Posts Tagged ‘historical’

Welcome to Teaser Tuesday hosted by Ambrosia  @ The Purple Booker.

Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
• Grab your current read.
• Open to a random page.
•Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

 

My Teaser for this week is from

 The Samsaric

by G.W. Lwin

27977952

 

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Genre: Historical / Fantasy / Horror

 My teaser from page 48 in the paperback.

“So where were we? Oh yes, three against one,” Wither said, his fingers outstretched, each nail as long and sharp as a bear’s claw.

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Read on if you want to know more.

SAMSARA: "The cycle of birth, death and rebirth within the realms of existence …" The plague of 1918 A.D. The mortal world is in a state of devastation. A woman wakes up in an abandoned temple of Kali, the goddess of darkness, in the ancient city of Gaya. She does not know where she is. She does not remember the events leading to this. She only hears the familiar voice of a tormented man who has haunted in her dreams. He tells her a story – of a time of souls and suffering, of immortality and gods, of life and death. This, he says, is Mesopotamia. The SAMSARIC is a fast-paced fantasy-horror novel full of history, horror and vampirism from an ancient era.

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How about you? Got a tease? Tell me!

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The Rise of Miss Notley

by Rachael Anderson

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When Miss Coralynn Notley’s father barters her off to the first titled gentleman to come along, she realizes she must flee her home or be forced to wed a despicable man. Driven by desperation, she applies for the position of housekeeper at Tanglewood Manor, the home of the handsome Mr. Jonathan Ludlow. The moment Jonathan sees Miss Notley, he is intrigued. She is far too young and inexperienced, yet there is something about her that that inspires a certain hope within him. Does he dare offer her the position of housekeeper or will doing so result in catastrophe?

 

Excerpt

Cora nodded and followed Mr. Ludlow into the parlor. He closed the doors and stood in front of them with his arms folded, looking far more intimidating than he had during their last meeting. He said nothing, merely lifted an inquiring eyebrow and waited.
Caught unprepared, Cora stared at him, trying to organize her thoughts into words. After a few moments of awkward silence, he lost patience. “What is it you wished to speak with me about, Mrs. Notley? Or are we to stand here staring at each other all afternoon?”
Not knowing how else to begin, Cora blurted, “Why have you hired me, sir?”
He blinked a few times before frowning. “I believe I have made that perfectly clear. You are to be the housekeeper, are you not?”
This was going to be more difficult than she had imagined. “Yes, of course, but there has been some talk about, or rather concerns expressed . . .” How did one put this delicately?
“About . . .?” he prodded, obviously not thrilled that his morning regime had been waylaid.
“About the reasons I have been offered the position,” she quickly said, hoping that would be enough to make him understand her meaning.
Unfortunately, his brows drew together in confusion. “What are you saying, Mrs. Notley? I have hired you to do certain duties that will hopefully make my household run more smoothly. What other reason could I possibly have for offering you the position?”
“You have hired me to do a job I am untrained to do,” she said. “While I am grateful for the opportunity, I also find it necessary to clarify that I have come here to be a housekeeper and only a housekeeper. Even though I am young and . . .” Her voice drifted off. Had she almost referred to herself as pretty? Goodness, this was proving to be very awkward indeed.
“Beautiful?” he finally guessed, not looking at all pleased with the direction the conversation was taking.
“I was going to say not repulsive,” she fibbed.
“Very well,” he said. “Even though you are young and not repulsive . . .” He moved his hand in a circular gesture, urging her to finish her thought.
Cora straightened her shoulders and forced herself to continue. “I am not the sort of girl who would ever . . . fraternize with her employer.” Her face infused with heat, but she forced her gaze to remain steady.
“I see.” He walked slowly towards her, rubbing his chin with his hand. A few steps away, he stopped and eyed her quizzically. “Have I made any improper advances towards you?”
“No, sir.”
“Have I spoken to you in an unprofessional manner?”
“No.”
“Have I looked at you in a way that has made you feel uncomfortable?”
“No.” Cora suddenly wished she had not felt the need to clarify anything. He made her feel as though she had put the cart before the horse when what she had been trying to do was see that the cart and horse simply stayed in their proper places. Was that so wrong?
“Might I ask who, exactly, has led you to believe that I am the sort of man capable of—how did you put it? Fraternizing with my help?”
“I, er, would rather not say, sir.” Though Cora felt no loyalty towards Sally, she refused to bring Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd’s names into the conversation. “I did not mean to besmirch your name or cause any offense, Mr. Ludlow. I merely wanted to make my feelings on the matter clear.”
“And you have.”
“Good.” Cora dropped into a quick curtsy, anxious to get away. “I shall go and find Watts now.”
She was almost to the door when his voice stopped her. “Once again, you are attempting to scuttle away before we have completed our conversation.”
Slowly, she turned around and lifted her eyes to his. “I never scuttle, sir.”
“What would you call that rapid walk of yours?”
“A rapid walk.”

 

RachaelAuthor Rachael Anderson

A USA Today bestselling author, Rachael Anderson is the mother of four and is pretty good at breaking up fights, or at least sending guilty parties to their rooms. She can’t sing, doesn’t dance, and despises tragedies. But she recently figured out how yeast works and can now make homemade bread, which she is really good at eating.

Website

 

 

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$50 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Giveaway

Ends 3/15/17

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE

 

 
 a-very-scary-christmas-banner-oubliette-2
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Have a Very Scary Christmas
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This time of the year is often
happy, filled with cheer and the spirit of giving. For those who enjoy
something a little darker, though, there are plenty of thrills on the movie
front.
If you like things that are
twisted and dark, then here are the top five scary holiday movies you can
watch:
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Jack Frost
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Nothing like a killer snowman
named Jack Frost to get you in the mood for the holidays, right? This 1997
thriller is a classic holiday romp you are sure to enjoy. The movie takes place
in the fictional town of Snowmonton, where a truck carrying serial killer Jack
Frost to his execution crashes into a genetics truck. The genetic material
causes Jack’s body to mutate and fuse together with the snow on the ground. As
you can imagine, what happens next is pretty freaky and fun!
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Gremlins
 

As cute as those little buggers
are when they are soft, fuzzy Mogwai, they are delightfully evil as Gremlins.
They wreak havoc during Christmas when a boy inadvertently breaks three
important rules about getting his new pet wet. This is a family favorite and if
you’ve never seen it, now it is the season.

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Silent Night, Deadly Night



A slasher flick that brings us
all back to the 80s, this film is perfect for fans of serial killer movies.
It’s tehe story of an escaped maniac who returns to his childhood home on
Christmas Eve, which is now a sorority house, and begins to murder the sorority
sisters one by one. There is lots of blood and gore, watch this one with the
lights low after the kids are in bed.

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Krampus
Released last year, Krampus is
based on a German legend and takes the notion of St. Nick and spins it in a
whole new direction. It’s about a boy who has a bad Christmas ends up
accidentally summoning this festive demon to his family home. Lots of jumpy
moments make this a must-watch during the holidays.
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The
Nightmare Before Christmas
Okay, this is considered a
Halloween flick, too, but it certainly crosses over and spans two of the best
holidays of the year. You see, Jack Skellington, king of Halloween Town,
discovers Christmas Town, but doesn’t quite understand the concept. Can you
blame him? Tim Burton is a master and this film can be enjoyed by young and old
anytime during the season.
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Oubliette: A Forgotten Little Place
Vanta M. Black
Genre: Fiction, Thriller, Paranormal, 
Historical Fiction, Genre-Fiction, 
New Adult, Horror
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Publisher: Black Chateau Publishing
Date of Publication: March 2016
ISBN: 978-0-9964488-2-6 / ISBN: 978-0-9964488-1-9
ISBN: 978-0-9964488-0-2
Number of pages: 566 / Word Count: 247,912
Cover Artist: Black Chateau Enterprises
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My Review
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This is a rather long book but reads quickly as the author transports you back in time and forward to the present, giving you multiple perspectives that enrich this tale of historical horror.  And it all starts with a ten-year-old girl, Veronica, suffering from what everyone believes are night terrors.

The author then flashes to the present. Veronica is all grown up and struggling to make it on her own as an interior designer. A mysterious invitation to come to France for the summer and do a complete makeover at the historical Le Chateau du Feu Ardent, which means The  Castle Of Blazing Fire, sounds like a dream come true to her. But she could never have imagined the nightmares that await.

Veronica invites her sister, Nikki, to come along. Nikki is a bit spoiled and self-centered but I still found her a delight. She adds that light- hearted humor that provides a break in the suspense, allowing you to fully connect with these two sisters. But all isn’t light and laughter as the two are exposed to something dark, insidious. It will be a summer they’ll never forget, and maybe won’t survive.

Oubliette is filled with historical fact that blends the real and fictional. The author’s ability to do this shines in her descriptions of the different periods. You feel like you’ve stepped in a time capsule and are actually seeing the places she reveals.

The cover was what first caught my attention. I thought I was getting a horror story. And I did. But I also got much, much more, and I highly recommend this tale.

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4 Stars
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Book Description
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Veronica knows the monsters aren’t “just in her head”, but no one listens to the headstrong ten-year-old as they tie her to a hospital bed every night.
Years later, after being dumped by her business-partner/boyfriend, Veronica finds herself on the verge of bankruptcy. Then a late-night call promises the perfect solution — a job opportunity decorating a castle in France.
Will Veronica risk what little she has left to chase a fairytale?
When the shadowy things that once terrorized her come back, Veronica must decide how much she’ll sacrifice for them, for her sanity, and for her life.
This epic book consists of interwoven stories with paranormal twists. A horror-filled historical fiction adventure, it spans nearly two millennia.
You’ll be transported to an ancient Pagan ritual, Roman-ruled Gaul, the bloody Inquisition of the Knights Templar, France as it’s ravaged by the Black Death, the duplicitous Reformation, the Paris Catacombs, and the gory French Revolution, while you unravel Oubliette’s cryptic layers.
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Amazon    BN    Author Website
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Excerpt One from Oubliette—A Forgotten Little Place by Vanta M. Black – From the Prologue to Veronica’s Story
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Veronica didn’t understand why they looked for the monsters in her head, that’s obviously not where they were. Instead of listening, the doctors stuck pads with wires to her temples and increased the dosage of an IV that dripped into her veins.
They also told the nurses to tie her down with thick, leather belts every night.
The tethers didn’t matter though, because when the monsters came, she wouldn’t be able to move anyway. The only thing Veronica could ever do was scream.
The doctors called them “night terrors”. The pudgy lady who talked funny –– she told Veronica it was her accent –– said they were “spirits”. Mommy used the term “shadow people”. Veronica just called them “monsters”, and wished they’d stop scaring her when she slept. 
They wanted her. Deep inside, on a primal level, Veronica knew the monsters –– or whatever they were –– craved her, and if given the chance, they would do something very, very bad to her. 
The little girl tried to explain this to the doctors, the nurses, the accent-talking lady, and her mother, but none of the adults really listened. Instead they argued and shouted at each other, and huffed in and out of the room –– but the thing that frightened Veronica the most, is when the adults would simply shrug their shoulders, and admit that they really didn’t have any idea what the monsters were at all.

 

 

 

 

About the Author:
Vanta M. Black, author of Oubliette—A Forgotten Little Place, enjoys uncovering the dark mysteries of our Universe.
In addition to writing,  she enjoys traveling to provocative places and studying all things esoteric.
Black has degrees in English, communication and art. She resides in Southern California with her husband and two pug-mix dogs, and spends her time in support of causes that empower women and advance science and technology.
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HORROR WRITING PROMOTION
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 The Oh Lá Lá Oubliette Fan Fiction Contest gives writers the opportunity to win a trip to France! This is ideal for horror fans who love to read and write. 
 
The criteria is simple. Writers are asked to submit between 500 and 10,000 words. 
 
Any of the many story lines or characters from the book may be used for inspiration. A judging panel will evaluate fan fiction submissions on story structure, creativity, and authenticity to the book. 
 
Entries can be flash fiction, biographical, historical, poem, or 
nearly any other narrative format.
 

 

 

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Historical biographies may not be my normal reading genre, but if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that you miss those hidden gems if you don’t read outside the box.

Madam President sounds like one of those gems.

Check out The Secret Presidency Of Edith Wilson.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

Madam President
Madam President: The Secret Presidency of Edith Wilson by William Hazelgrove

After President Woodrow Wilson suffered a paralyzing stroke in the fall of 1919, his wife, First Lady Edith Wilson, began to handle the day-to-day responsibilities of the Executive Office. Mrs. Wilson had had little formal education and had only been married to President Wilson for four years; yet, in the tenuous peace following the end of World War I, Mrs. Wilson dedicated herself to managing the office of the President, reading all correspondence intended for her bedridden husband. Though her Oval Office authority was acknowledged in Washington, D.C. circles at the time–one senator called her “the Presidentress who had fulfilled the dream of suffragettes by changing her title from First Lady to Acting First Man”–her legacy as “First Woman President” is now largely forgotten.

William Hazelgrove’s Madam President is a vivid, engaging portrait of the woman who became the acting President of the United States in 1919, months before women officially won the right to vote.

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Praise

William Hazelgrove’s riveting style lets us into the backrooms of the White House to see how a woman who had only two years formal education was able to pull it off and do it for two years! A great read and ride!
~Robin Hutton New York Times Bestselling Author of Sgt Reckless

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Excerpt – Chapter One

The Cover-Up

President Woodrow Wilson lay with his mouth drooping, unconscious, having suffered a thrombosis on October 2, 1919, that left him paralyzed on his left side and barely able to speak. The doctors believed the president’s best chance for survival was in the only known remedy for a stroke at the time: a rest cure consisting of total isolation from the world.

His wife of four years, Edith Bolling Wilson, asked how a country could function with no chief executive. Dr. Dercum, the attending physician, leaned over and gave Edith her charge: “Madam, it is a grave situation, but I think you can solve it. Have everything come to you; weigh the importance of each matter: and see if it is possible by consultation with the respective heads of the Departments to solve them without the guidance of your husband.”

From there, Edith Wilson would act as the president’s proxy and run the White House and, by extension, the country, by controlling access to the president, signing documents, pushing bills through Congress, issuing vetoes, isolating advisors, crafting State of the Union addresses, disposing of or censoring correspondence, and filling positions. She would analyze every problem and decide which ones to bring to the president’s attention and which to solve on her own through her own devices. All the while she had to keep the fact that the country was no longer being run by President Woodrow Wilson a guarded secret.

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hazelgroveAuthor William Hazelgove

William Elliott Hazelgrove is the best-selling author of thirteen novels, Ripples, Tobacco Sticks, Mica Highways, Rocket Man, The Pitcher, Real Santa, Jackpine and The Pitcher 2. His books have received starred reviews in Publisher Weekly and Booklist, Book of the Month Selections, Junior Library Guild Selections, ALA Editors Choice Awards and optioned for the movies. He was the Ernest Hemingway Writer in Residence where he wrote in the attic of Ernest Hemingway’s birthplace. He has written articles and reviews for USA Today and other publications. He has been the subject of interviews in NPR’s All Things Considered along with features in The New York Times, LA Times, Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun Times, Richmond Times Dispatch, USA Today, People, Channel 11, NBC, WBEZ, WGN. The Pitcher is a Junior Library Guild Selection and was chosen Book of the Year by Books and Authors. net. His next book Jackpine will be out Spring 2014 with Koehler Books. A follow up novel Real Santa will be out fall of 2014. Madam President The Secret Presidency of Edith Wilson will be out Fall 2016. Storyline optioned the movie rights. Forging a President How the West Created Teddy Roosevelt will be out May 2017.

Website * Blog * Facebook * Twitter

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amazon or paypal$100 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Giveaway

Ends 11/8/16

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

 

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky kitty below!

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Coven Enforcers Banner two

This series sounds fabulous. And I fell in love with the book covers. Check out Ann Gimpel’s Coven Enforcers series!

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Blood and Magic

Coven Enforcers

Book One

Ann Gimpel

 

Dream Shadow Press

63K words

Release Date: 7/18/16

Genre: Historical paranormal romance with a steampunk edge

 

Coven Enforcers = Dark, Dangerous, Magical Men

Coven Witches bow to no one—least of all Enforcers.

Sparks ignite. Tempers run high. Passion explodes. Hot. Sweet. Impossible to ignore….

Book Description:

Magic didn’t just find Luke Caulfield. It chased him down, bludgeoned him, and has been dogging him ever since. Some lessons are harder than others, but Luke embraces danger, upping the ante to give it one better. An enforcer for the Coven, a large, established group of witches, his latest assignment is playing bodyguard to the daughter of Coven leaders.

Abigail Ruskin is chaperoning a spoiled twelve-year-old from New York to her parents’ home in Utah Territory when Luke gets on their stagecoach in Colorado. A powerful witch herself, Abigail senses Luke’s magic, but has no idea what he’s doing on her stagecoach. Stuck between the petulant child and Luke’s raw sexual energy, Abigail can’t wait for the trip to end.

Unpleasant truths surface about the child. While Abigail’s struggling with those, wraiths, wolves, and dark mages launch an attack. Luke’s so attracted to Abigail, she’s almost all he can think about, but he’s leery too. The child is just plain evil.

Is Abigail in league with her? It might explain the odd attack that took out their driver and one of their horses. In over his head, he summons enforcer backup.

Will they help him save the woman he’s falling in love with, or demand her immediate execution?

Amazon    BN    iBooks    Google Play    ARe    Author’s Store

 

Excerpt from Blood and Magic:

…Cursing her long skirts and cumbersome petticoats, Abigail used magic to skip the coach steps. Power blazed from her hands before she could see what she was aiming at. She was afraid if she took even a few seconds to hunt for a target, something would get her. Being dead wasn’t desirable, but it was better than the other things wraiths could do to her. Those turned her blood to ice chips.

With her booted feet planted firmly on the ground, Abigail finally got a good look at the wraiths. She drew magic from deep in the earth and sent it chasing after them when they jumped sideways to evade her magic. Insubstantial as tall, thin puffs of smoke, they had glowing charcoal eyes. Long, blood red claws graced what passed for hands. Binding their victims with fiery strands was a favorite trick—just before they sucked your soul right out of you, leaving a handy vessel for one of their masters to occupy. Wraiths used to feed only on the living, making them into new wraiths. They’d been bad enough then, but now they functioned as hired thugs for practitioners of the Black Arts. It lent them the ability to operate in broad daylight. Abigail wondered which group of sorcerers this crew worked for. The Alchemical Council? Black Magick?

Good God but there were a lot of them. Why? Surely they weren’t interested in the contents of the coach, which only carried mail and Carolyn’s substantial luggage. Ducking and spinning to escape being entwined in a blazing net, she thought about the girl’s steamer trunks. Abigail only helped pack two of them. The third had been locked and ready to go. Could that possibly be what the wraiths were after?

She shut off her thoughts so she could focus. The ragged sound of her own panting thrummed loud in her ears as she chucked one killing blow after another. Bolts of blue-white light flared from both hands. No point in running anything less than wide open. For each wraith she obliterated, three more showed up to take its place. Her chest ached from breathing sooty air and wraith stench.

Heat seared her back. Damnation! Her skirts were on fire. Abigail funneled magic behind her to quell the flames, but it didn’t work. Smoke stung her nostrils. Fire had already eaten a long gouge in one of her hands. If she dropped to the ground to deal with her burning clothes, the wraiths would pounce. Terror licked at her along with the flames.

In spite of her brave thoughts earlier, she didn’t want to die. Not here. And not like this. She cursed her corset. It was hard to get a decent breath. If she’d known she was going to have to fight—

“Keep after ’em,” Luke growled from behind her. “I have your dress under control.” She felt him drape something heavy around her shoulders—a lap robe he must’ve snatched from inside the coach—and press it close against her with his body. Gratitude wrapped warm tentacles around her. Having him right next to her made her already pounding heart do flip-flops, but she forced herself to focus on something other than all those rock-hard muscles jammed against her back.

“Are they all on this side of the coach?” she wheezed, still struggling to breathe. Between the smoke, her stays, and Luke’s body so near, it was a losing battle.

“Pretty much. Guess they want you more than me. Actually, they’ve been trying to get to the trunks up top.”

A discordant warning note sounded in the back of her mind. What the hell was in the girl’s luggage that would draw wraiths? Her back wasn’t hot anymore, so she assumed the fire was out.

That fire, maybe. The one inside me is just getting going…

She squirmed from more than the smoke and struggled not to turn around and press the front of herself against Luke. They had bigger problems than his undeniable charisma. Luke didn’t seem to be in a hurry to move away, though. He remained front to back with her, and she absorbed power flowing from him. Damn, but he was strong. What she wouldn’t give for that kind of magic.

It would help if I could breathe…

With difficulty, Abigail forced her mind away from Luke’s charms. “The driver?” She hadn’t been round to the front of the wagon to check.

“Dead.”

“Ever driven one of these things?”

“Concentrate on killing, woman. If we can’t get shut of the wraiths, ’twon’t matter a diddly damn.”

 

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Blood and Sorcery

Coven Enforcers

Book Two

Ann Gimpel

 

Dream Shadow Press

64K words

Release Date: 8/1/16

Genre: Historical paranormal romance with a steampunk edge

 

Coven Enforcers = Dark, Dangerous, Magical Men

Coven Witches bow to no one—least of all Enforcers.

Sparks ignite. Tempers run high. Passion explodes. Hot. Sweet. Impossible to ignore….

Book Description:

Joshua committed his life to fighting Black Magick. Not sure who he hates worse, dark sorcerers or the clerics who tortured and mutilated his family, he lives on the road with his horse and his magic, working as a Coven enforcer. Breana Giraud is the only woman he’s ever loved, and until very recently she was married to someone else.

Breana’s husband, Don, sold his soul to the devil, embracing dark practices. Along the way, he corrupted their daughter. While Breana could’ve turned him in to Coven justice without a second thought, she couldn’t bring herself to implicate her child. Still reeling from her daughter’s death at the hands of evil, and grateful her husband met the vicious end he deserved, she feels broken, damaged. The last thing on her mind is falling in love.

Joshua tries to hold back, give Breana room to mourn her losses, but if he has his way, she’ll become his wife. With Don dead, and the path to his heart’s true love finally clear, he’ll do anything he can to make her his. Even if it means fighting his way past the dark mages’ leader, who wants her for his own.

 

Excerpt from Blood and Sorcery:

Salt Lake City, Utah Territory

Breana Giraud bolted upright in her bed, the darkness around her shattering into fire-tinged motes of black. Heart thudding hard against her chest, throat constricted with fear, she reached for power, intent on shrouding herself in a protective spell. Goddamn her husband. He was at it again. It was like him to wait until she was sleeping—and she had to sleep sometime.

Once upon a time, she’d cared about Don—a witch with power to match her own. But he’d been seduced by the dark and become deeply entrenched in Black Magick. Shielding herself against him drained her, but she didn’t have any choice. Sucking air around the narrow place that used to be her throat, she sent magic spiraling outward. She didn’t sense him near, but the enchantment that just dragged her from a sound sleep had Don’s name—and sliminess—stamped all over it.

Her eyes snapped open. Don was dead.

Dead.

What the hell was happening to her?

He couldn’t harm her anymore, so why was his stench all over the room? It wasn’t even the bedroom they’d shared. She’d moved to the far end of the hall to escape the horrible memories that swamped her every time she thought about him.

Guess that didn’t work very well.

She pressed her tongue hard against her teeth and reached for her magic again. Surely she could summon a mage light. Simplest of spells, it required almost nothing in the way of power. Finally, after she was shaking and sweating with effort, a wavery blue light formed, casting the bedroom in eerie shadows. Breana urged her light to burn hotter, brighter. Her teeth were chattering, and she felt as if she’d never be warm again. Icy sweat dripped down her sides.

She tugged the heavy, wool blanket around her shuddering form, but it didn’t help so she dragged air hard into lungs that had nearly forgotten how to cooperate. And then did it again. And again, until she was able to clamp her jaws in a harsh, desperate line.

Her light flickered and brightened, and the ball of fear making it hard to breathe eased the slightest bit. Falling back asleep was laughable, so she dug her way out from under the covers and pulled a robe woven from soft, cream-colored wool over her linen nightdress. Sheepskin slippers came next.

At least the godawful chill that had permeated the air was dissipating, and the reek of evil along with it. Brimstone held a sulfur taint that burned the back of her throat and made her skin prickle with a million points of discomfort.

She blinked back tears as she made her way downstairs, her mage light bouncing over one shoulder. The dark had taken both her husband and her daughter, and robbed her of what had once been a warm and comfortable marriage. She hated Black Magick with a passion. Hated what it had almost done to her as she walked a tightrope between her husband’s demands and her responsibility to the Coven.

“Yeah, and I did a shitty job all the way round,” she muttered as she poured a cup of tepid coffee into a mug. It was bitter as all get out from sitting on the back of the woodstove since early the previous morning, but she gulped it down anyway, wanting the quick stimulation.

Too keyed up to sit, she wandered to a window and looked to the east. Dawn wasn’t far off, but the horizon was still dark. Days were growing longer, but it was still winter, and it might not get light until seven. She’d sent a meticulous letter to Coven headquarters in New York. Within it, she detailed her sins in not turning her husband and daughter over to Coven justice—once she fully understood their allegiance had shifted to dark power.

That letter had certainly arrived by now.

What would they do to her?

A snort of derision curled her mouth into a bitter smile. She knew what she’d do to someone in her position. Banish them from the Coven for starters. After that, it would be anyone’s guess, but the Coven wouldn’t be out of line demanding her life as punishment for shielding her family from what they deserved.

Not much she could do. About any of it. No. She needed to keep going, day by day, and let the wheel spin as it would. She’d find out soon enough. Certainly by this coming summer when most—if not all—of the Coven had relocated to Utah Territory. At least she’d given Luke and Abigail a good start by marrying them. Memories of that day—and their joy—kept her going through the hardest spots.

She plodded back to the stove and poured the last of the coffee into her cup before she opened the woodstove door and sent a jot of magic to stir the embers. Once they crackled merrily, she added chunks of wood and refilled the kettle on the back of the stove with water

from the pump next to the sink. The chores were automatic, and they settled her nerves enough to dissect what had driven her awake.

Coven enforcers, a group of hard-bodied, sharp-eyed men, who kept witches on the straight and narrow, had seen to it that both Don and her daughter, Carolyn, met their end in mage fire, purging their souls of darkness. And they’d killed Alistair MacDuff, head of the Alchemical Council. She and Abigail had seen to the death of Alistair’s henchman before he, too, was dumped in the purification of mage fire.

“Guess we didn’t get them all,” she muttered as she ground coffee beans with a mortar and pestle.

“If them refers to who I think it does,” Joshua drawled from the kitchen doorway, “of course they’re not all dead. That fresh coffee I smell?”

Breana curved her mouth into a soft smile. “You know damn good and well it is. I drank the dregs from yesterday morning. Hang on till the water boils, and I’ll brew a fresh pot.”

“Don’t rush. I got time.” Joshua moved closer to the stove, extending his hands toward its warmth. Tight-fitting, buff-colored leathers, similar to what most Coven enforcers wore, hugged him like a second skin. Flame red hair hung loose to the middle of his back.

Breana turned to face him squarely and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Looks as if you got up in a hurry. Your hair’s not braided.”

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Blood and Illusion

Coven Enforcers

Book Three

Ann Gimpel

 

Dream Shadow Press

64K words

Release Date: 8/22/16

Genre: Historical paranormal romance with a steampunk edge

 

Coven Enforcers = Dark, Dangerous, Magical Men

Coven Witches bow to no one—least of all Enforcers.

Sparks ignite. Tempers run high. Passion explodes. Hot. Sweet. Impossible to ignore….

Book Description:

Not all witches join the Coven. Fiercely independent, Isla heads up her own small band in the San Francisco area. She’s never needed help before, but dark sorcerers drive her and her group into hiding, trapping them.

Sam’s worked for the Coven as one of their enforcers forever. He’s been there so long, the Coven is the only mistress he knows. It’s a lonely life on the road thwarting wickedness and Black Magick with his guns, his magic, and his horse, but it’s been enough to satisfy him. Until now.

A group of witches is in deep trouble. They’re not part of the Coven, but Sam is sworn to protect all witches and he rides to their assistance with several of his brothers. Nothing prepares him for the outspoken spitfire who ends up riding double with him. She’s forthright, opinionated, and downright hostile, but he’s drawn to her self-sufficiency—and her undeniable beauty. Soon, Isla is all he can think about.

Dark forces are on the move. Protecting the woman he’s falling in love with is at the very top of Sam’s list. If they manage to survive, he’ll tame her. Claim her. Make her his.

 

Excerpt from Blood and Illusion:

…Isla huddled with six other witches in a basement beneath one of the warehouses lining San Francisco’s docks. Her hair hung in filthy strands. Grime caked beneath her nails, and she stank, but at least she was alive. Russian sorcerers—or at least sorcerers who spoke Russian—had killed four of her sisters before she’d dragged the rest of their small band to a defensible position and swathed them in layers and layers of magic.

It had been a short-term solution, but they hadn’t had any choice. Not really. Only problem was they had no easy way out. If they dismantled their spell, the sorcerers would find them in a trice. If they remained where they were, eventually they’d starve to death. She was far weaker than she’d been a week ago when they’d barricaded themselves into the underground room with its dirt floor and dirt walls. Small cutouts high on two walls coincided with ground level, and provided their only source of light.

In desperation, she’d used her power stone to call Hester Thorne, a witch who’d been instrumental drawing their group into a cohesive unit. Hester promised help, but it had yet to materialize. Breath steamed through Isla’s teeth as she bent forward and stirred the shallow pool she’d created from a broken pot made of crockery and water dripping down the walls. It took a while, but the water had finally grown deep enough to become a scrying instrument.

Weariness dogged her, and her vision blurred. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing them to focus next time she dragged her lids open. Thinking it might help, she pushed herself upright and walked around the six- by ten-foot room.

“What are you doing?” Kat eyed her balefully out of bloodshot blue eyes. “I was asleep.” Dirty blonde hair had been braided to keep it out of the way.

“Aye, and ye’ll be asleep permanently if ye’re not careful,” Isla shot back, the brogue from her native Scotland thicker than usual. It was one of the reasons she and Hester had bonded so tightly. Shared roots from Scotland’s Highlands and islands.

“Isla! Come look at your pool!” Rowan cried. Silver hair fell about her, dragging in the dirt, but her brown eyes were lit with hope.

Isla skidded to her knees and stared at the water’s surface. Nine men strutted down the rock-strewn sand fronting the ocean. Tall, rangy, hard-bodied and clad in leathers, it was obvious they were used to ruling the world. At first she thought they were a new passel of sorcerers, but she forced herself to look closer.

Not trusting her first take, she took a ragged breath. Maybe she wished for salvation from the room that was likely to become their crypt so desperately, she was imagining things, “What does it look like to you?” she asked Rowan.

The other woman turned to face her. “Help. That’s what it looks like. Those men are bleeding power, and it’s the good kind.”

The other women skittered across the floor, jostling one another to get close to the pool so they could see.

“Be careful!” Isla cautioned. “Else ye’ll tip the dish, and we might not live long enough for me to refill it.”

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she took in the men. One of them in particular caught her attention and held it. Long, blond hair spilled across his shoulders, and his eyes were a bright, turquoise blue. Strong bones carved his cheekbones into bas-relief, and his jaw was square, determined. Buff colored leathers covered him, and they were skintight, leaving virtually nothing to her imagination. Broad shoulders led to deeply muscled arms and narrow hips with a high, tight ass. Long legs disappeared into boots that laced to his knees.

Her throat grew dry. Many a year had passed since she’d experienced such an immediate reaction to a man, and it confused her.

Must be because I’m half-staved.

Och aye, and ye know better, the other half of her brain inserted dryly. Whoever he was, he was one gorgeous man.

Understanding slammed into her, and she was ashamed she hadn’t put two and two together immediately. “They must be the aid Hester promised.” She glanced at the other women.

Rowan lurched upright. “If that’s true, then we need to go outside and help them.”

Isla licked her chapped lips. “They’re not looking as if they need any help, but at least that way they won’t have to hunt for us, and mayhap we can leave this accursed place.”

“You’re the one with the strongest magic,” Kat pointed out. “And the only one who can project telepathy beyond the enchantment hiding us. See if they answer.”

Isla exhaled sharply. It was a reasonable suggestion, but not without risk. If she was wrong, and those men were actually allied with the dark, she’d have given away their position. Opened them to a certain death. Or worse, imprisonment at the hands of evil.

“I was in your mind,” Rowan said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “We’re as good as dead now. I say we chance it.”

“I was coming around to the same conclusion.” Isla breathed deeply to center herself and drew out her pink moonstone. Before she could think things to death, and her courage failed utterly, she linked to the stone and sent her magic thrumming outward. No need to make things fancy, so she settled on the shortest phrase imaginable.

“Are ye who Hester sent?”

Depending on the answer, she’d ask for proof and take things from there.

About Author Ann Gimpel:

Ann Gimpel

 

Ann Gimpel is a national bestselling author. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. Once upon a time, she nurtured clients, now she nurtures dark, gritty fantasy stories that push hard against reality. When she’s not writing, she’s in the backcountry getting down and dirty with her camera. She’s published over 30 books to date, with several more planned for 2016 and beyond. A husband, grown children, grandchildren and wolf hybrids round out her family.

Find Ann At:

Website / Twitter / Blog / Amazon / Facebook

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Gift: Chronicles Tucker Littlefield by Tegon Maus

Oh happy days! I have such a fun story to share with you today. Tegon Maus has a new one for ya. I can’t wait to tell you all about The Gift: The Chronicles of Tucker Littlefield!

Enjoy my review.

Leave a comment for the author. He likes that!

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

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The Gift: The Chronicles Of Tucker Littlefield by Tegon Maus

Gift byTegonMaus-500

Publisher:  Tirgearr Publishing (April 13, 2016)
Category: Fantasy, Paranormal, Historical Fiction
ASIN:  B01C5Q899U
Tour Date: May/June, 2016
Available in: ebook, 165 Pages

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My Review

I know I’m going to have fun when I open up one of Tegon’s books. He combines characters that live and breathe with humorous dialogue, a plot that you can’t ever see coming, and lots of action.

What could be more fun then a story starting with a character telling a story. Tucker Littlefield stops into the pub to tell a story. People have come from at least 7 different towns to hear him spin a tale. And thus the adventure begins.

You may not like Tucker. He doesn’t particularly like himself. Never one to lend a helping hand, that hand of his will probably be lifting something of yours. A thief and a coward, he’s content to continue with the status quo. But, fate has other ideas and soon he’s on a mission to save a little girl.

There be monsters, both human and not, that are also after the girl. And this is where Tucker’s unsavory life lends him just the stuff he’ll need to get through this. But, he’ll also have to dig deep, find something redeemable in himself, if he’s to succeed.

Page by page, I was drawn deeper into the adventure, not hearing anything around me. You could have shouted at me, told me the zombie apocalypse had started, (which I’m still waiting for), and I wouldn’t have noticed.

And as I read, I was hungry for something. And there it was. Tegon’s humor. I think I’d have to be treated for shock if I ever finished one of his books and didn’t laugh out loud at least a few times.

I started this book with the intention of reading a few chapters and hitting the sack. That didn’t happen. Instead, I stayed up way too late on a work night, pouring over the words, eating up the paragraphs. I was so into it I didn’t even realize the author was bringing me to the end.

As for that ending. Tegon left it wide open to do more with these characters. Mind you, the story does end, though you can continue in your mind and choose to believe what you want. But, oh, I hope this isn’t the end of this tale.

5 Stars

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Synopsis

Tucker Littlefield is a lair, a thief, a con-man . In an attempt to take advantage of a party thrown by the King, he becomes involved in a kidnapping – the King’s niece, Elizabeth, to be exact. Because of his fear of the dark as well as heights, and a good many other things, he finds himself stabbed and bleeding to death.

To save him, a Shaman for the Jonda – Daneba – turns him into a soul bearer for the Kindred. In an effort to find Lizie, Littlefield finds the Norha instead and their leader Tahki – a cannibalistic tribe the lives under a volcano that will leave no stone unturned to find Lizie. Littlefield is blackmailed into her recovery.

Transformed by a primitive magic beyond a civilized man’s understanding, I was given a horrible gift that no man should possess… It held me, twisted me, turning me at its bidding. I was enslaved by its power, compelled to devour the souls of the dead until I became the monster of my fears. I have seen things I wish never to see again. I have done things of which I wish never to speak. Yet I must if I am to find the answers to fulfill my hope.

I have walked upon blue ribbons of molten stone to peer into the depth of a man’s soul. I watched as a promise made at birth brought my friend Enon to sacrifice everything to become whole again – all in an effort to save the life of his child. I have cried without shame for the loss of all I hold dear and for fear that the future will hold more than I can bear. I am Tucker Littlefield. Know all that I say now is true-spoken.

Praise forThe  Gift: The Chronicles Of Tucker Littlefield by Tegon Maus

“Magical, is the first word, which came to my mind when I finished this story. Right from the very first page, I found myself totally captivated by Tucker’s storytelling of this wonderful adventure.
Tucker Littlefield is an amazing character, when reading it I immediately thought of John Carpenter’s fisherman storyteller at the beginning of `The Fog’ film, where the children gather round as the scene is set… as, when reading it, I felt as if I too was actually there, sitting in the tavern, listening.
I cannot praise this book enough; it truly deserves to become a classic, the stuff of legends. As far as I am concerned, it has a fantastic storyline, the author has created some wonderful characters and I believe it would make a brilliant film!
I hope we shall be seeing more Chronicles of Tucker Littlefield in the future.”-Susan Keefe, Author or ‘Fantasy Farm Tales’

“I really enjoyed The Gift. The author is a fantastic world builder. I really felt transported into a new world with a unique magical system, not some kind of Tolkien knock-off. (so many stories these days are all about wizards and elves and dwarves). The main character, Tucker, was likeable and comical–a real person with human frailties and yearnings– and an unlikely hero everyone will root for. If you are looking for a fantasy novel that is not a Lord of the Rings rehash, then I think you’ll enjoy this one.”- Joseph N. Sidari, Amazon Reviewer

“This story is a very exciting and fast paced read. You will get wrapped up in the descriptions of the types of people who exist in the world. You will love the uniqueness to the magic. You will also discover that some things are left unknown. I enjoyed it very much..”- Phaedra Seabolt, Author of ‘Imperfection’

About Tegon Maus

Tegon Maus

 

Tegon Maus was raised pretty much the same as everyone else… devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends he could conjure. Not that he wasn’t friendly, he just wasn’t “people orientated”. Maybe he lived in his head way more than he should have, maybe not. He liked machines more than people, at least he did until I met his wife.

The first thing he can remember writing was for her. For the life of him he can’t remember what it was about… something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married him shortly after that. He spent a good number  of years chasing other dreams before he got back to writing.

It wasn’t a deliberate conscious thought, it was more of a stepping stone. His wife and himself had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. “Be as detailed as you can,” we were told.

He was thrilled. If there is one thing he enjoys it’s making people believe him and he likes to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an outright lie mind you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn’t be sure if it were true or not.  When he writes, he always write with the effort of “it could happen” very much in mind and nothing, he guarantees you, nothing, makes him happier.

He has consistently placed in the top 3 in 189 writing contest in a variety of genres and has been featured in magazines a couple of times to raise money for Saint Jude’s Children’s Hospital.

Tegon Maus Website / Author on Tirgearr Website

Twitter / Facebook / Pinterest / Google +

 

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Teddy Rose Book Reviews Plus May 2 Kick off & Giveaway

Infinite House of Books May 3 Excerpt

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Books, Books, and More Books May 5 Review

Carole Rae’s Random Ramblings May 6 Review

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Back Porchervations May 18 Review

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I have one eBook copy to giveaway to a lucky winner!

To enter, please leave your email address so I can contact you if you win and answer this question:

“Do you like to tell stories or let someone else do the telling?”

Giveaway ends June 30th.

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Witch of the Cards Banner TOUR 851 x 315

Witch of the Cards

by Catherine Stine

29416179

 

Genre: paranormal historical suspense

Publisher: Konjur Road Press

Date of Publication: March 16, 2016

ISBN 13: 978-0-9848282-6-5

ISBN-10: 0-9848282-6-5

ISBN 13: 978-0-9848282-7-2

ISBN 10: 0-9848282-7-3

Number of pages: 265

Word Count: 76K

Cover Artist: Mae I Designs

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Book Description:

 

Fiera was born a sea witch with no inkling of her power. And now it might be too late.

Witch of the Cards is historical, supernatural romantic suspense set in 1932 on the Jersey shore. Twenty-two year-old Fiera has recently left the Brooklyn orphanage where she was raised, and works in Manhattan as a nanny. She gets a lucky break when her boss pays for her short vacation in Asbury Park. One evening, Fiera and her new friend Dulcie wander down the boardwalk and into Peter Dune’s Tarot & Séance, where they attend a card reading.

Fiera has always had an unsettling ability to know things before they happen and sense people’s hidden agendas. She longs to either find out the origin of her powers or else banish them because as is, they make her feel crazy. When, during the reading, her energies somehow bond with Peter Dune’s and form an undeniable ethereal force, a chain of revelations and dangerous events begin to unspool. For one, Fiera finds out she is a witch from a powerful sea clan, but that someone is out to stop her blossoming power forever. And though she is falling in love with Peter, he also has a secret side. He’s no card reader, but a private detective working to expose mediums. Despite this terrible betrayal, Fiera must make the choice to save Peter from a tragic Morro Cruise boat fire, or let him perish with his fellow investigators. Told in alternating viewpoints, we hear Fiera and Peter each struggle against their deep attraction. Secrets, lies, even murder, lace this dark fantasy.

Witch of the Cards teaser 3

 

Enjoy the Excerpt

The absinthe put me in a dreamy state. Added to the mix was the sensual comfort of sitting next to Peter, who served as a buffer between Alyse and me.

Somewhere in the room, a chorus of faint voices floated around, high and sweet. Or was the sound merely in my head? How could it be? Peter asked me a question, but it took three repetitions for me to understand him over the low-slung jazz notes infused with the chorus of invisible soprano cherubs singing at me.

“Have you always had a talent for the unseen?” I heard him ask.

“Whatever do you mean? It was you who saw things that weren’t there.” I had to right myself because I found myself swooning so much I nearly fell into Peter’s lap.

“But it was you who eked it out of me.”

“Little old me?” I giggled.

“Yes, you,” Alyse agreed. “I was there, too. You have some strange talent. Can you describe how it works? You must be aware of it.”

Everything was turning light and frothy like a magical cake icing. The barkeep was chatting up the fellows at his counter, the card players exhaled in cheery gusts of laughter, and the waitresses flounced around like so many sunny meadow flowers. I didn’t see the harm. “I do sense things. Always have.”

“What kind of things?” Peter and Alyse asked in tandem. Their unexpected accord matched the soprano voices singing harmoniously in and around my head.

I giggled again. “Do you hear them?”

“Hear what?” Peter looked around, spooked.

“Children, little voices.”

Alyse’s brows creased. “What are they saying?”

“They’re singing.” But the entire mood of the room had changed in an instant. Their radiant energy soured. The children of the ether weren’t singing any more. They were starting to weep, over something very sad.

Over me.

How did I know this? No idea. A hard frost shot through my bones. I took a big gulp of the absinthe. Perhaps it would block out the voices, the wailing of innocents.

“What is it?” Peter took my hand. His concerned touch cut through the horrible, chilling ache and melted me. “What’s the matter, Fiera?” His face paled, and right then, I knew he heard them too. “They’re crying, aren’t they?” he whispered in my ear, tickling my soft lobe. “Crying over you.”

“Yes.” I leaned on him, letting the voices cry for me.

We hugged and I swear I felt his sudden, hot tears melt through the shoulder fabric of my dress. It was infinitely sad, infinitely tender.

The invisible cherubs whirring inside my head took translucent form and slipped out of me. They soared around the room like hardscrabble angels, flitting past Dulcie as she danced; sliding, their soft baby feet gliding over the long bar counter, and right through the man with the hookah. He glanced up for a moment as if he, too, felt the supernatural breeze. Then he bowed his head back down and took a pensive draw on his smoking device. Eyes closed, I saw green paisleys and floating leaves, the rushing of a cold stream bubbling under me, which filled me with terror. I came to with a gasp.

“What is it?” Alyse asked. How could I tell her of this suffering, shot through with spectacular floating objects, and my strange, sudden affinity with Mr. Dune?

“I see children weeping,” I admitted. “They’ve been hurt.”

“How?” Her voice grew anxious.

I silently asked them. “They’re babies. They can’t say.”

When I looked over at Peter, it was obvious he was in the same deep trance he’d been in when we first met. His eyes were glazed as if whatever he was experiencing was far from this basement speakeasy. “What is it? What do you see?” I whispered.

“They’re fading. They’re dying. They’re being—”

“Snap out of it, Mr. Dune.” Alyse gave him a stern shaking. “You’ve had too much absinthe.”

 “It’s not that!” I insisted.

“Then tell me what it is, Fiera,” she said.

“It’s a vision. Of something real from long ago.”

“How long ago?”

“As long ago as there is a long ago.” I sounded ridiculous. Alyse Bone was right. The absinthe was crazy making. Or was it the taffy? I leaned into Peter’s limp shoulder, reached over and shook him, too, but with more patience than Alyse had.

His eyes fluttered open, and he gazed at me with that same calm as when he awoke after the séance. As before, his expression was clear of emotion, blissfully unaware of what he’d whispered to me minutes ago.

“Well, there you are,” he slurred. “You look positively ravishing. Dance?”

“Thanks, don’t mind if I do.” I bumbled to my feet.

“You two really drank the coffin varnish.” Alyse gave an unbecoming snort as she rose and drifted away.

Perhaps I was too far-gone, but I didn’t care. Peter and I danced and danced. The speakeasy filled with the overflow from the convention hall dance—young lovers, bootleggers with wide ties and cigars, older women with twinkling earrings and heavy bosoms, even a prostitute or two. They wore too much rouge and sat brazenly up at the bar with the gin rummies.

This time, I couldn’t say whether I stepped on Mr. Dune’s polished wingtips. He probably couldn’t be sure if he knocked his bony legs into mine. We had more nips of absinthe, and I wolfed down another green-swirl taffy. Before I knew it, I was leaning provocatively against Peter and laughing like a wild banshee.

I remember gaping up at him to see his black hair all disheveled and him indistinctly mumbling. And thinking that he was the most gorgeous human being I’d ever seen. I remember Peter and I howling at the crescent moon over the ocean, and the shocked sideways glance of the hotel proprietor as we stumbled in.

I recall pulling out the Tarot, and laying them out on my rug. I recall babbling at him—about a witch and a swindler and a boat. I can still picture his expression of shocked surprise.

And I remember Peter’s lips branding my forehead—how could I ever forget that—while shocks of his lush black hair dangled deliciously on my burning cheeks. The last thing I recall before things went dark was kicking off my shoes.

 

About Author Catherine Stine:

Catherine Stine

 

Catherine Stine’s novels span the range from futuristic to supernatural to contemporary. Her YA sci-fi thrillers Fireseed One and Ruby’s Fire are Amazon bestsellers and indie award winners. Her YA, Dorianna won Best Horror Book in the Kindle Hub Awards. Heart in a Box, her contemporary YA was an Amazon Hot New Release in Teen and Alternative Family for over eight weeks. She also writes romance as Kitsy Clare. Her Art of Love series includes Model Position and Private Internship. Book three, Girl and the Gamer, launches this summer. She suspects her love of dark fantasy came from her father reading Edgar Allen Poe to her as a child, and her love of contemporary fiction comes from being a jubilant realist. To unwind she loves to watch “bad” reality TV and travel to offbeat places.

 

Website / Newsletter / Blog

Pinterest / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

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Tour giveaway

One $40 gift card, two hand-painted heart-boxes (by Catherine) with secret treasure inside, one signed paperback of Dorianna by Catherine Stine, one signed paperback of Witch of the Cards by Catherine Stine, one brand new collector Tarot deck along with an envelope full of special swag!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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For a list of my reviews go HERE

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