been purchased far from Elder’s finest clothing stores. Up top she had on an ultrathin maroon sweater; and if it was responsible for her subtle curves, then it was worth its weight in gold. Her silky blouse had red in it as well—a rusty color that made me think of desert sand dunes and romantic sunset kisses and . . .

I was losing it, I suddenly realized. Aja’s big brown eyes were still waiting for me to take her slip of paper. I shook my head and took a breath. Breathing was good, I reminded myself.

“This looks like it might work,” I said. Duh! The piece of paper said: “LOCKER NUMBER” on top. A sequence of three numbers followed: 12–18–24. All the locks in school—all the combinations I’d ever seen, for that matter—worked on the right-left-right sequence. When I dialed in Aja’s three

digits, the locker immediately opened. Amazing. I noticed her eyes following me closely and added, “You see how it works?”

“Yes,” she replied, and it was only then I realized she’d never had a locker before. She deposited her book inside and closed it. Out of habit, I reached up and spun the dial.

“You can’t be too careful,” I said.

“Pardon?”

“Your lock. You need to spin it to clear the combination.” She didn’t respond, just stared at me.

Again, I felt the need to add something. “So no one will break into your locker.”

“Kids do that here?” she asked.

“Some kids do, yeah.” Again, she seemed to wait for me to continue so I added, “Actually, the students here don’t like being called kids.”

“What should I call them?”

“Girls or guys or people. Kids—it sounds kind of young, you know.”

“I didn’t know that but thanks for telling me.”

“No problem. By the way, my name’s Fred Allen. I’m in your history class. I sit in the back.”

“I saw you.”

“You did?” God, the way I asked the question, the sheer amount of wonder in my tone, it was like she’d just told me she’d found a heart donor that could save my life. I reminded myself again to keep breathing and try to act normal. Fortunately, Aja didn’t appear to notice my clumsiness.

“Yes,” she said simply, adding, “I’m Aja.” “I know. I mean, I heard what you told Mrs. Billard.” Aja nodded and again acted as if she wanted me to keep talking. I added, “She can be a great teacher if she thinks you’re trying. But slack off and she’ll classify you as a loser. Then you’ll be in trouble. She was serious when she told you that she’s going to quiz you on the first two chapters of the textbook. If I was you I’d study tonight. I’d read chapter three as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if she quizzed you on the whole lot.”

“I will.” She looked past me as the student body converged toward Elder High’s courtyard. We had an indoor cafeteria but no one ventured inside before the first snow came. The school lunch staff didn’t mind. They kept a half-dozen windows open where you could order a decent hamburger, hot dog, or sandwich if you had the money. Since I was on a strict budget, I usually brought a brown bag from home and just picked up a Coke from one of the vending machines. In fact, my lunch was waiting for me back at my real locker, although I felt in no hurry to get to it.

“The kids . . . the girls and guys have lunch now?” Aja asked.

“Yeah. It’s always after third period. Are you hungry?”

“This bod . . .” She suddenly stopped. “Yes.” “Bring anything from home?” I knew she hadn’t because I’d seen the interior of her locker and it had been empty. She shook her head and for the hundredth time waited for me to go on. I added, “Then you should probably pick up something at the windows.”

“Are you going to these . . . windows?”

“Uh-huh. I can show you where they are if you want. If you don’t have other plans, I mean.”

She flashed a smile. “I don’t have any plans, Fred.”

I liked how she said my name and loved her smile; nevertheless, I groaned inside thinking how hard Janet would be laughing if she could see me now. Honestly, my nervousness made no sense. Sure, Aja was pretty, and, sure, I liked her, or at least I thought I did. But she was the new girl in town, a stranger from another country, and English was obviously a second language for her. She should have been the one stumbling all over the place.

I assumed the language barrier was the reason she had almost referred to herself as “This body.”

I was pretty sure that’s what she’d been about to say.

I escorted her to the windows and if I’d been forced to critique my stride I’d have to say I looked like an extra on The Walking Dead. I was definitely taking time finding my cool gear. But eventually I began to calm down and by the time we’d waited in line and it was our turn to order I was feeling pretty good about myself. Why not? I’d just met Aja and already I was taking her to lunch. Not bad for a few minutes’ work. I’d decided to pay for whatever she ordered to show what a gentleman I was.

“Hey, Fred, how’s the demo going?” Carlos asked from the other side of the glass. He was from Mexico and worked three jobs to keep his family of six out of the rain. He was also a genius when it came to playing the acoustic guitar and was helping me to lay down tracks on a new three-song demo I was struggling to put together.

Yeah, I know, so I wanted to be a rock star.

But tell the truth. Who didn’t?

“It’s getting there,” I said honestly, turning to Aja, who was staring at Carlos and not bothering to look at the overhead menu. To his credit, Carlos acted like I showed up every afternoon with a pretty girl on my arm. “Know what you want?” I asked Aja. She looked at me. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Want a burger? A sandwich? A salad?”

“I’ll have what you’re having,” she said.

“I was going to have a turkey sandwich with fries. And a Coke. That sound good?”

Aja nodded. “That’s good.”

Carlos whipped up our sandwiches in three minutes flat and when it was time to pay Aja pulled out a wad of cash fat enough to buy a new car with. I hastily told her I had it covered and she put the money back in her pocket.

Like the rest of town, Elder High was kind of old and kind of poor, and no part of our campus reflected those qualities more than our courtyard. It had no tables, no umbrellas to block the sun, no drinking fountains. Only peeling wooden benches that, if you were lucky, managed to catch the shade of a nearby tree.

Of course we had trees, the whole state did, except for our infamous Badlands, which I, personally, happened to love. I steered Aja toward a shady bench located somewhere between where the jocks and the bad boys gathered. Like most schools, Elder High had a variety of clearly defined social groups, none of which had ever shown the slightest interest in attracting me as a member.

For a few minutes I had Aja all to myself but I wasted them because all I did was eat and watch her eat. It was during this time I noticed that she seemed to be following my lead. When I unwrapped my turkey sandwich, she unwrapped hers. When I reached for a fry or a sip of Coke, she did the same.

She didn’t take nearly as big bites as I did, though. If anything she chewed her food more thoroughly than anyone I’d ever met.

But she only mimicked me for a few minutes before quitting.

“Where are you from?” I finally asked.

Aja pointed north. “I live with my aunt Clara. In a white house by a large pond.”

I had meant where she was from in Brazil but her answer interested me. “You don’t live in the old Carter Mansion, do you?”

“Carter? Hmm. Yes, the realtor told Aunty that was the name of the man who built the house.

That’s where this . . . that’s where I stay.”

“That’s one big house. Is it just the two of you?”

“Bart lives with us.”

“Who’s Bart?”

“Bart is Bart. He takes care of things.”

“Is he a housekeeper? A butler?”

“Yes. He’s been with Aunty since before I met her.”

“How old were you when you met your aunt?”

“I was small.” Aja added casually, “I ran into her in the jungle.”

“The jungle?”

“The town where I was born is surrounded by jungle.”

“And you just sort of bumped into your aunt?”

“Yes.” “Are you saying she’s not your real aunt?”

Aja sipped her drink. “She’s as real as you and me.”

I frowned. “This was in Brazil?”

“Yes.” I wanted to continue my line of questioning but we got interrupted right then by Dale Parish and Michael Garcia, two close friends of mine. Actually, two members of a band I’d formed—Half Life.

Dale played bass and Mike was our drummer. Dale had only been playing a year but he was a natural and kept improving in leaps and bounds every month. Mike—he’d been banging on anything that made noise since he’d been a kid. No joke, he was like a force of nature onstage. We were lucky to have him.

I kept expecting to lose him to a louder and more successful group.

Yet Mike swore he’d never leave us. He had faith in my singing and songwriting abilities.

Unfortunately, he also had a temper and was unpredictable. He missed plenty of practice sessions, even a few paid gigs. We never knew which Mike was going to show up. If he was loaded, on pot or beer, we knew the “Beast” was in the room and we’d better watch out. But when he was sober he was the nicest guy. The swings could be stressful.

Worse, Mike caused Dale constant grief. Because Dale was in love with him and Mike didn’t have a clue. On the surface it seemed impossible, since they’d grown up together. But the truth was Mike didn’t even know Dale was gay. And Dale had begged me and our keyboardist, Shelly Wilson, never to tell him.

Carlos had warned me—and Carlos never lied—that Mike often hung out with a Hispanic gang in Balen that controlled most of the area’s drug traffic. If anything was going to tear our band apart, I knew it was going to be the tension between our drummer and bass player.

“Who do we have here?” Mike asked, straddling the bench beside Aja like it—or she—was a horse he was anxious to ride. Dale nodded to me and smiled uneasily in Aja’s direction but remained standing.

Physically, the two couldn’t have been more unlike. Mike was dark-skinned, short and stocky, and could bench-press more than Elder’s heartiest jocks. If a swinging chick was looking for a bad boy who could rip holes in the sheets, Mike was it. While Dale—well, I never met a more gentle soul in my life but there was a reason his stage name was “The Corpse.” He was way beyond skinny and pale.

Onstage, under a harsh spotlight, he almost looked transparent. But the boy sure could play. That was all that mattered to me.

I spoke up. “Aja, these are two musician friends of mine, Mike and Dale. We’re in a band together. Dale plays bass and Mike the drums. Guys, this is Aja. She’s from Brazil. This is her first day at Elder High.”

Aja nodded in their direction. “I enjoy music.”

“But do you like musicians?” Mike asked, teasing. “That’s what I want to know. Besides, what the hell are you doing with Fred? Did he tell you he’s such a wuss that he won’t go onstage—and I’m talking practically every single gig we play—without me swearing that I’ve got his back?”

“I’m afraid it’s true,” I admitted. In the band, during shows, once Mike got going he created such a ferocious rhythm that he drowned out any flat notes I hit on my guitar or with my voice.

“Fred has more talent in his little finger than the rest of us combined,” Dale added.

Mike slapped me on the back. “Yeah, Fred’s the only one in this town that’s going places. Take my word for it. So how did you two meet?”

I assumed Aja would remain silent, given her habit, and that I’d have to answer. However, she stared Mike right in the eye and said, “We met last Friday in the park. He was watching me pick flowers and I smiled at him but he ignored me. But today he’s a lot more friendly.”

Her comment caused my heart to skip.

She’d smiled at me?

Mike was suddenly curious about her accent. “¿Hablan español en el lugar de Brasil de donde vienes?” he asked.

“No muchos. Pero algunos,” Aja said. “¿Pero creciste hablando portugués?” Mike asked.

“Sim,” Aja said.

“What the hell are they saying?” I asked Dale. He’d taken four years of Spanish at school but his real knowledge of the language had come from hanging around Mike’s family. Dale leaned over and whispered in my ear.

“Mike asked if they spoke Spanish in her part of Brazil. Aja said, ‘Not many, but some.’ Then Mike asked, ‘But you grew up speaking Portuguese?’ And Aja said, ‘Yes.’ ” “Why the sudden interest in Aja’s background?” I said. But Mike ignored me and continued to speak to Aja, who appeared to fascinate him.

“Your accent—you remind me of my grandmother,” Mike said. “She could speak half a dozen languages. She sounded like she was from everywhere, and nowhere, if you know what I mean. Sort of like you.”

Aja lowered her head. “Ninguém do nada.”

“What was that?” I asked quickly.

Apparently she’d answered in Portuguese, which neither Mike nor Dale understood. When I asked Aja what she’d said, all she did was shake her head like it didn’t matter.

Dale flashed Mike a sign that it was time to split and Mike, knowing my bad luck with girls, bid us a quick farewell. When they were gone Aja and I returned to eating our sandwiches and fries. A long silence settled between us but to my surprise it wasn’t uncomfortable. I suspected Aja had spent most of her life alone and wasn’t bothered by quiet.

“I apologize for Mike,” I said. “He can be a handful when you first meet him.”

“He has a fiery spirit.”

“I suppose that’s where all the smoke comes from.”

Aja turned her big, brown eyes on me. “They look up to you. Are you that good?”

I assumed she was asking about my musical abilities and shrugged. “As far as South Dakota is concerned, I could be the next Mozart. But if I performed at a club in Los Angeles or New York or Seattle I’d be laughed off the stage.” I took a gulp of Coke. “Trying to make a living as a singer/songwriter is probably the most irrational ambition a guy can have. One in a million—no, one in ten million—ends up making money at it.”

“But it’s what you want to do,” she said.

“Unfortunately.”

“Then you’ll do it.”

I chuckled. “You haven’t even seen us play.”

The remark was far from subtle. I was hoping she’d bite and say she’d like to come to a show.

Also, it wasn’t by chance that I’d switched from talking about me to talking about the band. If she didn’t bite, then she was rejecting Half Life, not me. So went my crazy logic. The truth was I’d brought up being a musician to impress her. It was shameless, I know, but I figured I had to play what cards I held.

“Is it fun for you?” she asked.

“Being onstage? Sometimes—when I forget what I’m doing and that people are watching me.

Then I love it. But most of the time I’m way too self-conscious and can’t wait until the gig is over.

Seriously.”

Aja continued to stare at me and because she didn’t blink often, it was a bit disconcerting. “Play for me sometime,” she said.

There. I’d practically begged her to ask but now that she had I wished I’d kept my mouth shut. I shook my head. “I’m not a solo artist. Better to see me in the band.”

She nodded but I didn’t think she believed me.

“How about you?” I asked. “What’s your favorite hobby?”

She hesitated. “I don’t have any hobbies. I just . . . enjoy things.”

“What sort of things?”

“Bart told me to watch out for questions like that. He said they’d get me into trouble.”

Her response caught me off guard. “Huh?” “I told you about Bart.”

“I know, I heard you. But he actually told you how to behave while you were at school today?”

Aja nodded. “He spent the weekend trying to teach me what to say and what not to say.”

“Isn’t that a little weird?”

If my question bothered her, she showed no sign. “Bart said he had to teach me so I wouldn’t appear weird to the rest of you.” As if to reassure me, she reached out and touched my arm. “He was trying to help.”

The instant she touched me, I felt something odd, a lapse of sorts, where I had trouble focusing.

The scene around us, the guys and girls walking back and forth across the courtyard, they didn’t stop but they did seem to slow down. I shook my head to clear it and the sensation eased up, somewhat. I noticed Aja had taken back her hand. I had to struggle to get out my next remark.

“I should meet this guy. Maybe he can help me with my weirdness.”

Aja suddenly stood, leaving what was left of her food behind on the bench. She wasn’t tall but at that moment she could have been standing on a chair and looking down at me. I worried that my peculiar sensation had not passed, after all. Again, I had to remind myself that she was new to the school, the stranger in a strange land, but right then I was certain I had it all wrong, that she was more at home in Elder than I could ever hope to be.

“I’m glad we got to talk, Fred. I hope I see you again soon.”

With that she turned and walked away.

About the Author: Christopher Pike is a bestselling author of young adult novels. The Thirst series, The Secret of Ka, and the Remember Me and Alosha trilogies are some of his favorite titles. He is also the author of several adult novels, including Sati and The Season of Passage.

Thirst and Alosha are slated to be released as feature films. Pike currently lives in Santa Barbara, where it is rumored he never leaves his house.

But he can be found online at www.Facebook.com/ChristopherPikeBooks Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/RealChristopherPike Series of writing advice on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/52999302

Top Ten Kickass Heroines For those who don’t know me, my name is Lori Sjoberg. I’m the author of Grave Attraction, a paranormal romance. I’ve always been a sucker for a strong heroine, one who isn't afraid to confront her worst fears, uses her brain to get out of sticky situations, and maybe kicks a little ass in the process.

They're the types of heroines I personally want to read about, and they're also the types of heroines I enjoy writing.

Here are just a few of my favorite strong and/or kickass heroines from books, movies, and television. It took a bit of work to whittle it down to just ten, so make sure to leave a comment and let me know which ones I missed!

Rey – Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Usually, I include Leia on my list, but after watching Star Wars: The Force Awakens, I think the torch has passed to Rey. She’s smart, resourceful, and if she runs into trouble, she isn’t going to wait around for somebody to rescue her. I can’t wait to see how her character develops over the next two installments of the new trilogy.

Clarice Starling – Silence of the Lambs

In both the book and the movie, Clarice was an intelligent and tough FBI agent-in-training who refused to be held back in a male dominated field. She kept her wits about her as she went toe-to-toe with Hannibal Lecter and took down Buffalo Bill.

Sarah Connor – Terminator; Terminator 2: Judgment Day

Haunted. Driven. Fierce. I'm still in awe of Linda Hamilton's transformation from mousy waitress to buff, gun-toting warrior bent on saving her son - and the world - from Skynet. Look at those biceps!

Buffy Summers – Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Buffy was the antithesis of the helpless girl who gets slaughtered in every horror movie. Imagine fighting vampires and demons while dealing with high school angst. That alone earns her a spot on the list!

Dana Scully – The X-Files

Scully was the consummate skeptic, only believing what could be proven through science. She examined each case with a critical eye, searching for a plausible, scientific explanation. Late in the series, she became a believer, but it took a heck of a lot of convincing! Éowyn – The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (book and movie)

A noblewoman of Rohan and also a shieldmaiden, Éowyn isn’t about to sit back and let the men do all the fighting. And that’s a good thing, since she manages to kill the Witch King during the Battle of the Pelennor Fields.

Hermoine Granger – Harry Potter series (both books and movies)

Let’s be honest, she was the brains of the entire series. If it wasn’t for Hermoine, the boys wouldn’t have survived long enough to battle You-Know-Who. Katniss Everdeen – The Hunger Games (books and movies)

Before taking her sister’s place in the games, she was the glue that held her family together. Resilient, rebellious, and more vulnerable than she realizes, Katniss not only survives the games, but she also inspires a rebellion.

Claire Fraser – The Outlander Series (books and television series)

Former WWII combat nurse, Claire Fraser, gets the surprise of her life when she steps into a stone circle in Scotland and ends up two hundred years in the past. Not only does she need to find a way to return to the present, but she also has to deal with a determined English soldier who wants to know all of her secrets and the Scottish clansmen who suspect she’s a spy (or maybe a witch). And then there’s one James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser to consider….

Marlena Walther – Grave Attraction

A shifter who’s over four hundred years-old, Marlena’s seen her fair share of action. She’s fierce, smart, resourceful, and loyal, but she’s never recovered from the loss of her mate many years ago.

Imagine her surprise when she encounters reaper Adam Javorski and realizes their connection run souldeep.

How about you? Who are your favorite kickass fictional heroines?

GRAVE ATTRACTION Grave Series Book Four Lori Sjoberg Genre: Paranormal Romance Publisher: Lyrical Press Date of Publication: January 5, 2016 ISBN: 9781601832719 ASIN: B00VZZM4YE Number of pages: approx. 247 Word Count: approx. 90,000 Cover Artist: Lyrical Press Book Description: He’s a reaper who works by the book. But a sexy shifter will have him changing the course of fate just to be with her—if a killer doesn’t get to her first…

After four years as a reaper, helping souls cross into the afterlife is a job Adam Javorski has finally gotten used to. But when he arrives at the site of a serial killer’s latest victim, finding a living—not to mention gorgeous—hostage is the last thing he expects. The young woman captivates him in a way no one ever has—so much so, he breaks rule number one by helping her escape…

Marlena Walther doesn’t remember the man who rescued her. But when she sees Adam again, she recognizes him instantly as her soul mate. While the two work together to track down a killer determined to finish what he started, their undeniable attraction draws them even closer. Now Adam is the only one who can protect Marlena from a vengeful murderer—if he’s willing to sacrifice everything for her.

Amazon BN iTunes Kobo Google Play Excerpt 1: It was a wonder none of the neighbors had noticed that something wasn’t right with the house. Storm shutters covered every single window, with locks keeping them bolted in place. It might be considered normal during hurricane season, but year-round? Definitely weird. The pulse of pending mortality emanated from the building, weak but growing stronger by the minute. Soon, death would claim another victim, leaving Adam to clean up the mess.

As a reaper, that was his calling. Day in and day out, he claimed the souls of the recently departed and guided them to the next stage in their journey. Often, that meant a better place. Other times … not so much.

He’d been on the job for almost four years, after losing his own humanity in the south side of Chicago on a warm October night. Back then he’d been a cop, and a damn good one. But that hadn’t stopped him from royally fucking up and damning his soul in the process.

Shaking his head, he forced the painful memories from his thoughts and focused on the house across the street.

Inside, the call of death intensified, gathering steam until it buzzed through his blood like a chain saw. He gritted his teeth when it reached a crescendo, his hands clenched against the steering wheel. He hated this part—not doing anything when you knew someone was about to die. It went against all of his instincts. But Fate had strict rules concerning interference, and he knew better than to challenge her authority.

Less than five minutes later the garage door opened and a silver four-door sedan backed down the driveway.

Seven little stick figure decals were lined up on the back window, and Adam couldn’t help but wonder if they signified actual family members or the number of people he’d murdered. As for the killer himself, he seemed deceptively average: white male, average height, average build, with short graying hair and brown eyes. No visible scars, tattoos, piercings, or other distinguishing features. His mediocrity served as camouflage to conceal a predator lurking in plain sight.

As soon as the car drove out of the subdivision, Adam popped the lock to his door. “Call me if he comes back early,” he told Martin as he stepped out of the truck. From past experience and Dmitri’s notes, he knew the guy would only be gone for about ten minutes. Just long enough for the sick fuck to buy a half gallon of ice cream from the nearby grocery store.

Under cover of darkness, Adam crossed the street and approached the wood-frame house. He ignored the sign that warned of an alarm, since it merely served as a deterrent. No serial killer worth his salt would run the risk of the alarm sounding off and triggering a visit by local law enforcement. Retrieving the set of picks from his back pocket, he worked on the locks on the front door. The bottom one opened with little effort, but the dead bolt gave him a minute of trouble before the tumblers clicked into place. He took a deep breath, mentally bracing himself for the horrors that waited inside. The stench of fresh death and lingering decay assaulted his nostrils the instant he crept into the foyer. As a cop, he’d never gotten used to the smell, and he doubted he ever would as a reaper. With the lights out, he couldn’t see a damn thing, but he waited to flip the switch until after the door clicked shut.

The small foyer led into a large living room with a brick fireplace. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture in sight, and the vaulted ceilings and shuttered windows gave the place a cavernous feel. Blue plastic tarps covered the hardwood floor, probably to protect it from stains. Or perhaps they were there to make it easier for the killer to remove the body.

The victim was a male this time, barely out of his teens. The poor kid had been chained by his wrists to the wall a few feet away from the fireplace. He was clad in only a pair of ratty black jeans, with a silver collar fastened around his neck. The blade of a dagger was buried in a chest so mutilated it was almost unrecognizable. His pale green eyes stared into oblivion, his mouth opened in a silent scream. The soul had already broken free from the corpse, hovering close but

not quite touching. Confused and despondent, he retained his human form, unaware that he no longer needed to conform to his prior physical constraints.

Pushing back against a rush of anger, Adam stepped closer to the body. The cop in him demanded immediate justice, but that was no longer part of his job description. He narrowed his focus, reaching out with his mind until he locked onto the kid’s essence. He sensed no taint of evil on the soul as he slowly drew it toward him. To calm the spirit he sent out wordless reassurances, promising safety, closure, and the end to physical pain.

Pacified, the soul offered no resistance, merging with Adam’s body in a wash of benevolent warmth. The kid’s essence carried a unique quality that Adam couldn’t quite define. Demon, mage? Honestly, he couldn’t say for sure. His experience with non-humans was limited. As the kid’s spirit distilled to its purest form, it became aware of the death of its body, and confusion gave way to panic.

“You’ve got to get out of here before he gets back! Please! Go, and warn the others. If he finds them, he’ll kill them all—oh wait! You need to free the girl first. She doesn’t deserve what he plans to do to her. Please say yes, I’ll do anything you want, please, please, please …”

Adam squeezed his eyes shut while he contained the soul, blocking out the unwanted flood of emotions for the sake of his own sanity. During his time on the force, he’d grown desensitized to crime scenes, but all that training flew right out the window when the dead insisted on talking. For him, it was one of the toughest parts about being a reaper, so much that it came close to breaking him during his first year on the job.

Finished, he turned away from the body, eager for a breath of fresh air. And a beer. He was halfway to the front door when a female’s voice shouted out from the rear of the house.

About the Author: Lori Sjoberg is the award winning author of the GRAVE SERIES. She lives in Florida with her husband and four-legged fur baby.

Growing up the youngest of three girls, Lori never had control of the remote. (Not that she's bitter about that. Really. Okay, maybe a little, but it's not like she's scarred for life or anything.) That meant a steady diet of science fiction and fantasy. Star Trek, Star Wars, Twilight Zone, Outer Limits - you name it, she watched it.

It fed her imagination, and that came in handy when the hormones kicked in and she needed a creative excuse for being out past curfew.

After completing her first novel, she joined the Romance Writers of America and Central Florida Romance Writers. Now she exercises the analytical half of her brain at her day job, and the creative half writing sensual paranormal romance. Grim reapers are her specialty, but she loves to write about all creatures of the night.

You can read more about Lori at http://lorisjoberg.com/ https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLoriSjoberg @Lori_Sjoberg https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6574214.Lori_Sjoberg

Alphas in the Wild Ann Gimpel Dream Shadow Press 102K words Release Date: 12/21/15 Genre: Paranormal Romance Anthology Dark. Delicious. Unforgettable.

The hottest alphas live--and love--in the mountains.

Tumble into second-chance love, where magics collide, mountain gods are out for blood, and aliens invade Earth.

Book Description: Alphas in the Wild is an action adventure, paranormal romance collection with three full-length books.

Hello Darkness Earth magics collide, forcing Moira Shaughnessy to take a chance on a man who hurt her so badly she never forgave him.

A ranger for the U.S. Park Service, Moira is in serious trouble. Fleeing from her cheating husband, who’s a Native American shaman, she stumbles into the arms of a man she never thought she’d see again. He hurt her once by choosing his magic over her. Would she be a fool to take a chance on him now?

Alpine Attraction Tina made a pact with the devil seven years ago. It’s time to pay the piper—or die.

Independent to the nth degree, Tina meets everything in her life head-on—except love.

Caught between misgivings and need, Tina signs on as team doctor for one of Craig’s climbing trips to the Andes. Though he was the love of her life, she pushed him away years before to keep him safe.

Even if he doesn’t love her anymore, there’s still no one she’d rather have by her side in the mountains.

And if she’s going to die, she wants to make things right between them.

A Run For Her Money Sara’s day begins like any other. A routine extraction in tandem with a local Search and Rescue team.

Routine crashes to a halt when she ends up trapped in a hut, high in the Sierras. Four days later, running out of food for herself and her dog, she makes a bold dash for safety.

Jared’s walking the Muir Trail when all hell breaks loose. After hunkering beneath a boulder pile for days, he dares a difficult cross-country route, hoping it’ll put him into position to approach a backcountry ranger station. He locates the station, but it’s locked tight. He’s packing up to leave when a helicopter lands, with Sara at the helm. There’s no time to trade war stories. It takes a leap of faith, but they throw in their lot together. Can they face the impossible and come out the other side unscathed?

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Excerpt from Hello Darkness: Hello darkness my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again.

Paul Simon, Sounds of Silence

Chapter One Moira Shaughnessy’s booted feet hit the ground in front of the Family Medicine Clinic. Slamming the door of the dusty white Park Service pickup, she considered ignoring her boss’s orders, peeling out of the parking lot, and heading for the Baxter Pass trailhead. She had a crew to oversee, goddammit. A work project to complete. But her boss, John,

had been painstakingly clear, both yesterday at Park Headquarters in Three Rivers, and a mere ten minutes ago on the sat phone. Granted, he’d been far more pointed on the phone.

“It’s not a suggestion, Moira,” he’d growled. “This is a directive—from me. I want to hear from someone with MD after his name before I authorize you to head up that work detail. Do not set one foot on the trail before you receive my orders, e-sign them, and e-mail them back to me.”

“But that’s usually a formality—” “Not this time. No buts. I made you an appointment at the clinic in Bishop that clears some of our crews. They’re open until six. I already lost two rangers this summer in the Pinecrest fire. That was two too many in my book, so get your butt into that clinic.”

Moira gritted her teeth. She’d thought she could avoid dealing with the whole mess by leaving the office early yesterday and taking one of the northern passes over the Sierra Nevada Mountains, but John tracked her down.

Phooey. I ran, but guess I couldn’t hide…

It was downright annoying that her boss needed a doctor to reassure him she wouldn’t collapse—or something—in the backcountry. For the briefest of moments, she felt like pounding her fist into the nearest tree, but then she pulled herself together. Nothing was wrong with her, except her slimy, cheating husband. Sure, she’d lost a few pounds since she left him, but she hadn’t been all that hungry.

Problem was, John remembered similar struggles from years ago when she first started working as a park ranger.

She hadn’t eaten enough then, either, and grew far too thin. Just her luck, he’d been overseeing a backcountry work detail when she got woozy and fell off one of the mules.

Understanding surfaced; embarrassment followed. Her boss cared about her. That wasn’t a bad thing. Anger bled out of her with a whoosh.

“May as well get this over with,” she muttered.

Moira walked briskly to the clinic, pushed the door open, and headed for the counter. The antiseptic smell common to all medical offices hit her like a wall as she strode across the scrubbed linoleum floor.

“Yes?” A young woman with dyed red hair looked up from her computer screen with eyes so green she had to be wearing colored contact lenses.

“Moira Shaughnessy. I think you’re expecting me. My boss called from Kings Canyon-Sequoia Park Headquarters.”

The receptionist clicked a few keys. “Your insurance card, please.”

Moira blew out a frazzled breath and dug through her fanny pack for her wallet. Once she found it, she extracted the plasticized Blue Cross card, handing it over. “I’m really in a bit of a hurry—” “Here’s your card back.” The clerk gestured at the nearly full waiting room. “The doctor will be with you as soon as he can. He had a full schedule before he agreed to work you in.”

“Is it okay if I go outside for a few minutes? I need to lock my truck. I, uh, didn’t think I’d be in here for very long.”

“Sure. So long as we know where to find you.” The phone trilled, and the receptionist picked it up, Moira obviously forgotten. “Family Medicine, how may I help you?”

Moira let herself back outside. Too restless to return to the overcrowded waiting room, she paced up and down the parking lot. Fall had turned the aspen trees lining Bishop’s streets to shades of red and gold that were quite striking, but all she could think about were the minutes ticking by. It was twelve miles from the trailhead to the top of the pass, and a couple more to where her trail crew was. Leaving today would be foolhardy at this point. She’d never even make the pass before night fell.

“Damn it!” She glanced at her watch. How long was this going to take anyway?

“Ms. Shaughnessy?” A man’s voice sounded from behind her.

She spun, surprised out of her funk.

And stopped dead.

“Tim?” Moira stared at the tall, rangy man with long, white-blond hair and ice-blue eyes. He was dressed in teal scrubs and sandals with a stethoscope draped around his neck. A broad grin split the clean planes of his face. She’d forgotten how heartbreakingly beautiful he was.

“I saw the name and hoped it was you.” He held out a hand, but she remained frozen in place. “After all, how many Moira Shaughnessys could there be?”

She stood there, flabbergasted. What were the odds? She hadn’t seen Tim O’Malley since they’d both graduated from U.C. Davis. When she realized her mouth was hanging open, she shut it with a snap.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” One corner of his mouth turned down in an expression she remembered all too well.

“It’s just… I mean I never expected…” She felt warmth rise from the open neck of her buff-colored uniform shirt.

Heat suffused her face until she was certain every freckle was outlined in bright, living color.

“Hey, mo ghrá. I know we didn’t split up under the best of circumstances…”

“No shit. And you can skip the beloved part.” A familiar anger stirred, but she batted it aside.

“Moira, I’m sorry. I was sorry then, and I still am.” He sounded so sincere, it tugged at her heartstrings. Part of her wanted to believe him, and part of her was afraid to.

“Grannie told me some of it—about the Arch Druid stuff. And you having to be celibate or something.”

He creased his brow, the smile fading. “I’m glad she did. I was sworn to silence about Druid affairs.” He cleared his throat. “In truth, I still am.”

“What she told me didn’t make it any easier. I tried to call you—a bunch of times.”

“I know.”

“Christ, Tim, it’s been close to ten years.”

He looked chagrined. “I suppose I know that too.”

Her heart, already damaged from her sham of a marriage, squeezed painfully in her chest. She’d loved Tim once.

And thought he loved her. They’d known one another since they were children growing up in the same sprawling Irish immigrant community.

“So what happened?” She eyed him, struggling for equanimity. “It’s a long way from Druid to doctor. Or are you a nurse here?”

“Nope, I’m the doc. My training took up eight of the ten years since—” The clinic door flew open. A harried-looking, overweight woman in white scrubs rolled her eyes. Her short brown hair stood up in spikes, and her muddy green gaze shot darts. “There you are. Dr. O’Malley, you have patients.”

He waved her to silence. “Fine, Bridgette. I’ll be in soon.”

“But—” He made shooing motions with both hands. “I said I’ll be in soon.”

Bridgette screwed her face into a disapproving frown. “Whatever,” she snapped and banged the door shut.

Tim closed the few feet between them and laid his hands on Moira’s shoulders. “Can I buy you dinner? Or maybe just a cup of coffee, if you’re still mad at me and not willing to risk an entire meal.”

“I’d like that, but I’m on my way to work. See…” She took a big breath, and an annotated version of her story tumbled out. She mentioned her divorce and her lack of appetite, but skipped the low points about her marriage, figuring it wasn’t really any of Tim’s affair.

“Last time I wasn’t very hungry was right after you and I broke up. I’d just started working for the Park Service.

Unfortunately, John—that’s my boss—has a long memory.”

Tim listened until she was done talking, and then placed his stethoscope in his ears. “Take a deep breath.” He moved the bell to several locations on her chest, and then had her turn around and positioned it on her back. “Your heart sounds healthy to me.” He gripped her wrist, taking her pulse as he ran his gaze over her body in a familiar way that tightened her throat and made her belly clench with heat.

“What do you weigh?” He eyed her again. “Maybe one thirty?”

Moira nodded. No point in lying since he could drag her inside and plunk her on a scale. “One twenty-two.”

“It could be worse. Have you had issues with anorexia since—” color blotched his cheeks “—well, since us?”

Moira shook her head. “I’ve maybe lost ten pounds this time round.” She looked away. “The problem was a whole lot worse ten years ago.”

“Moira.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I’m sorry. Scarcely a day goes by—” “Don’t.” The word tore out of her. “Just don’t. I have to get to work. I’d never have stopped, except John insisted.”

He stepped back a pace and nodded. “You should be fine, so long as you start eating again. What is it your boss needs?”

“A phone call, I think.”

“Not a fitness for duty statement?”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing so formal.”

Not yet anyway.

“Good, because that would require a real physical and some labs. Jot his number down for me.” He pulled a small notebook out of a pocket and handed it to her, along with a pen.

As she gave it back, he caught her hand in his. “I’ve thought about you so many times over the years. I guess I always believed—” The color in his face deepened. “When will you be back through Bishop so we can talk? Or better yet, I’ve got a few days off after today’s clinic. I could backpack with you. Meet you wherever you’re—” “Uh-uh.” She shook her head. “It’s against regulations to bring civilians, other than the trail crew, on Park Service work projects.”

His blue eyes twinkled. She’d forgotten how intense they were, like a multihued ocean. “You told me you were heading over Baxter Pass.”

“Yeah.” She smiled back because she couldn’t help herself. “So I did. I’m also telling you not to follow me.”

He bent his head, and brushed his lips over hers. The kiss was so sweet and so fleeting, memories flooded her, and she pulled away, her heart doing flip-flops.

“If it won’t be different this time, don’t start.” Her voice held a thin, strained note.

“Things will be different. I would’ve called you. Almost did a hundred times, but I felt so rotten about—” “Dr. O’Malley.” Bridgette clumped across the yard and grabbed his arm. “You have patients.”

He shook her off. “When have you ever known me to leave before I’ve seen each and every one of them?”

“Never.” She sounded sullen.

“And it won’t happen today, either. Get back inside, and hold down the fort. If you could take vitals on everyone it would be a big help.”

Bridgette’s gaze moved from Tim to Moira. Pursing her lips in an unpleasant expression, she stalked back into the clinic.

Tim turned to Moira. “It was wonderful to see you again. Here.” He scribbled something on one of the tiny sheets of notebook paper, tore it off, and handed it to her. “My cell. Call anytime.”

“I just may take you up on that.” **** Tim wasn’t ready to go back into the clinic. His emotions were too close to the surface. He watched Moira’s truck drive out of the parking lot heading south. The last time he’d seen her ate at him like an out-of-control cancer. They’d spent hours in his apartment arguing. Though he’d dissected it a hundred times, trying to figure out what he could’ve done differently, he’d never come up with anything useful.

He made a strong effort to stuff the memory into its subterranean hidey-hole, but it wouldn’t cooperate. Since the professional objectivity he’d need to face a waiting room full of patients had just scattered like so much dust, he set off at a brisk pace intending to circle the block. He knew from experience that once that particular memory surfaced, he had to let it play itself out.

Bridgette and the clinic would just have to give him a few minutes more.

“I tell you I’m done. Not just done. Fucking done.”

Tears streamed down Moira’s swollen, blotchy face.

“I’ve waited for you since I was sixteen years old, Tim O’Malley. That’s six years in case you can’t count. I didn’t expect much back then, but we’re nearly done with college. You won’t do any more than kiss me. You won’t live with me.

You won’t talk about getting married. Fuck! Why am I even bothering?”

She jumped to her feet and ran to a window, gripping the sill hard enough to whiten her knuckles.

He grabbed her arm. “I—I do love you, Moira. I’ve told you I want to save sex until after we’re married.”

“Well I don’t. Besides, you never asked me to marry you.”

“You’re not being fair. There are things I can’t tell you.”

She whirled, her golden eyes on fire. “Fine. Keep your fucking secrets. And keep your fucking virginity. I talked with Father O’Brannigan—” A chill marched down his spine. “You what?”

“You heard me. I had to talk to someone. Even he said it wouldn’t be the end of the world if we had sex. He said God would forgive me so long as we got married. What’s the problem? Do you like boys? Jesus, even the clerk at the corner store is hotter for me than you are.”

“Mo ghrá—” “Don’t ‘mo ghrá’ me.” She twisted out of his grasp. “Get out of here. Don’t worry. I’ll be gone by the time you get back.”

“Moira—” “For the love of Christ, just leave. If you ever loved me—” Her face crumpled and she sobbed helplessly, turning away from him.

Feeling like he was being torn in two, Tim stormed out of his apartment. The minute he got to the bottom of his steps, he began to run. He loved Moira. Loved her with every fiber of his being. But he understood his duty to his Druid heritage too. Slated to be the next Arch Druid, he was forbidden physical congress with women. His magic needed to be honed to the highest possible level.

Sex would interfere.

Tim ran until sweat streamed down his sides, despite the chill of an unseasonably cool June in California. A full moon hung low, clinging to the horizon. It was a lover’s moon. He cursed, drowning in irony. A lover’s moon, but not for him.

He wasn’t surprised when he ended up ten miles north of Davis at the Druids’ priory. Despite it being three in the morning, he pulled the bell chain. Its somber chime matched his mood.

The intercom next to the carved oak door crackled. “What business brings you here?” It was a standard Druid greeting, though the speaker sounded half-asleep.

“I must see Liam. Now.” “Tim O’Malley. Is that you?”

Tim blew out a ragged breath. “Yes. Let me in, goddammit.”

A tone sounded, and the door swung open soundlessly on well-oiled hinges. A man he didn’t recognize hustled up the long hallway. “Master.” He inclined his head.

“I’m no one’s master. Go back to sleep. I know the way.”

Liam McAllister’s quarters were on the third floor of the rambling stone structure that had once been a Catholic monastery. Tim pounded up the stairs, his stomach so tight he wondered if he’d vomit. He’d just raised a fist to hammer on Liam’s door when it opened, and the Arch Druid stood before him. If the older man had been asleep, it didn’t show.

“Welcome, son.” Liam held out his arms, but Tim shook his head. Without waiting for an invitation, he stomped into the spacious quarters lined with leaded glass windows on two walls. The moon mocked him, front and center in those windows.

“You have to release me from my vows.”

Liam drew his thick eyebrows together. “You must know I cannot do that. You didn’t take vows. You were born to your calling.”

Tim spun to face the man who’d been like a father to him. Long, white hair framed his bearded face. Bright blue eyes radiated concern. The Arch Druid was tall—of a height with Tim—and wraith-thin. Black robes flowed around him.

“But it’s not like I’m the Dalai Lama.” He took a breath to steady himself. “You don’t understand. I love Moira.

It’s tearing me up that I can’t have her. Christ! I can’t even tell her why I can’t make love to her—or marry her.”

Liam nodded slowly. He reached a kindly hand toward Tim. “Actually, you are a lot like the Dalai Lama. ’Tis the goddess who picks our progression. Would you care to sit, son? I believe a spot of spirits might calm you.”

“Irish whiskey won’t solve this.”

Liam made a snorting noise. “A dram of good Irish whiskey will solve practically anything. Or at least soften it till it feels more manageable.”

He pulled a decanter close and poured amber liquid into two cut-crystal shot glasses, pushing one toward Tim. “You will be able to wed once your training is complete, and you sit in my place.”

Battling frustration, Tim drained his glass. The whiskey burned going down. It matched the fire in his soul.

He trained his gaze on Liam. “You don’t understand. That may have worked hundreds of years ago. Not anymore.

Look at you. Goddess willing, you’ll live another twenty or thirty years. Maybe more. By then Moira will be long since married to another. Hell, she could be a grandmother.” He banged a fist on one of the tables scattered about the room.

A lamp rattled ominously, and he reached to steady it.

“Please,” Tim begged. “At least let me tell her why I can’t wed her.”

Liam shook his head. “I cannot do that. The workings of our society have always been secret. ’Tis how we’ve shielded ourselves from the machinations of the Church.”

“The Church isn’t still out to get us. Not actively, anyway.”

Liam turned on him, blue eyes ablaze. “Thinking like that will land you in trouble. Have you not followed their exorcisms? Or their dogma? And ’tis not just the Catholics I’m talking of here. What do you believe clerics think of those like us who call magic, engage in astral travel, and commune with gods, spirits, and the dead?”

Tim’s shoulders sagged. He felt like a sail with the wind knocked out of it, attached to a ship that would never find port. “That we were evil.”

Liam nodded. “Organized religion’s raison d’être is to rid the Earth of wickedness. Moira is Catholic. She goes to confession. I tell you, son, we cannot risk it. ’Tisn’t been so very long since they killed one of us. Surely you recall Sean Newbry. ’Twas scarcely an accidental drowning. His astral self came to me whilst he was dying.”

“And?” “The parish priest caught him in the midst of a blood offering ceremony, talking with Earth spirits. Sean was certain the cleric followed him since he’d taken care to go deep into the Sierra foothills.”

Tim fought a sinking feeling. “You said drowning.”

“Are you certain you want the grisly details?”

“Yes.” “Four priests waylaid him late one night, bound him, gagged him, tied a heavy weight about his waist—” “Enough.” Tim sat heavily. He dropped his head into his hands and remembered what Moira told him about talking with Father O’Brannigan. What a fucked up mess this had turned into. He still cared about Druidry, but did he care enough to give up Moira for the rest of his life?

“Tim?” Liam asked after a long silence.

He looked up. “No matter how I slice and dice this, I don’t want to live without her. Hell, I don’t know if I can.”

“I understand.” A considered intake of breath and Liam continued. “I gave you permission to attend medical school. That was a concession as I’d rather you were here by my side. Then you came up with that idea about a public health degree.

“Mayhap it would be best if you didn’t see Moira—or even call her—at least for a while. Try to immerse yourself in your studies. Believe me, son, when I tell you the goddess takes care of her own.”

A sob rose from the depths of his soul. Mortified, Tim tried to swallow the next one down. He stuffed a knuckle in his mouth and bit down hard. “’Tis all right. Life does not give us easy choices.” Liam got to his feed, walked around the table, and patted Tim’s back. “There is no shame in tears.”

Forcing himself to return to the present, Tim took a deep breath, and then another. He wasn’t twenty-two anymore.

He could stand up to Liam if it came down to it. He pulled open the side door to the clinic and went to the tiny staff room, where he knew he’d find the afternoon’s schedule posted. Despite reliving painful memories, he felt more alive than he had in years.

The goddess had brought Moira back into his life. Things would be different this time. He’d see to it, even if it meant confronting Liam and walking away from Druidry forever.

About the Author: I'm basically a mountaineer at heart. I remember many hours at my desk where my body may have been stuck inside four walls, but my soul was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry.

Around the turn of the last century (that would be 2000, not 1900!), I finagled a move to the Eastern Sierra, a mecca for those in love with the mountains. Stories always ran around in my head on backcountry trips, sometimes as a hedge against abject terror when challenging conditions made me fear for my life, sometimes for company.

Eventually, the inevitable happened. I returned from a trip and sat down at the computer. Three months later, a five hundred page novel emerged. It wasn’t very good, but it was a beginning. I learned a lot between writing that novel and its sequel, and I've been writing ever since.

In addition to turning out books, I enjoy wilderness photography. A standing joke is that over ten percent of my pack weight is camera gear, which means my very tolerant husband has to carry the food -- and everything else too.

Tell us about the role of women in your writing.

They’re strong. This is particularly true for Lea and Nieve, the two heroines of DIVIDE AND CONQUER. They’re happy to accept help, but are perfectly capable of beating the odds by themselves.

What makes DIVIDE AND CONQUER different from other books?

Many books rely on a main female character and a male character working together. The importance of female friendship often falls by the wayside. I wanted to create a book with an ambitious plot that celebrates women and their friendships. Think Lethal Weapon, or any other buddy movie, but with women, magic and a chain-smoking gargoyle.

Who are Lea and Nieve?

Lea is a physics geek who searches for meaning. She starts out as a newbie to all things magic, but proves herself to be resilient and stubborn. Nieve is a tough warrior, but over the course of the book her softer side comes through, helped along both by Lea and by a man she wishes she didn’t have feelings for.

So, what about romance?

Neither Lea nor Nieve have had typical high school experiences so their romantic entanglements throw both for a loop. Lea is too cerebral to simply fall for a guy, or at least she thought she was until she meets a certain someone. Swept away by her first real crush, she must find a way to balance who she is with who she wants to be. If anything, Nieve is even worse off. She’s a warrior, and the men she knows are put off by strong woman. The one guy who isn’t might just be the last man Nieve wants to get involved with.

Do you have a close best friend?

No. Even though most of my life my best friends were male, for a few years I did have a best female friend called Kim. She moved away from my home town when I was about thirteen and we kept in touch until we went off to college. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since. As you get older, making close

friendships gets tougher. You end up with many good friends, but this one meaningful other who is willing to accept you for who you are is a rare beast to find.

Divide and Conquer Champions of Elonia Book 1 Carmen Fox Genre: Urban Fantasy with romance elements Publisher: Champagne Books Date of Publication: March 2, 2015 ISBN: 978-1-77155-175-5 ASIN: B00U0W2BIM Number of pages: 377 print pages Word Count: 97k Cover Artist: Ellie Smith Book Description: Two women. One prophecy. Zero places to hide.

Flung from her mundane Seattle existence into a world of magic, scientist Lea struggles to make sense of a destiny she doesn’t want. The moment she finds comfort in the arms of a man who appreciates her inner nerd, a new magic sweeps the realms.

Nieve, Lea’s instructor, may be seasoned in the art of war, but she’s clueless when it comes to romance.

To save her world, she allies herself with her enemy, a kindred warrior soul, who leaves no doubt he’s after more than her cooperation.

As each tick of the clock swallows another person’s memory, Lea and Nieve will do anything to hang on to theirs, but betrayal drives a wedge in their friendship. Can they reconcile and rally the troops before the magic wipes out their pasts?

Video Trailer: http://youtu.be/jLmIiCumCQE Amazon

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"Urban Fantasy doesn't get better than DIVIDE & CONQUER. Action, excitement, and 2 kick-ass heroines to root for fill this rich, complex and dynamic world. Carmen Fox does not disappoint!" ~National & USA Today Bestselling author Anna J Stewart

Excerpt: NIEVE I dropped my magical defenses, allowing my luster to envelop me in a powerful light. Without the sun’s ready supply of energy, that meant using some of my precious resources.

“Holy crap.” Lea jumped out of her bed and squeezed against the far wall of the room.

Finally, some reaction. “It’s called luster.” I twirled to prove I wasn’t hiding a flashlight behind my back. “It’s a by-product of an Elonian’s affinity with light. Anyone sensitive to magic can see it unless I suppress it.”

In my mind, rows of thick bricks piled one on top of another around me, extinguishing my luster.

“A-are you an angel?” Her airless voice barely traveled the distance between us.

I kinked back my head and laughed. “Definitely not.”

She unglued herself from the wall and took a few steps toward her bed. “You said I’m an Elonian. Why don’t I shine?”

“You can’t see your own luster, but it’s there. Without the training to suppress it, you’re a living flame to the Shades. It’s the reason they call us Sparks. It’s also how they’ll identify you. You know, before they kill you.”

Lea picked up a sweater from the floor. Her focus went distant, no longer in this world.

Something I’d said must have triggered a switch in her brain. Not a day too soon.

I trotted to the corner by the window and picked a collection of stuffed animals off the armchair.

From the deep V between Lea’s brows, I concluded her thought processes weren't going anywhere fast.

Once the toys occupied the windowsill, neatly arranged by height, I sat.

With her dark lashes, a tiny nose and a sprinkling of freckles, she looked so young and so…Kindred. Unexpected sadness ripped through my chest. The misery pressed onto my diaphragm, making me feel like I was an evil monster come to chop up her innocence like next week’s firewood.

Even though she was predicted to be my ally through the dark days, she was still a total stranger.

Yet her pale, elfin face stirred something in me, some glimmer of recognition, of familiarity even. My childhood friend Belinda had a similar innocence about her. She’d chew the end of her pen for hours while pondering her words. Her poems were meant to bring joy to a war-torn land. They burned with her when Galleo invaded her village.

Lea would not share Belinda’s fate. I’d see to that. By the end of her training, she’d be able to take on a whole battalion of Shades by herself. I squinted at her short stature and took a sobering breath. If not a battalion, then a group of ten.

About the Author: Carmen Fox is an Amazon no. 1 bestselling author in the vampire and werewolf mystery categories for her book Guarded (The Silverton Chronicles). Guarded was also the Amazon no. 1 urban fantasy novel in Australia.

She lives in the south of England with her beloved tea maker and a stuffed sheep called Fergus. An avid reader since childhood, she caught the writing bug when her Nana asked her to write a story.

She also has a law degree, studied physics for a few years, dabbled in marketing and human resources, and speaks nativelevel German and fluent Geek. Her preferred niches of geekdom are tabletop games, comics, sci-fi and fantasy.

Website: http://www.carmen-fox.com Twitter: @authorcarmenfox Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Divide-and-Conquer/557838687668817 Book page: www.carmen-fox.com/dac Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25032954-divide-and-conquer

What inspired you to become an author?

My high school English teacher, Mr. Stewart. He had a prostatic leg, which was fun when tapped his pencil on it.

In his class we read the Iliad and the Odyssey, were my intro to mythology began. Later I applied for his journalism class, and from there became the features reporter, and the next year, features editor.

After my first semester as an intern at a local newspaper, I realized I hated journalism. Like—hated it. I just didn’t like writing what other people told me to. I wanted to write what I thought was interesting, and I didn’t want such a strict word count limit on what I wrote. That’s when I realized I wasn’t cut out for writing news, and instead would write fiction.

Do you have a specific writing style?

I love to write detail and visceral reactions. I want to insert the reader into the scene and bring them along for the ride, right along with my characters. Texture, the temperature of the air, and any assault of their senses—I want my readers to feel every page.

Do you write in different genres?

I sure do. I started with young adult paranormal romance, then branched into new adult contemporary romance, and I also write young adult inspirational. My inspirational will debut February 2016 with Limitless Publishing, and that will be published under Theresa Mae. Is the book, characters, or any scenes based on a true-life experience, someone you know, or events in your own life?

Not in my paranormal books, but my new adult contemporary, THE EDGE OF YOU, is set on Kodiak Island, Alaska, where I lived for seven years. I miss it in the summer. Writing that book was like going back home, which was both fun and emotional at the same time.

Of all the characters you’ve ever written, who is your favorite and why?

Oh wow. That’s tough. I really love Arwan from The Stone Legacy Series because for me, a hero has to be a certain breed of man. He has to be strong yet respectful—determined, yet willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. I don’t write asshat heroes. I can’t. I just can’t.

Here’s an excerpt from Lights of Aurora, book three of The Stone Legacy Series, that best describes Arwan.

She really was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Long, dark hair and full lips. Wolf-gray eyes. Like some kind of dream made into reality as a reward for some noble conquest he’d never completed. Cualli may be a goddess, but even she paled in comparison to Zanya’s bravery, humor, and beauty. For the rest of his days he would compare every woman to her, and for the rest of his days he’d live unsatisfied and lonely.

“I’d choose someone who would do anything to make you happy. Someone who would wake up and ask himself how he was going to make you smile. Someone who would listen to you. Find the things you love the most and surround you with them. Understand your heartache— no, take it away. And when he can’t make it vanish, wish it were his own to bear.” Arwan’s eyebrows knitted together. “Someone who would walk beside you with a firm hold but a gentle touch. A man who was always there, but never drowned you in his own pride.”

A tear streaked down Zanya’s cheek.

Arwan reached out and wiped it away. His fingers lingered on her skin for a moment, and he pulled back. “But Jayden does care for you, and in some ways, he is better for you. Riyata are enlightened. He can give you things I can’t. A long, happy life, both here and in the hereafter.”

If this book is part of a series…what is the next book? Any details you can share?

Yes. The Stone Legacy Series is a five-book young adult paranormal romance series based on Mayan mythology. All five books will be released by April 19th, 2016. Books 1-3 will be out by the end of January. February has a release, and then another in April. So watch out because you won’t have to wait a year to read it to the end.

Can you share a little of your current work with us?

Sure! Like I said, my big release is the five-book paranormal romance series—The Stone Legacy Series.

Book 1 is Mayan Blood.

Book 2 is Interlude Book 3 is Lights of Aurora Book 4 is Anarchy Book 5 is Birthright

There is also a surprise prequel I can’t wait to share with you guys titled ISHEL. But my publisher won’t be revealing that right away. What I can say is it will have a ton of bonus material in the back that you don’t want to miss out on.

Who designed the cover of your latest book?

BIG shout out to the Deranged Doctor Designs. They have done an AMAZING job at capturing the feel of my series, showing off the Mayan mythology, all while keeping enough mystery to not give it all away. If you need a cover done, they are well worth the investment. Check them out here: http://www.derangeddoctordesign.com Do you have any advice for other writers?

I always refer aspiring authors to Caro Clarke articles. She has a ton of great advice, which was immensely helpful for me in the beginning. Check those out here: http://www.caroclarke.com/writing.html Also look into GMC—Goals, Motivation, Conflict. That is a great character development book. TIP: Buy it straight from the author’s website. It’s like a billion dollars on Amazon.

After that, just finish the book. Start with a short story and work your way up. Give yourself permission to write crap because you can edit crap. You can’t edit a blank page.

What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?

I’m an Alaskan, hijab-wearing feminist with a micro dermal piercing who writes paranormal novels and is a sarcastic extrovert. I’m a walking oxymoron on paper, but when you meet me, you get it.

What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress?

Besides the slew of young adult paranormal romance books, I do also have an inspirational release under Theresa Mae in February titled, IF ALL ELSE FAILS. It’s a great fiction book based on an agnostic teen, who learns about the Islamic faith through a girl in her World Religion class. My editor called it one of her favorite edits of all time.

Stone Legacy Series Overview Genre: Mature YA Their empires have fallen, but their mythology lives on…

Zanya Coreandero is a seventeen-year-old orphan with only a single friend and no hope for a normal life. The only home she’s ever known is the isolated institution—where breakfast is a handful of medications, the psychiatry sessions are mandatory, and her every move is watched.

When Zanya is kidnapped, she meets a group of gifted Mayan descendants, each with a unique ability. Gone from a nameless castaway to the only hope of mankind, Zanya is forced to make a grueling decision: bond with an enchanted stone and save humanity from rising underworld forces, or watch helplessly as Earth falls victim to a familiar dark deity from her dreams. This time, he’s playing for keeps.

A wicked secret hides behind a handsome face…

When Arwan, a dark-eyed timebender, takes interest in Zanya's mission, it's unclear if his intention is to help, or if he's on a hell-bent mission for revenge. Wary of falling for another guy with major secrets and a tainted past, Zanya fights to keep her distance. If only her heart gave her a choice.

With the approach of an ancient bonding ceremony, Zanya struggles to control her abilities—and her desires.

As the winter solstice approaches, it brings an onslaught of unexpected side effects. While Zanya battles to seize control over her supercharged powers, she must also face an overwhelming suspicion that her new boyfriend, Arwan, is hiding a secret so dark it could destroy them both. And with her powers finally taking root, pacing their relationship becomes even more of a challenge.

Just when she thought life couldn’t get more complicated…

With the arrival of a surprise houseguest, Zanya’s deepest fears about Arwan are confirmed. And when middleworld deities intercede, the group of gifted Maya descendants are confronted with hardships they never saw coming—including an enemy more deadly than they have ever faced.

When the heavens, middleworld, and underworld collide, an epic battle for power threatens the existence of mankind.

Their survival rests in the hands of Zanya and her new, enchanted family. But when a final secret turns her world upside down, her stone, family, and future aren’t the only things she’s destined to protect.

Mayan Blood Stone Legacy Book One Theresa DaLayne Their empires have fallen, but their mythology lives on…

Zanya Coreandero is a seventeen-year-old orphan with only a single friend and no hope for a normal life. Diagnosed with anxiety and night terrors, no one believes her cuts and bruises are a result of an evil entity, and not a brutal case of self-harm.

With the only home she’s ever known being the isolated institution—where

breakfast is a handful of medications, the psychiatry sessions are mandatory, and her every move is watched—the only relief is her red-haired roommate named Tara, who’s more like a little sister than her best friend.

Free will is strong, but destiny is stronger.

When Zanya is kidnapped, she meets a group of gifted Mayan descendants, each with a unique ability.

Gone from a nameless castaway to the only hope of mankind, Zanya is forced to make a grueling decision: bond with an enchanted stone and save humanity from rising underworld forces, or watch helplessly as Earth falls victim to a familiar dark deity from her dreams. This time, he’s playing for keeps.

A wicked secret hides behind a handsome face…

When Arwan, a dark-eyed timebender, takes interest in Zanya's mission, it's unclear if his intention is to help, or if he's on a hell-bent mission for revenge. Wary of falling for another guy with major secrets and a tainted past, Zanya fights to keep her distance. If only her heart gave her a choice.

Goodreads Interlude Stone Legacy Book Two Theresa DaLayne Tara may have spent years in an asylum, but that doesn’t make her crazy– just fearless.

Dropped in Moscow with a the group of enchanted Mayan descendants, seventeen-year-old Tara is forced to wait on the sideline while her best friend—the Stone Guardian— battles to reclaim a friend’s soul trapped in the underworld.

It sucks being ordinary when everyone else is superhuman…

A mortal girl with a tainted past, Tara is left to deal with an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. Her boyfriend, Peter, is a healer. Her best friend is The Guardian, and everyone else is a powerhouse of awesome strengths. Meanwhile, she struggles to leave her childhood of abuse in the past, and while Peter picks her up every time she falls, it becomes clear he deserves better.

When they opened Pandora’s Box, hell came pouring out…

When she’s given a chance to aid in the group’s mission, Tara is eager to pull her own weight, even if it means uncovering buried memories of being held prisoner by the underworld general. Now haunted with flashbacks of torture, Tara wanders from the safety of Peter’s arms into a city of depravity and corruption. And amidst all this evil is a young man with an agenda of his own, who leads her down a road that will either prove she is a hero at heart, or drag her into a world she’s always feared.

He wants revenge, she wants redemption. And in an underground ring of missing girls and bloody sacrifices, only the fearless can survive…

Goodreads Lights of Aurora Stone Legacy Book Three Theresa DaLayne After living her entire life in an orphan asylum, Zanya fears she may actually be losing her mind.

Following the discovery of her ancient Maya bloodlines, eighteen-year-old Zanya Coreandero is faced with a daunting responsibility. She must protect the relic stone while Sarian, the underworld general, ceaselessly drives her to the brink of insanity.

With the approach of an ancient bonding ceremony, Zanya struggles to control her abilities—and her desires…

As the winter solstice approaches, it brings an onslaught of unexpected side effects. While Zanya struggles to seize control over her supercharged powers, she must also face an overwhelming suspicion that her boyfriend, Arwan, is hiding a secret so dark it could destroy them both. And with her powers finally taking root, the struggle to pace their relationship takes on a life of its own.

Just when she thought life couldn’t get more complicated…

With the arrival of a surprise houseguest, Zanya’s deepest fears about Arwan are confirmed. And when middleworld deities intercede, the group of gifted Maya descendants are confronted with hardships they never saw coming—including an enemy more deadly than they have ever faced.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And when that woman has no soul and a taste for revenge, they will need the powers of every surviving ancestor simply to stay alive.

Goodreads Anarchy Stone Legacy Book Four Theresa DaLayne Jayden’s heart may have stopped beating for good when he was rescued from the underworld, but it can still break…

After an ancient Mayan ceremony goes horribly wrong, Jayden is left to face reality—the girl he once loved is pledged to another. At his breaking point, he steals a cab to leave behind the group of enchanted descendants, this time for good.

When Hawa—a beautiful but lethal acquaintance—decides to call shotgun, his only choice is to take her along for the ride.

He’d be glad to have the company…if it were anyone but her. He only knows her by occasionally sharing a hallway in Renato’s huge estate in Belize. It’s clear she has a perma-chip in her shoulder, and they have absolutely nothing in common. So he thinks…

With no cash and nowhere to stay, Hawa leads him into the heart of Guatemala City to an abandoned hotel of orphaned kids. As more of her tainted past is revealed, an unwelcome memory reappears in flesh and blood, threatening to break her wild spirit.

A mysterious orphan is the only one standing between him and the new queen of hell…

Modem, a spunky twelve-year-old girl with a knack for computers, seems to be keeping her eye on Jay. When his abilities go rogue and pull him back to the underworld, Modem shows she’s more than meets the eye. And as everything spirals out of control, Contessa proves no realm is out of reach…

Goodreads

About the Author: A long-time enthusiast of things that go bump in the night, Theresa began her writing career as a journalism intern—possibly the least creative writing field out there. After her first semester at a local newspaper, she washed her hands of press releases and feature articles to delve into the whimsical world of fiction.

Since then, Theresa has been married, had three terrific kids, moved to central Ohio, and has been repeatedly guilt-tripped into adopting a menagerie of animals that are now members of the family. But don’t be fooled by her domesticated appearance. Her greatest love is travel. Having traveled to over a dozen countries—not to mention an extended seven-year stay in Kodiak, Alaska—she is anything but settled down. Wherever life brings her, Theresa will continue to weave tales of adventure and love with the hope her stories will bring joy and inspiration to her readers.

Author website: http://www.theresadalayne.com FB: https://www.facebook.com/theresa.dalayne Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheresaDaLayne

Sands of Time Fate of the True Vampires Book One Christine Church Genre: Paranormal Publisher: Grey Horse Press, Createspace Date of Publication: October 26, 2015 ISBN: 978-1518815232, ASIN: B0187LY2P2 Number of pages: 90 Word Count: 26,000 Cover Artist: Christine Church Book Description: The main character in this first installment is Kesi (later known as Kesi Akhede, as in ancient Egypt they really had no last names). Kesi is a hybrid; half human and half "Pet Mer," a term used for her father's people who are from another place after theirs was destroyed.

She appears a delusive Goddess. She is ageless. But what she wants most is family. Unable to bear children through her own body, and after the death of her husband, she travels the world searching for a way to "create" a child (later known as “Vampyr�). She offers aid to those who need her. But, her deep desire to have a family of her own is never met until she comes across an alchemist by the name of Yin. Taking what she needs and leaving behind chaos, Kesi continues to run, to search, and to hope. Her everlasting quest takes her through history, from one continent to the next; from her home in Egypt, to China, Scotland, Rome, and finally France.

Read the journals to hear her story, learn about the truth behind the "myth" of what humans call the vampire, read about her unique take on her species and those they create, and discover the chaos and bloodshed caused by a man determined to put an end to vampires forever.

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/baJuy-Q4mak

Amazon BN Amazon UK Book Depository IndieBound Goodreads Abe Books Alibris Google Books Excerpt: “Queen of the Nile” Entries found on Papyrus sealed and preserved within a tomb in Egypt Circa 20th Dynasty English Translation, 1958 Believed to be written by Kesi, who lived in a village near Giza, and is later known as Kesi Akhede.

Wind over the desert creates a sandstorm that has left all in ruin. The days of old. Eras long past. Will he believe that I existed long ago and was dubbed "The Nile’s Graceful Queen" by pharaohs and kings? Will he believe that, to Amenhotep I in the eighteenth dynasty, I was viewed as an "exquisite work of art?"

I pray now. Not to the gods the desert people bow to, but to my ancestors and my family. I pray that he will understand what it is I must tell him. Who I am. Where I come from. And where I must go.

I think about the time that has passed so quickly. My heart swells with love for my family, for the desert so cruel yet forgiving, the people, and most of all for Jabari.

Life was once simple yet elegant and my people worshiped. When I was young, I heard say that all of the gods had blessed me with a part of themselves. The grace of Bast, the eyes of Horus, the wisdom of Thoth, and even the cruelties of Seth made me who I am. Perhaps this is true still. And yet I remain as I always have and life around me continues to weave its gradual yet inevitable web anew.

Now, the sands of the Sahara have drifted, propelling the destiny of the Pet Mer in a new direction, forcing me to choose, to make the most difficult decision of my life. A decision on which I have procrastinated for too long. A decision, I know, I must make on this night. And so, I prepare my journey with a questionable destination.

About the Author: Christine began writing at the age of nine, penning and illustrating picture books, taping them together, and even creating a publishing company. In school, she could be found sitting in the back of the class, writing short stories (she aced English and literature). By 1992 she was professionally published in both nonfiction and short stories. In 1998 her book was traditionally published, which led to many more book deals (nonfiction).

Her books and articles have won many awards. She lives for the paranormal, writes in the deep dark night and has a closet full of Goth clothing rarely worn any longer. By day she works at a horse barn caring for 7 horses, including her own noble steed--her best friend, her “son.” She is a professional photographer, actress, and voiceover artist as well. In rare spare time, she loves riding, archery, swimming, singing and auditioning for “Survivor.”

Halloween in New Orleans, where anything can happen including love and magick.

Eternal Desire Roxanne Rhoads Publisher: Bewitching Books Release Date: April 14, 2015 (2 edition) ASIN: B00VWIQGFM Paranormal researcher Liz Beth's dreams are haunted by a sensual vampire.

She arrives in New Orleans the week of Halloween in search of her elusive dream lover, but instead finds a handsome stranger.

They begin a passionate affair. Soon she is torn between dreams and reality, lost somewhere in the middle trying to regain reason.

She aches to find the vampire of her dreams but can't seem to break free of the spell her sexy stranger has her tangled in.

Eternal Desire is available at the following ebook retailers Amazon iTunes Scribd Inktera Kobo Nook

LizBeth and Christien are back in Haunting Desire, Book Two in the Desire Series.

Haunting Desire Desire Series Book Two Roxanne Rhoads Genre: Paranormal Erotica Publisher: Bewitching Books Release Date: February 5, 2016 Book Description: Welcome to the Inn of Amorous Apparitions where your every libidinous longing can be fulfilled by sensual spirits.

LizBeth has been hired to use her ghost whispering skills on the specters at the Castle Inn, but instead of banishing the seductive spooks Barbara, the Inn Keeper, wants them to "come out and play" with her special guests.

The Castle Inn is set to become the destination for the ghost sex fetish crowd. But first LizBeth has to convince the voluptuous visions that it is alright to participate in spectrophilia fun with the guests.

LizBeth has a special talent for seeing and communicating with ghosts but these enchanting ethereals are not cooperating with her, or her vampire boyfriend, Christien.

Something odd is fueling the raunchy wraiths and they have to discover the power source or risk leaving a customer unsatisfied.

But there's more to this haunting than the average ghost. Will LizBeth and Christien be able uncover the mystery of this sexy haunted mansion?

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