November 2014 Bewitching Book Tours Magazine

Bewitching Book Tours Magazine Issue 29 November 2014

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 2014 Stock images from www.123rf.com

Contents Rules for Magical World Barbara Bretton Feature 6 Favorite Vampy Heroines In Your Dreams Feature Clarabelle’s Custom Creations Frozen Homemade Apple Crisp Witches Who Stich Create a Waste Free Christmas Interview: Leone Rogers Cover Reveal: Blood Slave House of Belle Press Vampire in Paradise Feature Green Living Tips No Bake Pumpkin Pie Sinner Repent Feature Of Sentimental Value How Self-Publishing is Keeping Reading Alive Santa for Hire Sceadu Undead Obsession Remnants Feature Naughty Nook Paranormal Worlds and Secret Societies Pin Up Files

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Rules for Magical Worlds Lee Roland

The curious mind of a creative writer determines the rules when he or she builds a magical world, and sets the stage for larger than life characters to act out their stories.

The most exciting and enchanting things happen, though, when someone breaks the rules. What if a witch grew sharp teeth and started sucking blood? Or a furry and fanged werewolf dressed in a suit and went shopping at the mall? What if a demon started cuddling, feeding and adopting stray kittens?

In some instances, the rules for a magic world are clearly stated. Take Melian Devlin, witch-heroine in Casual Curses and Meticulous Magic. She’s trying to explain magic to her soon to be lover Titus Moran. Titus has no idea of the wild enchanting world she’s about to dump on him.

“First and biggest rule, don’t use magic to hurt non-witches. Regular people like you and your mom have no defense against it.” Mel lowered her eyes. “Magic can kill. We can only use it for self-defense or survival.

“Second rule? We’re not supposed to use magic to gain personal wealth. That draws too much attention. We live secret lives—for good reason. History will tell you that. Witches have always been on the ‘somebody get a rope’ or ‘let’s build a nice big fire’ list.”

Melian’s problem? The bad guys keep breaking those rules and circumstances force her to take radical action.

Melian offers other rules that are a bit more oblique.

“I know. You’re going to have a bumpy ride at first. Everything is connected in magic, Tiger. Everything. Only thing that changes is the distance and angle.”

Everything is connected in magic. That’s often a big one. It’s the “figuring out” the connections drives the protagonists toward a goal.

Too often, magical rules are determined by television and movies. One person, after reading a scene in a book said, “Vampire bodies? But that’s not right. Vampires turn to dust when they’re staked.” The reader closed the book because it didn’t follow his version of the rules.

One question asked of magical novels, “Is it urban fantasy or paranormal romance?” More rules to deal with. It seems as if the focus of romance is the love story and saving the world is an afterthought. Urban fantasy saves the world first, and sometimes people fall in love. Both genres are great, but some readers feel the need to slap a specific label on a novel and put it in its place.

If a reader approaches each novel with an open mind and allows the writer to develop their world and guide the protagonists through the maze, that book can reward the reader with all the creative energy the writer can offer. That’s what it’s all about. The reward. Forget the rules and enjoy the story.

Casual Curses and Meticulous Magic The Gramarye Series Book I Lee Roland Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance Publisher: Highland Press Date of Publication: September 24, 2014 ISBN: 978-0-9916439-2-9 ASIN: B00NOZCUB0.

Number of pages: 292 Word Count: 92,000 Cover Artist: Iris Hunter Book Description: What happens when a dysfunctional witch and a tough PI work together to save an aging apartment house filled with ghosts, dragons and one oversexed house plant?

Spirits, spells and mayhem…Magic rises in the Gramarye Melian Devlin is a witch who often resorts to exotic and slightly illegal methods of acquiring money to maintain the 300-year-old Gramarye, the stone apartment house that’s her heart and home. Her life is a series of skirmishes that occasionally end with her behind bars.

Titus Moran is a no-nonsense PI who makes big bucks busting insurance fraud schemes. So how did he wind up in a tortuous battle to keep Melian out of jail? Did the delightful young witch with her gray eyes and magic at her fingertips enchant him—or does the Gramarye hold greater mysteries.

Titus will enter a new exciting world when he joins Melian in her quest to save the Gramarye. Melian will fumble along in her usual impulsive way, leaving a trail of disasters behind her. If they’re lucky, they might survive.

Available at Amazon BN Smashwords Books A Million Chapter 1 Melian Devlin considered her arrest late Friday evening an ill omen, a portent of dire thingsto come. At the very least, it would ruin her weekend. Her bad luck had continued after her arrest when she’d found herself standing before Judge Franklin P.O. Merkle. Merkle’s exact words were, “You again?”

He’d set her bail at an obscene five thousand dollars.

Psychic readings weren’t illegal in the City of Ashburn, Florida, but selling magic potions skirted the legal line of medicine, hence her arrest. And then there was the sticky issue of not having a business license— again. Minor infractions. So why did Merkle have such a burr up his ass? Maybe because he was working late on Friday? The malicious cop with an aversion to psychics hadn’t helped either.

Standing behind bars at ten o’clock that night, listening to her Great Uncle Will royally chew her butt, confirmed Mel’s dismal assessment of the situation.

“Psychic?” Will’s deep voice rumbled the word. His tired eyes watched her from a weather worn face. “Mel, honey, you ain’t no psychic. You’re a witch. You’re supposed to use magic.”

He shook his head. “I understand why you can’t get a regular job, but can’t you find something irregular you’re good at? Or at least something legal?”

He glanced over his shoulder and pitched his voice lower. “You should’ve marked a cop soon as he walked in the door, then spelled him out of making an arrest. You’re allowed basic self-defense. I taught you that.”

Mel winced at Uncle Will’s words. He had taught her. She was simply incredibly incompetent at casting spells and making potions, and utterly terrified of making a mistake. What if she hurt someone? Pretending to be a psychic and selling a few harmless herbal elixirs was easier—and safer.

They’d put her in a simple holding cell inside the precinct station after she’d seen the judge. The arrangement gave detainees a chance to post bail before they moved them to the main jail downtown, something Mel had hoped to avoid. Prospects didn’t look good.

The sparse cell had a single bench bolted to the floor and air filled with the odor of acrid, nose-searing bleach. Her cellmates, two tough prostitutes, sat on the bench staring straight at the wall. Imperfect witch she might be, but she could still deal with the bullying they tried when she first came in.

“Will, please,” Mel begged. “Go talk to Milo for me. Give him an IOU. I’ll get the money some way.” Milo the Bail Bondsman, her father’s second cousin, usually handled her bail. Milo hadn’t returned any of her numerous calls.

“Yeah. Sure.” Will laughed, but it didn’t sound funny. “Gettin’ money some way is what landed you here. I can hear Milo now. Cousin Melian? She told my Granny Panopoulos to put all her money on a horse named Show-Too in the third race and—” “I told her thirty dollars to show on the number three horse, not… Oh, hell.” She wrapped her hands around the bars to steady herself.

Granny Panopoulos had cried to Mel about not being able to pay her mortgage and buy food in the same month. She figured Granny could lose thirty dollars and learn an excellent lesson about the futility of

gambling. How was Mel to know the woman had fifty thousand dollars tucked in her mattress and a persistent bookie looking over her shoulder? Oh, right, she was supposed to be a psychic.

“Okay, girl, here’s the deal.” Will shoved his hands in his pockets like he always did when he had to deliver bad news. “I’ll get you out on Monday—” “Monday?”

“Yep. I’m not going to call Milo on a Friday evening or ruin his weekend. And I don’t trust anyone else.” Will’s head bobbed. His sorrowful expression tore at her. His eyes remained bright and his minddagger sharp, but time had worn his aging body. He loved her, and she shouldn’t have troubled him.

“Ya’ know Mel...” He sighed. “Honey, you’re twenty-seven years old. Couple of days and nights in jail won’t hurt. ‘Bout time you learned a lesson. Past time, in fact. While you’re there, think about having to stay longer, what might happen then.” He turned and shuffled out of the room.

Mel leaned her forehead against the cold hard bars. What a stinking mess. She wasn’t a true psychic, but the power, the magic she lived by, occasionally gave her glimpses into the situations surrounding people. A haphazard thing she couldn’t control, but between it and the potions, she made a little money—as long as some cop with an attitude didn’t arrest her.

Mel had paid little attention when the nervous young man with dark, curly hair entered her low-rent storefront room four hours ago. He had a sweet, shy smile and almost pretty face. Not a hint of a cop in him. He paid her forty dollars for a reading and asked her if he would ever find true love. His precise words.

“True love.” That alone should have tipped her off.

She felt sorry for him and tried to sell him a magic potion. Only a twenty-dollar mixture of Vitamin B and Ginseng, but with the power of suggestion, it might be enough to adjust his outlook on life. He was far too good-natured and attractive to be alone. Then his partner had charged in and gleefully busted her. It didn’t take much to make some cops happy.

About the Author: Lee Roland is a full time writer who lives in North Central Florida. She loves the peaceful rural area where she shares a home with three small dogs who think they are pit bulls and an evil cat with sharp claws.

Lee writes stories of urban fantasy and paranormal ro-

mance where strong men and women battle the wickedness hiding under the surface of the modern world. Her characters are passionate in life and love and are formidable enemies to the malevolent criminals in their worlds.

Her first series, the Earth Witches, was published beginning in 2011 by NAL. Her website, www.leeroland.com offers samples of the Earth Witches books and information on their world. There are short stories and news of any upcoming books and events. www.leeroland.com https://twitter.com/LeeRolandM https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lee-Roland/161582487246208 https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/321863.Lee_Roland Subscribe to mailing list: http://www.leeroland.com/about/

Post-War America: How We Lived and Loved Barbara Bretton The truth is, World War II changed everything. The moment The Bomb fell away from the Enola Gay, the Modern Age began and there was no turning back. The United States suddenly became a superpower and we began to enjoy a degree of prosperity the world had never known before.

The home front world of 1943’s SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY gave way to STRANGER IN PARADISE and the fascinating year 1953.

I’ll pause a second while you laugh. I don’t blame you. Nobody thinks of the I Like Ike 1950s as fascinating. We think conformist. We think housewives cleaning in heels and pearls. At least that’s what I thought until I began researching the era and discovered just how pivotal a year 1953 really was.

General Dwight D. Eisenhower becomes president Elizabeth II is crowned Queen of England. The ceremony is the first international even televised worldwide The first color television goes on sale for (wait for it) $1,175!

Dr. Jonas Salk develops the first polio vaccine and the world breathes easier A gallon of gas cost 20 cents The first issue of Playboy is published with Marilyn Monroe on the cover and in the centerfold Ian Fleming publishes his first James Bond novel GM produces the first Corvette Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay successfully reach the summit of Mount Everest The Korean War comes to an end as the Cold War begins to ramp up The top five movies of 1953 tell an interesting tale: 1. Peter Pan – the boy who never grew up 2. Roman Holiday – the reporter and the runaway princess 3. Shane – sometimes you can’t outrun your past 4. The Naked Spur – another western From Here to Eternity – the darker side of wartime relationships The top five songs:

1. Theme Song from Moulin Rouge – Percy Faith 2. Vaya Con Dios – Les Paul and Mary Ford 3. Doggie in the Window – Patti Page 4. I’m Walking Behind You – Eddie Fisher You, You, You – Ames Brothers We were right on the brink of the birth of rock and roll and not a minute too soon!

Life was changing at the speed of light in 1953. Not all of the changes were good but beneath the homogenized façade of suburbia change was happening and it wouldn’t be denied.

Mac Weaver and Jane Townsend, the hero and heroine of STRANGER IN PARADISE, are part of that change. Mac, a successful war correspondent, is returning to an America he barely recognizes, while Jane, an Englishwoman who survived years of war, longs to fit in with her suburban neighbors.

But will their happy ending elude them?

I hope you’ll purchase a copy and find out!

Strangers In Paradise Home Front Book Two Barbara Bretton Genre: Post -World War 2 Romance Publisher: Free Spirit Press Date of Publication: October 15, 2014 ISBN: 9781940665085 ASIN: B00MTC0RBY Number of pages: 347 Word Count: approx. 70,000 Cover Artist: Tammy Seidick Blurb/Book Description: Before they became The Greatest Generation, they were young men and women in love . . .

The year is 1953 and London is throwing the party of the century. Even though the ravages of World War II are still visible throughout the kingdom, the world is gathering on the Mall to celebrate the coronation of England's beautiful young queen.

For almost ten years, journalist Mac Weaver has been far from his New York home. America has changed since the war ended and he wonders if there's still a place for him in the land of backyard barbecues and a new Ford in every driveway.

However a chance encounter with beautiful English reporter Jane Townsend is about to change his life forever. As the new monarch waves from the window of her fairy-tale glass coach, a homesick Yank and a lonely Brit fall in love.

One week later, Mr. and Mrs. Mac Weaver board the Queen Mary for New York and a guaranteed happily ever after future in the land where dreams come true.

But there are dark shadows on the horizon that threaten Mac and Jane's happiness and family scandals that just might tear them apart . . .

"This generation of Americans has a rendezvous with destiny."

--Franklin Delano Roosevelt Available at Amazon Kobo Smashwords BN iTunes

Read a sneak peek at http://www.barbarabretton.com/sip.shtml Sentimental Journey Home Front Book One Barbara Bretton Genre: World War 2 Romance Publisher: Free Spirit Press Date of Publication: October 15, 2014 ISBN: 9781940665078 ASIN: B00MT9H93Q Number of pages: 347 Word Count: approx. 70000 Cover Artist: Tammy Seidick Book Description: Before they became The Greatest Generation, they were young men and women in love . . .

It's June 1943. From New York to California, families gather to send their sons and husbands, friends and lovers off to war. The attack on Pearl Harbor seems a long time ago as America begins to understand that their boys won't be home any time soon.

In Forest Hills, New York City, twenty-year-old Catherine Wilson knows all about waiting. She's been

in love with boy-next-door Doug Weaver since childhood, and if the war hadn't started when it did, she would be married and maybe starting a family, not sitting at the window of her girlhood bedroom, waiting for her life to begin.

But then a telegram from the War Department arrives, shattering her dreams of a life like the one her mother treasures.

Weeks drift into months as she struggles to find her way. An exchange of letters with Johnny Danza, a young soldier in her father's platoon, starts off as a patriotic gesture, but soon becomes a longdistance friendship that grows more important to her with every day that passes.

The last thing Catherine expects is to open her front door on Christmas Eve to find Johnny lying unconscious on the Wilsons' welcome mat with a heart filled with new dreams that are hers for the taking.

"This generation of Americans has a rendezvous with destiny."

--Franklin Delano Roosevelt Available at Amazon iTunes Kobo BN Smashwords Read a Sneak Peek: http://www.barbarabretton.com/sj.shtml About the Author: A full-fledged Baby Boomer, Barbara Bretton grew up in New York City during the Post-World War II 1950s with the music of the Big Bands as the soundtrack to her childhood. Her father and grandfather served in the navy during the war. Her uncles served in the army. None of them shared their stories.

But her mother, who had enjoyed a brief stint as Rosie the Riveter, brought the era to life with tales of the Home Front that were better than any fairy tale. It wasn’t until much later that Barbara learned the rest of the story about the fiancé who had been lost in the war, sending her mother down a different path that ultimately led to a second chance at love . . . and to the daughter who would one day tell a little part of that story.

There is always one book that’s very special to an author, one book or series that lives deep inside her heart. SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY and STRANGER IN PARADISE, books 1 and 2 of the Home Front series, are Barbara’s. She hopes they’ll find a place in your heart too. www.barbarabretton.com www.barbarabretton.net Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorbarbarabretton Twitter: www.twitter.com/barbarabretton Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/ Barbara_Bretton

5 Favorite Vampy Heroines by Kirsten Weiss Vivacious, vampy, vixens. I think one of the reasons I love reading (and writing) paranormals are the awesome paranormal heroines. Combining magic with their wits (and occasional superpowers), these women can kick some serious butt, especially when they’re fighting (or becoming) vampires. Here are five of my favorites.

1) Buffy. Even through her fraught high school years, there was something about this vampire-slaying heroine that made me want to cheer. Funny, brash, her emotional fragility warring with her inherent inner strength, Buffy was a true heroine of her time.

2) Sookie Stackhouse. She may not have brawn, but Sookie’s got brains. And she needs them while threading her way through the world of vampire politics. (And I like her way better in the books than in the TV series).

3) Betsy Taylor, the vampire queen. (Undead and Unwed, by Mary Janice Davidson). Waking up in the morgue would be a shock for anyone, but Betsy Taylor takes it and the vampire world in stride, making her way to the top of the undead food chain in style.

4) Samantha Moon, from JR Rain’s Vampire for Hire series. Another ass-kicking vampire chick, Samantha Moon juggles being a mother and a P.I. while dealing with her jerk ex-husband who just wants his new vampire wife to go away.

5) Milagro de los Santos, of Marta Acosta’s Casa Dracula series. Twenty-something Milagro has issues.

She dates all the wrong men, makes all the wrong choices. But we can’t really blame her when she gets turned into a vampire. Or is she something more?

Who are your favorite vampy heroines?

The Hoodoo Detective Riga Hayworth Paranormal Mysteries Book 6 Kirsten Weiss

Genre: Urban fantasy/Paranormal mystery Publisher: Misterio Press Date of Publication: October 31, 2014 ISBN: 978-0-9908864-1-9 ASIN: Number of pages: 291 Word Count: 75,000 Cover Artist: Becky Scheel Book Description: Hoodoo, haunts, and horror.

Riga Hayworth just wants to wrap up her supernatural TV series exploring the magic of New Orleans. But when she stumbles across a corpse, she becomes a police consultant on a series of occult murders, murders that quickly become all too personal.

Book six in the Riga Hayworth series of paranormal mysteries.

Available at Amazon BN Kobo About the Author: Kirsten Weiss is the author of the Riga Hayworth paranormal mystery series: The Metaphysical Detective, The Alchemical Detective, The Shamanic Detective, The Infernal Detective, and The Elemental Detective.

She’s also the author of a steampunk novel, Steam and Sensibility.

Kirsten worked overseas for nearly fourteen years, in the fringes of the former USSR and deep in the Afghan war zone. Her experiences abroad not only gave her glimpses into the darker side of human nature, but also sparked an interest in the effects of mysticism and mythology, and how both are woven into our daily lives.

Now based in San Mateo, CA, she writes paranormal mysteries, blending her experiences and imagination to create a vivid world of magic and mayhem.

Kirsten has never met a dessert she didn’t like, and her guilty pleasures are watching Ghost Whisperer reruns and drinking good wine.

You can connect with Kirsten through the social media sites below Web: http://kirstenweiss.com Blog: http://parayournormal.wordpress.com Twitter: @RigaHayworth Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/metaphysicaldetective

JOHN SWANS TOP TEN CHARACTERS IN FANTASY FICTION I love making lists, so this blog topic had me excited right off the bat. With characters, I can’t quite tell you why I love them. It’s usually not one reason, but a multitude of different things; ranging from their attitude, reactions, heart, strength. So the list I am going to compile is loosely based around these qualities, but they aren’t necessarily the defining factors. And as a side note, I’m not including any characters from the Sci-Fi genre because I feel that it would get too cluttered.

I’ve also added a little Honorable Mentions category beneath each character. This shows other noteworthy fantasy icons that are relevant to the place holder’s universe, and ones that I thought deserved a head nod.

10.

Tom Bombadil J.R.R. Tolkien The Lord of the Rings & the Adventures of Tom Bombadil

Bombadil is probably the least known on the list, and in regards to his appearance in the work in which he was featured, is definitely the least involved in the storyline. He is the omnipotent god, or demi god, (you are never quite sure), that the four hobbits encounter during their beginning journey in the Fellowship of the Ring. If you delve into his backstory throughout the Tolkien universe, you come to the conclusion he is most likely one of the Valar or Maia in his mythology, and “has always been.” The reason I love him so much, and why he makes number ten on my list, is because he is one of the most fantastical characters ever written. He embodies all aspects of fantasy as he dances through the Old Forest in his yellow attire, singing to trees and tending to the woodlands. Not to mention he is married to a water sprite named Goldberry for goodness sakes. He has not a care in the world outside of his realm, and is so powerful that the One Ring has absolutely no affect at all. So although Bombadil doesn’t have much to do with the hero’s tale in LOTR, he is nonetheless a pillar in regards to fantasy characters.

Honorable Mention: Radagast the Brown 9.

Severus Snape J.K. Rowling The Harry Potter Series

Yes, Severus made the list. And why? Because he is the best double agent in the history of high fantasy, and is the most believable. There have been a lot of double crossers, backstabbers and torn lovers, but Snape takes the cake on all of them. He is both powerful and smart, but his endless love for Lily Potter was the driving force behind all of his decisions. Even in regards to Harry, whom he hated but loved also, was all because of Lily. Never have I read a more loathsome character and been so surprised at what they ended up becoming. He was one of the most integral parts of the Potter universe, and a truly well done character. I never thought I would love someone that I hated so much, but Rowling pulled it off.

Honorable Mention: Bellatrix Lestrange 8.

Minerva McGonagall J.K. Rowling The Harry Potter Series

Number seven also hails from the Potter novels, and is one of my top female characters of all time. To put it mildly, Professor McGonagall is a force of nature. She has the wisdom and patience of a saint, the strength of ten wizards, and all wrapped into an aging woman’s body. She never waivers in her steadfastness, and although she comes off shrewd and cold in the beginning, she ends up being one of the most loved and admired characters in all the Potter universe. (Not to mention being portrayed by Dame Maggie Smith). Her characters stability and mindfulness also offsets some of the more aloof and spacy characters in Harry Potter, which is a breath of fresh air. And whether she is teaching young wizard’s transfiguration, taking down Snape and the Carrow’s alone in the great hall, or being the commander during the battle of Hogwarts, no other mature English woman has ever achieved the status in fantasy that McGonagall has.

Honorable Mention: Hagrid 7.

Aslan C.S. Lewis The Chronicles of Narnia

The lone representative of the Narnia book on my list makes it for one reason; he’s god. But before you think this is a religious rant, it is NOT. I’m not an overly religious person, but I am spiritual, and Aslan embodies that in fantasy. He is the guide, the creator, and the end supreme power in Lewis’ creation; being the most iconic character in the Narnian universe. But Lewis didn’t stray too far into his omnipotence, allowing the other characters to make their own decisions and keeping Aslan at a comfortable distance.

Honorable Mentions: Lucy, Edmund, Susan, Peter, & Reepicheep 6.

Maleficent Walt Disney Sleeping Beauty

I couldn’t justify having a list of fiction characters without a representation from the Disney universe. And why I love this character so much is because she isn’t one of the loveable lunch pail princesses. Oh no. Disney’s greatest character is the Mistress of All Evil, and is the only villain shown in film more than the protagonist. She was a force of nature before the Angelina Jolie movie, being featured in more video games and Disney mashups than you can count, but the most recent renditions of her on the big screen and the hit TV show Once Upon a Time have solidified her as a pop icon. She’s

a sorceress whose true form is a fire breathing dragon from hell, and may a swift death come to whoever crosses her path. And so the reigning Queen of Evil stands at number 6.

Honorable Mentions: Flora, Fauna, & Merriweather 5.

Harry Potter J.K. Rowling The Harry Potter Series I can’t say any more about Harry than has already been said. He took every young boy and girl who loved magic and made them believe that it not only existed, but that it was just around the corner. You weren’t traversing a strange land, you were mingling with muggles in your everyday lives, existing in our reality but hidden from view. Rowling preyed upon all of our desires for a Hagrid to come banging on our door and whisk us away to a school of magic and leaving the mundane suburbs behind. But Harry embodied what we all would strive to be: virtuous, loyal, and strong. He wasn’t afraid to die for his friends, but his fear was so believable that we felt it with him. And his awe at the discovery of his true identity, and the view of magic from such a youthful perspective was refreshing. In pop culture, he is the biggest phenomenon to make this list and no doubt will live on for ages to come.

Honorable Mentions: Hermione Granger & Ronald Weasley 4.

Frodo Baggins J.R.R. Tolkien The Lord of the Rings Ah Frodo. He makes the top five of my list because of the obvious reasons. He is probably the most genuine, lovable, realistic, and innocent of all the big heroes. To me Tolkien is the father of modern fantasy, and Frodo is a beautiful example of his ability to create iconic characters. But why we love Frodo isn’t because of his sword play or spell casting, it’s because he is the common man.

He has no powers beyond that of his faith in his friends. Well, except for moving stealthily in forests and using his size to blend in, but in the realms of fantasy that is close to none. What Frodo does is use his guile, innocence, and intellect to traverse the lands of Middle-Earth and rid it of its greatest foe; a task that almost killed him. And in the end he was prepared to die for the realm; the ultimate act of selflessness. He is the embodiment of the strength that all of us have, and that is why Frodo Baggins will be one of the most beloved fantasy characters of all time.

Honorable Mentions: Samwise Gamgee, Peregrin Took, & Meriadoc Brandybuck 3.

Lady Galadriel J.R.R. Tolkien The Lord of the Rings The Lady Galadriel comes in at number three, and is the highest ranking female character on the list. In many ways she is number one to me, but dropped to number three only due to her elusive appearances throughout Tolkien’s universe. She is the signature kind of character that readers think of in regards to strong women, (and Elves). She is ridiculously powerful, a flawless beauty, and bends for no one. Yet she still embodies that wonderful female spirit, and although a bit cold, is nurturing and understanding. She is among the elite upon Middle Earth, being sought out for advice by some of the wisest characters in all fantasy. She is the sole female presence on the White Council, and in all regards runs the show. (Even if she lets Saruman and Elrond believe they do.) But her power, and where she draws it from, is pure. She is instrumental during the war of the ring, even though it is not featured outside of the appendices, and fights the forces of Sauron valiantly. But her history extends thousands of years into the Tolkien universe and to the Land of the Valar, where

she also stood her ground against both good and evil. She is the reigning queen of fantasy and, with her solidification into pop culture due to Jackson’s movies, I have yet to see a character capable of taking her spot.

Honorable Mentions: Lord Elrond of Rivendell & Arwen Undomiel 2.

Albus Dumbledore J.K. Rowling The Harry Potter Series The top two on my list weren’t difficult, and number two follows closely to number one. Albus Dumbledore is the Merlin of our time, with wand craft, spell craft, and bubbling caldrons being just the tip of his arsenal. He is a master of magic, being both calculated and wise, and the most iconic character in the wizarding world of Harry Potter. But what makes his character the most interesting is that he’s lethal, right down to using Harry to achieve an end to Voldemort. As Snape says, he literally was raising a pig for slaughter. But that didn’t stop him, or Harry, from reaching their goal. Dumbledore was wise enough to know that if he taught Harry correctly his prodigy would understand what needed to be done. And it worked. As you might have noticed, I have a strong pull towards characters with selflessness as a part of their character. And once again, we have a person who sacrifices themselves for the greater good.

Honorable Mention: Merlin 1.

Gandalf/Mithrandir J.R.R. Tolkien The Lord of the Rings & Middle Earth Universe The head honcho, my numero uno, and holder of the coveted #1 spot on my list is Gandalf the Grey. Or it can be Gandalf the White. Or it can be Mithrandir or Olorin if you are Elven or Valar respectively. I don’t care which one you pick, but Gandalf holds the spot. He is wise, powerful, and humble beyond compare. His virtuous qualities and drive to see the end of Sauron are very direct in a world of wavering fantasy characters. Middle-Earth is riddled with different types that you aren’t quite sure of, especially in regards to his Istari brethren. Allatar & Pollando (The Blue’s) disappeared and in Tolkien lore are presumably dark sorcerers working for Sauron in the deep reaches of the south and east. Radagast the Brown is a powerful ally, but completely aloof and has forsaken the world of men.

Even Tolkien himself was questionable about whether Radagast fulfilled his purpose. (In my heart I always hoped he had.) And Saruman is one of the biggest traitors in fantasy history. But of all the five, Gandalf held true. And sorry to be blunt, but he’s a badass!

Through a masterful play of behind the scenes work he helps defeat Smaug. He challenges Sauron directly in Dol Guldur, and with the help of the White Council chases him to Mordor, where 50 years later he is instrumental in destroying him for good. And out of brute force he defeats the Balrog of Moria and slays the fire demon on the peaks of the Misty Mountains. He is also the wisest character on the list, and plays all of Middle Earth like an expertly handled game of chess. And that is just in the Hobbit/Lord of the Rings era. His true spirit is that of a Maia, a Tolkien demi-god, and in Valinor he learned lessons from the high spirits about compassion and virtue for millennia before arriving in his “earthly” form.

So in short, Gandalf is everything on the list. He is powerful, lovable, wise, playful, deadly, strong, cross, bold, smart, and unwavering. He’s not a showboat of spells and glittering wands, but an elemental wizard with a staff that wields the light of the gods. Yet the turmoil he goes through is real, and he fears for his cause. He embodies all of the great qualities you find in high fantasy heroes, and will be the/a wizarding icon in fantasy literature forever.

Honorable Mention: Aragorn, son of Arathorn, King of Gondor In Your Dreams The Aldaya Series Book One John Swan

Genre: Epic Fantasy

Date of Publication: Sept. 14, 2014

ISBN:978-0-9906555-0-3 ASIN:B00NI96DC4

Number of pages: Estimated 276 Cover Artist: Natalie Spasic

Book Description: On an ancient planet within our galaxy, a dark and fearsome terror has awoken from its long slumber. Its task is to work quietly from the unseen, spreading dissent through the vulnerable territories of the free races; weakening them for its master. By a chance meeting, it comes across a young girl in the swampy and mist choked lands of Endmoor.

Her name is Mim, and the pairing of her platinum hair and violet eyes has not been seen since the Great War 1,000 years earlier; and has attracted unwanted attention. Knowing it hunts her, Mim flees and starts on a journey that takes her far across the Great Isle of Aldaya; the only landmass that now sits above the waves.

Unbeknownst to her, she is the key to unraveling the darkness that is falling over the Great Isle; an emptiness that threatens to swallow not only Aldaya, but the Sphere as well, and all its futures to come.

Available at Amazon US Amazon UK Amazon Canada

About the Author: John Swan has been an independent fiction writer since 2003, with the Aldaya Series being his first

published work to date. During that time, he attended Southern Illinois University and graduated with two degrees, both with high honors. He has an Associates in the Sciences and a Bachelors in Meteorology and Climate sciences, with emphasis on research and written dictations.

He spent several years during school helping to open and manage a French Bistro before moving to Honolulu, HI, where he worked for the local Parks and Wildlife service and was finally able to give his writing career the full attention it needed.

His love for writing began at an early age, never passing up chances to submit his works to young writers’ forums through school and his local community. He grew up on a small farm in southern Illinois, but spent his summers in an enchanted little blue cottage on the banks of the Mississippi River. In this valley is where he wandered beneath the trees along the bluffs with his best friends, and where tales of hobbits, mages, boy wizards, enchanted wardrobes and Native American folk lore shaped his writing style and drove him to create an entire universe all his own.

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Bewitching Book Tours is now offering custom book swag creations that can be added on to tour packages or ordered separately.

We are offering 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.

Prices start at just $5.00 per keychain, purse charm, bookmark or pair of earrings.

Contact Roxanne at RoxanneRhoads@bewitchingbooktours.com for custom price quotes

Homemade Apple Crisp Shandy Jo

I absolutely love apple crisp, and usually make it via a box or buy it pre-made. For some reason I thought this was hard to make, boy was I wrong. Today I made it from scratch!!! It was super easy and all I needed was ingredients that I had in the cupboard.

Ingredients: Apples 4-6 peeled, cored, and slice (how many you use will depend on how thick you slice them) 2 to 3 tablespoons granulated sugar (depends on how sweet your apples are and how sweet you want it.

3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon couple pinches salt 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar 1/2 cup uncooked rolled oats 1/3 cup all-purpose flour 4 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces Directions: Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Lightly grease an 8-inch square pan.

Combine the apples, granulated sugar, cinnamon, and 1 pinch of the salt in a large bowl and toss to coat.

Place the apple mixture in the prepared baking dish and set aside.

Using the same bowl, mix together the brown sugar, oats, flour, and a pinch of salt until evenly combined. Blend or cut in the butter pieces until small clumps form and the butter is well incorporated.

Sprinkle the topping evenly over the apples and bake until the top is crispy and the apples are tender, about 40 to 60 minutes.

~Shandy Jo Reviewer, Book Blogger and sometimes Writer Mama Knows Books The Survivalistas

Witches Who Stitch Sophie Avett’s Sinister Stitches Dress Fitting Interview, guest-starring Jennifer Blackstream’s Princess Irina from One Bite My characters are either naked or dressed to kill. Given they’re all monsters stalking the city of New Gotham’s twisted, cracked, and cobbled streets, the criminal wardrobe is part of the job description. Rockabilly princesses, corpse brides, leather queens…my city is full of them. Where do they get their menacing threads?

There is a boutique hiding out between the fractured, narrow store-fronts lining the foggy docks. The shingles are ribbed and black. Washed, peeling paint and displays offering views into wicked leather and lace studded glam. The mannequins are ghoulish beauties stitched together from whatever was left from the last fool to cross one of the sinister witches.

Push open its shabby, frosted front door. Tiny white flakes of paint will pepper the wind like spectral dust.

The minute you set heel onto waxy polished oak floors and step into the candelabra fire-light you know…

This is where the magic happens.

Welcome to Sinister Stitches “…apparel for a wicked fairy tale.”

A spicy trinity of black magic sisters breathe star-dusted dreams to life with their gothic apparel boutique.

They are schooled in the old ways of “fabric-bending” by the Needlewitches of old. With this knowledge, they’ve created an entire line of clothing that all share the same basic design element: one-size fits all. Each garment will magically tailor itself to its wearer once worn. There might be some “twirling” required, but a vampire’s steady hand should turn every wardrobe change into a stolen moment.

Care to take a peek at what the Sinister Stitches has to offer?

Check out some of the questionnaire Jennifer Blackstream’s Princess Irina from One Bite was asked to fill out after she wandered into Sinister Stitches.

THE WITCHES WHO STITCH QUESTIONNARE Please provide the witches with your name: Princess Irina Please provide the witches with the following: Hair Color: Black Hair Length: [ ] Short and Sassy, [ ] Medium and Modern, [X] Lush and Long Eye Color: Dark Brown Skin Tone: [ ] Ghoulish, [x] Snow White, [ ] Cina-baby, [ ] Mochalicious, [ ] Dark Chocolate, [ ] Other:__________ Please provide the witches with your measurements and body-type. a.) Height: 5’9” b.) Body Type: [ ] Skeletal, [ ] Lean and Tender, [X] Lean and Tough, [ ] Ripe and Edible Do you have any extra extremities? Place an “X” to all that apply. [ ] Horns or [ ] Halo [ ] 20 ft. of Hair or More [ ] Gills and Fins or [ ] Hooves [ ] Wings (Span: ) [ ] Tail (How many: ) How many heads do you have?

Just the one on my shoulders. I leave the head collecting to my ambitious other half.

Do you have arms and legs? If so, how many?

Yes, a pair of each.

How dead are you? [x] Living, [x] Undead*, [ ] Astral Form *by marriage/bonding What is the occasion? (Ideas include: Wedding, Funeral, Sabbath, etc. Oh, and seduction is a valid occasion. The more details, the better.)

I’ve promised my husband to have a word with the leshii to see if I can’t get them to make a formal political alliance with us. We’re attending a lovely dinner with a dear friend of mine who happens to live with the leshii. Not a small gathering, but not a grandiose ball either.

What’s the occasion setting? (Beach, haunted castle, grand ball, etc.)

We’ll be visiting the leshii in their forest abode.

Will you be running for your life at some point in the evening? (Helps with shoe selection.)

It is very likely. Despite my warmth for the leshii, there is always the possibility they will not find Kirill’s single-mindedness as charming as I do.

Will you be set on fire? Better yet, will you be setting other people on fire?

No. Fire will be the least of my worries among forest dwellers such as the leshii.

Will you be grave-robbing? (Dirt is a dressmaker’s tedium.)

Definitely not. My husband has very firm feelings on the matter. If there’s any grave-robbing to be done, he can bloody well do it himself.

Is your neck a dinner plate?

Often, yes.

Do you hope to be naked at some point in the evening? (All right, dirty birds. Such questions are actually intended toward the weres and shifters in regards to their transformations.)

My body will remain in the same shape throughout the evening.

Describe your last brush with Death in two sentences. (Helps us plan for the unexpected.)

Ate a poison apple. Was locked in a glass coffin.

Do you need a secret compartment for weapons, wands, tampons, etc.?

Yes. I must be able to reach the dagger strapped to my thigh as quickly and subtly as possible. One on each side would be best, since I have not seen the seating chart.

What are your three favorite colors?

Blood, Coal, Dusk What two colors rattle your kettle?

Orange, pink Please pick a style that you feel embodies you the best. If none apply, feel free to surprise us by providing your own brilliant description in the “other” slot. [ ] Rockabilly Starlet: This is for the spoonfuls of sugar. The good-natured and naughty girl next door types.

Candy is the business and fairy tales are ultimate. More often than not, her head is in the clouds and her nose in the book. Our dreamers. [ ] Leather Queen: This is for the warrior princesses. The type of girls who give boys a run for their money and wear tight jeans just watch the little vampires come undone. Hands for fighting and these heels for asskickings. Our protectors.

[X] Medieval Mistress: This is for the no-nonsense girls. The ones who know better because they’re ten steps ahead. They’re schemers—they might be shy, or they might not be. More importantly, they’re selective. Our wisdom. [ ] Gothic Dame: This for the mysteries. The ones no one can quite make heads or tails out off. She’s a mixture, a melting pot of sugar and sinister. She might be Rockabilly Starlet one day, or a Medieval Mistress other days. Our sisters. [ ] Other: _____________________ Who is your favorite fairy tale villain?

My husband.

If you could be any fairy tale princess, who would it be?

If? Now, tell us the twit you hate most.

My stepmother. She’s dead now, so I feel better.

Anything else you’d like to add…

After many barrels of chocolate, a dash of magic and furious sewing…

Sinister Stitches’ Medieval Mistress, Astrid Dweyer presents Princess Irina’s Completed Dress “Huntsmen”

A slender vampire with miles of oil-black coils wound at her feet like a snake is seated demurely in a sweeping emerald taffeta evening dress. She uses the tip of her twisted bone wand to pull down purple tea-shades down her slender nose: I’m Astrid and I’m Sinister Stitches’ reigning Medieval Mistress. Apparently, I’m also the only one who still has any bloody sense in this godforsaken city. Honestly, I’m not sure how I got roped into this. But I digress, let’s get down to the knitty and stitchy shall we?

The dress is black because who the bloody hell treks into a forest wearing white?

The collar is low because men are impatient creatures—vampires incorrigible.

It is detailed with Trodfolk (troll) lace, frog clasp fastenings, and the bustle skirt flares from the waist in sleek waves of black Moonbane satin imported from Avalon’s glittering shores.

The swath of enchanted fabric can act as a cape, cloak and is dirt-resistant. That being said, if he simply must eat right now—do take care with blood stains.

Note that the short pencil skirt is equipped with slits at the thigh for easy weapon retrieval and freedom of movement. Once again, if he insists that he must...eat right now, bring the dress back to us and we’ll stitch it back together. It will be free. But questions WILL be asked. And all the nitty gritty details will be REQUIRED. Thank you.

The red tale is emblazoned with naga snake skin gold print. It fastens with a hook for easy adjustment and disposal, but it would be a shame to lose it as it’s riddled with several mini-compartments for all sorts of poisons, lock picking tools...a nail file.

Sinister Stitches recommends paring this dress with a short white fox fur-lined cloak, a pair of brocaded lace tights and your best hunting boots. …

IMPORTANT BULLETINS from THE PIXIES: Fancy a tour of New Gotham? Check out New Gotham’s Survival Guide! It might save your life! (Link: http://sophieavett.weebly.com/new-gotham-bonus-content.html) For more information about Sophie Avett’s New Gotham novels and Sinister Stitches series and recent release, ‘Twas the Darkest Night, please check out her website: http://www.sophieavett.weebly.com.

For more information about Jennifer Blackstream and Princess Irina’s adventure in One Bite, please check out her website: http://www.jenniferblackstream.com

Create a Waste Free Christmas

By Wenona Napolitano Facts About Holiday Waste Between Thanksgiving and New Years Day American household waste increases by more than 25%.-when you add food waste, shopping bags, packaging, wrapping paper, bows and ribbons - it all adds up to an additional 1 million tons of waste per week sent to our landfills. (Source EPA and Use Less Stuff) Every year in the U.S. alone the annual trash from gift-wrap and shopping bags totals over 4 million tons. (Use Less Stuff) Are those statistics enough to make you consider a green waste free Christmas?

Decorate Green The first thing you’ll want to do to create a waste free Christmas is decorate green with recyclable, reusable items. Skip the stuff that’s just going to be tossed in the trash and use heirloom ornaments and decorations that can be used year after year. If you do invest in new items make sure you buy quality products that will last for years to come.

There’s an ongoing debate about Christmas trees. An artificial tree can keep real trees from being cut down but artificial trees are not usually made of earth-friendly materials, but once you buy one it lasts for years- a good one that is taken care of can last decades. I know, I use my mom’s artificial tree that she purchased thirty years ago.

Experts are even sometimes divided on whether it is better to buy a fake tree or purchase a real one.

My opinion is this- if you already have a fake tree stick with it but if you need a tree opt for a live one.

The best choices for live trees are ones that are purchased from local tree farms (organic if possible). These trees are grown to be cut down and sold. The farm will replant trees almost every year to replace the ones cut down the year before. Purchasing from a local tree farm will also support your local community.

After Christmas is over have your tree mulched. Many communities are now providing tree-recycling services during the holidays. This saves all those trees from ended up in a landfill. About 30 million Christmas trees go to the landfill every year according to the Environmental News Network.

Wrap It Up

When shopping for gifts look for items with little to no packaging.

This means less waste for the landfill even less waste to recycle.

Once you have purchased your green gifts you are going to need to wrap them up in eco-style. According to The Recycler's Handbook half of all the paper America consumes in a year is used to wrap and decorate gifts.

Imagine if every family could just cut their paper consumption in half for the holidays- so much paper and trees could be saved.

You can easily cut down on waste by making your own holiday cards, tags, ribbons bows, and gift wrap out of scrap materials, used items or recycled materials.

Get the kids involved. Children love craft projects.. Let kids stamp, paint, and decorate plain boxes, bags and paper and transform it into fun holiday wrappings. You can also make use of unique items you have around your home and transform them into fun holiday wrapping paper, such as the comic section of newspapers, colorful pages from magazines, old maps or paper you make yourself.

Another great way to cut down on gift wrap waste is by making the present part of the package by wrapping one gift with another gift.

Are you giving a blanket as a gift? Put a present inside the blanket- use the blanket as the wrapping. Tie it with a used ribbon, piece of twine or string and you are all set. You can roll up sweaters or other clothing items and stick smaller gifts like socks and underwear inside. Tie gifts up in waste free style using curtain tiebacks, shoelaces or hair ribbons. That way everything is part of the gift. Nothing gets thrown away.

If you are handy with a needle and thread you could even make your own waste free, reusable cloth gift bags.

Use any fabric you have on hand to create gift bags. Fun holiday prints, old tablecloths, mismatched fabric napkins even old t-shirts or blue jeans would make fabulous reusable fabric gift bags Recycle and Reuse This holiday season skip all the disposable stuff that could end up in landfill.

After all the presents are unwrapped save your ribbons, bows, bags and boxes to use for other special occasions or for next year’s Christmas. I have a huge box I put gift bags, boxes, cards, tags and scraps of wrapping paper in to be used year after year. It goes in the cupboard will all of my other seasonal holiday decorations. The scraps are often used the following year to make homemade Christmas cards (a yearly family tradition).

If an item isn’t salvageable- recycle it. Make sure cardboard, paperboard and wrapping paper are all separated into their own piles because they often are sent to different locations for recycling. Be sure to recycle batteries, plastic container, wraps and bottles. Aluminum and glass can also be recycled.

To find local recycling locations near you visit www.Earth911.org

Interview with Leonie Rogers Author of Frontier Resistance Please share a little about yourself, your genres, any other pen names you use.

Hi everyone! My name’s Leonie Rogers, and I’m an Australian author who loves to write and read fantasy and science fiction in particular, but I also dabble in poetry as well. I write and blog under my own name. I originally came from Western Australia, and I’ve spent many years living in the remote Pilbara Region of WA, but now reside in the Upper Hunter, NSW. I’m rather fond of cats and dogs and we have two of each.

Tell us a little about your latest or upcoming release.

Frontier Resistance is Book 2 in the Frontier Series. It follows the ongoing adventures of Shanna, her friends and their starcats, as they try to protect their world from the invading Garsal. Starcats are huge (100kg) glowin-the-dark cats, who help to protect their human friends from the dangers of Frontier. They also like to sleep on the bed!

Are you a mom (or parent)?

I am! My husband and I have two children, who are now young adults. They’re both studying at university, and this year has been our first as ‘empty nesters.’ It’s very quiet when they’re both away. No-one’s playing the drumkit or the marimba or singing enthusiastically in the bathroom!

If yes do you find it hard to juggle writing and parenting?

It has certainly been a juggle! I’ve always liked writing, but up until I injured myself skiing a few years ago, I’d never had enough time to write as much as I wanted to. The Frontier Series has been written during two HSCs (final year twelve exams in Australia), two university entrance periods, one of which involved travelling to audition at a variety of Conservatorium’s of Music, and the normal ups and downs of being the parent of teenagers. Fortunately our eldest has been one of my chief test readers - I value her opinion highly, and she’s never been backward in saying “Hey Mum, that last chapter really sucks!” or other equally tactful things. It’s really important to have someone who reads your stuff and comments freely, not worrying about hurting your feelings…

Have you ever based your book or characters on actual events or people from your own life?

I have incorporated cyclones, map reading and navigation, abseiling, and living with cats into my books. One of our current cats wriggled his way into Frontier Resistance, but I changed his sex in order to protect his identity. The characters aren’t based on people I know, but I’m sure that various traits from people I’ve encountered have snuck in subliminally!

Is there a theme or message in your work that you would like readers to connect to?

I’d like readers, and particularly girls, to read about Shanna and realise that they are more than just the sum of their body parts. At this time in western society, there’s a lot of pressure for girls to conform to a narrow ideal of physical beauty - and to value that above anything else. Shanna’s a girl who’s valued for her skills and her competence, not her appearance. She’s resourceful, but still has to cope with all the normal doubts and fears that any teenager deals with. Frontier has a completely egalitarian society - gender plays no role in what you can do, just your talents, skills and hard work.

What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?

I met my husband in the volunteer fire brigade in WA, I’ve been a Vertical Rescue Team Leader and Instructor, and once walked about 600km with eight camels and several other people.

If this book is part of a series…what is the next book? Any details you can share?

This book is part two of the Frontier Series. The first book is called Frontier Incursion, and the third book Frontier Defiant. So, without spoilers - this is tricky - there will be some hard choices ahead for Shanna, and there will be sadness. It’s war, and there will be casualties and chaos, and hopefully some surprises, right at the end.

What book are you reading now?

This morning I finished John Scalzi’s ‘Old Man’s War.’ I really love the concept and the neat clean style of his writing.

What is in your to read pile?

Possibly an easier question to answer is “What isn’t in your to read pile?” It’s a family joke that I can’t walk past a bookstore with out walking in. And now I have a Kindle, and there’s this ‘1 click purchase’ button that makes it way too easy to buy books.

The top of my to-read pile looks something like this: Terry Pratchett’s ‘Long Earth’ series, absolutely anything I haven’t read by Brandon Sanderson and everything I’ve already read by him, (I’m a chronic re-reader), the second book in Patty Jansen’s ‘Ambassador’ series and the rest of Juliet Marillier’s Shadowfell series. I could go on, and on, and on, so I should stop now.

Chapter 1 SHANNA ran. Insectoid limbs scythed through the vegetation behind her, and red beams slashed past on either side, scorching as they grazed her skin. Her feet seemed mired in mud, and her pack dragged her backwards, overbalancing her towards the six-limbed creatures that dogged her steps. She flung her head frantically from side to side, desperately seeking her starcats. Where were Storm and Twister?

Ahead of her, she saw Allad stumble and fall, the tall scout’s body a smoking ruin as the beams sliced across him. Satin snarled and leapt at the invaders, only to perish in turn. Where were the others? What had happened to them? Still alone, Shanna struggled on, forcing one leaden leg after the other. She tried to discard her pack, but the straps refused to loosen, and then she stumbled over the first body. Storm. His fur was burnt and his eyes staring, and she burst into tears, sobbing as she ran, wanting to do nothing more than stop and cradle him, yet unable to do so for fear of the aliens hunting her. The tears threatened to blind her, but a voice, screaming from ahead, spurred her on.

Her breath was like fire in her throat, and now she could hear the sounds of offworld footsteps only seconds behind her, while a mound in the vegetation ahead told the tale of another body. Frantically she tried to change her course, but her heavy legs refused to turn and she almost fell as she tried to hurdle the still form.

A plaintive “No!” burst from her lips as she recognised the familiar cadet insignia and name on the sleeve of Verren’s bloodstained uniform.

The first clutch of an alien limb on her pack almost threw her backwards. Sobbing to breathe, she forced the words out. “Get away! No!” Drawing a ragged breath she tried to turn, but chitinous limbs restrained her. She fought them, but they dragged her back inexorably until she was stranded on her back, held down by the hard alien carapaces, unable to move. She flailed her arms desperately, but they were too heavy. And then she woke, disorientated, lathered in sweat, and panting.

For a moment she panicked, still unable to move and not understanding where she was until a plaintive hum jerked her into the present, and the weight upon her resolved into the anxious faces of two starcats, tidemarks glowing dimly in the darkness. Her muscles lost their terrified tension and she let her head collapse back against the unfamiliar softness of a pillow.

“Storm? Twister?” Relief flooded over her, and one of the feline bodies moved, and then she was able to lift her arms to caress the silky heads. Soft purrs sounded, and she felt the huge cat bodies curl gently around her, providing sorely needed comfort.

For a few moments she just lay there, but the vivid images from her nightmare remained - or rather, the real images of the last year replaced them, devastating in their rawness. Arad’s tear streaked face as he sat with Breeze’s still form vied with the sound of the alien vehicles destroying the beauty of her home world, grinding relentlessly towards the plateau that housed her people. Images of sliders, swarming towards her as their sensitive antennae quested for living flesh, mixed with a jumbled montage of cliff faces scarred by alien aircraft and flashes of the fear she’d experienced when they’d rescued the human slaves from their Garsal captors.

Then came more images - her brother, Kaidan, standing on the front lines with his bow; Verren binding gaping wounds in the aftermath of the battle; Ragar and Zandany sending their starcats to stand guard on the alien prisoners, and Taya and Amma, standing as stunned as she had, before the glowing Starlyne she’d thought was only an animal but had now proved to be so much more.

Her breath caught in her throat once more. She was inside a Starlyne habitation - she’d gone willingly, because of two images sent by the creatures as they’d communicated with the human beings of Frontier. The

first image had shown her the origins of her starcat friends. Within the Starlyne memories, she’d seen a tiny feline creature, newly arrived on a crashed starship and accompanied by a human child, yet frolicking in friendship with a Starlyne youngling in a sunlit glade. The second image had featured Storm, Twister and herself as the hope of both human and Starlyne, and it had engendered a burning desire within her to know more about their intentions and her place within their plans. Surely the fate of colliding worlds could not rest with her and her two starcats? The sweat on her body chilled suddenly, and she convulsively grabbed at the two huge heads next to her. Ear tip tidemarks cycled soothingly as if her cats knew what she was feeling, and slowly the overwhelming emotions were submerged once again by physical exhaustion, and she descended back into the blackness of sleep.

Becoming A Published Author (Or How To Live On An Emotional Roller Coaster)

By Leonie Rogers When you start writing a book, you really have no idea at all about the emotional roller coaster ride you’re about to begin. We all write differently. Some of us are ‘pantsers’ while others are ‘planners.’ Some write from beginning to end, while others write a bit here and a bit there, and then assemble the whole thing into a coherent whole.

No matter how you do it, you invest time, energy, emotion, technique, cleverness and hour upon hour of passion and enthusiasm into the work of the moment. You can go from thousands of words dashed off in a flurry of keyboard strokes, to the solitary word dragged from the recesses of your mind and laboriously typed letter by letter onto the page, only to be discarded an hour later in disgust.

Some days are a flat gallop of rampant creativity, while others are a dull, plodding stagger across the printed page. Some characters leap from your mind onto the page while others push and shove their way into the manuscript, evicting others and leaving them to fall forlornly onto the discard pile.

There’s a final moment of relief and exultation as you write the final line and place the final word, followed very quickly by the first quivers of doubt about your ability to write even a brief sentence. Gathering your courage, you carefully send out a query letter, requesting a publisher or an agent to consider reading your masterpiece, or you press the ‘submit’ button to send the whole thing out into the wide world to (hopefully) seek out fame and fortune.

More often than not, a letter or email returns, explaining that your work is ‘not quite what we’re looking

for at the moment’ or ‘not the right fit for us although another publisher might consider it in a different light’ or… Your spirits take a tumble, but you remind yourself that all the successful authors had many rejections and so you soldier on bravely.

At some point, you experience the elation of the acceptance letter, and you almost bounce with joy as you read it. You bounce right up to the point where you read the editor’s comments and discover that your pristine manuscript wasn’t quite as pristine as you thought it was. After the initial deep breath, you realise that the words of the editor are there to help you produce a better story, not crush your spirit and trample on your creative integrity, so you set your emotions to one side and begin the editing process.

Many edits later, you realise that your story is about to be published. It’s an ecstatic moment, and then it’s terrifying - what if the readers hate it? What if they review it, and it never rates more than one star? What if no-one reads it at all? Doubts and fears assail you.

And then rational thought slowly takes over. Does it really matter? You don’t like every book you’ve read, so it stands to reason that not everyone will like the one you’ve written. You’re a grown up. You’ve got your big girl panties on. You can cope. And so far all your reviews have been OK - not necessarily brilliant, but at least OK. And then you get THAT review. The one that you knew would come. The one that says all the things you’ve feared and all the things that strike right to your heart. There is sadness and that sinking feeling in your stomach that makes your knees quiver - and then there’s relief. It’s finally happened - you’ve had the dodgy review and you’ve survived it mostly intact. The rational part of your mind takes over and you start breathing again. The roller coaster finally slows down just enough for you to begin to enjoy the ride, and you swoop around the curves of receiving royalties and being called ‘an author.’ It’s a priceless moment.

You relax. You enjoy it. And then you write another book.

Frontier Resistance Frontier Book Two Leonie Rogers Genre: Science Fiction, Young Adult Publisher: Hague Publishing ISBN: 978-0-9872652-8-9 ASIN: B00MTACKWK Word Count: 133,000

Cover Artist: Emma Llewelyn Book Description The much awaited sequel to Frontier Incursion.

The Garsal have landed and Frontier has changed forever. Now Shanna and her friends must master their new gifts that will enable them to seek out the alien invaders before they enslave her world.

On the plateau the Council under Tamazine (the Senior Councillor) allies with the Starlyne race. Only united do the Scouts, their starcats, and the Starlyne have any chance of surviving, but Tamazine's distrust of the alliance creates a fatal weakness.

Below, the Garsal plot. They need a new pool of human slaves to expand their empire, but first, they must locate the humans already on Frontier and subdue them. Time is running out for both invader and settler, and the outcome hangs in the balance.

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/tvymDYRwj6Y Amazon Apple Barnes and Noble Google play Kobo About the Author: Originally from Western Australia, Leonie now lives in NSW in the Upper Hunter. She is the author of “Frontier Incursion” (YA Speculative Fiction) published in October 2012 by Hague Publishing, and also works part time as a physiotherapist. She dabbles in poetry, and has had a short story published in Antipodean SF. Frontier Resistance, part two of the Frontier Trilogy was published on the 3rd of October 2014, and she has also finished the first draft of the concluding book. They’re full of glow-in-the-dark cats who like to sleep on the bed, alien invaders, and a planet out to kill the unwary.

She has a past life as a volunteer firefighter and State Emergency Service member, and once trekked almost six hundred kilometres with eight camels and several other human beings. She is married with two late teen kids, two dogs and two cats, one of whom frequently handicaps her ability to use a laptop computer.

Twitter:

@RaeYesac

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/leonierogersauthor

Wordpress blog:

www.leonierogers.wordpress.com

Cover Reveal 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 herself, 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.

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(Don't worry we will teach you. It's at no extra cost) MOSTLY we are after authors who are great storytellers, world builders, and character creators especially in the realms of Scifi, Paranormal, and Fantasy.

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PROLOGUE The Norselands, A.D. 850…

Only the strongest survived in that harsh land…

Sigurd Sigurdsson sat near the high table of King Haakon’s yule feast sipping at the fine ale from his own jewel-encrusted, silver horn. (Many of those “above the salt,” held gold vessels, he noted.) Tuns of ale and rare Frisian wine flowed. (His mead tasted rather weak, but mayhap that was his imagination.)

Favored guests at the royal feast (He was mildly favored.) had their choice amongst spit-roasted wild boar, venison and mushroom stew, game birds stuffed with chestnuts, a swordfish the size of a small longboat, eels swimming in spiced cream sauce, and all the vegetable side dishes one could imagine, including the hated neeps. (Hated by Sigurd, leastways. He had a particular antipathy to turnips due to some youthling insanity to determine which lackwit could eat the most of the root vegetables without vomiting, or falling over dead as a stump. He lost.) Honey oak cakes and dried fruit trifles finished off the meal for those not filled to overflowing. (Peaches, on the other hand, were fruit of the gods, in Sigurd’s opinion.) Entertainment was provided by a quartet of lute players who could scarce be heard over the animated conversation and laughter. (Which was just as well; they harmonized like a herd of screech owls. Again, in Sigurd’s opinion.) Good cheer abounded.

(Except for…)

In the midst of the loud, joyous celebration, Sigurd’s demeanor was quiet and sad.

But that was nothing new. Sigurd had been known as a dark, brooding Viking for many of his twenty and seven years. Darker and more brooding as the years marched on. And he wasn’t even drukkinn.

Some said the reason for Sigurd’s discontent was the conflict betwixt two warring sides of his nature.

A fierce warrior in battle and, at the same time, a noted physician with innate healing skills inherited from and homed by his grandmother afore her passing to the Other World when he’d been a boyling.

Sigurd knew better. He had a secret sickness of the soul, and its name was Envy. Never truly happy, never satisfied, he always wanted what he didn’t have, whether it be a chest of gold, the latest, fastest longship, a prosperous estate, the finest sword. A woman. And he did whatever necessary to attain that new best thing. Whatever.

‘Twas like a gigantic worm he’d found years past in the bowels of a dying man. Egolf the Farrier had been a giant of a burly man in his prime, but at his death when he was only thirty he’d been little more than a skeleton with no fat and scant flesh to cover his bones. The malady had no doubt started years before inno-

cently enough with a tiny worm in an apple or some spoiled meat, but over the years, attached to his innards like a ravenous babe, the slimy creature devoured the food Egolf ate, and Egolf had a huge appetite, in essence starving the man to death.

“Sig, my friend!” A giant hand clapped him on the shoulder and his close friend and hersir Bertim sat down on the bench beside him. Beneath his massive red beard, the Irish Viking’s face was florid with drink. “You are sitting upright,” Bertim accused him.

“Is that still your first horn of ale that you nurse like a babe at teat?

drink and too fearful of the wrath of his new Norse wife, and Sigurd lacked interest in services offered so easily. The maid shrugged and made her way to the next hopefully-willing male.

Picking up on their conversation, Bertim said, “The friendship of a king is naught to minimize. It can be priceless.”

Sigurd had reason to recall Bertim’s ale-wise words later that night, rather in the wee hours of the morning, when Queen Elfrida, despite Sigurd’s best efforts, delivered a deformed, puny babe, a girl, and Sigurd was asked by the king, in the name of friend“What an image!” Sigurd shook his head with ship, to take the infant away and cut off its whispery amusement. “I must needs stay sober. The queen may breath. yet produce a new son for Haakon this night.”

It was not an unusual request. In this harsh “Her timing is inconvenient, but then a yule land, only the strongest survived, and the practice of child brings good luck.” Bertim raised his bushy eye- infanticide was ofttimes an act of kindness. Or so the brows as a sudden thought struck him. “Dost act as beleaguered parents believed. midwife now?”

But Sigurd did not fulfill the king’s wishes.

“When it is the king’s whelp, I do.”

Leastways, not right away. Visions of another night and another life and death decision plagued Sigurd as Bertim laughed heartily. he carried the swaddled babe in his arms, its cries little more than the mewls of a weakling kitten.

“In truth, Elfrida has been laboring for a day and night so far with no result. The delivery promises Despite his full-length, hooded fur cloak, the to be difficult.” wind and cold air combined to chill him to the bone.

He tucked the babe closer to his chest and imagined Bertim nodded. ‘Twas the way of nature. he felt her heart beat steady and true. Approaching the “What has the king promised you for your assiscliff that hung over the angry sea, where he would tance?” drop the child after pinching its tiny nose, Sigurd kept murmuring, “’Tis for the best, ‘tis for the best.” His “Naught much,” Sigurd replied with a shrug. eyes misted over, but that was probably due to the “Friendship. Lot of good that friendship does me, snow flakes that began to flutter heavily in front of though. Dost notice I am not sitting at the high tahim. ble?”

He would do as the king asked. Of course he “And yet that arse licker Svein One-Ear sits would. But betimes it was not such a gift having royal near the king,” Bertim commiserated. friends.

I should be up there. Ah, well. Mayhap if I do Just then, he heard a loud voice bellow, the king this one new favor... He shrugged. The seat- “SIGURD! Halt! At once!” ing was a small slight, actually.

He turned to see the strangest thing. Despite A serving maid interrupted them, leaning over the blistering cold, a dark-haired man wearing naught the table to replenish their beverages. The way her but a long, white, rope-belted gown in the Arab style breasts brushed against each of their shoulders gave approached with hands extended. clear signal that she would be a willing bed partner to either or both of them. Bertim was too far gone in the Without words, Sigurd knew that the man

wanted the child. To his surprise, Sigurd handed over the bundle that carried his body heat to the stranger.

“Take her, Caleb,” the man said to yet another man in a white robe who appeared at his side.

He knows my name. “That I freely admit.”

“And yet you do not repent. And yet you would have taken another life tonight.”

“Yes, Michael.” Caleb bowed as if the first man “Another?” Sigurd inquired, although he knew were a king or some important personage. for a certainty what Michael referred to, and it was not some enemy he had covered with sword dew in rightMore kings! That is all I need! eous battle. But how could the man…rather angel… possibly know what had been Sigurd’s closely held seThe Michael person passed the no-longer cry- cret all these years. No one else knew. ing infant to Caleb, who enfolded the babe in what appeared to be wings, but was probably a white fur cloak, “There are no secrets, Viking,” Michael inand walked off, disappearing into the now heavy snow- formed him. fall.

Holy Thor! Now he is reading my mind!

“Will you kill the child?” Sigurd asked, realizing for the first time that he might not have been able Before Sigurd could reply, the snow betwixt to do it himself. Not this time. them swirled, then cleared to reveal a picture of himself as a boyling of ten years or so bent over his little “Viking, will you never learn?” Michael asked. ailing brother Aslak, a five-year-old of immense beauty, even for a male child. Pale white hair, perfect feaHe said “Viking” as if it were a bad word. Sig- tures, a bubbling, happy personality. Everyone loved urd was too stunned by this tableau to be affronted.

Aslak, and Aslak loved everyone in return.

“Who are you? What are you?” Sigurd asked as Sigurd had hated his little brother, despite the he noticed the massive white wings spreading out be- fact that Aslak followed him about like an adoring puphind the man. py. Aslak was everything that Sigurd was not. Sigurd’s dull brown hair only turned blond when he got older “Michael. An archangel.” and the tresses had been sun-bleached on sea voyages.

His facial features had been marred by the pimples of a Sigurd had heard of angels before and seen im- youthling. He had an unpleasant, betimes surly, dispoages on wall paintings in a Byzantium church. “Did sition. In other words, unlikable, or so Sigurd had you say arse angel?” thought.

“You know I did not. Thou art a fool.”

No sense of humor at all. Sigurd assumed that an archangel was a special angel. “Am I dead?”

“Not yet. ” That did not sound promising. “But soon?”

“Sooner than thou could imagine,” he said without the least bit of sympathy.

Can I fight him? Somehow, Sigurd did not think that was possible.

“You are a grave sinner, Sigurd.”

Being the youngest of the Sigurdsson boys, before Aslak, and the only one still home, Sigurd had been more aware of his little brother’s overwhelming popularity. In truth, in later years, when others referred to the seven Sigurdsson brothers, they failed to recall that at one time there had been eight.

Sigurd blinked and peered again into the swirling snow picture of that fateful night. His little brother’s wheezing lungs laboring for life through the long pre-dawn hours. His mother Lady Elsa had begged Sigurd to help because, even at ten years of age, he had healing hands. Sigurd had pretended to help, but in truth he had not employed the steam tenting or special herb teas that might have cured his dying brother.

Aslak had died, of course, and Sigurd knew it was his

fault.

“By death?”

Looking up to see Michael staring at him, SigMichael nodded. “Thou art already dead inurd said, “I was jealous.” side, Sigurd. Now your body will be, as well.”

Michael shook his head. “Nay, jealousy is a less than admirable trait. Your sin was envy.”

So be it. It was a fate all men must face, though he had not expected it to come so soon. “You mention my brothers. They will die, too?”

“Envy. Jealousy. Same thing.”

“They will. If they have not already passed.”

“Lackwit!” Michael declared, his wings bristling wide like a riled goose. “Jealousy is a foolish emotion, but envy destroys the peace of the soul.

When was the last time you were at peace, Viking?”

Sigurd thought for a long moment. “Never, that I recall.”

Seven brothers dying in the same year? This was the fodder of sagas. Skalds would be speaking of them forever more. “Will I be going to Valhalla, or the Christian heaven, or that other place?” He shivered inwardly at the thought of that latter, fiery fate.

“None of those. You are being given a second “Envy stirs hatred in a person, causing one to chance.” wish evil on another. That was certainly the case with your brother Aslak. And with so many others you “To live?” This was good news. have maligned or injured over the years.”

Michael shook his head. “To die and come Sigurd hung his head. ‘Twas true. back to serve your Heavenly Father in a new role.”

“Envy causes a person to engage in immoderate quests for wealth or power or relationships that betimes defy loyalty and justice.”

Sigurd nodded. The archangel was painting a clear picture of him and his sorry life.

“The worst thing is that you were given a treasured talent. The gift of healing. Much like the Apostle Luke. But you have disdained it. Abused it.

And failed to nourish it for a greater good.”

“As an angel?” Sigurd asked with incredulity.

“Hardly,” Michael scoffed. “Well, actually, you would be a vangel. A Viking vampire angel put back on earth to fight Satan’s demon vampires, Lucipires. For seven hundred years, your penance would be to redeem your sins by serving in God’s army under my mentorship.”

Sigurd could tell that Michael wasn’t very happy with that mentorship role, but he could not dwell on that. It was the amazing ideas the archangel “An apostle?” Sigurd was not a Christian, but was putting forth. he was familiar with tales from their Bible. “You would have me be as pure as an apostle? I am a Vi“Do you agree?” Michael asked. king.”

Huh? What choice did he have? The fires of “Idiots! I am forced to work with idiots.” Mi- hell, or centuries of living as some kind of soldier. “I chael rolled his eyes. “Nay, no one expects purity agree, but what exactly is a vampire?” from such as you. Enough! For your grave sins, and those of your six brothers…in fact, all the Vikings as He soon found out. With a raised hand, Mia whole…the Lord is sorely disappointed. You must chael pointed a finger at Sigurd and unimaginable be punished. In the future, centuries from now, there pain wracked his body, including his mouth where the will be no Viking nation, as such. Thus sayeth the jaw bones seemed to crack and realign themselves, Lord,” Michael pronounced. “And as for you Sigurds- emerging with fangs, like a wolf. He fell to his knees son miscreants…your time on earth is measured.” as his shoulder blades also seem to explode as if struck with a broadsword.

tions. When she’d found out she was pregnant midway “Fangs? Was that necessary?” he gasped, glanc- through her junior year at Florida State and her scuming upward at the celestial being whose arms were bag boyfriend Chip Dougherty skipped campus faster folded across his chest, staring down at him. than his two hundred dollar running shoes could carry him. When her hopes for a career in physical therapy “You’ll need them for sucking blood.” went down the tubes. When she’d found out two years ago that her sweet baby girl had an inoperable brain “From what?” tumor. When the blasted tumor kept growing, and Izzie got sicker and sicker. When Marisa had lost her third “What do you think? From a peach? Idiot! Fom job in a row because of missing so many days for Izpeople…or demons.” zie’s appointments. And now…well, she refused to break down now either, not where others could see.

“What? Eeew!” He expects me to drink blood?

From living persons? Or demons? I do not know about And there were people watching. Looking like this bargain. a young Sophia Loren, not to mention being five-ten in her three-inch heels, she often got double takes, and the “Thou can still change thy mind, Viking,” Mi- occasional wolf whistle. And she knew how to work it, chael said. especially when tips were involved at The Palms Health Spa where she was now employed as a certified Reading my mind again! Damn! “And go to massage therapist, as well as the Salsa bar where she hell?” worked nights at a second job. Was she burning the candle at both ends? Hell, yes. She wished she could “Thou sayest it.” do more.

Sigurd thought about negotiating with the angel, but knew instinctively that it would do no good.

He nodded. “It will be as you say.”

Moments later, when the pain subsided somewhat, the angel raised him up and studied him with icy contempt, or was it pity? “Go! And do better this time, vangel.”

On those words, Sigurd fell backwards and over the cliff. Falling, falling, falling toward the black, roiling sea. He discovered in that instant that there was one thing a vangel didn’t have. Wings. ***** CHAPTER ONE Florida, 2014 Sometimes life throws you a life line, sometimes a lead sinker…

No one watching Marisa Lopez emerge from the medical center in downtown Miami would have guessed that she’d just been delivered a death blow.

Not for herself, but for her five-year-old daughter Isobel.

Slinging her knock-off Coach bag over one shoulder, she donned a pair of oversized, fake Dior sunglasses. Her scoop-necked, white silk blouse was tucked into a black pencil skirt, belted at her small waist with a counterfeit, red Gucci belt. Walking briskly on pleather Jimmy Choos, she made her way down the street to her car parked on a side street…a ten-yearold Ford Focus. Not quite the vehicle to go with her seemingly expensive attire, a carefully manufactured image. Little did folks know that hidden in her parents’ garage was a fortune in counterfeit and knock-off items, from Rolex watches to Victoria’s Secret lingerie, thanks to her jailbird brother Steve. A fortune that could not be tapped because someone besides her brother would end up in jail. Probably me, considering the bad luck cloud that seems to be hanging over my head.

It wasn’t against the law to wear the stuff, just so long as she didn’t sell it. To her shame, she’d been tempted on more than one occasion this past year to do just that. Desperation trumps morality. So far, she hadn’t succumbed, though all her friends knew where to come when they needed something “special.”

Her parents had no idea what was in the greenlidded bins that had been taped shut with duct tape.

Marisa had become a master at hiding her emo- They probably thought it was Steve’s clothes and other

worldly goods. Hah! Once inside her car, with the air conditioner on full blast, Marisa put her forehead on the steering wheel and wept. Soul searing sobs and gasps for breath as she cried out her misery. Marisa knew that she had to get it all out before she went home where she would have to pretend optimism before Izzie, who was way too perceptive for her age. Marisa’s parents, on the other hand, would need to know the prognosis. They would be crushed, as she was.

A short time later, by mid afternoon, with her emotions under control and her makeup retouched, Marisa walked up the sidewalk to her parents’ house.

She noticed that the Lopez Plumbing van wasn’t in the driveway; so, her father must still be at work.

Good. Marisa didn’t need the double whammy of both parents’ reaction to the latest news. One at a time would be easier.

been watching cartoons on the television that had been turned to a low volume. The pretty, soft, pink and lavender afghan her grandmother had knitted covered her from shoulders to bare feet, but even so, her thin frame was apparent. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes. Even so, she was cute as a button with her ski-jump nose and rosebud mouth, thanks to her father. But then, she’d inherited a Latin complexion, dark dancing eyes, and a frame that promised to be tall from Marisa, who was no slouch in the good looks department, if she did say so herself. No doubt about it, Izzie was destined to be a beauty when she grew up. If she ever did.

Marisa put her bag on the coffee table and leaned down to kiss the black curls that capped her little girl’s head. She and her daughter shared the same coal black hair, but Marisa’s was thick and straight as a pin. At one time, Izzie had sported a wild mass of dark corkscrew curls, all of which had been lost in her first bout of radiation. A wasted effort, the Marisa had moved into her parents’ house, radiation had turned out. To everyone’s surprise, esactually the apartment over the infamous garage, after pecially Izzie, the shorter hairdo suited her better.

Izzie’s initial diagnosis two years ago…to save money and take advantage of her parents’ generous offer With a deep sigh, Marisa entered the kitchen. to baby sit while Marisa worked. Her older brother Steve, who had been the apartment’s prior occupant, Her mother was standing at the counter washwas already in jail by that time, serving a two to six ing lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and radishes that she for armed robbery. The idiot had carried an old boy must have just picked from the small garden in the scout knife in his pocket when he’d stolen the cash back yard. She wore her standard daytime “uniform.” register receipts at the Seven Eleven. Ironically, he’d A blouse tucked into stretchy waist slacks, and curlers never been nabbed for selling counterfeit goods…his on her head. Soon she would shower and change to a side job, so to speak. dress and medium pumps, her black hair all fluffed out, lipstick and a little makeup applied, to greet DadUnfortunately, this wasn’t Steve’s first stint in dy when he got home. It was a ritual she had followed the slammer, although it was his first felony. She every single day since her marriage thirty-two years hoped he learned something this time, but she was ago. Just as she maintained her trim, attractive figure doubtful. at fifty-nine. To please Daddy, as much as herself.

Marisa used her key to enter the thankfully air -conditioned house. Immediately, her mood lightened somewhat in the home’s cozy atmosphere. Overstuffed sofa and chair. Her dad’s worn leather recliner that bore the imprint of his behind from long years of use. And the smell…ah! The air was permeated with the scent of spicy browned beef and tomatoes and fresh baked bread. It was Monday; so, it must be Vaca Vieja, or shredded beef, her father’s favorite, which would be served over rice with a fresh salad.

No bagged salads here. No store bought bread.

Izzie was asleep on the couch where she’d

As for her father…even with the little paunch he’d put on a few years back and a receding hairline, when he walked into the house wearing his plumbing coveralls, Marisa’s mother had been known to sigh and murmur, “Men in uniform!”

Marisa’s mother must have sensed her presence because she turned abruptly. At first glance, she gasped and put a hand to her heart. No hiding anything from a mother.

“Oh, Marisa, honey!” her mother said. Making the sign of the cross, she sat down at the kitchen

table and motioned for Marisa to sit, too.

“Tsk-tsk!” Her mother said. “A nun always has time for more prayers. And I will ask my Rosary, Altar First-generation Cuban-Americans, they’d Society ladies to start a novena. A miracle, that is what named their first-born child Estefan Lopez. He became we need.” known as Steve. Marisa Angelica, who came five years later…a “miracle baby” for the couple who’d been told Marisa rolled her eyes before she could catch there would be no more children…was named after herself.

Grandma Lopez “back home,” and Aunt Angelica who was a nun serving some special order in the PhilipHer mother wagged a forefinger at her. pines.

“Nothing is impossible with prayer.”

“Tell me,” her mother insisted.

It couldn’t hurt, Marisa supposed, although she was beginning to lose faith, despite being raised in a “Doctor Stern says the tumor has grown, only strict Catholic household. Hah! Look how much good slightly, in the past two months, but her brain and other that moral upbringing had done Steve. tissue are increasing like any normal growing child and pressing against…” Tears welled in her eyes, despite That wasn’t fair, she immediately chastised herher best efforts, and she took several of the tissues her self. Steve brought on his problems, and was not the mother handed her. “Oh, Mom! He says, without that issue today. Izzie was. Besides, who was she to talk. experimental surgery, she only has a year to live. And Having a baby without marriage. “Okay, Mom, we’ll even with the surgery, it might not work.” pray,” she conceded. If I still can.

Izzie’s only hope, and it was a slim one at best, was some new procedure being tried in Switzerland.

Because it was experimental and in a foreign country, insurance would not cover the expense. Marisa had managed to raise an amazing hundred thousand dollars through various charitable endeavors, but she still needed another seventy thousand dollars. That seventy thou might just as well be a hundred million, considering Marisa’s empty bank account, as well as her parents, who’d second-mortgaged their house when Steve got into so much trouble.

She and her mother both bawled then. What else could they do? Well, her mother had ideas, of course.

Her mother stood and poured them both cups of her special brewed coffee from an old metal coffee pot on the stove. No fancy pancy (her mother’s words) Keurig or other modern devices for the old-fashioned lady. They both put one packet of diet sugar and a dollop of milk in their cups before taking the first sip.

She let the peaceful ambiance of the kitchen fill her then. To Cubans, the kitchen was the heart of the home, and this little portion of the fifty-year-old ranch style house was indeed that. The oak kitchen cabinets were original to the house, but the way her mother cleaned, they gleamed with a golden patina, like new.

Curtains with embroidered roses framed the doublewindow over the sink. In the middle of the room was an old aluminum table that could seat six, in the center of which was a single red rose in a slim crystal vase, the sentimental weekly gift from her father to her mother. The red leather on the chair seats had been reupholstered twice now by her father’s hands in his tool room in the basement. A Tiffany-style fruited lamp hung over the table.

A shuffling sound alerted them to Izzie coming toward the kitchen. Trailing the afghan in one hand and her favorite stuffed animal, a ratty, floppy eared rabbit named Lucky in the other, she didn’t notice at first that her mother was home.

Marisa stood. “Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beau-

“First off, we will pray,” her mother declared.

“And we will ask Angelica to pray for Izzie, too.”

“Mom! With the hurricane that hit the Philippines last year, Aunt Angelica has way too much on her prayer schedule.”

ty?”

“Mommy!” Dropping the afghan and Lucky, she raced into Marisa’s open arms. Marisa twirled Izzie around in her arms until they were both dizzy. She dropped down to the chair again, with Izzie on her lap, both of them laughing. “Dizzy Izzie!” her daughter

squealed, like she always did.

“Bull!” Marisa opined.

“For you, Isobella.” Her mother placed before Izzie a plastic Barbie plate of chocolate-sprinkled They were in a back room of the restaurant, sugar cookies and a matching teacup of chocolate talking a break. They wore the one-shouldered, kneemilk. Her mother would have already crushed some length, black Salsa dresses with ragged hems, La Cuof the hated pills into the milk. characha’s uniform for women (the men wore slim black pants and white shirts). They were both roughly “I’m not hungry, Nana,” Izzie whined, bury- five foot eight, but otherwise completely different. ing her face against Marisa’s chest.

Where Marisa was dark and olive skinned, Inga was blond and Nordic. Where Marisa’s figure was what “You have to eat something, honey. At least might be called voluptuous, Inga’s was slim and boydrink the milk,” Marisa coaxed. like, except for the boobs she bought last year. The garments they wore were not meant to be revealing After a good half hour of bribing, teasing, but to accommodate the restaurant’s grueling heat due singing, and game playing, she and her mother got to the energetic dancing. They needed a break occaIzzie to eat two of the cookies and drink all of the sionally just to cool off. milk.

Inga waved a newspaper article at her and “What did the doctor say?” Izzie asked sudread aloud , “All the movers and shakers in the Freedenly. dom of Expression industry will be there. Multibillion dollar investors, movie producers, Internet guUh-oh! Izzie knew that Marisa had gone to the rus, actors and actresses, store owners, franchisees—” medical center to discuss her latest test results.

“Doctor Stern said you are growing like a weed. No, “Franchisees of what?” Marisa interrupted. he said you are growing faster than Jack and the “Smut?”

Beanstalk’s magic beans.” At least that was true. She was growing, despite her loss of weight.

Inga made a tsking sound and continued, “— sex toy manufacturers, instructors on DIY home videIzzie giggled. “I’m a big girl now.” os—” “Yes, you are, sweetie,” Marisa said, hugging her little girl warmly.

“What’s DIY?” Marisa interrupted again.

“Do It Yourself.”

Somehow, someway, I am going to get the money for Izzie, Marisa vowed silently. It might take one of my mother’s miracles, but I am not going to let my precious little girl die. But how? That is the question.

“Oh, good Lord!”

“Martin Vanderfelt—” “A made-up name if I ever heard one.”

The answer came to her that evening when she was at La Cucaracha, the Salsa bar where she worked a second job as a waitress and occasional bartender.

Well, a possible answer.

“Please, Marisa, give me a chance.”

Marisa made a motion of zipping her lips.

“A porno convention?” she exclaimed, at first “Martin Vanderfelt, the conference organizer, disbelieving that her best friend Inga Johanssen told the Daily Buzz reporter, “Our aim is to remove would make such a suggestion. the sleaze factor from pornography and gain recognition as a legitimate professional enterprise serving the “More than that. The first ever International public. Freedom of Expresson. FOE.” Conference on Freedom of Expression,” Inga told her.

Marisa rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“This is the best part. It’s being held for one week on a tropical island off the Florida Keys. Grand Keys, a plush special events convention center, offers all the amenities of a four-star hotel, including indoor and outdoor pools, snorkeling and boating services, beauty salons and health spas, numerous restaurants with world class cuisines, nightclubs, tennis courts—” “I’d like to see some of those over-endowed porno queens bouncing around on a tennis court,” Marisa had to interject.

Inga smiled.

“I thought they always held the pornography thing every year in Las Vegas.”

“The Expo is held there, but that’s more for public show. They have booths and stuff and even an awards show like the Oscars. This is more for industry insiders.”

teen hundred islands, some inhabited, others little more than mangrove and limestone masses. The islands lie along the Florida Straits dividing the Atlantic Ocean from the Gulf of Mexico.

“Okay, I give up. Why would you or I even consider something like this? Oh, my God! You’re not suggesting I make porno films to raise money for Izzie, are you?”

“Of course not. Look. This article says they’re looking to hire employees for up to two weeks at above scale wages, all expenses paid, including transportation. Everything from waiters and waitresses to beauticians to diving instructors…even a doctor and nurse.

Waiters and waitresses can expect to earn at least ten thousand dollars, and that doesn’t include tips, which could add another twenty K or more. Upper scale professions, much more.”

“Why would a hotel have to hire so many employees for just one event? Wouldn’t they have a staff in place.”

“Inside, all right,” she said with lame humor.

“The company that owns the island went bank“So cynical! Becky Bliss will be there. You rupt last year, and the property is in foreclosure. In the know who she is, don’t you?” meantime, until it is sold, the bank rents it out at an exorbitant amount. You know how abandoned properties Even Marisa knew Becky Bliss. She was the deteriorate or get vandalized. Plus, the bank probably porno princess famous for being able to twerk while on hopes one of the wealthy dudes or dudettes who attend top, having sex. “Are you suggesting we might learn this thing might fall in love with the place.” how to do that?”

“You know an awful lot about Grand Keys Is“It wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it would enhance your land.” non-existent sex life.”

Inga shrugged. “I checked it out on the Internet.

“Not like that!”

Hey, here’s an idea. You could even work as a massage therapist. Betcha lots of these porno stars need to work “Okay. Besides, Lance Rocket will be there, out the kinks. The big ones would leave hundred dollar too.” tips.” She grinned impishly at Marisa.

Marisa had no idea who Lance Rocket was, but Marisa couldn’t be offended at Inga’s teasing she could guess. her about the popular misconception of professional masseurs and masseuses. “Kinks…that about says it “Anyhow, this conference isn’t for your every- all. Pfff! Can you imagine what they would expect of a day Joe, the porn aficionado. It costs five thousand dol- massage therapist at one of these events?” She lowered lars to attend. The only access to the island is by water. her voice to a deep baritone and added, ‘My shoulders You can’t drive there, of course. They expect to see are really tight, honey, and while you’re at it, check out lots of yachts and seaplanes.” down yonder.’”

Marisa was vaguely aware of the private islands Inga laughed. “I’m just saying. If you worked comprising the Florida Keys. An unbelievable seven- as many hours there, let’s say double shifting between

waitressing and therapy, you might very well earn close to thirty thousand dollars. In less than two weeks! When opportunity comes down the street, honey, jump on the bus.”

tacted said it has been overdone. There’s no profit for them.”

“Maybe you’ve made the wrong contacts.

Maybe if you met someone one on one…I don’t “You say opportunity, I say bad idea. Honest- know, Marisa, isn’t it worth a try?” Inga was serious ly, Inga, I can’t see us doing something like this.” now.

“Why not? We don’t have to like all the peo“I’ll think about it,” Marisa said, to her own ple that come to the Salsa bar, but we still serve them surprise. food and drinks.”

“Applications and interviews for employment “I don’t know,” Marisa said. are being held at the Purple Palm Hotel in Key West next Friday,” Inga pointed out. “Don’t think too “There’s something else to consider.” long.”

“If you’re going to suggest that I might find a sugar daddy to pay for Izzie’s operation, forget about it.” But don’t think that idea hasn’t occurred to me.

“No, but there will be lots of Internet types there. Maybe you could find someone with the technical ability to set up a website for Izzie to raise funds.”

“Don’t push.”

They heard the Salsa band break out in a lively instrumental with a rich Latin American beat. A prelude to the beginning of another set of dance music.

As they headed back to work, Inga said, “I’ll drive.”

“I already tried that, but every company I conVampire in Paradise Deadly Angels Series Book 5 Sandra Hill Genre: Paranormal Romance Publisher: Avon/Harper Collins Date of Publication: 11/25/2014 ISBN: 9780062210487 Number of pages: 352 Book Description: It’s been centuries since the Norseman Sigurd Sigurdsson was turned into a Vangel-a Viking Vampire Angel-as punishment for his sin of envy, but he’s still getting the hang of having fangs that get in the way when seducing women. Slaying demon vampires known as Lucipires and using his healing gifts as a cancer research doctor, Sigurd is sent to Florida’s Grand Keys Island as a resident physician where he encounters the most sinfully beautiful woman.

The only hope Marisa Lopez has of curing her five-year-old

daughter of is a pricey experimental procedure. When she meets the good-looking doctor, Marisa is speechless.

Then Sigurd tells her he believes he can help her daughter. Could this too-hot-to resist Viking doctor be an angel of some sort sent to bring a miracle for her daughter? Or is he just a vampire bent on breaking Marisa’s heart?

Available at Amazon BN Avon Romance Add it to Your Goodreads List

About the Author: Sandra Hill is a graduate of Penn State and worked for more than 10 years as a features writer and education editor for publications in New Jersey and Pennsylvania.

Writing about serious issues taught her the merits of seeking the lighter side of even the darkest stories.

She is the wife of a stockbroker and the mother of four sons. https://www.sandrahill.net/ https://www.facebook.com/SandraHillAuthor Join the author’s mailing list

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/177305.Sandra_Hill

Easy Ideas for a Merry Green Christmas

By Wenona Napolitano Are you tired dealing with a Christmas season that is stressful, commercialized and consumer-oriented?

Have you been trying to live a simpler, greener lifestyle, but you are not sure of how to go about greening the holiday season?

This year you can make your Christmas more eco-friendly and meaningful for you and your family.

Make Your Own Holiday Magic One way to add more meaning into the holiday season is to slow down and make time for the ones you love.

Shop less. Spend more time not money on your loved ones.

A great way to make memories that last is to create holiday traditions that you look forward to doing as a family: like making and decorating Christmas cookies, decorating the tree together or wrapping gifts together. Other traditions could be reading Christmas poems and stories, such as "The Night Before Christmas", as a family.

Another way to make holiday magic is to celebrate the true meaning of the holidays by doing something meaningful for someone else: Donate to charity or volunteer at a soup kitchen or homeless shelter for a day. Go through your closets and donate unused, un-needed items to charity. Get the kids involved too, have them find things they no longer need, and donate the items to charitable organizations or local churches that distribute items to the needy.

Decorate Green A fake tree can keep real trees from being cut down but artificial trees are not usually made of earth-friendly materials, yet once you buy one it lasts for years. Even experts are divided on whether it is better to buy a fake tree or purchase a real one. My pick is if you already have a fake one stick with it but if you need a tree then opt for a live one. Preferably a real tree that is purchased from a local tree farm (organic if possible) and have your tree mulched afterward. Many communities are now providing tree-recycling services during the holidays.

Once you have a tree, light it up with LEDs. They use 90% less energy than regular lights, which means you’ll be green, and you’ll save some green at the same time. They also don't emit as much heat, therefore helping to reduce the risk of fire. LEDs have other benefits as well: one LED light can outlast 60,000 regular incandescent bulbs and last up to twenty years longer than a regular bulb.

Another way to decorate green is to purchase decorations of good quality that will be used over and over again for years to come. You can also decorate with vintage ornaments or ones made from recycled and natural ob-

jects.

How about an old fashioned popcorn string that can be fed to the birds or composted after the holidays?

Just make sure to skip the disposable stuff that will only be thrown away. Save your ribbons, bows, bags and boxes and use them again next year. If it can't be saved, recycle it.

Greener Gifts You can green up your Christmas shopping habits, too.

One way is by purchasing eco-friendly gifts. These could include organic, sustainable, reused, recycled or fair trade items. Examples include organic bath and body products, natural beeswax or soy candles, or clothing and household linens made from organic cotton, hemp or bamboo.

Another way to shop green is to purchase items from nonprofits. Many of them sell great Christmas gifts and donate the proceeds to charity. Like the NWF (National Wildlife Federation) and WWF (World Wildlife Federation) both offer wild animal “adoptions” where you donate money to help an endangered animal and in return you get items like a certificate and stuffed animal-which would be the perfect gift for a child on your list.

Give green by giving gifts that are sure to be used. No one ever lets gift cards or gift certificates to someone's favorite store, tickets to a concert, movie passes or cold hard cash go to waste.

Shop for unique gifts for the collector on your list. Treasure hunt at local thrift stores, consignment shops or antique stores for one-of-a-kind fabulous finds.

Edible gifts are another eco-treat (except the fruitcake). A box of cookies, a cake, crackers and gourmet cheeses or fine chocolates are sure to be enjoyed. A wine lover would enjoy a good bottle of wine. Other options could be jars of do-it-yourself mixes for cookies, cakes, brownies and even soups. Homemade jams, jellies and canned vegetables or fruits are also a good choice and a way to extend your bountiful harvest.

A very green gift is one that you know someone really wants or needs. That way, you know it won't sit around unused, be returned or end up in a landfill anytime soon.

Other ideas for eco-friendly gifts include multipurpose, practical gifts that are likely to be used over and over again.

If you can’t come up with a great green gift idea you can always give the gift of yourself. Make up handmade certificates or coupons for your time or talent that may be needed. Could your best friend use some time by herself? Give her a coupon for a night of babysitting. Does your mom need some help with housecleaning?

Would grandpa like a home-cooked meal? Is there a special event your daughter would love to go to with you?

How about a night on the town with that special someone?

Wrap It Up Once you have the gifts you are going to need to wrap them up green.

You can make your own holiday cards, presents and gift wrap out of scrap materials, used items or recycled materials.

Get the kids involved. Children love craft projects, and they’ll feel like they have more input in the holidays

beyond asking for what they want from Santa. Let them paint, stamp, and decorate plain boxes, bags and paper and transform it into fun holiday wrappings.

Here are some tips for wrapping gifts the green way: Use unique reusable items for wrapping paper, such as the comic section of newspapers, pages from magazines, colorful maps or paper you make yourself.

Plain brown or white package paper can be completely transformed with stamps, paint, markers, stickers or anything else you may have laying around the house. Have the kids use finger paint and stamp their little handprints on the paper, which grandparents will love.

Make the present part of the package by wrapping a gift with another gift. Are you giving a blanket as a gift?

Put another present inside the blanket, and use the blanket as the wrapping. Tie it with a ribbon, and you are all set. Roll up sweaters, and stick items like socks and underwear inside. Tie gifts up with curtain tiebacks, shoelaces or hair ribbons. That way everything gets used, and nothing gets thrown away.

If you are handy with a needle and thread you could make reusable cloth gift bags to wrap up your green gifts.

If you like the idea of cloth gift bags but can’t stitch to save your life, check out www.giftbagsgonegreen.com for a nice selection of hand crafted, reusable cloth gift bags.

No time to make creative eco-wrappings? Then make sure you at least purchase wrapping paper that is made from recycled paper or tree free materials.

FishLipsPaperDesigns.com offers a cute selection of wrapping paper made from 100% recycled paper and printed with soy based inks. EarthLoven.com has some snazzy wrapping paper also made from 100% recycled paper and is printed with vegetable based ink.

Interested in learning more about greening the holidays? Check out I’m Dreaming of a Green Christmas: Gifts, Decorations, and Recipes that Use Less and Mean More by Anna Getty. It is full of crafts, recipes, gift ideas and so much more to help you have the best, and greenest, Christmas ever.

ReGift with Class

By Wenona Napolitano

It happens, we all end up receiving a few less than desirable gifts throughout our lives. Maybe it’s that third crock-pot you received as a wedding gift or the fourth toaster for your house warming or maybe it’s the ten millionth holiday coffee mug that found its way to your stocking but most of us all have a few things tucked away in cupboards or closets that we have never used.

With the economy in such a slump and eco-thoughts fully conscious in your mind it is time to rethink the regift.

The key to regifting is to do it with style and class.

First of all don’t regift to the person who originally gave you the gift or at a social function where that original gift giver may be. If the gift is something unique also don’t regift to someone who is in contact with the original gift giver (you wouldn’t want the gifter to see the gift at the new giftee’s home unless you plan on offering full disclosure).

Second, make sure the gift was never used and that it is still in pristine, brand new condition (exceptions are allowed for books, CDs and DVDs that you know someone would really love but they still have to be in good shape). For any appliances or items with multiple parts make sure that all the pieces are there and that the item is still in working condition. You don’t want to give a gift that’s all banged up and missing pieces after being shoved around in your closet, tossed around in the garage or moved from place to place. If it needs batteries put a brand new set in with the gift.

Third, rewrap the gift. Do not ever leave the gift in the same torn wrapping paper that you re-taped or in the same (now) rumpled gift bag it came in . And make sure you put a new tag on it addressing it specifically to the person the gift is for. This cleans it up and makes you put a little thought into it. A gift should always have a bit of a personal touch to it.

Fourth and most importantly, don’t regift just to get rid of something taking up space in your home or so can have a gift to give someone without spending any money. Give the gift to someone who will actually use and/ or enjoy the gift. If you know someone needs a toaster or coffee pot then by all means give them the extra appliance that you have in your closet but don’t just give it to someone to get rid of it.

There’s a way to really regift with class- personalize the gift. Make the receiver feel special by letting them know the gift is just for them, that you really thought about it. This could be done by adding little custom things. If it’s a scarf or linens add a bit of custom monogramming. Is it a book? Add a special note in the book for the person who is receiving it. Find some way to add a special touch to the gift so the receiver will feel special.

If you really want to unload some of those unused gifts taking up space, participate in a regifting party, also known as a white elephant exchange. You could even hold it on National Regifting Day which is December 18, 2014 this year. Always the third Thursday in December.

There are many ways to have a regifting party. One is to have everyone bring one or two unwrapped gifts and place them on a table. Everyone takes a number and the first number called gets to pick the first gift and it goes on from there until everyone gets a chance to choose a gift Here are two other ways to have a Regifting Party :

http://regiftable.com/Regifting101/WhiteElephant.aspx http://www.ehow.com/how_4537571_do-elephant-gift-exchange-holidays.html Leftover gifts and anything that’s really unwanted by anyone at the party can always be donated to Goodwill, The Salvation Army, or a local shelter. Someone could love it.

To learn more about regifting visit http://regiftable.com/ and make sure to check out ReGifting 101 http:// regiftable.com/Regifting101/Default.aspx for a crash course in regiving.

No Bake Pumpkin Pie Roxanne Rhoads For Thanksgiving I make a turkey dinner from scratch including homemade stuffing every year.

But when it comes to desserts I usually throw a frozen pie in the oven. I’m not much a sweets baker.

I’ve also never been a fan of pumpkin pie.

Then one year my son’s girlfriend made a no bake pumpkin pie with pudding.

Everyone loved it (including me) and it became an instant must have for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

They are no longer together. Which means no pie! The horror. So I texted her to find out how she made it.

Thank goodness it’s super easy.

All you need is vanilla instant pudding, canned pumpkin and a premade graham cracker crust.

Serves: 6 or more Ingredients 1 6 oz. package instant vanilla pudding mix 1 cup milk 1 16 ounce can pumpkin 1 tsp. ground cinnamon 1 tsp. vanilla extract 1 pre-made graham cracker crust Cool Whip or other whipped topping Preparation Mix pudding, milk, pumpkin, cinnamon and vanilla together in a large mixing bowl.

Blend well then pour into graham cracker crust.

Chill for at least an hour or two.

Top with Cool Whip and serve.

Why I’m an Indie Author Morgan Kelley In today’s world of writing, the battlefield has been divided. On one side you have the traditional publishing house author, and on the other, the indie.

Which is better?

Well, as someone who has worked both sides of the fence, I’m here to tell you that I wouldn’t ever go back to being in a publishing company’s pocket.

I love being an Indie.

Here’s why.

I control my characters. I get to write my stories my way. If I want to kill someone off, I don’t have to worry about someone telling me that I can’t. It’s my way or the highway in Morganville. That works for a control freak like me.

Next, I get to decide the length of my books. Did you know that most publishing companies don’t want huge novels? The amount of money they have to sell it for is a liability, so they cap it at words.

HOW? When you’re an author, like me, you know that the story tells itself. When I sit down to write, I don’t think about how long it’s going to be. I have a defined point in my mind that I want to get conveyed.

Once I start, it’s a free-for-all. I write to tell a tale, not to tell a word count.

You may think that’s silly, but when you think of it this way, each one of my novels are at least 500 pages, maybe just a few pages short or over. With my new one coming out, I hit 600 pages. A traditional publishing company would tell me to cut it in half, make it two stories, and force the reader (you) to wait for a second book release. It makes more money for everyone involved.

That doesn’t work for me.

I hate having to wait six months to read a second book in a series. So, as an author, I took an oath. I

don’t do it. I put out ten to twelve books a year for that reason. I want the reader to be happy, not pissed off.

But alas, it’s not always greener on the Indie side of the fence. There is one major downfall for me. It’s the publicity.

I hate it.

I’m a writer. What the heck do I know about promoting?

Nothing.

With a publishing company, you really don’t have to stress it. You write, make them happy, and in return they sell your baby to the masses. For any author, that’s a big fat perk. As an Indie, that’s not the case. So instead, we toil away on our computers, pouring out our souls to paper, and then have to struggle to get our words to the hungry book consumers. If we fail, our books go unread, our words go unheard, and alas, our stories go…untold.

It’s heartbreaking.

Maybe one day that will change.

Then again, maybe it won’t.

Either way, this author is done selling her soul to big publishing companies. Instead, I choose to live in the little world which I created, being perfectly content to please the people who find me.

For those who have, thank you.

For those who haven’t… I hope we meet someday. I have one hell of a story to tell you.

I think you’ll love it.

Xoxox Morgan.

Sinner Repent Carter Chronicles Trilogy Book One Morgan Kelley Genre: Erotic suspense/thriller Date of Publication: March 11, 2014 ASIN: B00IYH7Z7C Number of pages: 452

Cover Artist: Laura Gordon Design Book Description: Doctor Callista Carter only wants to heal. Running from a near life destroying case, she’s licking her wounds in a small town and off everyone’s radar.

Only, she’s drawn quite a bit of attention.

Someone’s taking lives, disguised behind the Seven Deadly Sins. It’s stirring up the small town, making waves.

The killers want her eliminated.

And the sheriff just wants her.

When Quinton Gaines is handed a slew of killings, he’s at a loss. He, too, has escaped to sleepy Myrtle Springs to regroup. Now, he’s reminded that death has no qualms with nipping at his heels. Yet, this may be the perfect opportunity to snag the elusive doctor, who has stolen his heart.

Or so he hopes…

When the killer gets personal, Quinn wishes he didn't drag Callie into the mess. Now, not only is she in danger for helping him, she’s marked to die.

Time’s running out.

Can love beat back the vicious claws of hate?

One truth is crystal clear. Quinton Gaines has to stop running in order to save his home and woman.

It’s not going to be easy with a madman hell bent on getting one thing…

REVENGE. The killers won’t stop at anything. It’s time to get ready, and like any good Sinner... Repent.

Sinner Repent ~ Book One~ Callie's story Available at Amazon Sinner Realized ~ Book Two ~ Luke's Story Now Available Sinner Reborn ~ Book Three~ Nate's Story.

Out Summer 2015 Excerpt © Copyright 2014 by Morgan Kelley LLC All rights reserved. First Edition * No parts of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or in an information storage or retrieval system without written consent from the author.

All characters and locations are fictional and any similarity to real life or individuals is coincidental. ~ Prologue ~ Saturday Late Evening As Sissy Parker slowly began to wake, she had no idea where she was, or how she ended up there. Trying to move her arms, Sissy could tell they were restrained above her head and immediately began to panic.

Struggling to get her bearings, she blinked rapidly, trying to take everything in. All around her there were candles and sinister shadows. Deep down, she had this building feeling of horror, as she could sense that there were malevolent eyes watching her from the creepy darkness.

She knew that something bad was coming.

As the fear rushed through her, Sissy’s body shook in terror at all the possible scenarios that were forming in her head. Having a wild imagination wasn’t her friend at that moment.

It was her worst nightmare.

Getting her bearings, she knew what to do.

Sissy screamed.

What caught her completely off guard was when no one tried to stop her frantic wails for help. Instead, she was met with laughter.

Sick.

Horrible.

Terrifying laughter.

Finally, after a brief amount of time had passed, the first shadow stepped forward. Sissy stared at the figure, trying to adjust to the dim light in the room.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice shaking.

Certainly, this had to be some kind of bad dream. Any second now, she would wake up.

There was no answer to her question, and that scared her just as much as what she suspected to be the truth. In fact, the silence was chilling.

“Please…what do you want from me? Why am I here?” she begged softly, as the words came out more like a whimper.

The figure moved forward, running a hand slowly down her naked body.

Sissy tried to pull away from the whisper light caress. At that point, she would have dislocated her own limbs to move out of her abductor’s reach.

“Stop! You’re scaring me. This isn’t funny. What am I doing here?”

Laughter came from another direction in the darkness, and Sissy whipped her head toward the sound.

Oh God! There was more than one!

At that moment, Sissy knew that she was in some serious shit. Even she wouldn’t be able to talk her way out of it with her pretty smile and nice clothes.

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” she screamed, as two other figures moved into the dim light beside the first one.

They were all clothed in hooded black robes tied with red silk belts. The first figure, the one who had touched her, must have been the leader as that robe didn’t match the others.

“We are The Brethren of the Blood.”

That didn’t sound good at all. In fact, that sounded bad.

REAL BAD. “What do you want with me?” she asked, scared out of her mind. The last thing that she remembered was a sharp pain in the back of her head, and then…

She woke.

Naked.

Bound.

And in big trouble.

“We’re here to cleanse the sins which are suffocating our town.”

Sissy glared at the figures who were moving into a circle around the table that she was resting on. The tears came as she pleaded for her life.

“I’ll do anything if you let me go. Please! This has to be some kind of mistake. You have the wrong person!”

“No, Sissy, we have the right one. You’re a vile example of humanity, and we’re here to fix what’s broken.”

Suddenly, the words registered. “What do you mean cleanse? How are you going to do that?”

“We’ll make you our offering, purifying the town of the first sin.” They began moving around her, touching her naked flesh with their chilly hands.

“Please,” she begged.

At the contact, the bound woman began getting more agitated. Her face was etched with desperation.

And yet, they paid her no mind.

Sissy began to struggle, pulling at the bonds holding her to the table. She knew she needed to fight.

“There’s no use in struggling. We’ll do what needs to be done, and then make our offering.”

Reality hit as Sissy finally understood what they were going to do to her. In the back of her mind, the logical part of her brain was warning her of what was to come. The confusion was finally overcome, and now it demanded she flee.

“What…are…you…” She didn't get to finish.

The maniacal laughter was enough to tell the tale.

Sissy was going to be murdered.

“No, please! I’ll do whatever you want! Please don’t kill me!” The begging had escalated and was now more desperation than anything else.

More laughter emanated from the circle, as they moved closer to the woman. Her struggles only incited them, making the inevitable more enticing to them.

The first figure began opening the red robe as Sissy stared in horror, shocked to see who lay beneath the hood.

It couldn’t be!

There was no conceivable way that what she was seeing was true.

“Oh, God, no,” she whispered at the thought of what was about to happen.

“It’s too late to call his name now.”

The other two joined in with laughter.

Looking up into the face, it was completely void of any emotion. It was as if there was no concept that what was coming was wrong.

One by one, they each undid their robes.

Horrifyingly, they were all familiar. Sissy knew each of them personally.

Trying to get their sympathy, she gazed into each set of eyes and pleaded her case. “No! Why me?” she asked. “I never did anything to hurt you!”

Her words fell on deaf ears as they moved toward her naked body.

Sissy started to scream, praying that someone would hear and rescue her. Before long, Sissy could feel something being stuffed into her mouth. It was then taped shut with a large piece of duct tape.

Her body reacted. Immediately, she began gagging as the tears stung her eyes.

“Hood her,” said the first figure, picking up a shiny silver blade. The intent was to let Sissy Parker see it as her final memory in this world. From the look on her face, as the hood was drawn over her features, it did what it was intended to do.

There was nothing but fear present as the end came closer.

Sinners needed to pay.

Sissy tried to cry out in pain, as the razor sharp knife began tearing through her body. From the motions, she could feel something being carved into her flesh.

The blackness surrounded her, as what little she could see swam in swirls. It was coming to swallow her.

Her only thought was how grateful she was that once in the abyss, she wouldn’t feel any more agony.

As the three cloaked figures stood around Sissy’s body, they began the long awaited ritual. It was now underway.

The Brethren had deemed her life forfeited.

She was unclean.

Sissy was the first one chosen.

There were words spoken over her as blood rushed, gushed, and spilled on the ground.

As it coated her body, the room was heavily tinged with the scent of copper pennies. The only thing lingering there, which was more powerful, was the silence.

In absence of all talking, one message was clear.

It was just the beginning, and they enjoyed every second of what they had just done.

This was power.

This was strength.

This was… perfect.

When the ritual had ended, they moved Sissy’s barely live body to the field out past Walker’s Point.

They found the perfect spot and laid her in the grass.

Who knew how long it would take the law to find her body? Yet, if it was meant to be, it would happen.

The leader of the group pulled the black hood from Sissy’s head and stared down at the wide-eyed look on her face. It was quite obvious that she had greatly suffered.

Now, it was time to end it. With one slice to her neck, the blood trickled out and sickly coated the message.

With a gasp, she struggled for her last breath, as her life ebbed away.

This woman fought for life, every step of the way.

For that, they were grateful.

Stepping back, the three stared down at their masterpiece and admired their handiwork.

Sissy Parker may have been the first one to die, but practice didn't have to make perfect.

They had done it to the letter of their law.

At first there was worry about making a mistake, but that had long since passed. Their only hope was, as the next ones came to them, that they too, would each be just as special.

No one said anything as they turned to leave.

Each of the three were living in the moment, in their own way, and committing this night to memory.

Everything had changed, and now there was no turning back to what used to be.

As they left the beautiful woman alone in the wet grass, the next mission would be to head home and climb into their warm beds. There was nothing but pure unadulterated satisfaction filling them. Hopefully, they would each be able to sleep, despite the adrenaline still surging over a job well done.

This sacrifice was going down in the books.

With one glance back, the moon eerily shone down on the destroyed life of Sissy Parker. Even from where they stood, the final ominous word was visible.

Each saw ‘PRIDE’, carved grotesquely into her chest, and they were jubilant.

Now, everyone would see her for her true sin.

There would be no doubt as to what had caused her death.

This was on her, and it was only beginning.

About the Author: Morgan Kelley lives in the beautiful Pocono Mountains with her husband and two children. After attending college at Penn State University and studying Criminal Justice, Morgan knew her only true passion in life would be murder and books.

She put them both together and began her career as a writer. Other than books and writing, you can find Morgan hanging out in her garden and digging in the dirt.

Her other works include: The Junction, Serial Sins, The Blood Betrayal, The Killing Times (1), Sacred Burial Grounds (2), True Love Lost (3), Deep Dark Mire (4), Fire Burns Hot (5), Darkness of Truth (6), Devil Hath Come (7), Consumed by Wrath (8), Redemption is Here (9), Dead Shall Speak (10), Blood Red Rage (1) Lost & Broken (2), Unthinkable Games (3), Celestia is Falling (1), Vegas is Dying (2), Christmas is Killing (3), Love is Bleeding (4), Heaven is Weeping (5), Dangerous Revelations (1), Illegal Fantasies (Anthology 1), Romance Under Arrest (Anthology 2), and Holiday Reinforcements (Anthology 3) Please feel free to visit Morgan at her website: www.morgankelley.com or visit her blog at www.morgankelley.blogspot.com

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2993043.Morgan_Kelley

http://www.amazon.com/Morgan-Kelley/e/B001KHAQ10/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-MorganKelley/302609053207268

What is Literary Fiction versus Commercial Fiction?

By Princess Fumi Hancock Fiction is often described as a visionary work of prose, either as a novel, a short story, or a novella. Nonfiction works have also been included in this definition, making the field broader.

There are two types of fiction and they are Literary and Commercial.

(1) Literary Fiction: appeals more to a small, more intellectual and adventurous readers. While it may come under different genre, what makes it unique and sets it apart from other types of fiction work is its quality of writing. It’s originality, and style of writing in particular the trend of thought od the writer makes it a palatable fiction one to pick above others. Examples of authors who have written literary fiction include (but not limited to) Baul Bellow and Toni Morrison.

(2) Commercial Fiction: on the other hand attracts a boarder base of readers. It too may fall into several subgenres. Examples of which include my very favorite romantic suspense and thrillers. Examples of authors who have enjoyed this category are Danielle Steele, Jackie Collins and John Grisham.

Publishers and booksellers describe both categories (Literary & Commercial) as mainstream fiction. This is such because these books mimic life, which is familiar to the readers. In addition, they are usually set in the present century and are often anchored to themes, which mirror life, as the readers know it.

Above all, there are genres, which are specifically geared to a particular group of people. This genre fiction includes the following: Romance, Science fiction/fantasy, Suspense/thriller, Women’s fiction, Horror, Young Adult, and Mystery.

To be a great writer, it is pivotal that you understand which genre your work most fit. This will set a tone for your expertise.

The following are great resources for finding out more: Agent Query.com – The Largest free database of literary agents http://www.agentquery.com/genre_descriptions.aspx The Writing Place – Tips on Techniques http://thewritingplace.wordpress.com/2009/10/26/what-do-they-mean-commercial-fiction-and-literary-fiction/

Of Sentimental Value Princess Fumi Hancock Genre: Mystery / Romantic Suspense Publisher: Princess in Suburbia Date of Publication: July 17, 2014 ISBN-10: 0990584801 ISBN-13: 978-0990584803 ASIN: B00LX2GK8K Number of pages: 328 Word Count: 68, 183 Cover Artist: Phatpuppy Arts Studios

Book Description: One event Elects Who You Are One event Molds Your Values and Beliefs; One event Charts the Course of Your Journey… Good, Bad or Indifferent; One event Determines Your Destiny… For Life One event Will Change Your Life… Forever Bestselling Author, Indiefest and African Oscar Award Winning Filmmaker, Host of an African Oscar nominated TV Talk show, An African Heritage Leadership Award recipient and a globally sought after transformation interventionist, Princess Fumi Hancock delivers an inspirational and intriguing romantic suspense story, yet laced in mystery and comedy. Of Sentimental Value, a titillating and jaw dropping adventure set between the deep rich forest of Africa and the southern flat plains of Nashville, Tennessee.

A Twenty-one year old, Young African Immigrant, SIBERIA TONKA has all the ingredients of a successful writer: Commitment, dedication, and drive to become famous. Until her dream of becoming the next bestselling media sensation in America is threatened by an inexplicable cosmic force! Buried and spiraling in unsurmountable debt and a string of misfortune hovering over her, she is forced to pawn her most valuable possession. But when told her sister’s life in Africa hangs in the balance and that would die if artifact is not returned back to the rightful owners, Siberia in desperation sets out to retrieve the artifact at any means necessary. A Mystery enigma is released and the stakes are high! The harder Siberia tries… the closer she seems yet the farther she was from solving the turmoil.

Alas, in the midst of this chaos evolves an undeniably love triangle between Siberia, a wealthy rugged-looking African, but Nashville-based, art collector (Alan) and a simple American consignment store owner (Jake).

Will Siberia retrieve the artifact in time to save her dying sister, Naiya? Who / what wins her heart? Money or True Love?

Book Available at Amazon

Book Trailer Produced by Cambium Break Pictures http://youtu.be/6Nfpf3S_aGE

Of Sentimental Value Motion Picture Release 2015

Starring Malik Yoba, New York Undercover and Tyler Perry's Why Did I Get Married? and Tommy Tiny Lister, Deebo on Friday, 5th Element with Bruce Willis.

VIP Screenings and Private Book Launches in Los Angeles, California and Nashville, Tennessee Nashville Award Winning Filmmaker Princess Fumi Hancock shares clip of SOLD OUT " Live" Nashville TN Red Carpet Event: http://youtu.be/s0LlaKZyI7Y Video Reviews Miss Haiti International, RĂŠgine Pierre Shares Her Review of, Of Sentimental Value: http:// youtu.be/21hlsgE81lQ

Los Angeles Of Sentimental Value VIP Movie Screening and Book Launch Raving Reviews Bring Producer to Tears! http://youtu.be/4VwnYXNAoHI LA welcomes Red Carpet Screening of Award Winner, Of Sentimental Value http://youtu.be/D4HlAjuwJEE The Video Reviews Award Winning Filmmaker, Princess Fumi Hancock Shares a “Kairos Moment” with Host, Lola Ogunleye Reviewing Of Sentimental Value http://youtu.be/417hPzsQ4C4 Gift Items Available at: http://www.ofsentimentalvalue.com/?deeplink_referrer=ess#!cambium-break-shop/c1seb Excerpt: Murky Haze Spiraling through the murky haze is a stream of white smoke; Africa’s humid and gloomy weather punctuated the striking of an African “bata” drum; a sign of impending doom in this Never-never land called Oyo, set majestically in the flat plain fields of West Africa.

Wrapped in ruffled white sheets and face painted with pungent white chalk, distinct tribal marks from Oyo; she chuckles and giggles out loud, sometimes overpowering the African “bata” beats rippling the air.

This enigma of a mystery woman’s deep tones carries with it an air of danger and magic. Her fiendish chuckles are exaggerated by her threatening mannerisms. She adds to the mystery in the air by thrusting out her spectacularly painted arms, holding a uniquely designed African clay pot filled with bubbling steaming water. The steam spiraling out of the magical pot is hypnotic. She begins to laugh again as the rhythmic African beat gently fades, instantly replaced by an urgent tick-tock sound, intensifying the anxiety. Seeing my clandestine woman’s animated and daunting striking face, Yemoji becomes boisterous as she squints her overpowering eyes; eyeballs fiercely protruding, eliciting intense fear in those who behold the strange sight.

As the tick-tock sound gets louder, Yemoji abruptly clutches her magical pot to her bosom. Her arms stretch out with purpose, displaying her remarkably long claw-like nails. She beckons me closer. Yemoji welcomes hushes me into undeniably captivating presence, placing one finger to her sultry lips.

“Sshh! Sshh!”

Suddenly, the tick-tock sound intensifies yet again as Yemoji’s thunderous and wickedly cold laughter reverberates into the atmosphere.

“Did you hear me? I said.... Sshh! Sshh! Siberia! Si-be-ria!”

Wisdom Nugget from Siberia Tonka: “A person who sows love reaps a harvest of good friends and family. It doesn’t really matter where we come from; we all have something of sentimental value. And this crazy chain of events has led me to my destiny….it has led me to fight for the people I love” ~Siberia

About the Author Princess Fumi Stephanie Hancock Ph.D.:

Bestselling Author, NAFCA African Oscar People’s Choice Winner, Indiefest Films Merit Award Filmmaker, TV Host, Transformation Interventionist and Philanthropist are just a few accolades to describe this dynamic woman.

Born in the heart of Nigeria, Lagos State; Princess Fumi Hancock was raised to appreciate her royal roots from the South Western region of Nigeria, Emure Kingdom, where her family, the Adumori Nigeria Royal Household have ruled since the 1800s’.

After acquiring her first degree in English from one of the most prestigious colleges in Nigeria, Obafemi Awolowo University; she stormed the United States of America with a pen, a script and the dream to change the world. Little did she know that it would take her over thirty years to finally fulfill her dream of becoming a prolific writer and most importantly, one who would have the ability to translate her literary works into movies.

As an author, she has written several inspirational books for women, Beyond Idol Worship: A Diary of an African Warrior Princess; Starting Right Now to name a few! After writing these inspirational books and her return back to African after over 25 years absentia; she reaches out to help her community through her US based nonprofit organization, Adassa Adumori Foundation, Inc. (www.adassafoundation.org); she also decided to venture into the world of young adult fantasy. To her surprise, her very first young adult fantasy, The Adventures of Jewel Cardwell: Hydra’s Nest became an amazon bestseller! There has been no stopping her since then.

Her new novel, Of Sentimental Value, a mystery and suspense drama is yet another landmark for her. The book was made into a feature film which is scheduled for release soon (www.ofsentimentalvaluemovie.com ). In the advent of its release, it has garnered multiple award interest. It was nominated in the NAFCA African Oscar Peoples’ Choice category for Favorite Trailer and Original Score while the Princess took home the winning trophy as Favorite Screenwriter. Since then, the movie itself has been nominated in the following categories: Best Diaspora Drama and Best Make-up. One of our supporting actors, Malik Yoba was also nominated as Actor in Foreign Film category.

Princess Fumi is one who truly believes that dreams do come true if we keep plugging away at it and never give up! Her very first crack at writing, she will never forget her professor at a college in New York telling her, “you need to quit! You are a horrible writer!” “I was devastated,” she said. But did not allow that to keep her down. With time, even the professor finally announced to the post graduate class that she was the best student he’d ever had. That screenplay, “The Royal Bird” ended up winning Best Screenplay of the year in 1988 in a New York festival. It was later auctioned to one of the largest television stations in Africa, Nigerian Television Authority (NTA). The rest of her time today is spent presenting her new empowerment program, Your Vision Torch, an Innovator’s Prescription to Igniting Your Dreams and Harnessing Your Vision to leaders, business owners and women across Africa and the United States of America. More details on how to bring her to your event: www.worldoffumihancock.com

How Self-Publishing is Keeping Reading Alive and What You Can Do To Help

by Alex Manea In a world where fewer and fewer people read books, a decade ago, a miracle happened. Or, as the skeptical might call it, a technological breakthrough: the invention of the e-reader and the birth of the modern e-book. This led to another important stepping stone, self-publishing.

I come from a country where the majority of the population stopped reading. Here, only 1-2% of the population read anymore and selling 5000 copies make a book a bestseller. It's bad and it's happening all over the world. People simply stopped reading. It's easier and more entertaining to just read a tabloid newspaper or magazine instead. The effect? Fewer and fewer new writers are getting published and thus the chances of a new Asimov or Tolkien being discovered have greatly diminished.

A game changer surfaced a few years back, a new hope for all those aspiring new writers: selfpublishing and the e-book reader. This is a great opportunity for all aspiring writers who up until this point had almost no chance of being discovered. Now hundreds of thousands of aspiring writers are self-publishing their books, with hundreds, or even thousands, of new books appearing each day.

Yes, some of the books are bad, but there are a lot of great writers out there, just waiting to be discovered.

They've done all they could: spent countless hours in front of the keyboard to write the best story they could and hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars on editing, formatting and advertising. All they can do is pray and hope.

Hope that you answer their prayers, because only you can. Only you have the power to help them.

How? Buy their books. Read their books. And if you like them, tell your friend about each and every new writer, you discover and urge them to read the books as well. It might not seem much, but Most self-published books are cheap. So next time you're not exactly sure that you want to read the newest novel by an established author, use that money to buy some self-published books. I say some because with the same money you can buy at least 5 self-published books, even as many as 15. Think about how many people you can help this way.

Mortal Gods Forgotten Pantheon Book 1 Alex Manea Genre: Urban Fantasy ISBN: 9781311240422 ASIN: B00N0I2Z8O Number of pages: 183 Word Count: 45,400 Cover Artist: Ovidiu Stanciu Book Description: Heather, a young American girl, is visiting her college roommate, who now lives in Rome. While partying in a local nightclub, she's picked up by a man who looks like he was created in the image of a Greek god. Her initial impression is correct.

He’s one of the last surviving members of the Greek pantheon. After hooking up with him, Heather is forced to join the culmination of a two-millennium-long war between that pantheon and a clandestine sect of monks within the Catholic Church, itself led by perhaps the most infamous figure in Christian history.

Heather and Apollo embark on a world-spanning effort to collect what remains of the gods to engage in the final battle with the monks opposing them. But the fate of the battle is changed by the intervention of a mysterious military organization…

Available at Amazon BN Kobo Excerpt Immediately after waking up, the body’s first reaction is to open its eyes, but this wasn't the case with Heather, at least not this time. She knew something bad had happened to her and keeping her eyes closed gave her a fake feeling of safety. When she came back to her senses, she didn't know if she had been out for ten minutes or ten hours or even whether she was in the same place. What woke her was a strange voice whispering close to her. Her last memory was of walking with Apollo to his car. Then he started acting really strange and pushed her.

Was this his plan all along? Or did something else happen?

Her dark thoughts were interrupted by the strange voice. Heather perked her ears. It wasn't Apollo, she concluded. She couldn’t understand what the voice was saying but she knew it wasn't English.

Her ears finally caught something vaguely familiar.

“In nomine Patris et Filli et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.”

Latin. It's a prayer. Someone is saying a prayer. Maybe I'm in a church.

The drop of water that hit her forehead startled her and brought back the memory of Martin, the sexual predator who’d kidnapped her when she was a child. She’d been rescued before he could molest her, but he’d woken her just like this, with drops of water to her forehead. Since then, having water dropped on her forehead was the thing she hated and feared most in her life. Once she’d fallen asleep outside and a rain drop had fallen on her. Another time, a college friend had done it as a joke.

Each time, Heather woke up screaming and crying, with images of Martin flashing through her mind.

Heart racing, Heather quickly opened her eyes, only to see Martin standing over her.

No it can’t be him. Martin is dead. He was executed a long time ago.

She blinked and when she opened her eyes the second time, Martin was gone. Instead, a bald man appeared in front of her. He was chanting the same prayer over and over again. His left hand was right above her head, holding a small bottle, which looked just like the ones flight attendants serve. It was tilted slightly and with every “Amen” spoken, the man let a drop of liquid fall on Heather's forehead. As it hit her skin, the liquid mixed with the blood from the cut on her forehead, oozing over her nose and eyes. Heather wanted to move, to get up and run away, but the fear paralyzed her.

The strange man had no reaction when she opened her eyes. He remained still and kept staring right at her, chanting, like he was hypnotized.

“In nomine Patris et Filli et Spiritus Sancti, Amen,” he repeated.

But he stopped before dropping the liquid on her forehead with the ‘Amen’.Then, she heard a muffled sound and blood started dripping from the man’s opened mouth right on Heather's face. He collapsed next to Heather, his head hitting the asphalt near her left ear. In the few seconds of perfect silence that followed, she couldn't hear him breathe. He was dead. Heather started screaming. The loud noise filled up the narrow dark alley. Out of the same darkness, a man’s silhouette appeared in front of her. Before she could realize who it was, he had his hand pressed tightly against her mouth.

“Be quiet,” Apollo said as he looked beyond the dumpster like he was searching for something.

A muzzled sound came from her mouth.

“Are you okay?”

Heather shook her head.

“Listen to me very carefully,” he continued while his hand was still pressed against her mouth. “Your life is in danger. If you want to get out of here alive, you have to do what I say, when I say it. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“I'm going to take my hand off your mouth, but you have to stop screaming.”

She nodded again.

Apollo removed his hand. Heather didn't make a sound. She looked left, at the dead man lying next to her. Just as she did, his hand twitched. Heather screamed again. This time, her own hand covered her mouth.

“Here's what I want you to do,” Apollo said, his green eyes glinting in the faint light.“When I say 'now',

run to the car, get into the passenger seat and put the key into the ignition. Stay as low as possible.

I'll be right behind you.”

“What if you don't make it?”

“If I don't, neither do you,” he replied with a calm voice.

He peeked over the dumpster.

“You ready?”

He handed her the car keychain and she nodded.

“Now!” Apollo stepped out from behind the dumpster and started shooting in the direction they came from.

Heather got up and started running straight to the car. She got in and, as instructed, placed the key into the ignition. She curled up on the seat and waited. The few seconds she waited seemed like minutes. Heather moved her head between the front seats to see what was happening behind her.

Apollo was moving slowly toward the car, his back to it, shooting down the alley. When he emptied his clip, he ran and got into the driver’s seat. He reloaded his gun, dropping the empty clip on the floor of the car, and placed it in his lap.

“Who was—?”

Before Heather finished her sentence, a bullet came out of the darkness, shattering the rear window. The bullet missed Apollo's head by inches and exited the car through the windshield, cracking it.

Heather screamed again, this time without bothering to cover her mouth.

About the Author: Alex Manea is a Romanian journalist and writer, author of the Urban Fantasy novel Mortal Gods, the first book of the Forgotten Pantheon series. Alex is a big mythology buff, especially Greek, this being the source of inspiration behind the novel. Alex is currently working on the second novel of the series.

Web: http://forgottenpantheon.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/AlexManea/712543075478967 Twitter: https://twitter.com/authormanea

Santa for the Holidays- Hire Santa for your Mid-Michigan Christmas Events Santa sightings Want your kids to catch a glimpse of Santa with a sack full of gifts?

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Excerpt: Matilda sat at her old wooden desk, staring into the thick yellowed pages of a book under a dull moth ridden beam cast by the night lamp. But every time she blinked, it seemed as if the words had played a round of musical chairs. And the moths, fluttering through the words at times and hovering over them at others, did not make things any easier.

Matilda was about to turn the page when there was a tug at her feet. It was a very gentle one, almost imperceptible. Surprised, she glanced down, but there was nothing. Perhaps it’s just my imagination, she thought.

She was about to shake her thick dark brown curls out of her face when she felt it again.

Matilda pushed her head down and looked into the dark void with furrowed brow. Her skinny legs stared back. But before she could decide on whether she had actually felt anything, there was another tug, an unmistakable one this time. And another one. The truth suddenly dawned upon Matilda. It was her shadow, trying to drag her into itself.

Matilda jerked back the chair, kicking hard at her shadow. But it snapped back, pulling at her even more viciously. She stomped upon it repeatedly. But the dark grey shape began jabbing at her feet and ankles. Matilda pushed herself up and made a frantic attempt to run. But her legs refused to move, and she almost toppled forward.

All this while, Matilda’s shadow had been growing larger and larger. Suddenly, it lunged out of the ground and swallowed her, like a python does its unsuspecting prey.

Sceadu Prashant Pinge Genre: YA fantasy fiction Date of Publication: Nov 10, 2014 ASIN: B00NVCV0I0

Number of pages: 246 Word Count: About 70,000 Cover Artist: Reptile FX Book Description: All this while, Matilda’s shadow had been growing larger and larger. Suddenly, it lunged out of the ground and swallowed her, like a python does its unsuspecting prey.

Nine year old Matilda ends up with a century old book through a series of strange coincidences. And disappears. Her brother and cousins are forced to suspend their hostilities and pursue her to Sceadu, a land inside the human shadow. Once there, the reluctant visitors find themselves chased by the vicious Hefigans, creatures of Sceadu. However, everything changes with the revelation of an ancient prophecy that foretells the doom of the world they left behind.

With the stakes suddenly raised, the children must now navigate the dangerous terrain, overcome grave challenges, and unlock the secrets of the shadow. But can they do it in time to thwart the plans of the treacherous Hefigans? Or will they succumb to the guile of a ruthless enemy who is equally determined to destroy mankind?

Sceadu is a fast-paced adventure which blurs the boundary between the physical and the psychological, the real and the mythical.

Available at Amazon Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/BIQHTbekS8Y About the Author: Prashant Pinge was born and brought up in the picturesque neighbourhood of Shivaji Park in the bustling city of Mumbai in India.

A quiet and diligent student throughout his schooling and college years, Prashant proceeded to pursue electrical engineering at Purdue University in the United States. Over the next decade, he accumulated three more degrees, a master of science in management from Lancaster University, a post graduate program in management from Indian School of Business, and a post MBA master in international management from Thunderbird School of Global Management.

Apart from enjoying the company of books, Prashant had always had an imaginative bent of mind. But writing only happened in the fall of 2003, when a remarkably intriguing dream interrupted an uncharacteristically deep spell of slumber, compelling him to stagger to his desk and pen down the idea. That book is still a few years away from being written. Prashant, however, continues to work from his cauldron of creativity and churn out critically acclaimed works of fiction.

In addition to his literary pursuits, Prashant is Managing Partner in his marketing and branding firm, Media Panther. In his spare time, Prashant enjoys collecting old coins, reading fiction, travelling to exotic destina-

tions, watching movies, and listening to music. He recently wrote and produced a short film titled Freedom of Expression. Prashant is also keenly interested in the subjects of psychology, mythology and ancient history.

Prashant lives with his wife and son in Mumbai.

Author website - http://prashantpinge.com Blog - http://prashantpinge.com/blog Author Facebook page - http://facebook.com/PrashantPingeAuthor Sceadu Facebook page - http://facebook.com/SceaduTheBook Twitter page - http://twitter.com/prashantpinge LinkedIn page - http://in.linkedin.com/in/prashantpinge Google+ page - http://plus.google.com/+PrashantPinge Goodreads page - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8393378.Prashant_Pinge

Undead Obsessed: Finding Meaning in Zombies Jessica Robinson Genre: Nonfiction, pop culture Publisher: Booktrope Date of Publication: October 31, 2014 ISBN: ISBN-10: 1620155923 ISBN-13: 978-1620155929 Number of pages: 202 Cover Artist: Greg Simanson Book Description: Jessica Robinson's obsession with zombie films started when she was in junior high. Horror films are a great lens to examine concerns society has about modern science. Let’s face it, when it comes to horror movies, science has a bad reputation. Blind ambition, experimental serums, and genetic experiments are often blamed for the giant monster terrorizing the city or the reason aliens are taking human prisoners or the cause of the dead rising from the grave to consume living flesh.

Using film, literature, and interviews with experts, Robinson examines how zombies portray real-world fears such as epidemics, mind control, what may or may not exist in space, the repercussions of playing God, and the science behind the fears. Robinson's goal is to explore how zombies become a metaphor for our fears of science and what could happen if science gets out of hand.

Available at Amazon About the Author: Jessica Robinson is an editor by day and a zombie-killer by night (at least in her books). Since the first time she watched Night of the Living Dead, she has been obsessed with zombies and often thinks of ways to survive the uprising.

In addition to her nonfiction book, under the pen name Pembroke Sinclair, she has written YA novels about zombies and the tough teens who survive the apocalyptic world. She has also written nonfiction stories for Serial Killer Magazine and published a book about slasher films called Life Lessons from Slasher Films.

You can learn more about Jessica by visiting her at http:// pembrokesinclair.blogspot.com/ http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3522214.Pembroke_Sinclair http://www.facebook.com/#!/pembroke.sinclair

Excerpt: Paulette’s attention fixed upon a black, flat-topped trunk with silver hinges and hasp. It hunkered in front of the mannequin as though daring her to approach. She straightened her back, one hand automatically shielding her unborn baby, and made her way across the room until she stopped before the ebony container. She shook off her reluctance to touch it, since she needed to move it to reach the dummy. Grasping the handles, she pulled, but it didn’t budge. She tugged again but barely succeeded in shifting it an inch. What weighed so much in such a small trunk? Leaning down, she slowly raised the hasp and then the lid until the meager illumination in the room enabled her to peek inside.

She lifted a packet of newspapers tied together with a satin ribbon. Peering closer, she determined they dated from the 1940s. Not ancient, after all. Not like the letters and journals from the mid-1800s found in other trunks. Still, old enough. Beneath the papers, a large maroon leather book nestled among men’s suits and trousers. She spotted an aged white cravat and matching formal shirt, fingering the silky material with delight. Silks and satins speared delight through her soul. Their textures and sounds blended into a symphony of pleasure. She grabbed the heavy book and hauled it from its nesting place, intent on reaching the luxurious fabrics.

The leather warmed in her hands as she focused on the decadent silk cravat. Searching for a safe place to deposit the book among the dusty boxes and trunks, her fingers tingled then began to burn as though touching a flame. Ouch. She jerked her hands apart then tried to catch the book before it dropped from her hands. When it collided with the hardwood floor, it fell open, its pages fluttering before settling on an illuminated text. The ornate drawing of a great horned owl poised to strike, beak open, talons ready to snare its prey, curled around fancy script words. She peered at the sheet, reluctant to touch the page after the previous singeing of her fingers, but curious as to the mysterious message. She read the poem silently, and then sounded it out loud, pondering the meaning.

“Before the father came the father.

“Return the one gone before.

“Restore the bygone to the present.

“This I ask and nothing more.”

“How strange.” She gingerly reached to retrieve the book and restore it to its proper place.

With a roar of wind, the door banged shut behind her, startling a gasp from her compressed lips. The pages fluttered and whipped. The packet of newspapers soared into the air, its ribbon untying in the chaos, allowing the sheets to fly around like crazed paper airplanes. Her jaw dropped open, a gasp followed by a woman keening in fear. Her voice. Stop it. Get a grip. She swallowed the growing terror. She whirled around, practically spinning like a ceiling fan on high as she tried to determine what caused the wind careening about the room. An eerie whine preceded what sounded like a wolf howling to the moon. She gulped, alarm sizzling down her spine.

Grizabella arched her back, and hissed at the commotion, ears flat, tail pointed to the ceiling. Paulette exhaled, her breath visible in the chilled room. She crossed her arms both to warm them and to protect her child.

Quiet fell along with the papers settling like oversized snowflakes. She blinked three times, trying to

erase the sight before her. But blinking didn’t work. She gaped at the tall, gray-bearded man in his impeccable suit and angled fedora. Gray highlighted his close-cropped black hair and matched his friendly eyes. He seemed vaguely familiar, yet she had never met him. Of that, she was certain. She’d remember him.

“What a surprise.” He reached toward her, palms up. “How can I help you, my dear?”

“Stay there.” She held out a hand, palm facing him, and backed up until her legs bumped against the open trunk.

Trapped, she had no escape but to move past the man. Or apparition. Or whatever. She swallowed the fear threatening to make itself known. Perhaps she should yell for Meredith. She would know what to do with this specter. So much for the ghosts of Twin Oaks resting peacefully. If only she’d never realized she could interact with spirits.

“Paulette, my precious, you needn’t fear your own grandfather.” He moved toward her, reaching for her.

“No.” Shaking her head, she held up both hands indicating for him to stay back. Then motioned for him to leave, shooing him as if he could fly away. Or dissolve into thin air. Which, of course, he probably could.

“Whoever you are, you don’t belong here. Go away.”

Grizabella growled and hissed from her spot near the wall. Hairs along her spine stood straight, revealing the depth of her dislike of the man’s presence.

“I was content where I was.”

“Then why did you come here? Wh-what do you want?” Paulette shivered and wrapped her arms about her waist to still their trembling. The move left her feeling more vulnerable by removing the sense of a barrier between her and the apparition.

He tilted his head and smiled, dropping one hand to his side. “More to the point, what do you want?

You summoned me.”

“If I did, it was an accident.” He must understand she had not meant to bring him from wherever he’d come from. Why did crap like this happen to her? Nothing in her life ever transpired as she intended. “Please, you must leave. You don’t belong here.”

“Now, that’s not true. I belong here more than you do, even. So let’s get acquainted, shall we? Then you can tell me why you called for me.”

When he started toward her, she screamed, her hands shielding her baby.

Remnants Ghosts of Roseville Book 2 Betty Bolté Genre: Paranormal Romance Publisher: Liquid Silver Books Date of Publication: October 27, 2014 Ebook: 978-1-62210-159-7 Paperback: 978-1-50248-107-8 ASIN: Number of pages: 331 Word Count: 70,800 Cover Artist: Lyn Taylor

Book Description: Paulette O’Connell is focused on building her costume and home decorating business in order to ensure a stable home for her unborn child. When she accidentally summons her grandfather’s ghost, he demands she needed him and must learn the reason before he’ll reveal how to banish him. Meanwhile, a sexy chemist desires her attention despite her refusal to act upon her heart’s desires. After all, following her heart only lands her in trouble.

Zak Markel journeys to Roseville in the desperate hunt for the missing ingredient for the Elixir of Life he hopes will save his brother’s eyesight and career. But he discovers more than he bargained for when his search turns up the gorgeous woman of his dreams, distracting him from his focus at the worst possible time, even though she staunchly refuses to allow him past her defenses.

Can he convince Paulette to open her mind to possibilities and follow her heart to true happiness before it’s too late?

About the Author: Betty Bolté writes both historical and contemporary stories featuring strong, loving women and brave, compassionate men. No matter whether the stories are set in the past or the present, she loves to include a touch of the paranormal. In addition to her romantic fiction, she’s the author of several nonfiction books and earned a Master’s in English in 2008. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Historical Novel Society, the Women’s Fiction Writers Association, and the Authors Guild.

Get to know her at www.bettybolte.com Blog: www.bettybolte.com/blog.htm Newsletter: www.bettybolte.com/newsletter.htm Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorBettyBolte Twitter: @BettyBolte Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/bettybolte Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/bettybolte9 Amazon: www.amazon.com/author/bettybolte

Paranormal Worlds and Secret Societies

By Kay Dee Royal My favorite genre to read and to write is erotic paranormal romance. There’s so much opportunity to turning a human world upside down, especially when humans are clueless to the possibility or probability there’s something more than their “kind” living and breathing among them.

I love creating a society / world unknown to the humans, but one that is always in plain sight if a person only focused. As busy as our world is today and as programmed as we are, and don’t forget committed to our sometimes crazy habits, who has time to notice anything out of the norm? Seriously, what are the chances?

The TV series, Grimm, is a good one for relating “other” worlds of beings living inside the human world…and humans aren’t in tuned enough to see them.

Creating these secret beings with their own unique abilities, rules / laws, hierarchies, ways of procreating, and ways of living with their own kind, along with living among human-kind, is almost like playing a “God-like” role. \ Holly Gets Darkly is an erotic paranormal short, a secret society living within the human race. I enjoyed researching the kindred beast / elusive creatures in my story as it helped in the development of the “paranormal beings.” Sort of like sitting around a witch’s caldron and throwing in a little of this and dash of that to come out with…Walla, a new kind of sexy shifterJ So, what’s your favorite shifter – or paranormal being – and why?

Holly Gets Darkly Wild Darkness Calls Kay Dee Royal Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance Publisher: Muse It HOT! Publishing Date of Publication: November 4, 2014

ISBN: 978-1-77127-614-6 ASIN: Number of pages: 38 Word Count: 10,000 Cover Artist: Shirley Burnett Tag: Holly discovers a whole new erotic world when confronted by the elusive cougar.

Book Description: Holly Preston, freelance nature photographer, gets lost in the dark and stranded in the forest on a mission to locate the elusive cougar for the shot of a lifetime.

Keyt Darkly, Forest Ranger, tracks her with more in mind than rescue.

She discovers cougars are nothing compared to what awaits her in a cabin hidden deep in the darkness…

Warning: Sizzling Hot, M/F, F/F, M/M, M/F/M, multiple partners, anal play, and ultra-arousing sex About the Author: Kay Dee Royal writes paranormal, fantasy, and contemporary erotic romance—maybe because they’re also her favorite genres to read! She pens tales with wild, rugged heroes and strong, intelligent heroines. She'll give them both a few shadowy secrets, making her stories intriguing and fun.

She resides in Southern Michigan with her family (her dog, her cats, her caged husband... you get the idea).

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kaydee.royal Twitter: http://twitter.com/kaydeeroyal GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/5227617-kay-deeroyal Blog: http://www.kaydeeroyal.blogspot.com