#Giveaway ~Borrowed Promises by Judith Ingram (Moonseed Trilogy #2) ~ Promo Post ~ #Paranormal Romance ~ Excerpt

Borrowed Promises

Moonseed Trilogy

Book 2

Judith Ingram

Genre: paranormal romance

Publisher: Vinspire Publishing, LLC

Date of Publication: May 31, 2014

ISBN: 978-0-9890632-4-1

ASIN: B00JD0H2ZE

Number of pages: 249 pages

Word Count: 73,300 (approx.)

Cover Artist: Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs

Book Description:

On the night of the new spring moon, a near-fatal accident propelled Victoria Reeves-Ashton over a century back in time to awaken in the body of Katherine Kamarov.

Now, after three months of pretending to be Katherine and laboring to repair relationships damaged by Katherine's brash and selfish personality, quiet and gentle Victoria finds that her heart is putting down roots in Katherine's world, in her family relationships, and especially in a deepening friendship with Katherine's winsome cousin Michael.

Hidden letters reveal the story of other moonseed-time travelers like herself-and Victoria realizes that she and Katherine will likely be returned to their own times the following spring. Tension mounts when a rich and handsome suitor applies to marry her, and Victoria must choose whether to accept him for Katherine's sake or to follow her own heart.

Ryan Ashton, the husband Victoria left behind, is baffled by the woman his wife has suddenly become. Unwilling to believe her story about an exchange in time, Ryan struggles to understand the stark transformation of his timid, remote wife into a sexually aggressive and captivating siren. Against his better judgment, he falls hard for this new woman who is a perplexing mixture of cruelty, sensuality, and tenderness, a woman who he suspects has the power to either break his heart or heal the aching loneliness he has lived with all his life.

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Excerpt:

I bit my lip, wanting to avoid any subject that could ruin the easy camaraderie of our afternoons together. Michael had been friendly and funny, teasing me gently, treating me with the easy affection of an older brother. Once or twice I'd caught him watching me with a fierce intentness that made my heart skip. But then he'd grin or offer a quip that made us both laugh, and the uncomfortable moment would pass.

I enjoyed the lightness of our friendship, grateful for the reprieve. In the rose garden at Summerwood and later on the trip to San Francisco, I had felt the slow but persistent budding of a new feeling that both thrilled and frightened me. The lightest touch of Michael's hand pricked up hairs along my skin like electricity; his boyish grin twisted a slow, sweet pain deep into my body. His clean, male scent in close proximity could stun me with unexpected waves of need, often forcing me to look away so he wouldn't see the flame in my eyes.

I couldn't allow Michael to guess where my heart was taking me—because of Raymond.

Although many things were unclear to me, one fact seemed certain—Katherine must marry Raymond Delacroix and have at least one child with him. If I gave in to my new feelings for Michael, and if I were cruel enough to let him see them, then I risked both hurting him and ruining Katherine's chances with Raymond when she came back to her own time.

And Katherine would come back. I was convinced of it, all my desperate wishes to the contrary. She would marry Raymond, give birth to Elise, and secure a future that would eventually lead to her daughter painting a picture of Katherine and me at the bridge over Two Trees Creek. By the same token, I would return to life as a lingerie model and a cold marriage with Ryan Ashton. Ryan.

"What?" Michael's voice made me jump and turn my head.

"What?"

"You said 'Ryan' again."

"I did?"

Michael had removed his glasses, and he blinked at me from only a foot away. God, he has beautiful eyes, I thought. Soft gray-green depths that held me breathless, fighting a slow, aching pull to be in his arms.

"He's…nobody," I said.

Michael was studying me, his eyes so solemn and searching that I couldn't look away. He didn't speak, but in that moment my heart yearned toward him, and he saw it. His expression changed. His gaze moved slowly from my eyes to my mouth.

I turned my face away and shut my eyes over a sudden sting of tears.

"Kat?" he said softly.

His voice held a new, cautious note of intimacy. A moment later his thumb brushed my wet cheek, and the tenderness of his touch wrenched a low cry from me. I pushed his hand away and struggled to sit upright.

"Don't touch me!" Pain made my voice sharp. "You can't touch me, Michael!"

But his hand was already under my elbow, helping me to sit. He pushed a handkerchief into my hand.

"Here. Take it." He sounded bewildered and hurt. "Seems you'd rather do the job yourself."

He watched me wipe my eyes and blow my nose with his handkerchief. I couldn't look at him, and after a moment he reached for his glasses and slipped them on.

In a tight voice he asked, "Do you still want to visit Union Square?"

I pressed the soggy handkerchief to my lips and nodded.

Michael pushed himself to his feet and thrust out a hand to help me up. We folded the blanket between us, careful not to touch each other's fingers, and he picked up the hamper. As we crossed the grass in uneasy silence, a fresh roll of tears made me reach into my handbag for a clean handkerchief. A flash of copper tumbled into the grass.

I stopped quickly, but Michael was quicker. He scooped up the coin, examined it briefly, and gave it back to me.

"You still carrying that thing around?"

I looked up at him, my handkerchief arrested halfway to my face. "My coin? What do you know about my coin?"

He squinted at me and frowned. "You're kidding, right? I was with you when you paid a nickel for that worthless thing at the county fair. You said it was good luck, and you carried it around in your pocket for years." He stopped at my look. "What is it?"

"Michael, are you certain this is the same coin?"

I handed it back to him. His gaze lingered on my face, puzzled, before he examined the coin. He weighed it briefly on his palm, flipped it over, and gave it back to me.

"Of course I'm certain." He pointed his finger at the familiar nick in the rim. "There's where the wagon wheel ran over it, and you were so furious because you thought the magic was ruined." He screwed up his eyes against the sun and studied me. "What's the matter with you, Kat? You're looking at me like I've got two heads."

I shook my head in dazed wonder, suspended once again in that universe where Katherine's world and mine overlapped and where it made perfect sense that her lucky coin should have somehow come to me—twice.

About the Author:

Judith Ingram weaves together her love of romance and her training as a counselor to create stories and characters for her novels. She also writes Christian nonfiction books and enjoys speaking to groups on a variety of inspirational topics. She lives with her husband in the San Francisco East Bay and makes frequent trips to California's beautiful Sonoma County, where most of her fiction characters reside. She confesses a love for chocolate, cheesecake, romantic suspense novels, and all things feline.

Website, blog & free weekly devotional: http://JudithIngram.com

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/@judithingram20

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/pub/judith-ingram/a/122/62

Tour giveaway

4 signed paperback copies of Borrowed Promises with bookmarks.

4 ebook copies (.pdf or .epub) of Borrowed Promises.

4 sets of Moonseed notecards; each set of six cards features scenes from the story, sketched by artist Amy Wong.

4 Amazon gift cards at $25 each.

4 coffee mugs featuring the book cover for Borrowed Promises along with tagline, "The past isn't always behind you…".

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The rest of the tour can be found here

Giveaway ~ After the Burn Series by Shyla Colt ~ Dystopian Romance

After The Burn Series PROMO

By Shyla Colt

Contemporary/Dystopian Romance

Date Published: March 29, 2014

  

In a world ravaged by the plague women have become a new form of currency. Bartered, traded, and abused they suffer under tyranny. One woman dared to be different.

Devon Brown spent the past eight years operating under the guise of being a male. The daughter of a Forest Ranger, she peddled her skills as she moves from town to town. This time her luck runs out when she’s discovered, and brought in to the leaders of the town, Cain and Cole Hart. Instead of being ejected, the attractive males, with the dangerous aura opt to keep her.

This is her story of what happened after the world burned.

EXCERPT

Devon Brown walked the perimeter of the dust laden gas station with broken windows and a sagging red awning. On the outskirts of town, the gray building went unnoticed by most in the town. Traffic this far away from the revived area they lived and worked in remained scarce, and she took making her way here every time. Three months into this new place, she fit in well. She didn’t want to upset the balance she’d found. Her eyes scanned the barren landscape. The chilly air carried the promise of winter. Frost formed in the mornings. It wouldn’t be long before they saw their first snow and this treks would become more difficult.

Her mind shifted to her new housemate, David. Due to his presence she hadn’t risked a full bath in a week. Hiding her secret got tricky with the young boy with hero worship dogging her every step. Privacy disappeared in this new society where the main goal was to live. Still, she enjoyed the jovial brunette. In his early twenties, he’d adjusted to life after the plague ten years prior a lot easier than those who’d had a lifetime of normalcy. His optimistic countenance presented a pleasant change from the doom and gloom, survival of the fittest jungle the world had become.

As on only child she’d lost her entire family when her folks fell victim to the mysterious strain of flu that crept into the population and never left. The supped up version of the Influenza took millions to their graves, and tossed the world into chaos. Raised on the good book, she’d thought it’d been the end of days.  If only I’d been so lucky.

Satisfied the integrity of the place held, she walked over to the bathroom door. The door creaked from disuse and she stepped inside, swiftly shutting the door behind her. A huge sigh of relief escaped her lungs, and she locked the door. For a short time, the burden of pretending to be something she wasn’t lifted off her drooping shoulders. The daughter of a Forest Ranger she knew how to survive. So, when women became the new currency she’d lopped off her shoulder length black locks, lowered her voice and peddled her skills as Devon Brown, the man.

She removed her book bag off her shoulders, placed it on the ground, and pulled out her necessary items, placing them on the counter she’d personally cleansed weeks ago. Prepped, she shrugged out of her flannel and stripped down to her underwear, bra and bindings. When her Double D’s became a feature that could endanger her freedom she’d said goodbye to femininity.  She unwrapped the ace bandage and sucked in a deep breath of freedom. The uncomfortable feeling of being held tight never fully dissipated.  Clad in skivvies, she turned on the faucet full force and picked up a bar of homemade soap and washcloth.

 She plunged her hand beneath the icy spray and built up a lather, flinching when she ran the soapy cloth over her torso. Her teeth chattered as she rinsed the material out and moved down her legs, saving her private area for last. Sure, a vagina didn’t shrink a penis, but the chill damn near burned. She pushed down the tighty whiteys she’d pilfered from the store, and ran the soft cloth across her center.  The door swung open in mid swipe with a loud bang. Blinding light flooded the dimly light room.

Her jaw dropped and her mind short circuited, refusing to process properly. Micah filled the door frame with his broad shoulders.  A villainous smirk spread across his thin lips. The lust visible in his dark blue eyes made her stomach lurch.

 “I knew there was something off about you.”

She yanked up her underwear.  He gave her a slow one over. Her skin crawled. The man rubbed her the wrong way. Rough, crude, and manipulative, Micah screamed untrustworthy.

“What are you going to do?”  She covered her breasts and shifted her weight, taking an aggressive stance. If she had to go down, it’d be fighting.

“Honey you know what I’m going to do.” An evil sneer twisted his Cupid ’s bow lips into something evil. “But I’ll be kinder than most, and keep you for myself instead of sharing you around. Pussy is power, and yours is untapped.”

She balled her fists. “I have rights, and I’m an asset. Not like the others.”

He laughed. “Won’t matter, Now put your clothes on. Don’t want to get jumped for my new pieces of ass before I can take it out for a spin. We’re going to see the Harts.”

Her panic spiked. Cole and Cain ran the tiny town with an iron fist. After they accepted her into their fold, and placed her in charge of overseeing water purification, she did everything possible to gain their trust, and stay well under their radar. The chiseled faced, hard bodied brothers were straight shooters. They didn’t stand for deceit, cheating, or withholding. Ex bar owners with numerous run-ins with the law, the two possessed a dangerous edge that made her tread lightly. Her knees wobbled, and she leaned against the sink to stay upright. The cool porcelain grounded her. Brought her back to reality.

“I’d leave you to change, but I know how wily you are, and let’s face it. I’m enjoying the view. It’s been a long time since I saw a woman as good looking as you. No bruises, dead eyes, or sloppiness.” He licked his lips. “We’re going to have fun. I never had a chocolate cupcake before. Do you have a creamy center?” His boots thudded against the faded white tiles as he stalked over and paused a few inches away.

“You look so soft.” He trailed a finger down her face, and she jerked turning her face from his caress.

“Don’t touch me.”  She barred her teeth.

“Time to get acclimated to it, sweetheart.”  He moved his hand to grip her breast, and she smacked it away.

“Nothing’s been decided, and I swear to you. If you try to claim me, it’ll be the last thing you do.”   I didn’t fight tooth and nail all this time to end up some sex toy to this sadistic fuck.

“It’s the new world order. Your opinions don’t matter for shit, sweetheart.”

“I live by my own set of rules.”  She balled her hands into fists, drawing strength from her anger.

“Maybe when you were thought to be a man.”

“Always.” She narrowed her eyes.

“We’ll see.”

She huffed, and pulled on her clothing, head held high. After starring death in the face, she’d be damned if she fell to pieces over this spineless piece of maggot shit.

Shyla Colt

Told once ‘You have to be an author, then you’re craziness becomes eccentrics’, Shyla Colt has always been in love with the written word and possessed a desire to write. Named after Super Girl in the comics, she often mistakes her mortality for super hero status. So, she holds many hats, Mother, Marine Wife, and writer are her top three. Writing allows her to explore new venues, face her demons, and touch others. A huge practitioner of paying it forward, and putting in what you want to get out, she hopes to inspire, enlighten, move, and entertain you with her work. Mixing humor, drama, and strong women, often with a paranormal element, she continues to soldier ahead in the writing field. One of her favorite things is talking to fans. If you’d like to learn more or just drop a line, please check her out at http://www.shylacolt.com. or email at

sassy3134@gmail.com.

Author Links

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GIVEAWAY

Ebook  From the Ashes by Shyla Colt 10 Amazon Gift

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#Giveaway ~ Priceless by Shannon Mayer ~ A Rylee Adamson Novel ~ Urban Fantasy

Priceless - PROMO Blitz

Shannon Mayer

Urban Fantasy Romance

Date Published: November 2012

"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.

I'm on the FBI's wanted list. I have a werewolf for a pet, a Witch of a best friend, and I have no need for anyone else in my life.

But when a salvage starts to spin out of control, help comes from a most unexpected direction. One that is dangerously dark, brooding, and doesn't know a thing about the supernatural.

One whose kisses set me on fire.

Shannon Mayer

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.

Author Links
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Blog

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Links to other books in Series

Immune (The Rylee Adamson Novels, Book 2)

Raising Innocence (The Rylee Adamson Novels, Book 3)  

Shadowed Threads ( The Raylee Adamson Novels, Book 4)

Blind Salvage (The Rylee Adamson Novels, Book 5)

Tracker (The Rylee Adamson Novels, Book 6)

Alex (A Rylee Adamsoin Short Story)

Giveaway

$25 Amazon Gift Card

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Firefly Hollow by T.I. Haddix ~ Blitz ~ Read Excerpt ~

Firefly Hollow - WEEK BLITZ

By T. L. Haddix

Romance w/ Light Paranormal Elements

Date Published: 9/23/2012

  

  

The mysterious recluse…

Owen Campbell holds himself apart from other people. Badly scarred from emotional wounds that have never healed, he doesn’t expect to find true love or happiness. He remains isolated in a prison of his own making, determined to not let anyone close enough to hurt him again. But his willpower is shaken to the core when Sarah Browning enters his world.

The girl next door…

Sarah Jane Browning is three years into her college degree when a call from home changes everything. Back at the family homestead in the heart of Appalachia, she’s forced to reevaluate her hopes and dreams for the future.

Distraction from her heartache comes in the form of her parents’ neighbor. Whispers about “odd Owen Campbell” abound in their small community, and Sarah’s curiosity is aroused. When she breaks the rules and trespasses onto his land, what she finds is beyond her wildest imaginings.

As Sarah struggles to overcome tragedy and loss, her burgeoning relationship with Owen is sorely tested. Will love conquer all, or will the secrets from Owen’s past tear them apart forever?

Checking back over her shoulder after a few steps, Sarah frowned when the deer continued to mimic her path. Dismissing the incident as the curiosity of a wild young deer that hadn’t yet learned humans were the enemy, she let her mind drift. Before long, she heard the sound of water trickling rapidly over rocks, and as she rounded a curve, she saw a small stream curving through the mountainside. The branch of water cut into a shallow hollow, one side protected by a higher ledge of earth that was full of mountain laurel.

Sarah stopped to take in the sight and drew in a cleansing breath. As she looked around, she realized the deer had followed her and stopped a short distance away. The bench of land it stood on converged with the deer path alongside the stream.

If Sarah hadn’t known better, she would have sworn the deer wore a look of consternation. The animal bent its head to nibble at some greenery on the ground, but kept its eyes on her. It almost seemed to glance between her and the water, as though weighing the danger of coming closer for a drink.

“Maybe if I turn away, you’ll feel bolder.” The deer path crossed the branch at a narrow point, and she decided to go a bit further. The water cascaded down a small waterfall above the narrow point, pooling in a shallow area that would be the perfect spot for a thirsty deer to get a cooling drink. Hopping across the water, Sarah followed the trail. To her surprise, the path didn’t continue to the flat bench on the other side of the small ridge, but climbed up and around the rocky outcropping. Curious, she climbed the incline. The sight took her breath away, and for a moment, she didn’t believe what was in front of her was real.

The rocky outcropping the water cascaded down was a sort of natural dam. On its other side, a large pool of water had collected. Fifteen feet across and nearly that wide again going in the opposite direction, the pool was surrounded by sloping granite on all sides except the front, where the water dropped over the edge. The water was blue-green, going from light aqua to deeper cobalt, and the banks of rock and earth protected it on all sides.

On the opposite side, a craggy granite cliff rose about ten feet out of the water, overhanging slightly to form a shallow cave. The mountain seemed to curve around the pool and, mesmerized, Sarah continued around, crossing the branch once more at a point above the pool. From there, she was able to climb on top of the granite boulder that created the cliff. Easing to the edge, she carefully sat down, her legs dangling over the side.

When the curious deer appeared at the edge of the pool below, Sarah laughed. The deer gave a small jerk at the sound, eyeing her warily.

“I’m sorry.” She felt utterly insane, carrying on a conversation with a deer, but it had followed her like a curious puppy. Sarah realized that keeping quiet would feel even more absurd. “It’s so beautiful here. I had no idea any place like this existed.” She looked around, noticing that the trees didn’t arch out over the pool the way she thought they would have.

“I’ll bet it’s really hot here in the summer, and that water feels so good and cool. Or does the pool dry up, I wonder?”

For a while, she just sat, braced back on her hands, her face lifted to the sky. The peace imbued in the place washed over her. When she felt ready, she let herself remember Kathy’s words to Paul, and their laughter. The memory made Sarah sad and still made her cringe with embarrassment, but she realized that she didn’t feel quite as angry about it as she had.

“Thank you, God, for letting me hear that today. At least I don’t have to face Paul until Monday,” she said to the sky. “And… and maybe, if that’s what he likes, then maybe he’s not as special as I thought he was. Let him have his buxom girls. At least I don’t look like a milk cow, unlike someone I could name.”

A snort came from below, and Sarah jumped. She’d forgotten the deer. Looking down, she saw that it had moved to the edge of the exposed granite and settled down on a soft patch of leaves.

“What are you snorting at?”

When the deer shook its head, Sarah laughed. Even though she knew it was probably batting away flies with its ears, the deer acted almost human.

She glanced down at her watch and was shocked when she saw the time. She was going to have to run in order to make it home in time for supper. With a muted curse that she’d heard her father say when he hit his thumb with the hammer, she scrambled to her feet and looked around. Another bench ran down from the side of the boulder opposite where she’d come up and fell naturally into the one the deer had been on when she’d first seen it.

“That saves me a little time.” With one last look at the deer, which had gotten to its feet when Sarah did, she headed down the bench. “I’ll come back someday,” she promised over her shoulder. “Try to not get shot or anything.”

For a day that had gone so badly, she thought as she ran, things had turned out to be okay.

* * *

For a long time after the girl had gone, Owen stood on the edge of the pool, looking after her. With his enhanced hearing, he could follow her progress down the trail and back onto Browning land.

He didn’t know what to think. He’d never encountered another human in all the time he’d been exploring the woods. His parents had seen to that over the years; no one dared come onto Campbell property without his father’s permission. Now that the property belonged to Owen, he guessed he was the one who’d have to do something about trespassers.

He bent his neck, taking another sip from the water. As the girl had guessed, it was cool and delightful.

Owen sighed, a sound that came out in deer form much as it did when he was human. The pool was one of his favorite places to roam, one of his safe places. If the girl came back as she promised, he didn’t know what it would mean for him. He couldn’t risk being caught, and he wasn’t willing to give up his solitude. If the girl threatened that… he hated the thought of having to go to her parents, but if it came to that, he’d do it.

T.L. Haddix

T.L. Haddix was born in Hazard, Kentucky, a small town in the center of the Appalachian coal fields. Taught to read by her grandmother, T.L. has had a life-long love affair with books, devouring whatever she could get her hands on. From childhood favorites such as the Trixie Belden series and Laura Ingalls Wilder’s “Little House” books, to her current favorites from authors like Tami Hoag, Alex Kava, J.A. Jance and Lisa Kleypas (among many others), T.L. still finds refuge in the written word.

“Growing up, I wanted to be everything – astronaut, police officer, doctor, teacher, reporter, psychologist – there was no clear choice for me. I wanted to do it all. Becoming a writer has allowed me to do just that, because I can live vicariously through my characters.”

A resident of eastern Kentucky, T.L. is hard at work on her next book, when she isn’t chasing after her three cat-children with her husband.

Author Links

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#Giveaway ~ Forager by Peter R. Stone ~ Promo Blitz ~ #Dystopian Book ~ Read an Excerpt

Forager - PROMO Blitz

By Peter R. Stone

Dystopian

Date Published: November 2013

Eighteen-year-old Ethan Jones lives in Newhome, a town built upon the decaying ruins of post-apocalyptic Melbourne, ruins haunted by the ferocious Skel, a nomadic tribe of degenerate savages.

The Skel are ramping up their attacks on Newhome's foraging teams and infesting Melbourne's ruins in ever greater numbers. Is this part of a larger plan that could spell the town's doom?

Meanwhile, the last thing Ethan expects when he and his companions rescue a two-car convoy from the Skel is a Japanese teenage girl with an outlandish dress-sense, who after they take her back to Newhome, goes to great lengths to ingratiate herself into his life. But is it in gratitude for saving her life or is she seeking something more?

And what a quandry she places him in, for he knows the rules, that no man is permitted to be alone with an unmarried woman. But how can he drive such a gentle soul away when she touchs his heart so deeply, even though she clearly carries the pain of a broken heart.

At the same time, Newhome's police force, the Custodians, are suspicious of Ethan's foraging team's successes and are pulling out the stops to find out which member of his team has the illegal mutant ability that gives them an edge over the other teams. Should these peacekeepers discover Ethan is the mutant they seek, they will haul him away and dissect him like a frog.

EXCERPT

Michal, our driver and my best friend, clambered into the truck first, having to duck his head down just to get through the door since he easily topped six-foot-four; and at seventeen I suspected he hadn't even finished growing. I clambered in beside him while Leigh, David and Shorty climbed into the back seat.

Michal looked down at me, clearly displeased about something. "You gotta be more careful, Ethan."

"Me?" I asked, not having the slightest inkling of what he was referring to.

"Yes, Ethan, you," he confirmed as he turned the key in the ignition and pumped the accelerator gently to get the engine started. The truck was pretty old and I doubted it had a single part that hadn't been replaced or refurbished at some stage. 

"I'd wager my bottom dollar they're here 'cause they want to find out why our team brings in more metals than the others."

Our team was one of many that foraged in the ruins outside for non-corrosive metals, such as gold, platinum, copper, bronze and lead, that had survived the decades since the Apocalypse. We would take them back to the Recycling-Works where they would be sorted, melted down, and handed over to the factories.

"What do you mean?" I replied, feigning ignorance.

"Them other three goons," he whispered as he jerked his head back to indicate our workmates in the back seat, "they ain't too bright. They think you just know the best spots to look, but not me. I've seen you."

That sent icy tendrils of dread creeping back into my gut. "Seen me what?"

"You can drop your act with me, okay?" he said softly as he shifted the truck into gear and drove it out of the Recycling-Works yard and towards the town gates. 

"I've heard about people like you, and you're secret's safe with me. Just don't keep hitting pay dirt every day from now on, 'cause those Custodians, they're not here to protect us from the Skel like they claim, otherwise they'd have brought a Bushmaster instead of that G-Wagon."

Peter R. Stone

Peter Stone, an avid student of history, was reading books on Ancient Greece from the age of four. Periods of interest include the ancient world, medieval era, Napoleonic times, and the Second World War. He still mourns the untimely passing of King Leonidas of Sparta and Field Marshal Michel Ney of France.

A product of the Cold War Generation, Peter Stone studied the ramifications of a nuclear missile strike when he was in his senior year of high school, learning the effects of nuclear fallout and how to (hopefully) survive it. He has ever been drawn to post-apocalyptic and dystopian novels and films, and eagerly devoured The Day of the Triffids and John Christopher's Tripod Trilogy when he was a child. He is also an avid fan of science fiction, and his favorite books include the Lensmen Series by E.E.Doc.Smith, anything by Alastair Reynolds, and the Evergence trilogy by Sean Williams.

Peter Stone graduated from Melbourne School of Ministries Bible College in 1988. He has been teaching Sunday School and playing the keyboard in church for over twenty-five years. His wife is from Japan and they have two wonderful children. He has worked in the same games company for over twenty years, but still does not comprehend why they expect him to work all day instead of playing games.

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Soft Cover Copy of Forager

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Drowning Mermaids by Nadia Scrieva ~ Promo ~ Excerpt ~ #Paranormal #Fantasy

Drowning Mermaids ~ Blitz

By Nadia Scrieva

Paranormal Romance - Epic Fantasy

Date Published: January 2012

She is an elegant princess displaced from her home. He is a rough sea captain with a heart of gold...

To escape the war in her underwater kingdom, the noble daughter of a murdered king must flee to Alaska. Doing all she can to keep her younger sisters safe, Aazuria tries to assimilate and work among the Americans, with her feisty red-haired bodyguard at her side. This refuge holds pleasant surprises, for the princess meets a somber gentleman in a dark corner who promises to show her his world.

Trevain Murphy is a successful crab fisherman who has spent his life building an empire above the sea, but knows nothing of the greater empire beneath the surface. When a graceful dancer captures his attention, he becomes fascinated with her old-fashioned speech and unique mannerisms. Learning that her father has recently died, he cannot resist extending his kindness in offering to guide and protect her.

As it becomes clear that the dark-haired woman is much more than she seems, Trevain is unprepared to uncover the staggering secrets behind her innocent facade. Neither the captain nor the princess can imagine that their lives will become forcibly entwined as a common enemy threatens both of their worlds...

EXCERPT

“Why are we here, Brynne?” Trevain asked, leaning against the wall angrily.

“I wanted a snack,” she said, rummaging through the cupboards.

“I didn’t.”

“Well, you need to eat dinner,” she said, with her mouth full. “We’ve been fishing all day.”

“I’m not hungry. Look, Brynne, is there a reason you haven’t left my side this whole trip? Do you think that I’m emotionally vulnerable because Aazuria left me and I’m going to fall into your arms or something?”

“Here, just relax and let me cook something good for you.”

“I appreciate your concern for my health, but I already told you that I’m not hungry…”

“Hey! That’s funny. Why is there sound coming from this bag of rice?” Brynne placed her ear against the bag. “Weird. It sounds like a clock.”

Trevain frowned and moved over to the bag of rice to listen.

Brynne shrugged and continued gathering cooking utensils. “Reminds me of that story about the captain and the crocodile—he could always tell the crocodile was near because it had swallowed a clock, and he could hear the ticking…”

“Shut up, Brynne.” Trevain pulled a knife out of the drawer she had opened and slit the bag open, causing rice to spill out all over the floor.

“Hey, Trevain! You’re making a mess!” Brynne scolded. “Just because you don’t have to clean anything up around here since you’re the high and mighty capt…”

“Where the hell did you get this?” Trevain yelled, staring at the strange homemade bomb which was nestled in the rice.

Brynne had not turned around, and was continuing to gather ingredients. “Oh, some sweet blond lady on the docks gave it to me…”

“Dammit!” he cursed. “There’s no time.”

“No time?” Brynne asked in confusion. Trevain grabbed her hand and was pulling her into the next room. “What are you doing, Murphy?”

“Get in the bathtub, Brynne!”

“What? Why? I’m not into kinky…”

“Down, now!” Trevain grabbed Brynne and dived with her into the bathtub, covering her body with his and waiting for the sound.

The next second, all that they heard was—nothing. The sound of the explosion was so deafening that there was a moment of intense pain in their ears before they lost the ability to hear. They felt, however. They felt the intense pressure of the bomb exploding. They felt the unbearable heat of the explosion burning their skin and singeing their hair. They felt the bathtub being ripped from the ship, and pieces of debris colliding with their bodies. Trevain felt large objects colliding with his head and back painfully, and he felt his skin being punctured in several places. Finally, he was aware that they were surrounded by water.

It was several seconds before the heat subsided to the cooling water, and a moment later he was finally able to open his eyes. He could barely make out the scared expression on Brynne’s face in the darkness. There was debris everywhere; pieces of the broken ship. His broken ship. Trevain was completely disoriented. It was difficult to figure out where they needed to swim. He could tell that sections of the boat floating near the surface were burning. He looked around for the other members of his crew, trying to get his bearings.

The flames were growing stronger. The ship’s diesel was leaking from the ruptured gas tank. They could not swim to the surface, or they would be burned. Brynne’s face was lit by the flickering firelight as she panicked and tried to communicate with him, but they could not understand each other. As he frantically made hand signals indicating for Brynne to calm down and stay close to him, he was met with only mystification on her face. He appreciated the need for sign language more than ever at that moment. Brynne was freaking out, and she began swimming off in one direction. He was sure that it was not where they needed to go. He tried to reach for her, but he was feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain. He looked around, trying to figure out where to go and what to do. He could not help panicking as well.

Trevain tried to swim away from the flames, but he could not get very far. The burning diesel had leaked out over the surface of water for what must already be a square mile, and he could not swim that far without taking a breath. Without several breaths. He needed air badly, and finally realized that he was going to drown. He could not breathe underwater; he did not have the ability. He simply did not know how. What Aazuria and his mother were talking about—he wished it was all true, but it was not. Not for him.

He knew that he was about to die. His lungs painfully begged him to take a breath, but he knew that the moment he did, he would drown. Although he had almost wanted something exactly like this to happen to him when he had set sail earlier, he now realized that he had been fooling himself. As demented as he had been feeling, as self-destructive as his intentions, it had all been just a farce. He did not really want to die.

He tried as hard as he could to hold onto his last few moments of life.

A glimmer of white caught his eye, and he saw that an exquisite creature was suddenly before him. Long white hair fanned out around her face, and the purest eyes of blue sapphire stared at him. The lovely phantasm was smiling as she reached out to take his hands; he knew it must be an angel. 

It was his angel. He knew her, although she looked nothing like before. She was his Aazuria, his mythical heroine. In the dancing glow of the oil blaze, she was simply too dazzling to be real and he knew that he must be on death’s very threshold. He had heard that people often hallucinated in moments such as these, seeing what they most yearned to see. As she hovered in suspension before him, her skin and hair were almost luminous in the dark water; almost phosphorescent. Perhaps she never had been real. It did not matter—she was firmly grasping his hands, and it sent a feeling of comfort and tranquility through him. He knew that she loved him.

He could see forgiveness and acceptance in her expression. None of the turmoil between them mattered any longer in this pacific moment. In her benevolent gaze, he could finally forgive himself. He smiled at her. Although his vision was fading and the world was disappearing, he could only smile. He tightly gripped her hands to thank her for coming back for him. He could not bear the thought of letting go; he did not want to be robbed of her touch. He tried to keep his eyes open for as long as possible—he tried to keep gazing into the salvation of those unfamiliar ultramarine orbs. So this was what she really looked like, in her element. He wished he could have known her true form. It was mystical.

Trevain could imagine no better way to die. No better sight to see in the final moments during which he was capable of vision. He was wholly happy and blissfully complete. A peaceful expression descended on his face, and the captain’s tired eyes closed for what he knew to be the last time.

Nadia Scrieva

Nadia Scrieva lives in Toronto, Canada with no husband, no kids, and no pets. She does own a very attractive houseplant which she occasionally remembers to water between her all-consuming writing marathons.

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