Note from DD:

I almost didn’t get this posted in time! We had a huge storm last night that wiped out the power for hours. The house got hot. Candles made it hotter, so I blew them out and went to bed. Nothing better to do! Then one of the dogs started barking. Harry doesn’t like storms, and he expects someone to sit in the living room with him or he’s a nervous wreck. I’m not sure when power came back on, but I awoke to air-conditioned air and lights on all over the place, and with Harry nowhere to be found. Rat bastard. So, now I have a crick in my neck from sleeping in the recliner. Can you guess where I’m going as soon as I post this? Yeah, to my nice soft mattress.

Anyway, Brenda Maxfield is my guest today. Check out her new book!

Assaulted and pregnant, sixteen-year-old Lizbet Morgan is shipped off to give birth in secrecy and hand her baby over to strangers. When she returns home to her family’s strict religious community, she is expected to pick up where she left off.  But the nightmare isn’t over. Her close friend Johnny isn’t the only one asking questions, and Lizbet fears that the reason for her absence will soon be discovered. She must decide whether to tell the truth or continue to obey a religious system that forces her to tell intolerable lies. 

 Excerpt from Lizbet’s Lie

I held out the fuzzy yellow blanket, and Edie took a step closer. When I saw her hands close around it, my heart turned to brick. She yanked gently, but I couldn’t let go. She yanked again as if in a mini tug-of-war.

Ned put his arm around me. “Let go, Lizbet. Give it to Edie.”

Edie’s hands dropped from the blanket. “It’s all right, honey. You don’t have to give it to me if you don’t want to.”

“Let go,” demanded a voice behind me, and I turned to look at Farah. She stood at the entrance to the hallway where my bedroom had been located for the last seven months. Her eyes pierced mine with firm resolve. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

I turned back to Edie’s pitying expression. She gave me a gentle smile. “It was good of you to knit it for the baby.  I’ll give it to—”

“Don’t say their names!” I cried and scrunched my shoulders up to my ears. I drew a sharp breath, and Farah brushed my side where she’d come to stand.

Farah pried the blanket from my hands and handed it to Edie. “Everything is going to be fine, you’ll see,” she said close to my ear. “I’m giving Edie the blanket. Then the baby will have something to remember you by.”

Edie took the blanket and pressed it to her chest. Tears filled her eyes, and the pity in them deepened. “Lizbet, it was an honor to have you with us during these past months. You take care of yourself. And if you need anything, let us know. We know it’s over for you now, but we still care.”

Edie’s husband Steve came out from the side office. “I guess this is good-bye then. Stay in touch if you want to.”

Edie closed in. “Lizbet,” she said and her voice was low. “Beverly wants you to continue counseling. She says you aren’t finished. You ask your momma and daddy, you hear? And I’ll send them Beverly’s report.”

Ned stepped to my side and helped me into my coat. “Don’t worry, Edie. We’ll take good care of her.”

Like my folks would ever in a million years agree to counseling.

“Lizbet.” It was Farah. She looked ready to cry. “You better visit me. Don’t you forget.”

I reached out and gave her a hard hug over her bulging stomach. “If I can.”

I walked to the door and realized Ned hadn’t followed me. I turned, and he was standing before Farah staring at her like he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Ned, I’m finished here. Let’s go.”

He flinched and put his attention back on me. “Of course, Lizbet. Let’s get you home.”

Steve opened the door and the crisp spring air settled over us. I pulled my jacket a bit tighter.

“Don’t forget,” Farah called after me.

Ned’s truck was waiting under the portico. He lifted my suitcase into the bed and then opened my door. I stepped up into the cab and sat down with care, trying to situate myself against the soreness.

Ned hopped into the driver’s seat. “You okay?”

I fixed my eyes ahead through the windshield, and gazed at nothing. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Ned coughed and put the key in the ignition. The truck roared to life. “No reason. No reason at all.”

But he watched me. I could feel his eyes. I felt like I was balancing on a tightrope stretched over a cliff instead of sitting in my brother’s truck on a torn-up vinyl seat. Any tiny breeze would topple me, and I’d crash with a splat in the cavern below and no one would be able to put me together again.

The radio blasted some lame country song.

“Do they know I’m coming?” I asked.

Purchase Links:
Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/mcqoswc
Barnes and Noble: http://tinyurl.com/ks43j7b
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/418064
Astraea Press: http://astraeapress.com/#!/Lizbets-Lie-By-Brenda-Maxfield/p/34826687

Brenda Maxfield Author Bio:

My passion is writing! What could be more delicious than inventing new characters and seeing where they take you?

I’m a teacher so I spend most of my waking hours with young people. I love chatting with them and hearing their views on love and life. My students are magical, and I am honored to be part of their lives.

I’ve lived in Honduras, Grand Cayman, and Costa Rica. Presently, I live in Indiana with my husband, Paul. We have two grown children and three precious grandchildren, special delivery from Africa.

When not teaching, I love to hole up in our lake cabin and write — often with a batch of popcorn nearby. (Oh, and did I mention dark chocolate?)

I enjoy getting to know my readers, so feel free to write me at: contact@brendamaxfield.com. Join my Newsletter Gang and get the latest news, contests, releases: http://mad.ly/signups/85744/join. Visit me to learn about all my books and some smart and sassy, clean teen reads: www.brendamaxfield.com  Happy Reading!

Contact Links:
Website: http://www.brendamaxfield.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorBrendaMaxfield
Goodreads Author Page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6570620.Brenda_Maxfield
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BrendaMaxfield
Blog: http://www.brendamaxfield.wordpress.com
Email: contact@brendamaxfield.com
Amazon author Page: http://tinyurl.com/psj82bj
Newsletter: http://mad.ly/signups/85744/join

I’ve always loved cowboys. In fact, Roy Rogers was my first crush…at age five. Although I’m known more for writing contemporary romantic suspense, I simply had to give in to the temptation of writing an erotic historical western romance series called Loving the Lawman. MASTERING THE MARSHAL is the third and latest book in the series. I’m currently intrigued by the lean-hipped, drop-dead sexy U.S. Deputy Marshal Raylan Givens and his take-no-prisoners attitude in the TNT cable series Justified. He’s beyond hot.

So tell me who you’re crushing on. Two lucky winners will receive an electronic copy of SEDUCING THE SHERIFF, book 1 of Loving the Lawman series.

Is she a dead ringer…or a dead woman walking?

When U.S. Deputy Marshal Sam Dunaway arrives in Kenton Valley, Texas, for a murder trial, the last thing he expects is to run into his late wife Celine. The one who supposedly died in a boarding house fire shortly after she ran off with his life savings.

Despite her Plain Jane disguise, Sam isn’t fooled. As soon as his business with the trial is finished, the woman who broke his heart will pay.

Three years ago, Celine had good reason to use Sam’s money to go into hiding—and it’s a secret she must still keep, even if it means certain arrest and imprisonment. Because coming clean risks crushing rejection.

In spite of themselves, the embers of love roar in to a passionate inferno, leaving Sam with a hell of a choice. To stick to his principles…or follow his heart.

Warning: This story contains a woman with a sewing basket full of secrets, and a highly pissed-off U.S. Marshal wants her dead or alive—though alive is better. Just sayin’.

EXCERPT:

Kenton Valley, Texas Hill Country, April 1890

U.S. Deputy Marshal Sam Dunaway opened the door to the sheriff’s office and nodded. “Sheriff Cordero Tate?”

The sheriff nodded. “Cord’ll do.” The sheriff was tall and broad shouldered and showed no signs of his prior tragedy. He rose and offered his hand.

“Marshal Dunaway,” Sam nodded and took the lawman’s hand. “I’d like to see the prisoner and how he’s housed.”

Tate stood and opened the door leading off the main room. It led to the cellblock, containing two cells. Only one was occupied. Barnes was stretched out, apparently asleep on the bunk—as if in a few days he wouldn’t be sleeping forever.

Sam turned and walked back to the outer office. “Appears you have a sturdy enough jail. Any chance the rest of his gang might try and break him out?”

“I’ve got two trustworthy deputies. Besides”—the sheriff shook his head—“the gang’s leader was killed last summer. The rest of ’em splintered after that. ’Course, you never know. Catching Barnes here was more of an accident than anything. He couldn’t resist visiting his sick mama. Thought he might show up, so we took turns keeping an eye on the Barnes homestead.”

“Smart thinking. If I’m not mistaken, you’re the one who killed their leader, Tyler?” Not to mention the sheriff’s new wife was half-sister to the ringleader. Wonder that didn’t complicate matters.

“That’s right.” Tate sat, gesturing for Sam to pull up a chair.

A man of few words. Good. Removing his Stetson, Sam hooked the toe of his boot around a chair leg, dragged it over and straddled it. Now they could get down to the business of the trial. “I need a place to hold the trial. Any suggestions?”

“Haven’t had much call for trials till now. There’s the school or the church or the saloon.”

“Good. I’ll check ’em out. Prefer a neutral ground over the saloon. Any chance we’ll find twelve sober men come trial time?”

Tate shrugged. “If you’d rather move the trial to a bigger town, it won’t hurt my feelings none.”

Sam shook his head. “I’m here to see he gets one. Don’t care if it’s fair or not. That’s up to the judge, not me.” He stood and settled the Stetson on his head. “I’ll head over to the church, then to the school. Let you know which one I decide.”

The sheriff nodded. “Any word on when the judge will arrive?”

“Few days. He’s presiding over a trial in Llano.” He headed to the door, then stopped. “The livery?”

“Livery stables are behind the boarding house at the north end of town. Miz Foley oughta be able to fix you up while you’re here.” Tate jerked his head in the direction of the cells. “She provides meals for the prisoner, and she’s a damn fine cook.”

Sam touched the brim of his hat, nodding his appreciation.

Outside, he untied and mounted his horse, then headed north, passing the general store and dry goods. He glimpsed the tall, slender figure of a woman standing in the window of the dry goods store, a sudden apparition that had him twisting around in his saddle to get a better look. But his horse had other ideas and kept heading north.

Damn. She looked familiar, so familiar his heart sped up and his mouth went dry as sand. Just the memory of their loving stiffened his prick. But it couldn’t be Celine. His wife had burned to death in a boardinghouse fire almost three years ago.

When the news of her death had finally reached him, he’d still been too angry to grieve. She never would’ve died if she’d stayed home where she belonged instead of running off with his life savings. Served the bitch right—that was what he’d thought at the time.

But now… If this woman really was Celine and not someone who was her spitting image, what he wouldn’t give to bed his wife one last time before he locked up her low-down, thieving ass.

Web site: http://marienicoleryan.com/

You can find my books at all the usual online retailers.

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Marie-Nicole-Ryan/e/B002BOHSCG/

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Marie-Nicole-Ryan?store=book&keyword=Marie-Nicole+Ryan/

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/search?Query=Marie-Nicole+Ryan/

iBooks/Apple: http://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/marie-nicole-ryan/id411245235?mt=11/

Hello Everyone! Thank you to Delilah for having us here. For those of you who don’t know about us, yet, we are Marley, Victoria and Haylie and we make up Boyfriend Bookstand.

We are the authors of Kink vs. Class, our novella, and Grinding in Greenville our first full length novel. We are three best friends who might not have a lot in common on surface but are bound by our love of books and circumstance.

Marley is a sexually driven, free-spirited individual who takes what she wants. She is unapologetic for her antics, knows who she is, is fearless, and considered by some untamable.  Victoria is Marley’s polar opposite.  She is a bit on the naïve side, very conservative and (was) a bit on the sexually inexperienced side.  Victoria’s life hasn’t turned out quite the way she had hoped for, but life has a funny way of working out. Haylie has been through some rough situations, but through it all she still believes in her happily-ever-after.  She’s stronger than she looks and loves a dirty book. She may be seen as soft, but she has an indestructible core that shines through.

We found each other in college and became bound together through the books we love and our book boyfriends. We’ve known each other for so long and been with each other through so much we decided to write about our crazy adventures.  You can read about all of our crazy adventures at the links below.

For now, we want you to tell us about your best friends. How did you meet and the craziest adventure you’ve been on! We’ll choose one person to win a E-copy of Grinding in Greenville! (Winner will be today at midnight)

One-Click Links for Kink vs. Class:

Amazon US:  http://tinyurl.com/pkaqg27
Amazon UK:  http://tinyurl.com/kmfg8g9
Amazon CA:  http://tinyurl.com/n32s6hr

One-Click Links for Grinding in Greenville:
Amazon US:  http://tinyurl.com/p34wews
Amazon UK:  http://tinyurl.com/qjno2eu
Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/k87s3lj
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/lmx7sws
INDI BOUND: http://tinyurl.com/no5bvue
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/474203
Google Play: http://tinyurl.com/nfc5pxa

Don’t forget to take a peek at our hot trailer:
http://youtu.be/kBaTBHaq8U8

If you want to get to know us better, stop by any of the following links to get more information on us or if you want to stay up-to-date with all of our releases text BFBS to 96362!

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BoyfriendBookstand
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BoyBookstand
Instagram: http://instagram.com/boyfriendbookstand
Website: http://www.boyfriendbookstand.com/

If you want a peek into the craziness that is us, then stop by an upcoming takeover! Or you can join our Street Team if you think you’re a real #BoyfriendBookSlut:
http://www.boyfriendbookstand.com/street-team-fan-club.html

People say that writing is a solitary occupation and to a great extent it is. I mean, no one can do the writing for you, nor would you want them to. But it also takes a lot of research, especially for me. I am known as Miss Picky because I go to great lengths to get things right.

When I was writing Finding Julia, there were some specific scenes in the story that I needed details on. For example, there’s a cabin in the woods in Massachusetts. I had to know if there was still open land outside Boston, where it was, how much open space, all that good stuff. I managed to find a real estate agent who was willing to take time out of her busy day to answer my questions, although I think she was secretly hoping I was actually looking for property to buy.

There is also a scene at a restaurant called Harry’s House. Now this is of course a fictional place but it’s based on a real restaurant, Little Harry’s, a French colonial structure in Detroit with a lot of ambience. I lived in that city for twenty-five years and Little Harry’s was a place where Detroit’s gentrified elite as well as their Mafia elite frequently dined. Media were strictly prohibited so it was a place where people could be assured of privacy, especially with the restaurant divided into small rooms.

Unfortunately it no longer exists. Singer Anita Baker bought it and planned to turn it into a recording studio. She ran into so much resistance she built an IHop instead. Kind of like when my late husband and I went to Texarkana to see some of the historic landmarks of his ancestors and at one spot found a Taco Bell.

Oh, well.

FINDING JULIA

Can a moment of passion outlast years of secrets and misery?

Sometimes life is not fair. For Julia Patterson meeting Luke Buchanan opened the door to a new life and brought her to life as a woman. In his arms she learns for the first time how real passion and emotion can enrich your life. He claims her body with the pleasure of erotic sex and his heart with unrestricted love. But Fate was laughing at Julia, just as she is about to step over the threshold into a wonderful new life. When her almost-ex-husband Charles is diagnosed with a fatal heart condition her divorce is put on hold along with the rest of her life. Turning her back on Luke and the intense passion and emotion they shared is the most difficult thing she’s ever done. But Julia has a secret, one that Charles has discovered and uses like a club. Thirteen years later when Luke walks back into her life the passion and emotion are just as explosive as ever. Will they finally have their chance at happiness or will her secret destroy it forever?

http://www.amazon.com/Finding-Julia-Desiree-Holt-ebook/dp/B00LAE8S0E/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1406635677&sr=1-1&keywords=Finding+Julia

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/30586

Excerpt #1:

“Our executive vice president is tied up in a meeting right now,” Howard whispered as the executive staff filed in. “He’s the one who says yea or nay. He’ll join us as soon as he can.”

Great. Would he expect her to do it all over again for him?

She sighed and began her presentation again.

It was well into the afternoon and she was pulling out copies of the proposed budget to distribute when the door to the boardroom opened quietly, and Julia’s stomach dropped to the floor. She felt as if an electric surge slammed into her, plucking at every one of her nerve endings.

The man who silently took a seat at the end of the table wasn’t necessarily handsome, but he was one hundred percent male. Liquid brown eyes were framed by the thickest lashes she had ever seen on a man. She noticed the strong jaw and the lines of character etched on an incredibly masculine face. Straight brown hair, a hint of silver reflecting in the lights, was worn just a little long, giving him a slightly rakehell look.

The classic dark business suit barely concealed the power he radiated. More than that, he exuded an aura of self, of authority, of comfort in his own skin few men were able to attain. She could think of only three words to describe him. Dark. Edgy. Dangerous. In her entire thirty years, no man had ever affected her the way this man did. Certainly not Charles. She clamped down on her reaction, forbidding herself to let her thoughts wander into forbidden territory. As she’d learned, her judgment where men were concerned left a great deal to be desired.

“Let me interrupt a moment.” Manning jumped to his feet. “Julia, meet Lucas Buchanan, our executive vice president. He’s been in another meeting until now.”

“I’m pleased you could join us, Mr. Buchanan.” Julia pasted on her professional smile and hoped her voice sounded firmer to the others than it did to her.

Lucas Buchanan nodded at her. “Luke, please. Sorry to be late. Please don’t let me interrupt.”

She struggled to pick up the threads of what she’d been saying, her brain suddenly addled, and her hands unsteady. It took every ounce of personal discipline to keep focused on her presentation.

Excerpt #2

“Let’s hope,” he muttered. “All right. Be sure to let me know how things are. I’ll be worried about you. Here. Give me your cell phone.”

She pulled it out of her purse and handed it to him. He punched some numbers and gave it back to her.

“There. My private number’s in there. I’m speed dial number one. I’ll have my phone on all the time. Call me whenever.”

“Oh, Luke.” Her voice broke and she dug deep to get control of herself. “Why couldn’t we have met fifteen years ago?”

“I don’t think we would have been ready for each other then.” He kissed her one last time, then enfolded her in his arms. “Just remember. No matter what happens in your life, you will always be mine.”

“Yes, I will.” She was fighting tears and clinging to him as if she’d never let him go before taking a step back. “Goodbye, Luke.” And then she couldn’t help herself. “I love you.” She yanked up the handle of her suitcase and nearly ran into the terminal, dragging the luggage behind her.

Julia went through check-in and security as if in a fog. She bought herself another cup of tea and sat in the waiting area, sipping at the hot liquid, hoping it would ease the sudden chill invading her. The man sitting next to her was kind enough to nudge her when the call for boarding came. She entered the plane and took her seat like a robot, buckled in and leaned her head back.

Images flashed through her mind: she and Luke dancing, bodies moving slowly to the music, their first night together, the wonder of exploring each other’s bodies, the night in the cabin, warmed by the flames of the fire, their kiss at the airport, more poignant than sensual.

What a mess. The damn divorce papers still unsigned and now she had no idea when or how they would be. Luke had said he would wait but for how long? And how would the twins handle this? Their relationship with their father left a lot to be desired yet surely this would affect them emotionally. Her life was slowly being flushed down the toilet and she was left with a very inadequate plunger. Tears begin to trickle from the corners of her eyes, and her stomach knotted.

“Excuse me.” The flight attendant was leaning towards her, over the empty seat next to her. “Forgive me for asking but is something wrong?”

“No.” Julia sniffled, then tried on a smile. “Just fighting a cold is all.”

“Can I get you anything?” The attendant was obviously concerned.

“Some hot tea would be nice, if you could. And thank you.” Maybe she could drown herself in an ocean of the stuff.

“Tea it is. Coming right up.”

She realized as she sipped the hot liquid, she would now always associate it with Luke. She hoped she would still be able to drink it without crying. The tea seemed to settle her still-jumbled stomach enough so she could relax a little, but it did nothing to rid her of the feeling of despair creeping over her.

About Desiree Holt

Known the world over as the oldest living author of erotic romance, and referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, Desiree Holt is three times a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award (and a winner in 2014), a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award winner for best BDSM book of the year, and winner of the Holt Medallion for Excellence in Romance Literature. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.

“Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.” (Romance Junkies)

“Desiree Holt is like the Nora Roberts of erotic romance.” USA Today Happy Ever After Blog

Learn more about her and read her novels here:

www.desireeholt.com
www.desiremeonly.com
www.facebook.com/desireeholtauthor
Twitter @desireeholt
Pinterest: desiree02holt
Also on LinkedIn and Google+

October is right around the corner and with it comes my favorite holiday. Halloween! This is the time of year that brings to mind all the supernatural creatures that have haunted our collective memories since the dawn of time. Vampires, witches, werewolves, ghosts and demons. What interesting creatures to write about!

I chose to write a romance series about a family of witches. Ever since I was a little girl, witches have fascinated me. The mysterious spells and incantations, the power to change, create or move things sparked my imagination. When I decided to write this series, I first decided that I would set the world within the Regency era. It’s one of my favorite time periods and I love reading paranormal romances set in that time so it seemed natural that I do so, too. Second, I had to decide what type of magic they used. I narrowed my choices to 4 kinds of magic.

1. Folk Magic: This type of magic includes superstitions, old wives tales and folk practices. These were performed by common people to do things like heal the sick, bring good harvests or grant fertility. It’s often referred to as Low Magic.
2.  Natural Magic: This magic uses things of nature such as herbs, stones and candles. It can also include the moon, sun and planets.
3.  Ceremonial Magic: This is the kind of magic where rituals are necessary. It depends heavily on knowledge gained from books, spellbooks or grimoires. The rituals can be simple or complicated with specific words or gestures required. This is often called High Magic.
4. Fantasy Magic: These sorts of spells are completely fictional, made up by the author’s imagination. Pure fantasy.

For the world of the Merriweather Witches, I found that each witch had their own method of performing spells. Although most of them use folk magic, there are others that require specific rituals in order to cast. I found it was a good combination. And I use a lot of fantasy magic. It was simply too much fun to come up with spells and magical abilities for my witches that had no basis in fact or reality.

And as there are good and bad people, there are good and bad witches in my fictional world. Some stick to white magic, which is the kind where no harm will come to any. Then there is black magic, or dark magic. This is the kind that can harm a person such as curses or hexes. Performing this magic can taint a witch’s soul, turning them from good to evil if they’re not strong enough. Some of the characters in my books have to struggle with that, too.

It’s a fun world to write about and since its completely fictional there are many adventures and romances found within the pages. Here’s a little about my most recent book…

The Witch’s Thief

To save her sister’s life, Julia Grey seeks a spell hidden somewhere within Merriweather Manor. Her position as a lady’s companion affords her the freedom to search the house. But time is running out. The necromancer she’s bargained with is growing impatient. And an unexpected appearance of a man from her past makes matters worse in an already complicated situation.

Basil Merriweather returns to England after ten years abroad to discover his childhood sweetheart living in his home. But, he’s no longer the carefree man of his youth and she’s hiding something–deadly secrets Basil vows to uncover even as he hides a dark secret of his own.

While neither Basil nor Julia will trust in the other, their hearts speak a truer language.  In a grand attempt to save Julia’s sister and Basil’s life, the two must finally confess sinister truths. Will their admissions help or hinder any future they may have together? Or will the necromancer destroy all in a vile attempt at revenge.

Excerpt:

“What are you doing?”

He ignored her frantic questioning. Instead, he blocked out the sound of her voice and raised his arms into the air at his sides, his fingers splayed out as he extended his senses to scan the area. His power eased out, like extensions of his fingertips, stretching into the corners of the room, seeking, searching for the source of the magic he sensed.

It was here…somewhere.

He had sensed it earlier on his arrival, but being that his aunt and siblings practiced magic on a regular basis he’d never given it a second thought.

This room, however, stank with it. He smelled the odor, something strangely like sulfur…

“A spell has been cast in this room,” he muttered. A strange spell. Odd. A spell he’d never sensed before, something new. It felt off is some way he couldn’t explain. Who would be working new magic of this kind in his home? And, in this room in particular. Aunt Petunia worked her spells in the privacy of her rooms upstairs, or sometimes in the gardens, but never in this room. And his siblings each, practiced in their own private settings, places where they could concentrate without the threat of being disturbed. A fairly difficult task with the number of people normally in residence at Merriweather Manor.

He took a step closer to the center of the room where he sensed a surge of power. He shivered as coldness seeped into his skin. It wrapped around his arm, sinking into his flesh, right down to the bone. This was not right.

The magic in his house was always full of warmth and gentleness. Goodness and love. This magic chilled him to the bone. His heart skipped a beat. There was fear, terror, pain. This spell was full of darkness.

To Buy:
The Wild Rose Press
Amazon
Nook
All Romance Ebooks
Bookstrand

About the Author:

Tricia Schneider is an author of paranormal and gothic romance. Before the supernatural took possession of her pen, she worked for several years in a Waldenbooks store as Assistant Manager and bookseller. She now writes full-time while raising her 3 young children. She lives with her musician husband and 2 neurotic cats in the coal country of Pennsylvania.

To learn more about her and the books she writes, check out her website or blog. She can also be found on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Pinterest.

UPDATE: The winner of this contest is…Lisa C!

* * * * *

Thought the word orgy in the title might catch your attention.  

I’m in the midst of trying to get three projects out the door. One of them I haven’t even started yet. Why? I don’t have a clue what to write.

I’m stuck for an adventure for my next SEAL hero in my Uncharted SEALs series. Here was the premise of the first story:

WATCH OVER ME

When Deke Warrick accepts an unsanctioned detail to keep tabs on a congressman’s niece while she vacations in the Caribbean, he expects the only dangers he’ll face are sunburn and a rum hangover. Determined to keep his distance, his resolve is challenged by a chance encounter with the beautiful Nicky Martir—and then shattered when she’s snatched from their hotel room.

The next story will also be a novella, so no long convoluted plot. Something simple and quick, with opportunity for nookie. Seems simple, right? Let’s see how simple you think it is after you get done trying to come up with one idea.

Contest Challenge

That’s all you have to come up with. One idea. And you know what? Give me the outrageous ones too that you know I won’t be able to use, because this is a brainstorming idea and no idea is a bad one when you brainstorm. So, if the best you’ve got is “Hero lets himself be kidnapped by aliens to rescue heroine who has been taken”—go for it! 🙂

The only help I will give you? I have a title: Rules of Engagement.

What’s up for grabs? How about I let you choose. Winner can choose any book of mine available in download form. And guess what? I won’t choose the best idea. I’ll let my trusty random generator choose the winner. So for realz, y’all–give me an idea. Even a dumb one. Even a funny one. You have fun with this.

And after I have a list and have culled it a bit, maybe I’ll put together a poll… No guarantees I’ll use any of your ideas, but maybe you’ll spark a fire in my imagination.

Pssst! Brent’s my cousin! 🙂 ~DD

I just finished edits on the first book of a three-book series. I’m on top of the world about it. Strange thing is, the story was supposed to be a short story about a blind date. No more than four or five pages in an anthology. But that’s not what the characters wanted.

As I started writing the story, ideas popped into my head about each character’s past. Who was the main character, Heath Firestone? What happened in his life to keep him single and uninterested in dating at thirty-five years old? Who really is this mysterious man, Anton Barrett, and why did Heath’s co-worker Violet set him up with three disasters before introducing Anton?

As the writing continued, I felt like Heath was in my head directing the story, and it quickly passed the usual word count for a short story. Thus, the first book of the Golden Scepter series was born. Heath ended up the target of a fifty year conspiracy to wipe out his family. Gun fights, treasure hunt, the Orient Express, and a hidden chamber in the catacombs of Salzburg flew from my fingers at Heath’s direction onto the virtual page.

Then a new villain, Justin Pennington, pushed the story further into book two, another full novel. I’ve just finished that one and am going back to fill in anything Justin and Heath missed. But both are still there, making sure I don’t change the essence of their tale.

And I can already hear the characters clamoring to be heard for book three. It’s amazing to me how these stories keep coming, all from a quick idea about a blind date. Some of my editors have commented about putting Heath through all his trials and tribulations in the first book, but the reality for me is Heath told me his story and wanted me to write it. I can hardly wait to see what the real outcome of the full story is. While the idea is already complete in my mind, Heath has been throwing me surprises and loops as I put the words onto my screen.

Bring it on, Heath. Tell me another story.

****

Brent Archer started writing in 2011 at the urging of his cousins. He’s published in several anthologies, and will celebrate his first cover with his own name on it on October 3^rd with the release of his story Halfway Out of the Dark with MuseItHot. You’ll be able to read about Heath’s story starting in Spring 2015 with the release of The Bastard’s Key as the first book of the Golden Scepter series. Visit Brent at his website www.brentarcher.net or follow him on Twitter @brentarcherwrit.