I finished unpacking from my trip. Laundry’s done–that’s the worst, right? All the work you have to do after a trip. I shouldn’t complain. I had a vacation. 🙂

I promised prizes from last week’s Texas Surrender countdown, and I have winners to announce! All the winners may choose one download from among my Triple Horn Brand stories. And here are the names:

Michelle Willms (Nov. 30)
Enikö (Dec. 1)
Sarah DeShields-Bass (Dec. 2)
Jamie L (Dec. 3)

So back to Crescent Moon…The book releases in print on Tuesday. Yesterday, you briefly met Khepri, The God’s Wife. The opening chapters describe her frightening journey that lands her wrapped as a mummy in Ancient Egypt. In today’s excerpt, you will see the scene where Juste and Khepri first meet. I promise, I’ll get to the sexy tomorrow.

In the meantime, you get a taste of Juste’s bad attitude, but hints of his true, heroic nature shining through. Juste has suffered a demotion, lost a close personal friend, and he’s just going through the motions with a new partner he doesn’t trust or like. And he’s no longer working homicide and resents the hell out of the museum robbery investigation. He’s hunting missing mummies? He really could give a rat’s ass less, until something happens that piques his interest. Enjoy! 

Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a pair of pretty ankh earrings I’ll gift to one person after Tuesday’s release. If you post a comment on every day, including Tuesday, you’ll have several chances to win them!

From ancient Egypt to present-day New Orleans, a woman of exceptional strength is called to protect against an unspeakable evil…and to experience an unforgettable seduction.

Khepri still isn’t used to being The God’s Wife. The daughter of a common farmer, she’s more comfortable being friends with servants than employing a whole team of them. Being the wife of Amun affords her luxuries she only dreamed of, but her dreams are not always a haven…they are also filled with demons. Lately she’s had doubts about the role she’s been thrust into. She’s had yearnings for another sort of life, one where she’s loved intimately, rather than only adored from afar.

When a powerful man lures her away from her temple, she’s thrilled at the chance for an adventure. Her adventure quickly becomes a nightmare when the handsome vizier mummifies her alive. Pure of heart and body, she’s the warrior he foresees will battle a demonic pharaoh if ever he awakens. Khepri’s sure he’s insane, until she awakens in a distant future. Alone and needing a guide in this strange and garish new world, she turns to the troubled man who set her free…

When New Orleans police detective Justin Henry Boucher is called to the Garden Museum to investigate stolen Egyptian artifacts, it’s not exactly the adrenaline rush he used to get working a homicide. But with a reprimand on his record and a sorrow he can’t shake, he will take what he can get – as long as he can keep his badge. What he doesn’t count on is having to keep his cool when he finds one of the priceless artifacts—a golden-skinned goddess wrapped in fabric like a mummy, left to die and needing his help. She’s a mystery he’s determined to unravel. She might also be the cure for his lonely heart.

When Juste returned to the museum, the sky was darkening with clouds. It looked like rain would soon fall, and from the forecast, the storm might produce some flooding. He hoped like hell they could wrap up soon so he wouldn’t spend the night there.

Inside the door, he donned latex gloves. The crime techs were still in the warehouse. One was on a ladder dusting the camera in the corner for prints. Good idea. He looked around for his partner.

Mikey stood beside a crate with a clipboard while museum workers carefully swept away straw before pulling out bubble-wrapped artifacts. His partner gave him a nod. “With the storm comin’ in, I told the two guards we’d see ’em here in the mornin’.”

Juste grunted, irritated he’d made that call. The sooner they wrapped this one up, the better.

Mikey lifted his shoulders. “It’s mummies, not shooters,” he muttered under his breath.

Not liking the reminder he wasn’t in homicide anymore and that robbery investigations didn’t proceed with the same urgency, Juste smothered a curse. “I’m gonna take a look around the back.”

Mikey gave him another nod and then returned his attention to the items. By the look of all the empty crates, they were nearing the end of the inventory anyway.

Juste felt a moment’s guilt for leaving Mikey with the bulk of the tedious work, but only a moment’s. He scanned the room, found Dorman and Haddara sitting beside the white table, talking quietly.

Because he wasn’t ready to make nice with either man, Juste strode deeper into the storage area, away from the activity, through crates and metal racks where less important items, or perhaps ones that were rotated in and out of the museum’s displays, were stored. The lighting was poor and so far from the faded daylight spilling through the cargo bay door that he withdrew a small flashlight from his jacket pocket and flicked it on.

Toward the very back, he found rolled-up rugs and emptied boxes. And a crate nearly buried in refuse. A crate that didn’t look to be nearly as dusty as everything else around it. By the painted arrows on the plywood, the box sat on its side, the lid facing him.

Juste glanced around, but no one was watching. He gently knocked on the box and listened to the sound. By the dull, muffled rap, he knew the crate wasn’t empty. Curious, his belly knotting in the way it always did when he had a hunch, he gripped the nailed face of the crate and tugged.

There weren’t enough nails to keep the crate closed. The lid gave slightly beneath the second tug. And then he heard a sound. A soft mewling cry. His heart stopped, and then thudded dully against his chest.

He leaned close pressing his ear against the lid and listened again.

The noise came from inside the box. Read the rest of this entry »

For those of you who love your full-length novels in a version you can hold in your hands and fan those pages, Crescent Moon releases in its print version on December 10th—this Tuesday!

And for those of you who gave it a skip because it was originally a serialized (delivered by installment) book, now you can read it as it was intended to be read—as one big, fast-paced book, full of energy, mysticism, and smoldering sensuality. Yes, it’s a strange book. Who writes about mummies and ancient Egypt? Who writes about the Land of the Dead? I do. I have a fascination with the underworld, something I visited in the last Dark Realm story, Darkness Captured. Yes, that one was based more on Sumerian lore, but Sumerian and Egyptian, as well as Christian lore, is inextricably linked. I studied Coffin Texts to learn about Egypt’s mythology and braided it in with a lot of what ifs.

What if a woman from the past is mummified, and then resurrected in present time? Is she human? Is she a goddess? And then I discovered the story about the oracle at Karnak, The God’s Wife, and my story wrote itself. And where better for her to awaken than in New Orleans where a local detective who is going through his own crisis of faith finds her…

Here’s a snippet. Hope you enjoy. I’d love to hear your thoughts when you’ve read the story. This book was one of those “stories of the heart” writers love to share. 

Post a comment and you’ll be entered to win a pair of pretty ankh earrings I’ll gift to one person on Tuesday. If you post a comment on every day, including Tuesday’s release, you’ll have several chances to win them!

CRESCENT MOON

From ancient Egypt to present-day New Orleans, a woman of exceptional strength is called to protect against an unspeakable evil…and to experience an unforgettable seduction.

Khepri still isn’t used to being The God’s Wife. The daughter of a common farmer, she’s more comfortable being friends with servants than employing a whole team of them. Being the wife of Amun affords her luxuries she only dreamed of, but her dreams are not always a haven…they are also filled with demons. Lately she’s had doubts about the role she’s been thrust into. She’s had yearnings for another sort of life, one where she’s loved intimately, rather than only adored from afar.

When a powerful man lures her away from her temple, she’s thrilled at the chance for an adventure. Her adventure quickly becomes a nightmare when the handsome vizier mummifies her alive. Pure of heart and body, she’s the warrior he foresees will battle a demonic pharaoh if ever he awakens. Khepri’s sure he’s insane, until she awakens in a distant future. Alone and needing a guide in this strange and garish new world, she turns to the troubled man who set her free…

When New Orleans police detective Justin Henry Boucher is called to the Garden Museum to investigate stolen Egyptian artifacts, it’s not exactly the adrenaline rush he used to get working a homicide. But with a reprimand on his record and a sorrow he can’t shake, he will take what he can get – as long as he can keep his badge. What he doesn’t count on is having to keep his cool when he finds one of the priceless artifacts—a golden-skinned goddess wrapped in fabric like a mummy, left to die and needing his help. She’s a mystery he’s determined to unravel. She might also be the cure for his lonely heart.

One last time, her mind drifted, peacefully content…no shadows or disquiet to disturb her…allowing her to separate the parts of herself, first body from spirit…and then the mournful, dying part of her soul to dwell forever in the pit, while what remained, the part that would be born again, floated upward on golden wings.

Her sprit ba left her mortal shell and spread its wings, flying through the small bright hole in the ceiling, leaving behind her swaddled human form, which lay on a bare wooden bench. One, two, three strong surges of her fluttering wings and she flew toward the sun, free at last and feeling grateful to her husband for his generous gift. Her wings caught an updraft and she held them still, floating on the wind, the glorious waning sun warming her back.

Her spirit flew above white limestone cliffs and past a deep quarry littered with enormous blocks of carved stone. A sudden gust riffled through her feathers, forcing her to fly west, high above a barren valley.

But at last, her ba tired, circling downward, searching for the great river to lead her home. But no familiar white-washed city dwellings, no temple walls lay below. No fields of cotton and wheat.

Confused, she made her way back to the dismal pit. Not wanting to enter, she flitted around the opening, feeling weary and afraid.

Something dark awaited her. Some horror in the shadows.

And then she spotted the man with the dark, watchful gaze standing beneath the opening, his arms outspread to catch her… Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winner of Edie’s contest is…Gail Siuba! Gail, Edie will be in contact shortly!

* * * * *

Post a comment today for a chance to win the first book in 
Edie Ramer’s Rescued Hearts series, Hearts in Motion! 

For me, the real meaning of Christmas isn’t presents and decorations and cookies – no matter how lovely and delicious all of that is. It’s about having a home and a place to stay – even if it’s just one night in a barn. And to have people around you who care and who you care for.

All of that is in Christmas at Angel Lake, and it’s odd that I just realized it as I wrote this for Delilah’s blog. So thanks to Delilah for her generosity to me and many other writers for giving our books this temporary home!

Tell me, what does Christmas means to you?

**25 cents from every CHRISTMAS AT ANGEL LAKE book sold will go to the Washington County Humane Society in Wisconsin.**

A kitten saved her…

Broke, pregnant and deserted by her boyfriend, Maddie Barrymore swerves to avoid a kitten while driving in a Wisconsin blizzard—and her life takes another turn. Like Puss in Boots, she stays in an empty house. She has the baby, the kitten, gets a job and a degree…yet every day she’s ready to flee if the real owner shows up.

Five years later, he does…

Dumped by the woman he loves, film producer Logan MacLeesh’s heart is as dark as one of his movies. He plans to hole up in his grandmother’s old mansion and throw himself into his work…until he discovers the sexy squatter and her four-year-old son. Before he can call the sheriff, Maddie’s tale of how she ended up there entertains him. They make a deal that as long as she tells him a story every night, she and her son can stay. Even the cat, though Logan’s always been a dog person.

A dog in need of saving…

Far away in another state, a homeless dog lifts his head, sniffs…and smells him. The human who’s meant for him. As he heads through the snow toward the scent, his journey seems impossible, even though it’s Christmas, a time when miracles happen.

Amazon | Apple/iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Smashwords 

Excerpt:

The other shoe fell.

That was the thought in Maddie’s mind when he came downstairs as she was trying to find a show on TV in which men were not saying stupid things to each other in the mistaken belief that it was funny; in which woman were not being assaulted, chased, or horribly killed; in which housewives in full makeup and five-inch heels were not bullying each other.

She’d finally found her comfort station as he stepped into the living room, where he obviously was taking up too much air, because she felt a whoosh of oxygen leave her body. And she did not like it.

“HGTV?” he asked. “You planning on renovating a house?”

“Not this one, so don’t worry.” She spared him a glance then nodded at the TV. “That’s my perfect man.”

“A contractor?”

“A hunky contractor. He fixes things and has better taste than I do.”

“He’s probably gay.”

If it were anyone else saying that, she would wonder if he was jealous. Though why not him?

The thought cheered her, even as she wished it wouldn’t. If not for Zach, she would pack up and leave this place. She was only staying here because she didn’t want to uproot him. “Are you ready for your story for the night?”

“When your heartthrob is on TV?”

She leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair then rested her chin in her palm. She was so tired she might fall asleep in the middle of tonight’s story. “I’ll settle for seeing him in my dreams.”

“We don’t have the same dreams.”

“I can imagine what yours are like.”

He raised his right eyebrow and lowered his voice. “If you could, you would be running scared.”

“Did anyone tell you you’re a drama queen?”

He stilled. For a second, she wondered if she’d gone too far.

But what the hell. If she’d gone this far, why not go further?

“Why are you trying to scare me away?”

“Because you’re a mother who cares for her son. And because that son is tucked in his bed, sleeping.” He leaned in closer. “And because you want me as much as I want you.”

She sat back. But not too far back. She didn’t want him to think he frightened her. Didn’t want him to think he was right. “I couldn’t do anything with you, either. You’d always know you’d be second choice.”

His eyes narrowed, and she could’ve sworn she felt a freezing blast of wind whistle through the room. “And who’s first?”

“You forgot about the hunky contractor already?”

He blinked, as if he’d gone to a dark place and, in that instant, he stepped out of it. “If you’d like”—he lowered his voice so it curled around her—“I could show you my saw and hammer.”

“That would impress me so much. Will you let me hold them as you undress?”

His lips didn’t curve, but laugh lines crinkled around his eyes. “What do you plan on doing with the hammer and the saw?”

“You don’t want to ruin the surprise, do you?”

He straightened. “You are something else. I’m getting a drink.”

“A cold one, I hope. With lots of ice. Next time, don’t try to seduce me.”

Edie
http://edieramer.com
https://www.facebook.com/edieramer.author
https://twitter.com/edieramer

Today, I’m sailing. No stops at exotic locales. I’m likely on the upper deck in a lounge chair, working on a tan. Don’t hate me!

It’s the last day of our cruise. Early tomorrow morning, we’ll be debarking in Miami and flying home. Sometime tomorrow night I’ll be downloading a boatload of email to see what’s been happening while I was gone.

I hope you had a great week, and that you had fun reading the excerpts I left for you to read. If you haven’t entered the contests and posted comments, there’s still time. I won’t be selecting winners until I return.

In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a question…

If you took a cruise, what do you think would be the most
enjoyable aspect of the journey?

For one more chance to win a free book, join me at Wild & Wicked Cowboys today!

TO SEND OR NOT TO SEND

Thanksgiving has past and now the holiday season is upon us (we won’t discuss how the retailers think the holiday season starts after Halloween. That’s a different post for a different time). For the Cullen family that means putting up the tree, dragging out the decorations, and Christmas cards.

It saddens me that over the years the act of sending out Christmas cards has dwindled. I love reaching into my mailbox and finding a stack of cards, of reading the Christmas letters and looking at the pictures of everyone’s kids.

I guess in this age of social media and being so connected through Facebook and Twitter that people just don’t feel the need.

I’m not bashing Facebook or Twitter or any other social media site by any means. I’m addicted to all of them. But there are still some “old ways” that I cling to and one of those is sending out my annual Christmas cards.

Another one is my address book.

Yes, I still have an address book. The physical kind that has the three rings and the little laminated letters on the side so you can flip to the correct part of the alphabet.

Every year I dig that address book out (it seems I only need it at Christmas time) and I look through it. I’ve had the same book for about twenty years and that means there are lots of addresses crossed out and new addresses written beneath it. My grandmothers, both now deceased, are still in there as well as friends I haven’t seen in a long time.

It’s sort of a walk down memory lane for me to open that book. It makes me smile, reliving memories of the people written on those pages.

I hope that sending Christmas cards never truly goes away because I think it’s a wonderful way to reconnect to people that you normally don’t “see” on the internet or real life.

What about you? Do you still send out Christmas cards?

In Sharon Cullen’s sizzling novel of scandal and seduction, a headstrong beauty is pursued across Europe by London’s most notorious rake.

Having vowed never to wed again, widowed viscountess Claire Hartford is about to do the unthinkable: travel unaccompanied across the continent in search of a lover. Her adventure begins sooner than expected, when she meets a magnificent cloaked stranger on her ship’s gangplank. He is Lord Blythe, a man whispered about in London’s ballrooms and drawing rooms, a scandalous rogue hell-bent on seduction.

Nathan Ferguson curses the day he agreed to look out for his best friend’s wayward sister. The charismatic earl is traveling to Paris to uncover the truth behind his father’s death, but his desire for Claire threatens to be his undoing. From France to Italy, on a journey of passionate discovery and danger, Nathan is honor-bound to protect her—from himself most of all. What can he offer Claire? Only love, as he sets out to prove to the woman of his dreams that she belongs to him—body, heart, and soul. 

Advance praise for Loving the Earl

“Loving the Earl is charming and fast-paced. It’s filled with passion, intrigue, a resourceful heroine you’ll love, and a delicious hero you’ll fall in love with. An absolute delight!”—New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jacquie D’Alessandro

“Sharon Cullen is a natural-born storyteller. Her twists and turns will keep you turning the pages.”—Margo Maguire, bestselling author of The Highlander’s Desire

“With its bad-boy hero and spunky heroine, Sharon Cullen’s Loving the Earl is sure to please readers looking for more than the typical Regency come-out story. Intrigue and romance fuse seamlessly in this adventurous romp that takes the reader from Dover to Paris to Venice and finally to a sigh-worthy happily ever after.”—Shana Galen, author of True Spies

Sharon Cullen’s BIO:

Sharon Cullen is the author of the historical romance, THE NOTORIOUS LADY ANNE, LOVING THE EARL, and PLEASING THE PIRATE (available February 2014). She’s also published in romantic suspense, paranormal romance and contemporary romance.

Her other job descriptions include chauffer, laundress, cook and mediator to her three very busy kids, her husband and two dogs. She lives in southwest Ohio with her brood although her dream is to someday retire to St. Maarten and live on the beach.

If you’d like to find out more about Sharon and her books, you can visit her website. She’s addicted to social networking so you can find her on Facebook, Tumblr and Twitter. Friend her! Like her! Follow her! She’d love to hang out with you and talk about her passion—books.

Links for LOVING THE EARL:
Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Random House

Got Ink?

Writing is my dream job, but my day job is actually about as stodgy as it gets.  The forced conformity has started to chafe like an ugly polyester uniform, over a girdle in a size too small, and toe-pinching heels.  All around me, I see tattoos decorating arms, legs, wrists, and backs.  The book covers in my favorite genres sport heroes with tattoo-painted muscles.  The real me wants purple hair, a piercing, and a couple of tattoos. 

My characters have the freedom that I am denied.  In Too Fast, Savannah has her nose pierced, and Luke has a tattoo.  They live in Athens, Georgia, home of the University of Georgia, and a city close to my heart.  In Athens, the unique mix of music, culture, and higher education has fostered an environment that encourages individuality. 

Luke is no billionaire.  In fact, he’s got the responsibilities of a man twice his age and the means of a twenty-year-old.  Luke wouldn’t spend money on a tattoo without a good reason.  Since he didn’t have any friends who were tattoo artists (which by the way, each of us should have), Luke needed body art with real meaning.  His art signified his commitment to caring for his younger sister.  He works to shield her from the tumultuous home life caused by his mother’s mental illness.  Luke’s tattoo ends up playing a big role in the story.

I believe that the act of getting a tattoo always has meaning—sometimes a rite of passage, coming of age, or act of bravery.  I have seen body art honoring loved ones, memorializing special events, and featuring literary characters. 

Do you have a tattoo with special meaning? 
How do you express yourself through body art?

Too Fast by Alexia Haynes

Twenty-year-old Savannah enjoys a one-time one-night stand because a real relationship would never fit into her busy schedule.  Working two jobs and pursuing her degree takes all of her time.  Besides, the guys she has dated haven’t been much better than the random barfly.

It’s a good thing Luke’s body is honed by the long hours of carpentry and construction because he carries the weight of his family on his shoulders.  School hasn’t been an option for him since he dropped out to make the house payments his mother had failed to make. 

Luke finds what he’s been longing for in a night with Savannah.  She’s determined to stop with a one-night stand, but he wants more.  Neither can deny the perfection of their passionate interludes, but with such imperfect lives, do they have any chance for a future together?  Suddenly they’re falling in love but it’s all happening much too fast.