Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Book Blitz: Broken Dolls by BR Kingsolver

Broken Dolls Banner Tour 450 x 169_thumb[1]



clip_image002_thumb[1]Broken Dolls

BR Kingsolver

Genre: Urban Fantasy / Paranormal Suspense

ISBN: 9781301813568 (ePub)

Number of pages: 235

Word Count: 79,600

Cover Artist: Mia Darien

Book Description:

Private investigator RB Kendrick makes her living nailing cheating spouses, digging up other dirt to help in a divorce, finding long-lost relatives, and occasionally sniffing out criminal activity and fraud.

When she takes a job to find a missing girl, she has no idea she is headed for the most dangerous case of her career. Usually, her ability to read minds gives her an edge. But when the people she’s hunting are also telepaths, that advantage is limited.

The search takes her into the dark underbelly of telepathic society, where anything, and anyone, is for sale. She discovers that telepathic women and girls are being trafficked as the ultimate sex slaves.

With people trying to kill her, she’s on the run, not knowing who she can trust. Will she find the missing girl, or become a victim herself?


I walked into the restaurant to meet my prospective client, scanned the diners and slipped into the booth with her. She started to say something, then her eyes widened and nothing came out of her open mouth.

“Mrs. Sanders? I’m RB Kendrick,” I said, extending my hand.

“Oh, my,” she breathed. “The description you gave me is wholly inadequate.” She stared at me for a minute, then said, “Copper.”

Confused, I looked around. There weren’t any police in there. “Huh?” I said intelligently.

“Your hair. It’s not ginger, it’s like polished copper. It shines.”

Women notice different things than men. As I suspected from our conversation on the phone, Sylvia Sanders was a norm and so was her husband. What I read in her mind matched what she told me verbally. It’s so much easier when clients tell you the truth. I understood why she had suspicions about her husband. The changes in his behavior and schedule screamed other woman to me also.

“So what do you want, Mrs. Sanders? A report, photos, a confrontation? A basic report of what and who he is or is not doing will run a thousand pounds. Photos catching them in the act are another thousand, if I can get them. Unlike the telly, most people don’t conveniently provide evidence in front of windows with the shades open. If you want to confront him in the act, I’ll accompany you for an additional fifteen hundred pounds.”

She blanched at my rates.

“If what he’s doing isn’t obvious, and I have to put him under surveillance for an extended period, my rates are five thousand a week.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” she said with a quiver in her voice. She gave me a thousand and I wrote down all the pertinent information.

“I’ll check on it this afternoon. I’m going to be out of town for a few days,” I told her. “If I don’t find anything by tomorrow morning, I’ll call you when I get back.”

“Thank you, Miss Kendrick. This has been going on for several months. I don’t think it’s going to change.”

“Mrs. Sanders, you need to think about what you’re going to do if your suspicions are correct. Are you going to confront him and hope he ends it? Or do you plan to divorce him? It’s something you should decide before hand.”

“I want a divorce,” she said. “I know he’s cheating on me. He called a little while ago and told me he had to work late this evening.”


About The Author:

I made silver and turquoise jewelry for almost a decade, ended up in nursing school, then took a master’s in business. Along the way I worked in construction, as a newspaper editor, a teacher, and somehow found a career working with computers.
I love the outdoors, especially the Rocky Mountains. I’ve skied since high school, with one broken leg and one torn ACL to show for it. I’ve hiked and camped all my life. I love to travel. I’ve seen a lot of Russia and Mexico, not enough of England. Amsterdam is amazing, and the Romanian Alps are breathtaking. I was in Paris and Iceland this summer.

I have a very significant other, two cats and two Basset Hounds. I’m currently living in Baltimore, nine blocks from the harbor, but still own a home in New Mexico. 








Friday, October 18, 2013

Book Blitz: Silent Oath, Locked Within Trilogy Book Two by Paul Anthony Shortt



clip_image002Silent Oath
Locked Within Trilogy

Book Two

Paul Anthony Shortt

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: WiDo Publishing

Date of Publication: October 8th, 2013

ISBN: 978-1937178369

Number of pages: 300

Word Count: 80,000

Cover Artist: Steven Novak


Book Description:

Hope has returned to New York City. Nathan Shepherd leads a small band of dedicated fighters against the Council of Chains and the city's supernatural masters. But it's not enough. Because from the shadows of Nathan's former lives comes an old enemy, one who knows terrible secrets that Nathan has not yet remembered, secrets that could undo everything he has fought for.

Nathan's only chance to uncover the memories of his previous existence, and to conquer these new forces of evil, lies in Elena DeSantis. A woman he has fought beside in past lifetimes. A woman he has loved.

Together, Nathan and Elena are the only future the city has.


Nathan Shepherd opened his hooded coat and quietly drew his sword from its sheath. Scanning the doorways and rooftops for movement, he ventured through the alley, dark puddles rippling under his boots.

Nathan watched the doorways and windows for movement. The creature Nathan was hunting, a vampire named Garth, had been too greedy. The smiling face of a young woman was burned into Nathan’s memory, and the story of how her body was found, what had been done to her, buried in the corner of a newspaper like she didn’t matter. Vampires didn’t have to kill their victims, they just liked to. Garth would pay.

Someone screamed. Nathan followed the sound to a back street and took cover, stealing a quick glance around the corner. He saw two figures running. The lead was a small, rail-thin boy; late teens as far as Nathan could make out. He had a good head start on the pale, bald man hurtling along behind him. Even so far away, Nathan could make out the feral eyes and hear the snarls. That’s him. He lowered his sword and waited.

First the skinny kid ran past. Nathan counted a beat and swung his arm out from around the corner, clotheslining Garth. The vampire hit the ground. The boy he was chasing looked back, then tripped, careening into a trashcan.

“Evening, Garth.” Nathan stepped over him. “Been looking for you.”

The vampire wasted no time on words. He twisted and kicked Nathan’s legs out from under him before leaping to his feet and running toward the boy. Nathan pulled a small throwing knife from a slot in his leather utility harness and flicked it at Garth. The knife lodged in Garth’s back. He turned and snarled. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Good,” Nathan got to his feet. “I was beginning to worry I’d never get good at this.”

Garth sprinted down the alleyway. Nathan swept his sword in a low arc, cutting across Garth’s stomach as he passed. The vampire’s speed threw him off balance, and he let his guard drop. Garth lashed out with black claws across Nathan’s arm. The coat’s armored lining protected him from serious injury, but Garth followed up with two rapid punches to his face.

Tasting blood, Nathan thrust his sword out, running Garth through. He took Garth off his feet with a kick to the knee. Holding Garth down with his foot, Nathan lifted his sword and brought it down on Garth’s neck. It was not a clean cut, but it was enough.

The body began to dry up and broke apart into dust while Nathan backed away, taking in deep breaths. Sloppy. Too many mistakes. If Nathan didn’t get those under control they’d get him killed eventually. At least his hands didn’t shake afterward anymore.

Nathan turned to the boy that Garth had been chasing, who was still lying on the ground.

“You . . . ” The boy stood slowly. “You’re him, aren’t you?”

Nathan nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Eric.” The boy clutched a gray courier bag to his chest like his life depended on it.

“Why was the vampire after you, Eric?”

“He wanted my bag. I’m in the trade.”

The trade. It meant the boy wasn’t just aware of the supernatural; he was an active part of the hidden world. Probably someone’s apprentice.

“Where’s home?” Nathan asked. “Close?”

Eric nodded, “My dad’s store is half a block from here. Baum’s Curiosity Shop.”

“Get going.”

Eric began to go, but stopped and turned. “Thank you, sir.”

Nathan nodded a goodbye and closed his coat again before making his way out of the back streets.

Would my parents be proud of me? It wasn’t the first time Nathan Shepherd had wondered that over the last nine months. His mother, Louise, had taught him to look out for those in need. Strength isn’t in your fists, she used to say, it’s in the way people take care of each other. His father, Mike, was a firefighter. He’d spent his life saving people. While Nathan could recall any moment in his life with perfect accuracy, the image of his dad, tall and broad-shouldered, walking out the door in his uniform, held a special place in his heart. The first hero a little boy ever had. The one person he could always rely on to save the day. After being injured by a vampire named Eli, Mike had chosen to save Nathan instead of getting himself to a hospital. He died while Nathan was fighting a soul eater, a monster that fed on the essence of mortals.

I never got to say goodbye.

His coat pulled at him in the light spring breeze. It had taken him five nights to track this one down. The Council of Chains had started to get cautious. Although it made his work more difficult, it meant they were starting to be afraid.

I’ve saved lives. That would make his father proud, wouldn’t it?

Nathan picked up some coffee on the way back to his truck, a dark green four-door flatbed pickup. He may have gotten over the shaking hands, but the hollow feeling in his stomach and brief dizzy spells told him his adrenaline was wearing off. He checked the time. Ten fifty-five. The coffee warmed Nathan’s throat as he drained the cup. He scanned the streets before climbing into the truck and starting the engine. No matter which station Nathan turned to, the radio announced increased gang violence. He really needed to get his hands on a police scanner. Mainstream media could only provide so many leads on supernatural attacks. Let the gang members kill each other. The cops could handle that themselves. Nathan had more specialized concerns.

Live jazz music flowed into the street as Nathan pulled up outside Hook and Ladder. His father, Mike, had dreamed of opening this place. Nathan waved to Sam Kinnon, a tall man with short blonde hair, tidy stubble, and shirtsleeves rolled up over thick-muscled arms.

Sam’s father had been a friend of Mike’s from his old fire fighter company. After an encounter with a vampire one night when they were closing up, Nathan revealed the truth about the supernatural world, and Sam admitted that he’d dreamed about past lives too.

“Done?” Sam leaned in to the car window.

“Garth’s dead. I’ll let the family know tomorrow. How’re we doing?”

“Business is good. The more vampires and ghouls you kill, the more folk feel safe here. But the Council sent people out again.”


“Some bruiser named Lucius.”

Lucius was a vampire. Nathan knew him by reputation only, but he had become the head enforcer for New York’s official ruler, Vincent Dorian.

“They’re sniffing close, boss. We need to be careful.”

Nathan rubbed his eyes. “I just need the support of a few more outside conclaves. Then they won’t be able to touch us.”

“They can kill you for this, can’t they?”

“Violating the treaty? They can do worse than that, if they have proof.”

The East Coast Treaty forbade reborn from entering the city. Nathan was free to stay because he hadn’t been involved in the war fought against the Council over fifteen years ago, but inviting others to New York was treading dangerous ground. Even employing Sam was technically a violation.

“You coming in?” Sam shifted uneasily as he changed the subject. “Band is good. You’d like them.”

Nathan shook his head. “Not tonight. I want to get some rest. Big day tomorrow. After the funeral I’ve also got to meet the people from New Orleans.”

“I thought Chicago was tomorrow?”

“No, their guy canceled.”

“Again? That’s the third time this month.”

“Apparently Chicago’s a busy town. Someone named Murphy is meant to fill me in when they get a chance.”

“All right. I’d better get back to work. See you later.” Sam went inside. Seeing the people through the doorway, drinking and dancing together, Nathan realized how long it had been since he’d had a night off. The band was playing an Artie Shaw cover. Sam was right; they were good.

Nathan parked his truck in the small lot tucked behind the bar and took two large sports bags out from under the tarp in the back.

The second-floor apartment had an external entrance up a winding set of metal stairs that rattled as Nathan climbed them. He’d been meaning to get them looked at for a while.

Inside the apartment was well kept. The previous tenant had decorated it with light earth tones and left behind several comfortable couches and a bed. Nathan stepped in to a small hallway that led to the stairs on his left and the door into the main room on his right. The main room spread out in a wide open plan with a kitchen area and breakfast bar in the far corner opposite the doors for the bathroom and bedroom. Bookshelves lined the wall, containing collections of novels and arcane texts Nathan had sourced from occult dealers. On one shelf, over a stereo and sitting between Mike’s jazz CDs and Nathan’s collection of classic rock, sat a small frame. Inside the frame rested the medal Mike had been awarded for rescuing half a dozen people from a burning building. Mike had been severely burned in the incident, forcing him into early retirement.

Nathan set his bags down next to the standing maps and charts arranged around his computer desk before hanging his coat on a hook on the wall.

Nathan left his sword propped against the wall. An ancient weapon he’d wielded in more than one lifetime, the hilt was decorated with the stylized image of a phoenix surrounded by flames. He left his leather utility harness on an armchair and went to the bathroom to check on his arm.

A gray reflection looked back at him in the mirror. Black marks hung under his dark blue eyes. Sleep hadn’t exactly been a major priority for a while. Just something he did as needed between patrolling the streets and looking for his next target. At least the broken nose he’d suffered fighting that ogre a few months ago had set well. His nose hadn’t lost its smooth line, angled like a hawk. A haircut might have been in order. His russet mop was far too unruly when allowed to grow out. And he needed to shave.

Nathan rubbed his eyes and took some antiseptic ointment from the medicine cabinet before removing his light long-sleeved t-shirt. The shirt was ripped a little, but he could patch it later. His coat would need some repair work too. It was already starting to look like the skin of Frankenstein’s monster, but the padding in the lining had saved his life several times. Nathan hated seeing the coat get damaged though. It had belonged to his father. Of course, that was before members of the underground-dwelling people known as The Lost had modified it for him, adding secret pockets and armor.

The cuts on his arm were light and had already stopped bleeding. Still, he wiped them down with some antiseptic, ignoring the sting. With that done, Nathan checked on the thick stripe of reddened, waxy flesh between his neck and right shoulder. The memento of a vampire bite that was treated both to purge the venom and to remove the scent of the vampire that had bitten him. Eli. Every time he looked at the scar he saw Eli’s sneering grin and the knife going into his father’s stomach. Killing him hadn’t made the pain go away.

Nathan flexed and rotated his arm, testing the skin around the joint. Still a bit stiff. He put on a fresh sweater and went to his map of the city, all stuck with color-coded pins representing recent numbers of attacks by supernatural predators. He kept a stock of blue pins for any time he managed to put one of them down for good. Nathan pressed one of the blue pins into the spot where Garth had died. That made 17 since he’d started his mission. Looking at the sheer volume of other pins, Nathan tried to tell himself that this was not a losing battle.

It was only a matter of time, he kept repeating to himself. Time and determination. Then one day he’d be ready to take on Dorian and topple the power of the Council of Chains for good. One day.

After booting up his computer and checking the news feeds for more reports of unexplained incidents or mysterious disappearances, Nathan sat back in his chair, feeling himself sink into the leather. He looked up at a collection of sketches pinned to a board on the wall. Faces of men and women dressed in styles from throughout history gazed back at him. Some pretty, some handsome, some homely. Some smiled while others frowned in anger or sadness. All young, between their late teens and early thirties. Nathan had known them all. Although he could recall their faces in perfect detail with a moment’s concentration, he still liked to look at them. Thoughts of killing and death faded away, sore muscles eased and Nathan drifted to sleep.

clip_image004About the Author:

A child at heart who turned to writing and roleplaying games when there simply weren't enough action figures to play out the stories he wanted, Paul Anthony Shortt has been writing all his life. Growing up surrounded by music, film and theatre gave him a deep love of all forms of storytelling, each teaching him something new he could use. When not playing with the people in his head, he enjoys cooking and regular meet-ups with his gaming group.

Paul lives in Ireland with his wife Jen and their dogs, Pepper and Jasper. Their first child, Conor William Henry Shortt, was born on July 11th, 2011. He passed away three days later, but brought love and joy into their lives and those of their friends. The following year, Jen gave birth to twins, Amy and Erica.

Paul's first novel, Locked Within, was released on November 6th, 2012, by WiDo Publishing. Silent Oath is the second book in this urban fantasy trilogy.

Website: http://paulanthonyshortt.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/paulanthonyshortt

Twitter: @PAShortt

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6476977.Paul_Anthony_Shortt


Thursday, October 17, 2013

Author Interview with author Karen Greco, author of Hell’s Belle

Hells Belle Banner 450 X 169

Today on the blog we have author Karen Greco for an interview. Thank you for joining us Karen.

Where are you from?

Originally I am from Rhode Island. But I've been in the NYC area for about 17 or so years.

When and why did you begin writing?

I started writing seriously in college. I wrote plays. When I got out of school, I was on a journalism/PR career track, so I kind of left writing behind. I started loads of projects but never finished them. Until Hell's Belle.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

I am not sure I consider myself one yet! It's all a work in progress.

What inspired you to write your first book?

A lot of things. I am really inspired by places. Providence is such a neat little city, and it really drove a lot of the inspiration for the book.

Do you have a specific writing style?

I am a pretty straightforward writer. I am not terribly flowery.

How did you come up with the title?

It's a riff on the AC/DC song! When I was writing plays, I usually took my titles from music. Figured I'd continue the tradition.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

I think there are a few messages, but I would prefer readers to get to them on their own, if they are interested. Most important to me was entertaining the reader.

Are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?

Some of the characters are definitely composites of people I know. But it's not based on any events from my own life. That would be kind of crazy! Awesome but crazy!

What books have most influenced your life most?

Probably Wuthering Heights. I love that book.

If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?

I would love Richard Kadrey to be my mentor! Otherwise, I don't know that I really have one.

What book are you reading now?

I am just starting S.M. Sterling's Dies the Fire, and I am reading a few early stage novels that friends wrote.

What are your current projects?

I am working on the follow up to Hell's Belle and am also working on a horror novel. I am at the outline phase of a paranormal YA that I am pretty excited about, so I may shelve the horror novel for a bit.

Name one entity that you feel supported you outside of family members.

Oh wow, it's going to be tough to narrow that down. I have been fortunate enough to work in the creative field so I know so many wonderful writers and artists that have been huge supporters.

Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

I wanted to be an actor and just started writing a lot of my own material. It just kind of spiraled from there.

Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

I think it's solitude. While I love to be alone in my world, sometimes you just need someone to talk to or to brainstorm. When you work by yourself, it's hard to find that.

Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work?

I love Richard Kadrey. Spare writing style, great action, terrific world building, difficult but awesome characters.

Do you have to travel much concerning your book(s)?

No I don't travel much. Yet.

Who designed the covers?

Robin Ludwig from Covers by Robin did my cover. She's amazing.

What was the hardest part of writing your book?

Having patience with it. I am not a patient person, and you have to be when writing a novel.

Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?

That I can indeed do it!

Do you have any advice for other writers?

For the longest time, I didn't write because I was afraid it wasn't "good enough." I am not sure who I had in mind when I made that decision. I finally made the decision to no long be afraid, and it was the most important decision I ever made.

Describe a typical day spent writing. Do you have any unusual writing habits?

I wish I had a full day to spend writing! My day job is too busy, so I have to steal time when I can. I don't have any habits really.

What was your greatest moment since becoming an author?

How proud my daughter is of me. That's pretty cool. I like that she see that it's important to go for your dreams.

Book Blitz and Giveaway: Hell’s Belle by Karen Greco

Hells Belle Banner 450 X 169


clip_image002Hell's Belle

Karen Greco

Genre: Urban Fantasy

ISBN: 1484830202


Number of pages: 238

Word Count: 74,722

Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

Book Description:

Half-vampire, half-human, Nina Martinez spent most of her life underground as part of an elite secret team of government agents who quietly take down rogue monsters -- the human world none the wiser.

She moves back to her hometown of Providence, RI to keep an eye on the recent uptick in supernatural activity, and to help run the bar she co-owns with her aunt. Her attempt at a “regular” life, not to mention a budding relationship with smoking hot FBI agent Max, is cut short because of a string of ritual murders targeting the city's community of witches.

But Nina's investigation unearths deadly secrets from her long buried parents. Now the target of supernatural assassins, could Nina be the most dangerous vampire hybrid to ever exist? No wonder she can’t get a date.

An urban fantasy set in a decaying Providence, Rhode Island, HELL'S BELLE is a fast-paced, adrenaline-fueled roller-coaster ride through a city on the cusp of becoming an urban wasteland. An energetic, expansive, and cinematic, HELL'S BELLE was called "captivating" by Kirkus Reviews.

Book Chick City gave it 5-stars, calling it "one of the best urban fantasies I have read this year!"



10 Ebook copies of Hell’s Belle By Karen Greco- either mobi or ePub, winners choice

a Rafflecopter giveaway


clip_image004About the Author:

An award-winning playwright, Karen Greco has spent close to twenty years in New York City, working in publicity and marketing for the entertainment industry.

A life-long obsession with exorcists and Dracula drew her to urban fantasy, where she can decapitate characters with impunity. HELL'S BELLE is her first novel.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/karenThegreco

Blog: http://karengreco.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/hellsbellebykarengreco

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17858864-hell-s-belle


Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Book Blitz: The Way She Makes Me Feel by Pembroke Sinclair

The Way She Makes Me Feel Banner 450 X 169


clip_image002The Way She Makes Me Feel

Pembroke Sinclair

Genre: romance

Publisher: eTreasures Publishing

Number of pages: 55

eTreasures Publishing

Book Description:

Drake Steng had it all: a professional football career, money, and looks. Finding women wasn't a problem, having a relationship was. He thought he found true love when he was 12, but as a boy, how was he to know? He never had the courage to find out, and she slipped from his grasp. When Evie walks back into his life years later, he gets a second chance to discover true love, but are Evie and Drake fated to be together or will he lose his courage and lose her again?

Short Excerpt:

She sat at the opposite side of the bar. Her blond hair hung in a ponytail, allowing me to see the edges of a tattoo on her right shoulder blade. She was out of place. The bar didn’t have a formal dress code, but women didn’t walk through the doors unless their make-up was just so and every hair in its right place. Their clothes were low cut, tight, and revealing—very little was left to the imagination.

Her manner of dress differed. She wasn’t slovenly or dirty, but her black tank top and faded jeans didn’t match the ambiance. She wasn't wearing any make-up. She didn’t seem to be overly concerned with attracting the attention of any of the athletes either. Most of the women giggled a little too loudly, their gazes scanning desperately around the room, hoping to contact with someone famous. They always seemed to be moving too, pacing back and forth in front of whoever needed to notice them.

clip_image004About the Author:

In 2009, eTreasures Publishing published my first novel, a sci fi adventure story. Since then, they have published my two YA zombie novels, my religious zombie novella, two children’s picture books, and two novellas with romantic elements. I have an urban fantasy novel about dragons and a vampire novelette that was published by MuseItUp Publishing. Musa Publishing has published my novelette with romantic elements and a collection of short stories. I have a middle grade urban fantasy novel that was published by Little Devil Books. My nonfiction book about slasher films was published by Scarecrow Press.

Writing is my passion. I enjoy creating fantastic worlds and memorable characters. I’m an active promoter of my works and love to talk to readers at book signings and readings. Doing giveaways on Goodreads has been an exciting experience, and having contests for readers has been fun. I actively promote various authors on my blog and participate in blog tours to promote my own work.

I write under several different pen names. For my children’s titles, I write under J.D. Pooker, and for my YA and adult novels, I write under Pembroke Sinclair. My nonfiction work is done under my real name.

I am a member of the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers and am on a committee to create membership criteria for iPAL, which is a sister group to the Published Authors Liaison group and focuses on independent and self-published authors. I am also a member of the ALA and really enjoy doing library visits.

Blog: http://pembrokesinclair.blogspot.com/

Web: http://pembrokesinclair.com/#

Goodread: http://www.goodreads.com/Pembroke

Amazon Author Central

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jessicarobinsonauthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PembrokeSinclair


Book Blitz and Giveaway: Moirai by Ruth Silver

Moirai Tour


Moirai Paperback CoverBook Info-

Title- Moirai

Series -Aberrant Trilogy # 2

By- Ruth Silver

Publication Date- September 26th, 2013

Published By- LazyDay Publishing

Genre- YA Dystopian


Olivia has been on the run from the government of Cabal since the marriage ceremony. Finally settling in and finding herself a place to call home, in Shadow, Olivia and Joshua are preparing for the uprising that they and the rebel alliance have been planning for months.

With new abilities and special talents, from Mindonsiphan, Olivia learns that she can do more than most ordinary eighteen year olds. Learning both to hide and perfect her skills will be one of the biggest challenges she'll be forced to face.

A constant rollercoaster of emotion and adventure await Olivia and Joshua, as they embark on a journey to the rebel city of Torv, and what was once home, Genesis.


Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18243253-moirai

Kindle- http://www.amazon.com/Moirai-Aberrant-ebook/dp/B00FG7UYSK/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1380224354&sr=8-2&keywords=moirai+ruth+silver

Nook- http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/moirai-ruth-silver/1116967494?ean=2940148545149&cm_mmc=AFFILIATES-_-Linkshare-_-TnL5HPStwNw-_-10:1&r=1

Amazon Paperback- http://www.amazon.com/Moirai-Aberrant-Volume-Ruth-Silver/dp/0615883222/ref=sr_1_14?ie=UTF8&qid=1379716731&sr=8-14&keywords=moirai

B & N Paperback- http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/moirai-ruth-silver/1116967494?ean=9780615883229

Excerpt -

“He wants her thrown in the dumpster.” I grimaced as I approached the mattress. “Help me.” I gestured towards the body. “I can't carry her on my own.” Even if I could, I wasn't doing this alone.

“I'm not throwing her away like garbage!” Lisa crossed her arms. “Think of something else, Jacqueline.”

“We could grab some wood, wrap her body, and burn her.” I glanced around the small bedroom. It was mostly empty, except for the dresser against the wall. There were no trinkets, no signs of another life outside of Genesis. I couldn't help but wonder if anyone missed her from back home.

“How are we going to do that without getting caught?” Lisa asked.

“I don't know. Craynor will know we did it.” We were the ones that were told to throw the body away.

“We could find a place in the far end of the lot and bury her.”

Lisa frowned. “No, I like the idea of burning her body. We'd be making a statement. Anita would have approved.”

“If we get caught, we'll be killed,” I reminded her. So much for staying out of trouble.

“He's killing his servants. You don't think that demands attention?” Lisa huffed. “I would have liked to know what I was getting involved in before I worked here.”

“It wasn't like you had a choice.” I reminded her bitterly. That was what we were fighting for: our freedom to make choices. Whether they were right or wrong, they were our choices to make.

“Even so,” Lisa scoffed, “she deserves more than being thrown away like a piece of trash.”

Footsteps clomped through the hallway, just outside the door. “Well whatever we decide, we need to do it fast.”

ruth silver web imageAbout the Author-

Ruth Silver attended Northern Illinois University and graduated with a Bachelor's in Communication in the spring of 2005. While in college, she spent much of her free time writing with friends she met online and penning her first novel, Deuces are Wild, which she self-published in 2004. Her favorite class was Creative Writing senior year where she often handed in assignments longer than the professor required because she loved to write and always wanted to finish her stories. Her love of writing led her on an adventure in 2007 to Melbourne, Australia. Silver enjoys reading, photography, traveling and most of all writing. She loves dystopian and fantasy young adult stories. Her debut novel published by Lazy Day Publishing, ABERRANT is scheduled for release April 2013. Ruth has been actively writing since she was a teenager. She currently resides in Plainfield, Illinois.

You can visit her online at http://writeawaybliss.com

Blog: http://writeawaybliss.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/writeawaybliss

Twitter: https://twitter.com/writeawaybliss

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Ruth-Silver/e/B008NGH038/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Goodreads- https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7022586.Ruth_Silver?from_search=true

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Giveaway Info-

Tour Wide Giveaway for $10 Amazon Gift Card-

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Monday, October 14, 2013

Book Blitz and Giveaway: Luck of The Dragon by Susannah Scott

Luck of the Dragon Button OCT14 - 300 X 225


Luck of the DragonLuck of the Dragon

Susannah Scott

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Release Date: June 2013

Publisher: Entangled Covet

Book Description:

Luciana de Luca has a PhD in sass and gemology—and a problem. Her twin brother’s gambling debts have gotten out of hand, and a mob enforcer is blackmailing her to rob the latest, greatest mega-casino on the Strip. Although Lucy has worked her whole life to get away from her family’s grifter past, to save her brother, she dons three-inch heels and a sluts-r-us dress and struts into Alec’s Gerald’s casino, determined to put her long-forgotten thieving ways to the test again.

Alec Gerald, a shape-shifting dragon, has built the Crown Jewel casino to provide sanctuary for his people amongst the flash and awe of Las Vegas. Unfortunately, the sexy little thief trying to rob his gem exhibit turns out to be his mate, and he must woo her before he loses his dragon form forever. With enemies in every corner, and the all-important mating ceremony looming, Alec and Lucy must learn to trust each other, before time runs out for Alec and the rest of the dragons.

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Luck of the Dragon--Chapter 1--sample

About the Author:

ssSUSANNAH SCOTT lives in the Missouri Ozarks and is the lone female in a very loud household of males ranging in age from 4 to 40. While she jokes that the extreme levels of testosterone inspired her to write romance, it is really the love of creating an excellent story, and the occasional dreams of twenty-foot dragons, that wake her and send her to the laptop before the chaos of daily life ensues. Susannah loves to hear from her readers at the following social media locations:

Susannah Scott Author website

Susannah Scott Facebook Author page

Susannah Scott Goodreads

Susananh Scott Twitter


Giveaway -

$25 Amazon Gift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway



Suddenly, the scent of burning embers swirled over the courtyard and the wind settled, blowing Lucy’s loose hair around her face. A ground-vibrating roar followed, making every human eye search the sky for the source.

What was it?

Lucy’s well-honed survival instincts went on high alert just as a large SUV-sized black object careened through the air and landed on the raised stage with a thud.

Grannies, kids, and call girls hit the ground screaming.

Heart pounding, Lucy crouched with the crowd. The acrid scent of smoldering intensified. Pounding from the stage rattled Lucy’s eardrums. Whatever had landed there was moving and alive. On the platform, clawed feet stomped, and the creature’s matte black skin stretched over powerful muscles and bones. Black wings unfurled across the stage, and the animal roared again at the crowd, baring razor-sharp white fangs.

A dragon.

Holy Mary, Joseph, and Peter. A freakin’ dragon.  

Saturday, October 12, 2013

Book Blitz and Giveaway: Hunting Laura by JA Bailey


TITLE ~ Hunting Laura
AUTHOR ~ J.A. Bailey
GENRE ~ Erotic Romance
RELEASE DATE ~ June 1, 2013
COVER ARTIST ~ Samantha Holt

Laura has just signed up for a term at the exclusive school for submissives. But all is not as it seems. The sexy blonde is hiding the real reason she's there. As the classes progress, Laura is forced to face some truths about her problems with sex along with her growing attraction to her mentor, the dark and distracting Mr Hunter.
Mr Hunter promises to whip her into shape as a sub but before long he is uncovering many of her deepest secrets and desires. But will he discover her biggest secret? And can Mr Hunter really help Laura overcome her issues with his rough methods?
Niall Hunter, a teacher at the exclusive Hollybourne School, knows there's something unusual about his submissive student, Laura. And it’s not just her issues with sex...
While his desire for her wars with his duty, Hunter is determined to help her conquer her problems and find out every secret inside that head of hers. Will he be able to fix what is broken?
As their relationship heats up, Hunter realises he wants more than just a teacher/pupil relationship, but after being hurt in the past, can he trust the secretive woman? And does she feel more than just gratitude for him?

Content warning: Contains adult scenes.

Buy Your Kindle Copy Here At AMAZON




He pulled several lengths as Laura watched, seemingly oblivious to her presence. Her heavy legs remained rooted even as she tried to persuade herself to go. Just get out, Laura. Walk away and leave. Hunter paused at the end of the lane and stared at her, sending a shiver through her. Cheeks flaming, she dove under and swam furiously. She didn't stop until breathless and exhausted. Unfortunately he was still there and she was still frustrated.

His dark gaze studied her as she swam over to the edge and gathered her breath. “Why did you do that?”
Blinking away the water, she scowled. “Do what, Sir?”
“Swim as if you were trying to escape something. Were you trying to escape me?”
Laura released a spluttered laugh. “Of course not.” His eyebrow twitched as if he didn't believe her. Damn him. “You were doing the same,” she added.
He chuckled, the sound unexpectedly lifting her heart. “You might be right.”
They stared at each other. Surely he heard her pulse pounding? When he looked at her like that, she was sure he could see everything. Did he know the truth? Was that why he’d taken a disliking to her? Shit. She was such a fool for agreeing to this. No job was worth this.
Courage sapped by his dark eyes, she swam over to the steps. On her like a tiger, he swam quickly after her and she failed to prevent the surprised yelp as she grabbed on to the metal steps and his arms came around her, gripping the railings. She twisted around to find him looming over her, the water dripping from his hair onto her face. The haunted look no longer lingered in his gaze, instead hunger seeped into it and twisted her stomach.
“You are trying to swim away your frustration,” he stated.
Laura gaped up at him, her shaky fingers curling around the stair railings, just beneath his hands. His body pressed into hers, making the steps dig into her back.
“Are you frustrated, Laura?”
“Are you?” she threw back.
A wry smile quirked on his lips. “Yes. God help me, I am.”
His mouth came down upon hers, causing a gasp. She heard his muffled curse as his hands twined under her damp hair and his tongue pressed into her mouth. Powerless against the onslaught, she gripped stupidly at the railings as her body responded to his touch.
Arching into him, she kissed him back. Even as she fought it, her body craved him.




1 x $10 Amazon GC
3 ecopies of Haunted by the Highlander


Meet The<br />Author2

J.A. lives and works in England and has been writing for many years now. She loves to create stories with a distinctly British feel and all her stories involve strong, virile men, intelligent women and the raunchiest scenarios possible. You can find J.A. on Facebook at www.facebook.com/onlysexystories


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Friday, October 11, 2013

BooK Blitz: Women of War by Lisa Beth Darling

Women Of War Banner 450 x 169

clip_image002Women of War


Book Five

Lisa Beth Darling

Genre: Paranormal/Immortal/Mythological Adult

Publisher: Moon Mistress Publishing

Date of Publication: 2/14/2013

ISBN: 978-0615767611

Number of pages:203

Word Count: 58,000

Cover Artist: Lisa Beth Darling

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/02WcvnLy8-8

Amazon Nook iBooks

Book Description:

Venture on a Mystical Journey through Time and Secrets Past

Book #5 in the OF WAR Series spans four generations of women in Alena's family from her great-grandmother, Shar Draiocht the last known Queen of the Dark Kingdom to her tortured daughter Morrowind, to Maven Alena's free-spirited mother and through the lonely life of Alena MacLeod ending where "The Heart of War" begins with the night Alena washes up on Ares' shore. With intensity, lust, fear, and strength these Women of War make their way in the world revealing the hidden truths of the past and Ares true connection to his beloved Wife, Alena.

Short Excerpt:

Sitting in the dank cell hour after hour and day after day, time lost all meaning. Not even the rancid food came to him on anything that resembled a steady basis. All Ares knew for sure was that one moment he'd been doing his best to sleep on the tilting cot with his knees hanging over the foot of it when the cell door burst open and a full battalion of the Queen's Guard rushed him. Wrestling him to the ground, they clasped him in chains and dragged him to the center of their little underground village. The whole town gathered to witness, torches, staffs, and readily available throwing items in hand. They hissed at him, cursed him, and tossed their stones while guards led him up to a round platform with a pillar of granite jutting out of the middle. Ares needed no introduction to the structure or to learn its intended purpose, after all he invented the whipping post.

Understanding their intention, Ares fought as mightily as he could with his ankles and wrists bound together. "I'm a GOD! How dare you try to whip me?" he railed as he threw off the guards to deliver double axe handle blows upon them, but they were so damn small and agile that he kept missing them. This infuriated him mostly because he was so large they couldn't help but land their return blows on his half-naked frame. It wasn't long before the Queen's Guards knocked his legs out from under him with a heavy blow of a study staff. Once on his knees, blows landed on his head, shoulders, and jaw. Ares discovered that tiny fists hurt a great deal. Bloody and dazed, they shoved him down on all fours and attached the chains on his wrists to the post.

Looking out at the crowd with seething eyes, he cursed them. "You're going to regret this."

"I think not," replied a soft but stern voice from behind him.

Ares looked back over his shoulder to see Shar Draïocht standing there, whip in hand, ready to dole out the punishment they thought he so rightly deserved. "Unusual for a Queen to get her hands so dirty," he snarled.

"It's a special occasion," she hissed back as she brought the whip forward with a practiced wrist. It licked between his shoulder blades and split open a wide swatch of his olive flesh.

Each time the whip sliced through his perfect flesh, Ares snarled, "You bitch!"

With every crack of the whip they raised their staffs high in victory while the crowd shouted out, "Hazzar!"

clip_image004About the Author:

I've been married for the last 27 years to my wonderful husband and incredibly talented musician & rockin' DJ, Roy. We live in my hometown of New London, CT where we have raised two beautiful daughters to adulthood.

My writing career began in junior high, around the 7th grade. A fact that my fellow students adored but often got me called down to the Guidance Counselor's Office to discuss the adult nature of my early stories. While the experience was never pleasant, I was not deterred by the counselors' worries I was spurred onward by them, as well as by my teachers, and my classmates, I continued to hone my craft throughout those formative years.

Through my full-length novels and series I bring conflict, passion, love, and suspense to unique couples--how about a Greek God and a Fae, a retiring military man and an aging widowed hippie, a famous writer/director and a lonely hitch-hiker, or a b-grade actor and a very lucky first-time author? Since I'm never one to shy away from the less pleasant things in life, indeed I believe that it is in the Darkness where Character is created, determined, and defined, my heroes and heroines have their love tested by demons from within and without.

To date, I have penned some 14 novels and 30+ short stories. All of my books and stories are filled with steamy sex, hot passion, dark intrigue, and nail biting suspense. ALL of my works are intended for a Mature Audience Only this includes most of my non-fiction books. My books are for those who like their reading on the gritty side. They are not intended for the faint of heart or those who enjoy a sweet read.

Also, being a Pagan (which is helpful when I write about the Ancient Gods!) I've penned a few useful guides for Ritual Sex/Love Magick and for those wanting to start out exploring Magickal Herbalism.

Web: http://www.moonsmusings.com

Blog: http://lbdarling.wordpress.com

Facebook: http://facebook.com/lbdarling

Twitter: @lb_darling


Thursday, October 10, 2013

Book Blitz: Entangled by SBK Burns

Entangled Banner 450 x 169



S.B.K. Burns

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Black Opal Books

Word Count: about 82,500

Cover Artists: Barbara Marker/Jonathan Cervantes III

Book Description:

She’s Hume’n, a member of the lower class, with a chance to change her life…

In an alternate, twenty-first century Boston, Dawn Jamison is a hair’s breadth away from earning her doctorate degree—a degree that would allow her entrance into the upper class, to become the unemotional and self-disciplined Cartesian she is now only pretending to be. To reach her goal, all Dawn must do is overcome her forbidden attraction to the Olympic-class weightlifter Taylor Stephenson who’s just crashed her lectures on past life regression. She must teach her group of misfit students how to travel back into their past lives—and, oh, of course, figure out how to save the great scientists of the early eighteenth century before they’re inextricably caught up in a time loop.

He’s Cartesian, a member of the upper class, and supposed to know better…

Coerced by his politically powerful, wheelchair-bound brother into spying on Dawn’s past-life regression classes, Taylor knows better than to give into his desire to claim Dawn as his own. But his past-life entity, eighteenth-century Colin, has no such inhibitions. When Taylor and Dawn meet up in Scotland in the 1700s, all the discipline he’s forced on his twenty-first century self is powered into the past, leaving only his overwhelming lust for Dawn’s past-life double, alchemist and witch, Lily.

Unable to escape their sexually obsessive past, Dawn and Taylor find themselves in a race against the clock at the epicenter of a world-altering time quake of their own making.

Excerpt -

From the Annals of the Alchemist Society of 2117:

During the twenty-first century, two scientists pursuing independent methods of brain wave research, a Cartesian, Professor Richard Stephenson of the University of Boston, and a Hume’n, John Marrick, CEO of MathMagics Corporation, refused to share data about travel into the past.

If these two warring factions had agreed to work together, the dark time between the eighteenth and twenty-second centuries might have been avoided.

Chapter 1

Sometime in the twenty-first century, Boston, Massachusetts

Heavy breathing? Not the breath of some hunky guy sliding his warm lips down her neck, she only wished. Unfortunately, the only breathing was hers. She needed to tamp down her nerves—and fast.

Armored from neck to knees in her gray business suit with pleated skirt, Dawn Jameson forced all her concentration into putting one high-heeled foot in front of the other, moving through crowds of students ever closer to the Administration Building at the University of Boston. There, in less than half an hour, nine people would determine her academic fate.

“Sorry.” One of the holier-than-thou coeds, almost a mirror-image of Dawn with blonde hair wrapped tightly in a bun, accidentally bumped her, throwing her shoulder bag to the ground. With not the slightest look backward, the girl said something to one of her friends, then giggled.

Dawn regained her balance. “Curses on your past life,” she said under her breath as she bent to retrieve her bag. Hadn’t she seen a muddy-yellow aura emanating from the girl’s head? The other students to Dawn’s right and left, strutting on the paved walkway in the University’s common area, had dark yellow auras. Low life energies. They marched to their own Cartesian philosophy of rational thinking and stoic detachment. Rene Descartes, the philosopher they supposedly emulated—if he were alive—would be none too pleased with the way Cartesians practiced his teachings.


Dawn gazed ahead at the hill of stairs leading into the gaping mouth of Administration, one of many red brick buildings on campus, each with a white-columned facade, each housing a college of something-or-other.

The University Council, all Cartesians, had called her for a face-to-face. The strategy of its members, simple—intimidate students into showing too much emotion, then expel them for failing to fit the University’s strict code.

Had the Council discovered her hidden identity? She’d been undercover for Marrick these last two years, a favored route through Cartesian minefields for a Hume’n. The greed for Marrick’s money so great that the University, blind to its own prejudice, offered degrees to his protégés based on his donations alone.

The truth? Dawn believed in the teachings of the philosopher David Hume. She based her life decisions on what could be derived through her senses and emotions, not only her rational mind. In other words, she believed thinking about love, a surface pursuit, was not the same as being in love, an emotion traveling to the very core of her existence. For those beliefs, she’d be expelled, especially if the Council discovered that she, lowly Hume’n, had attempted to obtain, through deception, one of its advanced degrees.

Shoulders back and chin up, Dawn reminded herself no one could tell the difference between her and a real Cartesian.

To her right and beyond, acres of mammoth shade trees punctuated well-manicured lawns. Topiary gardens and tall hedges forming giant mazes floated in the misty distance like optical illusions. They led her eyes to a white edifice—University Medical. Her twin brother had admitted himself there for inpatient testing. She missed him. Needed him. But, as usual, she’d suck up her anxious thoughts.

Dawn took heart from the view of green lawns and ancient woods. Here the power of nature still flourished, albeit crowded with egotistical students. The giant oaks seemed as spiritual entities, their branching humanlike arms penetrated the present from the past, without the need for meditative transport through time, her preferred mode of travel.

She couldn’t see the auras of the trees, didn’t have the talent her parents had for perceiving a rainbow of colors. Ultraviolet, high-frequency emanations, were invisible to her; they meant harmony and wisdom. Unlike the students’ auras, the shade trees bore no yellow light; their radiation, clean, pure, undetectable—wise.

Climb me, the trees beckoned. Play hooky, and leave all that seriousness behind.

What had she been thinking? Off the sidewalk, her shiny spike heels sank into the soft earth beneath mowed grass. Before any of the Cartesians noticed, she slipped her stocking-clad feet out of the heels, pulled her pumps from the ground, and ran to hide behind one of the mammoth trunks. A red squirrel chirped its complaint before scurrying to the far side of the oak.

Leaning against the wide trunk, away from the students, she hyperventilated, taking deep breathes, attempting to dampen her fears. At twenty-six, she was still a graduate student in psychology with no degree in sight. So maybe she wasn’t that good at following the stupid Cartesian dictates of the University. Yet she had to obey the rules. Without a degree, how could she continue to support a sick brother on a meager Hume’n salary?

“Find yourself in a bit of a pickle?”

Dawn choked at the sight of a tall, gray-haired woman, dignified looking, in a white jumpsuit. A uniform? Maybe the dignified part was the woman’s very formal-sounding accent. British. Perhaps, for the same reason as Dawn, she hid on this side of the tree.

The woman sighed deeply as if relieved for the cover. Her aura encapsulated her whole person, glowed a rainbow of colors, strange yet beautiful.

“Who are you? Do you know there are dancing colors around you?” Dawn said, looking away, shielding her eyes from a piercing beam of sunlight.

The older woman inched her way toward Dawn. “It’s the side effect of the prisms.”

Dawn shook her head vigorously, hoping the strange apparition with the heavy accent would leave. That’s all I need—one more person to mess with my focus.

Her best friend and major distraction, Naomi, had yet to show up. Perhaps she’d thankfully decided not to give Dawn her misguided brand of moral support. Wasn’t facing the Council enough for one day? Apparently not.

“No, I am actually here,” the woman said, as if anticipating Dawn’s question.

“Can I touch you?”

At the permissive nod, Dawn let her fingers make contact with the woman’s arm, the skin soft and warm.

“I’ll be gone in a moment,” the woman said. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you.”

“Thank me? You know me?”

“You’re Dawn Jameson, the one who wrote the book on past lives.”

Staring blankly, Dawn’s head bobbled in a nod, like a trinket on a car’s dashboard. So confused.

“But, more importantly, you are the Dawn Jameson who saved the world.”

Had Dawn just seen the woman wink at her? She closed her eyes, and a warm sea of red blazed through her eyelids. She and this woman had been standing in a sunbeam focused through the tree leaves. The sky had been bright. Too bright.

Yeah, right. Save the world. Dawn let her head rest back against the living tree. She’d be lucky if she could save herself.

Opening her eyes, she looked to her left. No one. Had she imagined the woman? Or had the woman been an apparition, a past life, like Lily, the eighteenth-century alchemist whom she’d channeled into on occasion?

As she forced away any thoughts of the strange visitor and her stranger words, a salty metallic taste assaulted her tongue. She’d been so nervous she’d bitten her lip. Grabbing a tissue from her bag, she dabbed at the blood.

Heart beating into her ears, Dawn wiped the heels of her shoes with the rest of the tissue, then stuffed it into her jacket pocket. Once again, she tilted her head back against the massive trunk, hoping to connect with its spirit, to find her center, her serenity.

Okay, here goes. Dawn suppressed her emotions, especially those about visions of people with rainbow auras and British accents. She swallowed her errant nerves, and in her stocking feet carried her pumps to the sidewalk. Balancing on one foot then the other, she replaced her spiked heels. Just a few more strides and then up those intimidating steps and into that building where Council members, department heads, and her advisor, Professor Stephenson, might enhance, or end, her opportunities at research.

Dawn stroked a few hairs that slipped from her bun, smoothed wrinkles from her jacket, and straightened her shoulders as she prepared to climb the thirty-or-so steps to the façade of the Grecian building that held Administration. She could do this. What could go wrong?

* * *

The night before

Taylor Stephenson stepped out of the shower, rubbed a spot on the steamed mirror, and looked back at the idiot who’d agreed to sub for his older brother at the University Council. The upscale apartment they shared was a short walk from campus. A scientist of some renown, Richard had wanted to provide Taylor with a limo and chauffeur, saying the distance to campus was too far to walk. Unlike other weightlifters on his team, Taylor preferred getting aerobic conditioning from jogging, as well as quick-twitch workouts with the weights. The walk would do him good.

Tempted to grab a towel and clean the shower steam from more mirrored surfaces, Taylor sought to catch a glimpse of his progress, his sculpted muscles, maybe flex in various poses to assure himself that his hard work had paid off. He’d seen his Cartesian teammates do that. Didn’t seem right, though. Self absorbed. Yet he was a Cartesian. Wasn’t he?

He heard his bedroom door close; the sound, unmistakable. He glanced over to the bed where Sophie, Richard’s nurse, had fluffed the pillows and turned down the sheets.

Just left. Close call. Why did he resent her? The older woman had been kind to him, good to his sick brother, and efficient.

Something’s not right about her.

Taylor sprawled onto the bed, his body drained, his mouth dry, his head dizzy.

The hot shower had done its job.

“Off,” he said, and the room faded to black.

How had Richard talked him into taking his place with the Council, stodgiest group of self-important people Taylor had ever known? Under his brother’s protection, as long as Taylor stuck to his studies and weight training, he didn’t have to concern himself with university politics. So why had he committed to stand in for Richard now?


Nurse Sophie shouldn’t be looking after his brother—he should. Instead, Taylor had pursued his own interests, the applied math Richard had encouraged him to study and his weight training. Richard’s health had stabilized after his body had lost most of its muscular functioning. Whenever Taylor confronted his brother about the deteriorating condition and the need for a living will, Richard responded with optimism.

What if Richard were wrong? What if his disease worsened? What if he died while Taylor was off doing his thing, solving equations and lifting weights, missing valuable moments of his brother’s companionship? Thoughts like that brought too much pain. He slowly drifted into sleep, longing to be somewhere else and somebody else.

* * *

Taylor found himself sitting on a log, a six-foot-diameter tree trunk with a ninety-degree wedge cut out to form the bottom and back of a long bench.

And he couldn’t see. Of course, his hands were over his eyes and they were covered

in . . . he licked his palms . . . in salty liquid. Tears?

As he stared up and around, he saw nothing but fog. Thick.

He inhaled abruptly. His clothes were old, not shabby, but garments one might have worn in the past. All the materials covering his body were black, from the roughly tooled leather forming his shoes to his stockings and breeches, his shirt and judgelike robe. And what’s this god-awful stiff thing around my neck? He pulled it off.

“A preacher’s collar,” a voice said.

“A what?” He had the answer almost before he realized he’d asked the question.

He couldn’t remember deciding to speak those words. They’d come from a voice—unbidden.

“A preacher’s collar,” the voice repeated.

Squinting into the opaque haze for the speaker, he slammed back against the bench, as if expecting an evil spirit to come for him out of the mist.

“I’m not out there,” the voice said. “I’m in here, inside ye. And, no, ye aren’t imaginin me.”

“Yeah, like you’re going to tell me this isn’t a dream.”

“Ye are right, me friend.”

Okay, maybe he should humor himself. He’d had strange, exotic dreams, sometimes sensual dreams, as a result of suppressing some of his baser compulsions. Better go along with his subconscious, or his dreams, or whatever they were. Imaginings fueled by his Cartesian repression might go a little nightmarish on him. Better to be safe.

“Okay. Who are you?” he said, still looking around.

“Most of the time, I visit ye in Boston, but ye never visit me.”

Taylor didn’t know how to react to that statement. But when he found his arms and legs moving without volition, he tried to keep his panic to a minimum.

This was a dream. Right? Just a dream.

His body, or whoever’s body he’d entered, opened a heavy wooden door and walked into a small room with pews lining either side—a chapel. In one corner, a spiral stairway connected to an upper floor.

Taylor continued to feel the same dizziness he’d experienced falling onto his bed. In his bedroom—he reminded himself—in the Boston of the twenty-first century, not this old-time mist-covered relic of the past.

The second floor, an attic, bathed in shadow until his arms and hands moved—as if they knew what they were doing—lighting a candle on a desk, in front of a mirror. As the body stood there reaching for a coarsely bound book, Taylor glanced at his image, horrified.

The face, his face, peered back at him—the same dark auburn hair, but long and tied back. His new body resembled his, filled out the dated clothing the same way his muscular frame would.

“Me name’s Colin,” the voice said. “Ye’ve channeled inta me from me future. Look.”

Colin forced him to observe a book opened on the desk. The book, written in freehand, appeared to be lab notes and equations. If the book were printed, he might have an inkling of the time period of the imprint; the information might have helped him figure out how to wake up—how to get back.

Get back? Get back to where? The thoughts jolted his focus away from the book. Was he somewhere besides in his bed and sleeping, or dreaming? One thing he knew, if this were Colin Stewart, his math idol, he’d spent entirely too much time on his studies.

“This is me work, me equations,” Colin said. “Do they look familiar? I’ve been fascinated by all the things ye’ve done with them in yer century.”

Taylor swallowed his nausea. Had he actually swallowed? Was he now in control of this body that looked so much like his own, but wasn’t? He moved his index finger along the neatly written equations. “These are series expansions, formulas that represent natural behaviors like parabolic motion of something thrown in Earth’s gravity, or the oscillating vibrations of sound waves.”

“Yes, isn’t it amazin what a few mathematical symbols can reveal?”

“But this isn’t the only thing you wanted me to see, or to know about you, is it? What’s the point of this dream?”

“Oh, no, Taylor, this is not a dream. This is yer life. The mess ye will make of me life if ye and yer friends don’t stay in me future where ye belong.”

“But I didn’t choose to come here.”

“Didn’t ye? Ye and all yer Cartesian friends? Those who think a degree is more important than a life? Ye pollute the past with yer suppressed emotions. Ye take for granted the time that flows through ye and past ye. Ye slow and twist and loop the flow with yer flooded rivers of collected debris.”

A young woman in a simple, light-blue cotton gown stood at the top of the stairs. Her long straight blonde hair caught in a neckline trimmed in white lace. “Did I miss anythin?” Her bodice gave an unapologetic view of her ample breasts—gifts—as if she were presenting them to him. She swished this way and that, tempting him to touch.

“Looks like Lily’s back,” Colin’s voice said, almost laughing.

The book. The mathematics of scrawled words. Forgotten.

The inviting chest of the blonde temptress, Taylor’s only focus.

Her breasts heaved with each of her labored breaths.

Reluctantly his body was drawn to satisfy her, the stitching in his trousers constraining his erection.

No. He couldn’t let her take possession of him like this.

His mind fought to emerge from the nightmare.

“Runnin away willna help,” she said.

Maybe not, but somehow, surprising himself, he’d managed to awaken.

Taylor lay shivering on his bed. Even turning on the lights didn’t quell his trembling within the sweat-drenched robe.

This seductress, Lily, resembled a photograph from the dossier of one of his brother’s grad students, one he’d have to deal with tomorrow at the Council.

Dawn Jameson.


clip_image004About the Author:

From an early age, S. B. K. Burns recited Shakespearean sonnets or snuck a read of a Broadway script from her parents’ theater magazine.

Having worked in the world of science—oceanography, biomedicine, and aerospace engineering—she brings these experiences to her sci-fi paranormals imbued with her idealistic philosophy that merges science with spirituality.