Feeling chatty?

Welcome to my blog! Pull up a chair, grab a cup of coffee and read what's on my mind. I've a vicious sense of humor, an apprecation for romance and a mad addiction to writing. Shall we gab?

Friday, October 17, 2014

Paranormal Erotic Romance. Life Reignited by Sabrina Garie.

Today I’m thrilled to welcome over Sabrina Garie, author of Life Reignited, Divine Temptation, Book 2. So sit back, relax and check out this scrumptious Paranormal Erotic Romance.

Publisher:  Ellora’s Cave
ISBN:  9781419991691

Number of pages:  87 novella
Word Count: 24,000

Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde

Giveaway! Be sure to enter the Rafflecopter after this post for a chance to win one of the following: 2 e-copies of Life Reignited (Book 2, Divine Temptation), 2 e-copies of Thirteen Nights (Book 1, Divine Temptation) or 3 decks of Ellora’s Cave Playing Cards.

Book Description

Phoebe lives trapped between two worlds. Born an Amazon warrior, she’s sworn to serve the Greek pantheon. It’s her work as a scholar in the human world that gives her life passion and purpose and eases her heart—which shattered when the pantheon forced her to abandon her human lover.

Alexander Xenos is world renowned classics expert, who has dedicated his life to the study of ancient cultures and promoting peace. His fame and global adventures hide a hole in his heart, ripped out by a beautiful, gentle scholar, who shut him out cold after the most intense love affair he'd ever had.

Thirty years later, Sander meets his long lost love, only to learn she's an Amazon, the mythical gods are real, and they are about to go to war. And Phoebe, who still sets his blood to boil, is in the thick of it.  He'll have to prevent a conflict between the Greek and Norse pantheons or lose her again—this time permanently.

Available at Ellora’s Cave

Interview Time!

What inspired you to write this book?

A couple of years ago, some critique partners and I decided to write an anthology together.  Each of was had to have a club run by a siren proprietress.  We had free rein to write any type of story—the siren sisters would be the connecting link. While we never did produce the anthology, I did write the story, which became Thirteen Nights, Divine Temptation 1.   I feel in love with the secondary characters, and wanted them to have a happy ending.  As luck would have it, Ellora's Cave launched its VaVaBoomers series which was love stories for those over 50, which gave me the opportunity to write Phoebe and Sander's story and give it to home. Life Reignited is part of two series: VaVaBoomers and Divine Temptation.

Tell us about your book cover and how it relates to your story.

For the cover artist, I identified the power of ancient knowledge as a key theme of the story and she knocked it out of the park. You have the hot guy in a library, just crackling with magic and power.  The hero, Sander, wins battles using knowledge and his mind.  While Phoebe, the heroine, is also a scholar she is an Amazon warrior and tends to fight with her fists first.

Are you currently working on another story? If so, we’d love some details.

I am finishing up Hope Restored, Divine Temptation 3. The heroine is Marta, who appears in both Thirteen Nights and Life Reignited. She's not very likeable in Thirteen Nights so I use Life Reignited to soften her a bit, but not completely. In Hope Restored, we learn why she is the way she is, which makes her past actions very forgiveable. Here's a short section, where Marta meets Paean, our hero, for the first time.  Her prickly personality is front and center until Paean is forced to look below the surface. 

A tall, leanly-muscled woman, over six feet, light brown hair pulled back in a French braid glared at him. The aristocratic beauty of her face was marred by a stare that spit venom and a mouth pursed so tight her lips were barely visible. Dark circles rimmed her eyes. She rubbed her hand as if it had been hurt. “That case is dangerous,” she growled. “Take better care of it.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Ya think?”

She was a prickly pear. “Let me see it. I know a little first aid.”

He put his guitar and backpack down to examine her outstretched hand, surprised she let him touch it. He turned the arm toward him, noticing an unusual tattoo on her shoulder—the kill markings of an Amazon warrior. Fury erupted in his gut, clawed up his chest into this throat. Even after a millennia, the wound remained raw. Not that it was her fault. She would have no idea who he was. He’d been thrown off Olympus so long ago, his name disappeared from the common language. Maybe somewhere in an old dusty old scroll the historians no longer picked up, there was reference to him, but he doubted it.

“Are you going to patch it up or just stare at it?”

“Not liking my bedside manner or you just a grouchy patient?’ He couldn’t stop the resentment from leaking into his tone until he looked deep into her eyes. She wasn’t angry, she was tortured.

What sort of personality does your hero have?

Sander is geeky, fearless, with a sexy British accent and an Angus McGyver I-can-fix-anything approach to life. He's equally at home trekking through the savannah, searching for artifacts in Scandinavia, writing a blog, teaching a class or presenting a paper. He doesn't do love. He never got over Phoebe, or the pain of losing her.

What sort of personality does your heroine have?

She's stoic, moving forward with life even though she has a hole in her heart the size of Texas.  She's an Amazon, who struggles with being an Amazon. She'd be happier doing research, writing papers, and being bonded to her love, who she had to leave because of her obligations to the gods. She's a little fearful of upending the apple cart, but ultimately learns that it takes more courage to rebel against authorities than it does to fight your enemies in a fist fight you were trained from birth to win.

Tell us about your favorite writing environment. Is it indoors, outdoors, a special room, etc.

I write on my couch, with my feet up.  The room is silent. I know many prefer to write with music, but that does not work for me.  The only downside is that I don’t have soundtracks for my books that I can share with readers.

Do you write books in series? If so, share a bit about the series you currently have published or are coming soon.

I do write books is series.  Life Reignited is part of my Divine Temptation Series with Ellora's Cave, all centered on Amazon women, obligated to the Greek Pantheon, who find a way to be with the men they love. Often, in many paranormal books we find the men who are bonded warriors. I switched that, and made the women's tribe the group that flows through the series.  Divine Temptation includes Thirteen Nights,  A Flicker of Power (1.5 available free), Life Reignited, and coming next year, Hope Restored.

If you could make changes to a story you’ve already written, which would it be and why?

I am happy with the story in Life Reignited overall. One thing I would do if I rewrote it today would be to add hints of a romance between Forseti, the Norse God of Justice, and his head Valkyrie, Sigrid.  There is one suggestion of this, but it could easily be written off as the action of a body guard.


Copyright © SABRINA GARIE, 2014
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Sander wished Phoebe didn’t feel so enticing. Her unique orchid scent wove its way through his bloodstream, mucking up his focus. He couldn’t square the gentle, quick-witted, brilliant scholar he loved as Cassie with the sad-eyed, battle-scarred Amazon warrior called Phoebe fitted against him. His body remembered her. No other woman ever came close to her creativity, capabilities and stamina in bed. She taught him what it was like to fully lose himself in a woman, and he’d never been able to replicate it. He finally understood why—it was never a fair fight. A human woman could not match a physically enhanced being. He’d always thought she was the love of his life, but did he even know her? Nothing made sense, except the hard-on straining against his zipper. Her physical impact hadn’t dimmed. At all.

When Phoebe stabilized, she led them back to her room at Neutral Ground. She appeared perfectly fine after a fight that would have killed most humans. At her door, she pressed her thumbprint on a small indent above the handle, then pushed it open.

“How did you open the door?” He peered inside. “And what did you do to merit this suite?” Molded ceiling, velvet coverings, red and gold Persian carpets and antique furniture that reminded him of a bedroom he’d find in Buckingham Palace. He was sure the paintings—Botticelli’s Birth of Aphrodite, Rubens’ Judgment of Paris among others—were the artists’ originals. Phoebe was right. This would be an intellectual candy land if his emotions weren’t tied up into knots.

A distraught laugh whispered out of her. “I ticked off the Elders and a portion of the Greek pantheon resistant to change. Neutral Ground is one of six safe havens worldwide sanctioned by the Council of Pantheons. Anyone who threatens me here is subject to death. Outside, well you saw for yourself. The DNA lock is an added protection, just in case. Thank you for coming to my rescue, by the way. My fighting skills are not what they used to be.” Her cheeks burned red. Was she embarrassed?

“You’re welcome.” In the corner an inlaid mahogany desk piled high with ancient scrolls drew his attention. “Are those what I think they are?” Her eyes followed his gaze and her eyebrows rose in what looked like an aha moment, then an indulgent and very real smile lit up her face. It was the first time tonight he’d seen the vivacity that lived in his memories, and he’d sneaked glimpses of her all evening.

“Yes, they are. Ancient scrolls documenting the history, culture and science of the Greek pantheon. I even have an original of The Republic by Plato, and Sappho’s poetry. You’re welcome to take a look.”

As a classics scholar, he read ancient Greek, Latin, Scandinavian, Teutonic and Celtic languages. This was a treasure trove he couldn’t resist. “Aren’t you afraid of ruining them?”

“They’re protected by pantheon magic. They can’t be destroyed.” She hooked her arm through his and guided him to the corner. After scrutinizing the pile, she picked up a scroll and handed it to him. Her fingers lingered on his hand longer than necessary. Sparks ignited under the touch. This was the woman he remembered—glowing eyes, an impish grin, with ancient knowledge flowing around her as if it were part of her aura. If there were more lines radiating from her eyes and lips, they softened her, made her more the Cassie he had adored, less the unknown Phoebe.

He took the scroll in one hand and pulled his reading glasses out of his jacket pocket with the other. He got the spectacles a year ago and wasn’t used to wearing them but his eagerness for the scrolls overcame any hesitation.

“They suit you,” Phoebe said.

He nodded, too absorbed by the parchment now open on the table. “You remembered The Odyssey was my favorite. This is truly Homer’s original copy?” A shiver ran down his spine. It wasn’t every day a man meets his personal deity.

“Yes, it is.” She moved closer, her hair brushing his ear as she leaned over to look at the text with him. Phoebe’s floral scent, the heat of her body skated along his skin, threw his concentration off, something that never happened. If his mind questioned the emotions he thought he once felt for this woman, his body didn’t. Given his age, he thought he could move past physical needs.

Apparently not.

His cock stiffened like that of a hormone-driven teenager in heat. By the way Phoebe squirmed, he’d guess she felt it too. Like in London, when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

“Take a look at this passage in its original. You can see why it’s commonly misinterpreted.” 
Phoebe’s arm brushed his, sending electric charges exploding beneath his skin.

“The article you published on this created controversy. I was impressed with the argumentation. Now more so. This passage makes interpretation harder, not easier.”

“You’ve followed my work?” Her face beamed with happiness and a soft pride. “I’m glad. I’ve read everything you’ve published, and follow your blog, Found Worlds. You’re making history and culture popular.”

Her praise shot jolts of warmth into his chest. That smile and her soft breasts brushing his arm unlocked the door to his memories. Unbidden, images of naked, sweat-drenched bodies tumbled out. Yes, he’d followed her work, justifying the way he gobbled up her writing as respect of one professional for another. With her next to him, touching him, he had to admit now it wasn’t true. Through her words, he stayed connected to her. And she, him.

About the Author

Sabrina Garie is on a journey to create the most kick-ass heroine romance fiction has ever known and the hero who can take her. A believer that big, audacious goals spice up life, she relies on coffee, red wine and laughter to make those goals (and her characters) come alive.

When not at the computer, she wrangles vegetables and extra helpings of homework into her star-spangled, fashion-loving progeny, kowtows to a fat cat and reads, a lot. As a child, she wanted to be an astronaut, just to see what’s out there. Now, she just makes it up.

Visit Sabrina Garie 





Monday, October 6, 2014

Paranormal Romance. Borealis Ardor by Kay Phoenix.

Today it’s my pleasure to welcome over Kay Phoenix, author of Borealis Ardor, Seasons of Passion, Winter Winds. Love paranormal romance? Then cozy in and check out this fabulous new release!

Publisher:  MuseItUp Publishing

ISBN:  978-1-77127-495-1

Number of pages:  58
Word Count:  14,709

Cover Artist:  Suzannah Safi

GIVEAWAY! Be sure to enter the Rafflecopter after this post for a chance to win one of 5 e-book copies of  Borealis Ardor (pdf format).

Book Description

Lauren Madison’s life started unraveling at a speed too fast for her to keep up with. Every truth she had taken for granted was torn away, and the pieces that were left painted no clear pictures at all…only more confusion.

The only pillar of strength in her fragile life was David Wagner, her bodyguard who was placed in witness protection. But, what had he seen that day, and why couldn’t she remember? 

She had no choice but to run. And if her life was threatened again, who would be there to protect her?

Available at Amazon

Let’s hear from Kay Phoenix...

I just spent the weekend with an amazing group of fellow authors at www.hotmojaveknights.com. One of the events we hosted was a book signing, and a common question that I noticed being asked was “So…what do you like to read?”  Well, while I do write romance and enjoy reading it, there is another genre that I love much more.

I love true adventure!  When I was 10 or so I wrote a book report on “Cry of the Kalahari” by Mark and Delia Owens.  To me, this is a romance if ever there was one.  It is the true story of two married scientists who gave up everything to move to the Kalahari Desert in Africa to research animals. What animals?  They didn’t know until they got there.  It was so brave, and such a romantic notion to my young, impressionable brain.  They have since written several more books and now reside in America researching grizzly bears.  I love their devotion to each other, their devotion to their causes, and I especially love their storytelling abilities.  Each of them has a specific voice and I have garnered much inspiration from their texts. 

I am a contemporary and paranormal romance writer but I’d rather read true adventure any day.  And, well, if LOVE isn’t the grandest adventure, what is?


“You shouldn’t be here, Lauren.  Leave quickly.” The voice stopped me in my tracks.  It was David’s voice, in my head.  But, I shrugged it off and walked forward until I saw the new stone and the rectangle of earth in front of it that had noticeably less pine needles than the surrounding area.

I knelt beside it.

“David Alan Wagner.  Beloved Son, Brother and Friend.”  The lines of the letters were etched deep and black, contrasting heavily against the light grey stone.  I gently lay the roses down and traced the letters with my finger.  There was a cross carved below the words.  I ran my hand along the entire edge of the top of the stone, feeling the rough edges in contrast to the freshly polished front and back. I wondered how long the stone had been there. Dad assured me he had taken care of the funeral expenses, and he must have made sure there was a rush order on the headstone.  There was a fresh bouquet of white roses lying at the base of the stone and it made me feel deeply saddened for his family, as well as for him.  As much as dad irritated the living hell out of me with his overprotective gestures, if I had to disappear forever and have him think I was dead, it would break my heart.  After we lost mom, we were all the family we had.

I loved David with my whole heart.  Even though we had only been together for two of the six months that he was assigned to me, I knew that he was the “one”.  I just knew it.  There was no explanation.  And, I was the “one” for him as well.  But, now he was gone, and it was unlikely that I would see him again, at least not any time soon.

I reached up to trace the “D” again and saw a strange light flash across the polished surface of the stone, which I realized with horror to be a set of headlights.

Who would be coming to a graveyard at this hour? Besides me of course? Teenagers with a Ouija board and bottle of Strawberry Hill wine in tow, perhaps?

I could take no chances.  I could have been followed.

About the Author

Ms. Phoenix is a lifelong resident of Las Vegas, Nevada.  She serves on the board of the Las Vegas Romance Writers and is also a member of the Kiss of Death and Women’s Fiction chapters of Romance Writers of America.

In her spare time she enjoys hiking, camping and photography and is pursuing a Bachelor’s in Psychology.  She is also a member of the Vegas Artists Guild as a photographer.  Prior to writing, Kay was a Graphic Artist for 15 years in the casino industry.

Kay writes in the contemporary and paranormal romance categories, as well as non-fiction articles. Please visit her website at www.KayPhoenix.com.

Visit Kay Phoenix



Friday, September 26, 2014

Will the Truth Destroy or Free Them? The Art of Love and Murder by Brenda Whiteside.

Today I’m thrilled to welcome back talented author, Brenda Whiteside who will be chatting more about her latest release, The Art of Love and Murder.

Brenda, the floor’s all yours…

Thanks so much for having me today, Sky. I’m excited to have your readers learn about my latest release, The Art of Love and Murder, the first book in my Love and Murder series. I hope everyone enters the Rafflecopter drawing for a tote bag of items that relate to the book. The more you enter, the more chances you have to win. This link will direct you to all the blogs on my tour. 

Authors usually interject a little of themselves into every book they write. Since I’m a bit of a coffee-aholic, most of my books have a coffee drinker. In The Art of Love and Murder I went a step further. My heroine, Lacy Dahl owns a coffee café called The Lacy Latte. Although only the last scene of the book takes place in the café, I had fun creating Lacy’s business. All the windows are topped with lace, there’s a huge fireplace to curl up by with comfy couches and the balcony upstairs is a warm nook. The twist is Lacy doesn’t drink coffee. She prefers chai which she serves in her coffee café.

Side note – no one in my family will drink the coffee I make because my blend is strrroong, has a dash of cinnamon and a dollop of cream.


Lacy Dahl never questioned her past until the deaths of her adoptive parents and her husband. A husband who wasn't what he seemed. Her research uncovers secrets about the mother she never knew; secrets that dispute the identity of her father and threaten her life.

Sheriff Chance Meadowlark is still haunted by the murder of his wife and the revenge he unleashed in the name of justice. When he meets Lacy he is determined not to become involved, but their pasts may make that impossible. As they move closer to the truth, saving Lacy may be his only salvation.

Lacy begins to think the present is more important than her past...until Chance's connection to her mother and a murder spin her deeper into danger and further from love. Will the truth destroy Lacy and Chance or will it be the answer that frees them?


Momentarily struck dumb by his eye color, she stared back. Why hadn’t she noticed until now? Although not as light as hers or her father’s, the professor’s eyes were a startling green shade.

His hand nudged her arm. “Lacy?”

She jumped. “Oh, yes.” She slipped the tissue from the half-carved wolf. Another glance at his eyes and goose bumps riddled her arms.

He lifted the wood close to his face, using both hands as if handling a delicate hummingbird. His thumb traced the neck of the creature to the juncture of where it emerged from the wood. When he brought the piece to his nose, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Lacy wanted to turn away from the oddly erotic gesture.

He swallowed, opened his eyes and set the wolf back on the tissue. His attention shifted to the photograph of the chest. He touched the photo, a smile on his lips. “Where is the chest?”

The chest. Like he knew it, had seen it before. “I’m having it sent. You’ve seen it before?”

He didn’t move, stared out the window as if deep in thought. “I’d like to show you something, Lacy.”

“All right.” She waited, watching his profile.

He turned and stared into her face a moment. “You’re so very lovely. A creation full of life and passion, surpassing any art form.”

His hypnotic voice floated on the classical strains drifting from the living room. She couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say. She’d been lifted upon a pedestal of admiration. With any other man, she might consider his words a means to a sexual end. The professor’s intentions, however, were crystal. He admired her like a work of art. 

Buy Links

Brenda spends most of her time writing stories of discovery and love. The rest of her time is spent tending vegetables on the small family farm she shares with her husband, son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Together, they’ve embraced an age-old lifestyle that has been mostly lost in the United States - multiple generations living under one roof, who share the workload, follow their individual dreams and reap the benefits of combined talents.

Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com.
She blogs on the 9th and 24th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.com
She blogs about writing and prairie life at http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/

Friday, September 12, 2014

A Life Lost. A Prophecy Fulfilled. Wounded by Shannon Mayer.

Today it’s my pleasure to welcome over Shannon Mayer, author of Wounded, A Rylee Adamson Novel, book 8. 

Publisher: HiJinks Ink Publishing, Ltd.
Genre: Paranormal Romance

Book Description

"My name is Rylee and I am a Tracker."

When children go missing, and the Humans have no leads, I'm the one they call. I am their last hope in bringing home the lost ones. I salvage what they cannot.

The clock is ticking and I can feel the weight of the final battle with the demon hordes looming over my head. The puzzle pieces are becoming clearer, but the casualty list is growing. And with each name that is added to those we've lost, my confidence cracks a little more. 

Yet there is hope.

A child saved. 

A life lost.

A prophecy fulfilled.

Giveaway! Be sure to enter the Rafflecopter after this post for a chance to win a signed set of three of The Rylee Adamson Novels (winners choice) plus a Rylee Adamson mug.

Book Trailer

Available at Amazon   BN   iTunes   Kobo Smashwords

*Special Note: All of the books in The Rylee Adamson Novels series will be on sale from September 9-15th at $0.99 down from $3.99 regular price.*

An Agent Liam O’Shea Interview

The Daily Grind

September 13/2012

Cold Case Heats Back Up?

There is no such thing as a case that is too cold, at least according to Liam O’Shea. He has been an FBI agent for over ten years, and in that time only one case of his remains open. 

His first case.

At the time, Agent O’Shea was fresh out of the academy and “still believed that justice always prevails”. Then along came the case that would chill the hearts of every agent working it, many of them parent’s themselves. 

Rylee Adamson, then sixteen years old, was accused and charged with killing her younger sister Berget; whose body was never found. The case made media headlines as Adamson went missing for close to two weeks and a man hunt the size this state had not seen in a hundred years ensued. 

Adopted into the Adamson household, her younger sister was a ‘miracle’ baby that by all accounts Adamson adored. It wasn’t until an outing the two girls took to Deerborn Park that Adamson’s actions would come into question.

“The younger girl’s blood and clothing was found several blocks away tucked behind a dumpster,” Agent O’Shea said, “and the only hair fibers found were the two girls, Berget and Rylee. There is no one else it could be that killed little Berget.” To O’Shea, it was an open and shut case; and with Adamson’s disappearing act he felt her guilt was obvious. But he, along with the other police enforcement involved where denied the closing of the case on a technicality in court.

“It’s only because of her lawyer, hired by Giselle Trinkoff, that Adamson wasn’t found guilty. A technicality I aim to right.” O’Shea states.

To date, Adamson has not been proven guilty of any charges, though O’Shea is determined to change that fact. “She got away once. She won’t get away again.”

For now, Adamson is MIA, her whereabouts unknown to anyone but Agent O’Shea. He claims that he finally has new evidence that Adamson killed her younger sister, hid the body, and dodged the penal system. 

This reporter isn’t so sure; there are too many unknowns to state that Adamson did it without a shadow of a doubt. But then, I always root for the underdog. And in this case, no one is more of an underdog than Rylee Adamson.

Excerpt from Wounded

“You don’t think that all of the disasters that humanity has faced were all natural, do you? The bubonic plague is a good example. It was blamed on a number of things. Rats, the Jewish people, punishment from God. It all led to a cleansing of anything unusual. Mostly supernaturals, who were trying to blend in, and in that process the humans wiped out many of their best defenders against the demon population, which then went on to spread the plague across the world. But that is just one example.”

“What was the point though, wouldn’t the demons have wanted people to be alive so they could possess them?” Liam asked. 

Erik gave a ruthful smile. “Yes and no. The bubonic plague wasn’t so much about killing people off, as it was infecting them. Making them weak and easier to possess. The plague compromised their immune systems, allowing them to be taken over. Especially the young.”

Something about what Erik said sent a twang through my brain. I struggled to put the pieces together that floated just out of reach. Damn it. Liam touched my arm. “What?”

I closed my eyes and pressed my palms into them, blocking out any light. “Just let me think for a minute.”

The feel of the night air and the sound of the fountain filled my ears as I looked at the pieces one by one. 

Demons escaped in London who bred fast.

Minor supernaturals were being possessed by lesser demons and evil spirits.

Packs of Orion’s demons were free to cause chaos.

The only thing we were missing was a plague and then Orion would have access to all the young people he wanted. The urge to vomit swelled up through my stomach and burned the back of my throat. 

“Children are normally hard to possess, aren’t they?” That was why it had taken a full pentagram when the black coven was trying to have India possessed so many months ago. At least, that was what I understood. 

Bert bobbed his head. “Yes, it can be very difficult to possess a child. There is a natural protection over the young when it comes to demons, something the elementals put into play.” He grimaced as he said ‘elemental’ and again I wondered at these particular supernaturals that I’d only just been hearing about. “But when the small humans are ill, that protection goes into keeping them alive, rather than keeping them from being possessed.”

Feeling like a bully, but not really caring, I leaned in to Bert. “How did the bubonic plague really start?”

An interesting thing happened. Bert paled and shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

My eyebrows shot up and I glanced at Erik. “You want to make him talk, or do you want me to make him talk?”

Erik shrugged. “Either way is fine. I haven’t interrogated a demon in years. I’ve missed it.”

Bert paled even more and his lower lip trembled. “I can’t tell you. I can’t. Tracker, Slayer both of you have to trust me. Please.”

“Begging will get you nowhere, little demon.” Erik growled. He had a short, serrated knife in his hand that he’d pulled from somewhere within his robes. It was curved, like a skinning knife, and if it hadn’t been for the rough edges that’s what I would have called it.

“Track demons and evil spirits.” Bert blurted out as he fell to his knees. “Proof I am on your side. Track them; you’ll see it isn’t me fooling you.”

Erik paused and looked over at me. “Up to you. Personally, I’d just as soon dice him up.”

“Fuck, why not, Tracking will take me two seconds.” I grumbled. 

I send out a thread to Track demons as a whole, paired with a thread for evil spirits, just to satisfy—
Holy. Fucking. Hell.

I swayed on my feet and went to one knee, the overwhelming wash of pings I got back seriously making me re-think getting out of bed the day before. 

We were surrounded by Orion’s minions. 

Hundreds of them.

About the Author

Shannon Mayer lives in the southwestern tip of Canada with her husband, dog, cats, horse, and cows. When not writing she spends her time staring at immense amounts of rain, herding old people (similar to herding cats) and attempting to stay out of trouble. Especially that last is difficult for her.

She is the author of the The Rylee Adamson Novels, The Nevermore Trilogy, A Celtic Legacy series and several contemporary romances.  

Please visit her website at http://www.shannonmayer.com for more information on her novels. 

Blog:  http://www.shannonmayer.com

Amazon Author Page:  http://www.amazon.com/Shannon-Mayer/e/B005L43124/ 

Click HERE to enter the giveaway Rafflecopter.

Loving the Enemy. Faith of the Highlander- The MacLomain Series: Next Generation.

It’s that time again! As you know I’ve been staying very busy this year writing The MacLomain Series: Next Generation. The past few months have been especially interesting as I got to know Grant MacLomain better. Imprisoned for more than half his life by the evil Keir Hamilton, he finally gets a chance at freedom. And who’s there to help him through the turbulent feelings of being out from beneath Keir’s tyranny? None other than Sheila.

I really enjoyed writing about these two and helping them through their struggles. Of all the couples in this series, I felt they deserved to find one another the most. So I won’t keep you waiting a minute longer. Faith of the Highlander is available now!


Like her cousins, Sheila wears a Claddagh ring meant to connect her Broun lineage with the MacLomain clan. Already having witnessed the strife ravaging the medieval Scottish highlands she’s eager to once more be thrust back in time…even if it’s into the arms of the enemy. 

Imprisoned fourteen winters and now first-in-command of the enemy’s army, Grant MacLomain must find a way to save all those he cares for. Though under the watchful eye of his master and chieftain, Keir Hamilton, he unleashes his plan the moment he connects with a lass from the future. 

Through hardship, forgiveness and even acceptance, Grant and Sheila struggle to push past their abused hearts and the war that divides them in, Faith of the Highlander. 


Sheila started to tremble when he broke free from the last of whatever or whoever had imprisoned him. A shiver raced through her and she knew.

Grant had just broken free from Keir Hamilton’s mental hold over him.

He tore off his tunic and whipped it aside. With nothing but the Hamilton’s plaid hung low on his waist, he was an impressive sight. Legs braced, arms by his side, fists clenched, he closed his eyes. Cast in the soft, flickering glow of a single sputtering torch, sweat slicked muscles rippled down his long warrior’s body. Was he praying? Long moments passed. Every one of them a lifetime as her heart thundered. Then, as if replacing one swift divine moment with another, his eyes snapped open and met hers.

It felt like a freight train hit her.

“Och, my wee geal,” he whispered.

Wee what?

Sheila made to speak but the words died on her lips when in two swift strides, he pulled her into his arms. The word ‘wee’ seemed a massive understatement when up against him. Though she was fairly tall at five foot seven, he had to be a foot taller. Lord, she felt tiny! What had been but a tremble became a harsh fiery heat that whiplashed through her body. Emotional state and sensory awareness in overdrive, she put her hands against his hard chest.

“Oh, I shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured. But she didn’t pull her hands away.

No, if anything she pressed tighter and curled her fingers slightly. It was one thing to meet a man in your mind, another thing entirely to feel him pressed up against your body. When he tilted up her chin, her eyes slid shut. Why, she’d never know. She supposed somewhere deep inside she wasn’t ready to look too closely into his eyes.

But why?

Perhaps she was afraid of what she’d see there. Perhaps though he seemed so strong she’d see years of mental abuse flicker in his gaze. Mental abuse inflicted by Keir being twisted within his mind for so long. The very idea of it made her sick to her stomach.

But none of that mattered when she felt his warm breath whisper over her lips. Close, so very close. She could all but feel his mouth hovering over hers. Time slowed as her lips fell open. Sensation heightened. A slow burn covered her cheeks. An ever so slight throbbing began first on the sides of her neck as emotion welled. Her heart pounded so strongly that her lips pulsed, ready for the pressure, the weight of his mouth against hers.

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Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Born to Protect, Ruled by Passion. Dark Sentinels Series by Dariel Raye.

"Dark Sentinels"
Born to protect, ruled by passion

Washington State native, Syreena, learned at an early age to depend on her twin brother, Sable, and herself, but when conversations with a Georgia sentinel prompt her to surprise him with an impromptu visit, the realization of Cord’s greatest fear seems inevitable.

Colleen Everly says: Loved it! Having already read the next two books in the series this is a great prequel. ...I loved the way the author gave you a glimpse to see what the next books were/are about. I also loved how this female is a bit like his lost sister. Great series.

Jacklynn Sizemore says: Just amazing!!! ... So looking forward to the three book to this series!!! It's a must read!!!!

Akila is a veterinarian with a soft heart. Sable is a sentinel wolf shifter. Together, Sable and Akila must learn to trust each other enough to overcome a new, deadly enemy.

Studentwriter says: ...it is brilliant! ...it will flow with great excitement and likable characters from the first page....Very exciting! Of course, the good guys will win in the end. That end does not come in Book One, but the interim sex is so good, we don't mind!

PRG )Paranormal Romance Guild) says:...This is a novella but it reads like a full novel, mystery, betrayal, love and romance. This is the first in the Sentinel’s series and I can’t wait for more. Although a short story, it was very entertaining. Akila is a wonderful character and her devotion to animals is beautiful.

When greedy land developers set their sights on Dark Sentinel land, Torin, a sentinel wolf shifter, turns to attorney Stephanie Bates for help. His greatest challenge, however, is uppity human Attorney Stephanie Bates and the surprising effect she has on his heart, and she'll need his protection to stay alive long enough to protect his land.

PRG says: ...In this book we are also brought up to date on what happened with Sable and Akila. ...This was every bit as wonderful as the first, romance, sex and the constant presence of evil.....I can’t wait for the next book so I can get some more answers and meet another hunky alpha and another amazing potential mate.

Catrina Barton says: Wow! Torin DuMont is larger than life, and commands attention from the first moment we meet him. He's brash and very much an alpha male. ... Their exciting adventure is full of many unexpected twists.... The book will grab your attention and run away with it. Dariel Raye certainly knows how to keep the pages turning.

Excerpt from "Dark Sentinels Book Two: Torin"

She was too tired to argue with the dictator, his unfriendly sister and their silent, dangerous-looking friends, so she quietly slid into his SUV as soon as he opened the door for her and relaxed against the leather seat. Uneasy about the break-in and the whole situation, she jumped as Torin whipped the seatbelt across her waist and clicked it in place before walking around to the driver seat.

“Um, thank you.” She smiled, unable to remember a time when anyone had ever fastened her seatbelt for her before Torin. Even that strange action was oddly comforting. She found herself wondering if he did that for anyone else.

She turned toward him, struck by the hard lines of his profile and his broad shoulders. His clothes were worn, a black T-shirt washed nearly dark gray to match his eyes, revealing a sculpted six-pack and fitted blue jeans that hugged a perfect, muscular ass and an impressive front bulge. Steph looked away, embarrassed by the direction her mind kept taking with a man who had shown no interest in her other than responsible concern.

She crossed her arms over her breasts. “So…did you get things taken care of?”

Torin shook his head once, watching the road. “No.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she tried again. “Sounded like it was pretty important. I’m—”

“Don’t want to talk about that. You have any neighbors around during the day?”

Now it was Steph’s turn to shake her head. “No, not really. I’m pretty sure most of them work.”

Torin glanced at her with emotion in his eyes just a moment before he turned back to the road. Was that warmth or pity?

It occurred to her that she would have been more than annoyed with anyone else who abruptly changed the subject on her like he’d just done, but somehow she was learning to accept his differences. She realized in the moment that Dr. Torin DuMont could very likely get away with things she wouldn’t tolerate from anyone else.

Steph caught herself staring at his hands as he gripped the steering wheel. She couldn’t help imagining them on her body, replaying steamy scenes from her dreams. She took a deep breath and turned to look out of the window, seeking the same mental escape she’d sought the first time she’d been in his SUV.

Torin glanced at Steph when they arrived at her apartment, silently commanding her to wait until he opened her door.

She took his hand, allowing him to help her out of the SUV. Heat suffused her entire body, an electrical current sizzling along the path from her breasts to her core as soon as she touched him. The intensity of his touch, his very presence, elicited flashes of something wild, uncontrollable.

He froze, a nearly inhuman stillness, a slight frown marring his handsome features. He felt something, too, and he didn’t appear to be happy about it.

Tasha, Moon, and Sphynx got out of Steph’s car and stepped up behind Torin.

It wasn’t until he released her that she realized Torin had been holding her hand while he was standing completely still.

Torin reached in the back seat and removed what looked like a medical bag, then glanced at her briefly before walking toward the apartment complex, Sphynx, Moon, and Tasha falling in behind him.

“Oh no!” The pitiful moan escaped Steph’s lips as soon as she saw the condition of her apartment again, this time getting a better look at it since the initial shock had worn off. Drawer contents littered the floor, closet doors were open, and cushions were ripped, their stuffing adding to the chaos.

Torin touched her hand, eliciting a visceral response, despite the situation. He was donning gloves, and with those gloved hands, he removed something from his bag, then turned to her again. “While we see what we can find, pack what you need.”

“Pack? Why? Where am I going?”

“You’re coming with me.” He stepped away from her and started dusting every surface, placing items in plastic bags, as if no one would dare ever question his commands. Obviously, in his world, his word was final.

“I’m what?”

Torin turned toward her again, addressing her as if she was a distraction. “You’re coming with me. I can’t protect you from a distance, and I certainly can’t be in two places at once.”

“But I-I can’t just drop everything and go with you.”

He made a sweeping motion across the room. “Would you rather stay here? I’m not gonna argue with you, Ms. Bates. You called me. If you want my help, you’ll do as I say, and you’ll do it now. It won’t take us long to sweep your place even in this condition.” His raspy voice seemed to grow even deeper as he spoke barely above a whisper, his demands allowing no argument.

Steph rolled her eyes, then headed to her bedroom to start packing. Torin was no diplomat, but he would keep her safe. This was no time to let her pride get her killed. The sight greeting her as she stepped in her bedroom was even more depressing than her living area. Packing would be no easy feat with her belongings dumped from her drawers, clothes strewn across the floor. She couldn’t possibly find, let alone pack what she needed in a few minutes.

She had second thoughts and nearly turned around to tell Torin she had someplace else to stay, but the time for wishful thinking—let alone prideful stupidity—was over. She couldn’t stay here, and there was no place else to stay. She needed his help now more than ever, even if she didn’t want to need anyone.

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