My name is Sierra Brave, and I’m excited to be featured on Delilah’s blog today! A big thank you to her and you for having me. In my recently released book, Real Cowboys Love Cats, the heroine is a volunteer with a Trap-Neuter-Release (TNR) program.
So what’s a TNR program?
First, let’s discuss what TNRs are not. TNRs are by no means an alternative to responsible pet ownership and aren’t meant for cats that could easily fit into a family and be adopted.
TNR organizations attempt to manage feral populations through the non-lethal option of capturing strays, finding low or no cost spay and neuter resources and then returning the animal to it where it was found. TNRs have both pros and cons and as many opponents as proponents. Advocates of TNRs believe the program saves cat lives while also allowing feral cats to thin vermin populations. Detractors believe TNRs are irresponsible at best and dangerous at worst. Personally, I think anyone willing to donate their time in an effort to help others (humans or animals) is admirable. Which side of the debate you fall on is up to you, but either way, please spay and neuter your pets.
So, onto the main event! Real Cowboys Love Cats is a smoking hot, BBW + cowboy/shifter romance. Although the book is the second installment in the Horse Mountain Shifters series, it’s a standalone with a HEA and absolutely no cheating.
Real Cowboys Love Cats
Having grown up isolated from other shifters, Abram’s not completely comfortable in his own skin. Nevertheless, after the death of his beloved human mother, he relocated to Horse Mountain to reconnect with his father’s side of the family. Love was the furthermost thing from his mind until he met Maddie.
When Maddie meets Abram, she’s smitten but doesn’t see much of a future. A man, who doesn’t like cats, should be a deal breaker for a mountain lion shifter like her. Yet every time he’s near, her body goes crazy. Could he possibly be her fated mate?
Absently, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Wow. She’s super cute. She had porcelain skin and a short, button nose that accented her high cheekbones and heart-shaped face. Stop staring. You’re here on official business not to flirt with hot babes. His silent, self-scolding did nothing to deter his pounding heart; he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She lifted a meowing meat-bag from her lap, bringing his count to three, before placing the orange tabby on the floor. How can someone so good-looking have so many disreputable pets? As she stood, he eyed her full figure with interest. The tiny bounce in her step as she walked over made her large breasts jiggle beneath the snug tee shirt she was wearing. She stopped in front of him and presented her hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Maddie.”
He yanked her arm before twisting it behind her back while reaching out and grabbing a fistful of her hair and then pulling it taut. It’s as if he can read my mind! He began to buck his hips, gradually building speed. He pounded into her, creating an amazing slapping sound with each mighty thrust. “Yes! That’s it, Abram…so good.”
He leaned over her back, his lips near her ear. “You like?”
“Yes.” She teetered, balancing her weight on her knees and the one arm he’d allowed her.
Sierra Brave is a multi-published author of blush-inducing, racy romance. She writes across genres, dabbling in a little bit of everything, including ménage and BDSM. Her love of erotic fiction started in her last year of high school when she first read the sensual classic, Fanny Hill. She felt so naughty yet liberated with her copy tucked away in her book bag and hopes her work will have the same delicious effect on her readers.
Wyoming is a land of contrasts. There’s the rugged peaks of the Teton Range on the west side of the state, just south of the geysers and painted pots of Yellowstone. On the eastern edge of the state, you have Devil’s Tower among the rolling hills of near Hulett. In between, you have miles and miles of prairie and high plains, where there are more cattle than people.
But in the middle, there’s a strange geological site that few tourists ever see. Even from the highway that goes by it, you can easily miss it if you don’t know it’s there. Until a few years ago, you were able to stand right at the crumbling edge if you dared to look over the sight, but now it’s fenced off.
The area goes by the name of Hell’s Half Acre, and I’m sure the early settlers thought it deserved the title. It’s a lot bigger than half an acre-actually about 320 acres. It’s an area of cliffs and rock spires and boulders and an assortment of colors. It’s hard to imagine what geological forces created it.
Lori Grenville, the main character in my new release, Wolves’ Gambit, didn’t have the opportunity to visit Hell’s Half Acre while she was in Wyoming. (I couldn’t figure out a way to write it into the story.) She spent her time in the dusty plains nearer to the Bighorn Mountains. She didn’t have time for sightseeing anyway.
Wolf-shifter Lori Grenville was rescued from near-slavery and a brutal pack leader by the Free Wolves. To pay back the favor, she’s dedicated her life to helping others in the same situation, leading shifters to safety and a new start, risking her life in the process. She’s faced down alphas and has no qualms in undermining pack structure.
Now she’s challenged with the task of restoring an alpha to his rightful place. If she gets it right, she can stop a war from ripping apart two packs and spreading across an entire state. If she fails, she’ll be among the first to die.
There’s still the option of walking away and letting the Jaeger and Destin packs destroy each other. That means she’ll fail in her original mission of rescuing the daughter of the Jaeger alpha before the girl is forced into marriage for political gain.
Lori hasn’t failed in a mission yet. This one may be the exception.
“Breathe, dammit, breathe!”
Hands pounded on her chest. A spasm ran through her body and she gasped. Air rushed to her aching lungs. She struggled to breathe but her throat was blocked. She couldn’t stop coughing and bile rose. It settled at the back of her mouth. The acid mingled with the sweet flavor of blood and her stomach churned. She retched and a seizure wracked her body.
She was rolled on one side, too weak to protest. Her hair was gently brushed away from her face. She took a shuddering breath and spit, trying to get the bitter tang out of her mouth.
“I’ve got you,” a low voice said.
She heard the words both with her ears and her mind. She slammed the blocks into place. It was too risky to reveal herself when she had no defense against an attack.
A trickle of water slipped across her lips and her tongue darted out to capture it. “More,” she pleaded, and then coughed again.
“I’m going to sit you up so you can have a proper sip. Don’t worry, I have you, little human.”
Strong arms wrapped around her and brought her to a sitting position. The screaming pain in her leg settled into a dull ache. A warm body behind her gave her something to lean against. A cool object was pressed to her lips and she tilted her head back as water slipped into her mouth.
“Spit it out,” ordered a new voice.
Reluctantly, she did so. It seemed a shame to waste perfectly fine water.
“This time, swish it around and rinse out your mouth.” It seemed like a good idea. She didn’t want the bitterness of blood to ruin the water’s freshness. She spat out the third sip as well, and the coughing started again.
“It’ll get better. You can swallow this time.”
She lapped greedily as the water bottle touched her lips, demanding more. It was pulled away far too soon. She whined in disappointment.
“A little at a time.”
The swallow was bigger this time. She tried to open her eyes but they were glued shut. Like a tired child, she raised her fists to rub them. Someone grabbed her arms to stop her and she groaned.
“Let me wash your face first. We need to see what the damage is and don’t want to injure your eyes.” Another new voice. How many people were there?
While wet fabric stroked her face, she listened. She counted the breathing of four people close to her, but quiet murmurs told her there were many more nearby. A soft buzz in her head was either the beginning of a massive headache or a sign of many unheard conversations going on.
Born and raised among the rolling hills of western Pennsylvania, P.J. MacLayne still finds inspiration for her books in that landscape. She is a computer geek by day and a writer by night who currently lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. When she’s not in front of a computer screen, she might be found exploring the back roads of the nearby national forests and parks. In addition to the Free Wolves’ stories, she is also the author of the Oak Grove series.
Timing is everything. Several years ago, a famous actress passed away. As I pondered her career and beauty, I got inspired to write a story about a mermaid, a human heroine, and the quest for revenge against a man who’d hurt her. Unfortunately, I wrote only a few chapters before shelving it. It wasn’t the right time, I guess.
Fast forward a few years and Decadent Publishing’s Wiccan Haus series caught my interest. Having already written three shared-world stories for them, I couldn’t resist adding to the series. Someone I met and some rough life experiences gave me the fuel I needed to write a different version of the story. One I had no trouble finishing. It’s finally time to release it!
Turning the Tide: A Siren’s Revenge
Book #25 Wiccan Haus Series Release Date: 19 January 2018
After a year of unemployment, Daphne Wells comes to Wiccan Haus to learn hydrotherapy for a new career as a healer. When her assigned patient turns out to be the sexy ex-boss who laid her off, resentment gets in the way of healing.
Giovanni Denaro arrives at Wiccan Haus, desperate to find a cure for the debilitating tension that threatens his high-level financial career. But after some intimate healing sessions, everything loses value except his need for Daphne’s forgiveness.
When a mermaid, filled with her own bitterness, offers Daphne a chance to get revenge on the man who ruined her life, will she dare to turn the tide?
“I had Myron give me a reading about the stock market. Apparently, it fell a lot today.”
“Hello? It’s been doing that for years.” She raised an eyebrow. “It always rallies, doesn’t it? Are you sure nothing else is bothering you?”
Nothing but the truth. The ugly reality that would turn her gentle eyes into hard pools of hatred. He couldn’t help crying out as the biggest cramp yet squeezed his body. She crouched over him on the stone bench, one leg on either side of him.
After crying out, too, she collapsed on top of him and laid her damp cheek against his. “Tell me what to do for you,” she said in a strangled whisper. “Or I’m calling the guys.”
Having her weight on him made breathing even harder, but feeling her soft skin was worth it.
“Kiss me,” he whispered back.
Her mouth covered his so fast it stole what little breath he’d managed to draw. Her lips were salty with tears. Nothing had ever tasted so good. He drank from her—her love, her healing, her very essence.
She shifted her pelvis, sliding it over his hardening cock. When the indentation in her blue terry cloth shorts contacted the head, he pushed, needing to enter her more than breath.
“I need—” he gasped.
“What?” When she dragged her torso across his chest, he felt her erect nipples through both their shirts. “Anything, Giovanni. I’ll do anything for you.”
Instead of replying with words, he forced his hand down the back of her shorts and gripped the sweet curve of her buttocks. The scent of her arousal mingled with the misty air, impossible to ignore.
“Yes,” she cried, swinging a knee to one side of him and tugging down her shorts.
His groin clenched at the sight of her wet panties. Knowing he’d aroused her so much gave him ten times more power than running a high-level board meeting. With one hand, he pulled up her white tank top so it rested above her breasts. With the other, he helped her out of her shorts and panties.
He’d never grow tired of gazing at the thatch of neatly shaved hair between her legs. It looked as businesslike as the suits she used to wear to work. How often had he fantasized about undressing her when he was her boss? Now he knew how those tantalizing dark hairs felt and tasted slipping across his tongue.
One by one, his muscles eased their tension from pain to anticipation. His cock was so wet with pre-cum when she grasped it, her palm slid to his balls in a single stroke. Although his neck still hurt, he lifted his head to gaze at her rosy nipples and the puckered skin around them. Droplets of mist from the hot water spring jet on their side of the pool dotted her smooth skin, making her resemble a goddess.
“Protection,” he muttered, letting his head drop back to the hard bench with a smack. “We don’t have any.”
“Yes, we do.” With a hand still on his cock, she rummaged in the nearby towel cabinet with the other. “They’re hidden in here.”
She wouldn’t have known exactly where they were unless she’d considered using them with him. More pre-cum pooled on the head of his erection. Finally having her, after years of lusting for her, was more than a fair exchange for missing critical time from work.
Hellbeastly hot for Halloween—and the fact that I have a deep fondness for canines—this was my inspiration for twins, Zol and Zin. They are relentless and ruthless hellhound shapeshifters serving the underworld god, Hades. On the opposite end of the hero spectrum—when in human form—Zin and Zol are the epitome of true, sophisticated gentlemen. Yes, they enjoy the finer things in life.
I admit it, I have a penchant for writing multi-faceted characters, heroes who embrace their fierce alpha side and their romantic-gentleman side. For example, the fictional hero, Tarzan, survived and thrived in the wilds of Africa, yet as Lord John Clayton III, Viscount Greystoke, he successfully negotiated the drawing rooms of Britain. Yep, my kind of hero.
Yes, Halloween is lurking, and this is the season of the witch. Growing up, I adored the TV show “Bewitched”. I mean who wouldn’t? The good and beautiful witch, Samantha, could at the snap of her fingers, the twitch of her nose, clean her entire house. Now that’s impressive, especially to a young girl faced with the drudgery of housework.
Hey, I even learned how to twitch my nose. Although, it was never as good as Elizabeth Montgomery, the wonderful actress who played one of my all-time favorite fictional witches.
In this early sitcom comedy, Samantha performed magical miracles thus saving the day—that is, despite her human husband’s disapproval. Ah Darrin, an okay guy and a sorta loving husband. Yet, even as a kid, I asked myself, was he really good enough for Samantha?
No. He was not. That was my final conclusion.
Over the years—because I’m fascinated with most things paranormal, including the history of witchcraft—I did research on real life witches, on their various Wiccan practices. It all began with the infamous and fabulous Sybil Leek when she wrote her first book, “Diary of a Witch”, published in 1968.
Wiki info: “Sybil Leek was an English witch, astrologer, occult author and self-proclaimed psychic. She wrote many books on occult and esoteric subjects, getting dubbed as ‘Britain’s most famous witch’ by the BBC.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sybil_Leek
Decades later, when I wanted to write a Halloween-themed erotic romance, Kandace appeared in my storyteller’s imagination. Because of her untamed mane of red hair, and her love of Halloween, she’s affectionately called Kandy Apple by friends.
Kandy is a real witch in the sense that she was born with her many witchy talents. She doesn’t know how or why this is true, and few know about her witchiness. This is because Kandace was adopted. Even with her supernatural abilities, she’s never been able to find her bio parents.
As I wrote KANDY APPLE AND HER HELLHOUNDS, I was determined to give her the mates she deserves. Zol and Zin admirably demonstrated their protective ferociousness, as well as their ability to cherish their chosen witch woman.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN READING!
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance
KANDY APPLE AND HER HELLHOUNDS
Kandace doesn’t know why she’s a real witch. Despite her powers, she can’t find her biological parents. When the Tuxedo Twins tempt her with knowledge about her heritage at a charity event, Kandace agrees to dance with the mysterious Supernaturals. Unexpectedly, they are threatened by the omnipresent evil she’s been warned about in her dreams. To keep from being enslaved, Kandace brings forth her greater magick. But, to save her homeworld, she needs her Hellhounds.
Zolivar and Zindale, two of Hades’s most mission-accomplished Hellhounds, see a witch sliding down the bannister after her heist of a painting. Spellbound, they know they’ve found just the right Kandy Apple to lick for Halloween. With every passion, Zin and Zol woo their chosen witch. Will their Triad mate stay once she learns they can’t fall in love like humans? Or will she return to her homeworld?
“Ready to unleash your inner being?” Zol asked his twin. Utterly naked, he pulled off his gold and onyx signet ring, twirled it once on his finger, then slid it inside his tuxedo pants pocket.
Zin stripped off his dress pants and tossed them inside their black sports car, affectionately known as the Twilight Mirage. He shut the door with a neat twist of his wrist. “I’m releasing my inner beast,” he returned with dry amusement.
Standing side by side, they traveled their supernatural gazes over the Mojave Desert’s moonlit landscape. As one, they searched out their target, a corporate hit man. Currently, he followed a prominent woman herbalist. Using biblical herbs, she had recently created a formula that rendered any virus inert.
Since the woman’s products already sold well, several of the flu vaccine companies had decided to go Mafia, eliminating the threat to their profits in the old-fashioned way.
“The only good competition is no competition,” Zol and Zin uttered in unison. On mission, they’d recently infiltrated a Big Pharma company party and heard that phrase spoken several times.
Sighting the hit man, the enemy to humanity that they’d sworn to hunt down and deliver to Hades, Zol and Zin used their internal radar, locking in his position. A second later, their heads swivelled and their fiery gazes connected.
Mirror reflections of each other, their eyes flared simultaneously, flashing to hellfire red. Their features took on a reddish glow, their gazes remaining intensely brilliant.
Growling like thunder in their throats, Zol and Zin morphed into what they were, hellhounds. Their guttural howls ripped through the night and seemed to strike the moon. Luna rode high in the midnight heavens, a glowing Halloween orange and nearly full.
As they gathered their sleek brute bodies, preparing for the chase, horrendous snarls issued from the twin hellhounds. Their coal-black lips curled upwards over their scimitar-like fangs, now dripping with poisonous saliva.
Together they leapt toward their prey. The explosive power of their beast muscles rippled beneath their hairless ebony hides. An impenetrable shield to most weapons and all manner of magic, their hides were composed of alchemically-arranged volcano magma.
Totally driven by the hunt, they raced in perfect concert with each other, their gargantuan paws skimming over the desert floor instead of striking fully. As they ran, Zol and Zin existed in two realms, the world above and the Underworld.
Scarcely aware of what else moved around them, they caught Geraldo’s scent and the smells of his expensively outfitted Jeep. With each giant-bounding stride toward their target, their hellbeast instincts grew.
Since Geraldo’s employers wanted the exact proportions of herbal substances used in Mary Sweetwater’s formula, and were willing to pay him a small fortune, Geraldo had first attempted to gain her trust but failed. He’d also tried ingratiating himself with her family and friends. That hadn’t succeeded, either, despite his vile seduction of her sister.
From their otherworldly vantage point, Zol and Zin had observed Geraldo ignore every divine urging not to continue with his corporate theft, then his murder of Mary. However, the hit man eventually crossed the invisible line and now belonged to their punishing jowls, to their boss, Hades.
Kandace and her hellhounds, Zol and Zin, invite you to read their love story ~
Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered ~ What happens when two of Hades’ most mission-accomplished Hellhounds find just the right witch for Halloween?
Some books take more time to write than others. I’m celebrating the release that took me years to write. We’re talking numerous rounds of edits where I thought I’d never get through the comments. I told myself to just forget it, I have other books to write. But I kept going back to it to write and rewrite the book that I couldn’t let go. Now, many versions and countless rounds of editing later, I am thrilled to announce my new release, When Darkness Whispers.
When Darkness Whispers
Some memories are better left forgotten…
Haunted by an unclear past, biologically enhanced Marine, Eva Montreaux, can’t be distracted from her mission. With American servicemen being brutally murdered on the island of Okinawa, it’s more than priority. It’s critical. But when her investigation brings her face to face with Marcos Delacruz, it triggers memories. Ones she lost. Memories that somehow include him.
Marcos Delacruz has tried to forget the woman who left him with nothing but empty promises. Even now, three years later, Eva doesn’t seem to express any guilt over breaking his heart. In truth, she seems to barely recognize him. This deployment has been challenging enough with too many restless spirits haunting the island. But when his own investigation forces him to cross paths with her once more, Marcos discovers there may be a deeper truth.
With the number of murders climbing rapidly and the rising need to track the murderer across the tropical island, Eva struggles to reclaim what she lost. But the island holds darker elements–a serial killer. One that doesn’t appear to be human.
Thrust into a world she can’t escape, Eva must discover a way to stop a murderer from destroying anyone else’s future, but how can she succeed if she can’t even remember what role Marcos played in her past?
When Darkness Whispers is a paranormal military romance you won’t want to put down! Go undercover with a supernatural team into a world of vampires, gargoyles, shifters, demons, and ghosts. If you like haunting mystery, spine-tingling suspense, and Japanese mythology, you’ll love When Darkness Whispers!
Hi, all! Thanks go to Delilah for allowing me to take over her blog on this Wednesday.
I’m going to talk about my penchant for using unusual supernatural beings in my exciting new release No Ordinary Fairy. I will also give you the opportunity to win an ebook of the novella and an Amazon gift card!
Whenever I set out to write a story I first look around to myth and fairy tales to see what people or elements I could utilize that are a little fresher. I have nothing against vampires and werewolves and do include them in my stories, but I feel like they’ve had their place in the sun. So instead, I look for unusual creatures who don’t normally grace the pages of fiction.
For No Ordinary Fairy, which is a novella setting the stage for a shifter war series I turned to Polish myths and the stories of the Vila/Vilas, who are supposedly deadly…but I think they’re misunderstood. Pani, the heroine of NOF, is one such being. She is just trying to live a quiet life when she encounters Rafe, a gorgeous mountain lion shifter who has lost his ability to shift. Vila are not normally written in paranormal romance, which is one of the things that appealed to me about them. There are so many tales about them: that they are the spirits of women who had died. Alternatively, they have control over the winds, and make the earth shake from the force of their magic. When angered, they will entrance and dance men to death.
Whew! Some kind of fairy, huh? I hope that you enjoy Pani and Rafe as much as I enjoyed writing them. They are the first story in a larger series arc that will take the shifters in this world to the point of war. I will be looking for other unusual and interesting paranormals in the years to come. There are so many! If I could write about them all I would, but I’d need unlimited time. It’s times like these I wish I were one of my immortal Elementals.
Here is a taste of No Ordinary Fairy:
She felt a tug again, a presence to the right, deeper into the woods. There was something else too, a spirit she couldn’t identify. Not a shifter. Pani focused. She could feel shifter birds and foxes scattered around the area, but those weren’t what drew her attention. It felt like a shifter, but not a shifter, and its signature danced on the wind like a blast of cold Arctic air.
“Rafe, do you sense that?”
He looked at her with a dash of gold in his green eyes. For a moment, the cat looked at her, pleading, begging her to release it. He lifted his head and sniffed, so like a cat that she felt the presence of the lion surround her. Her Vila flowed out, the crown of gleaming gemstones beginning to take shape on her head. If she could reach the cat, maybe she could free it.
There was a mournful howl, unearthly and shrill, from somewhere in the distance.
“That’s not a coyote. Or a wolf,” Rafe said. “That sounds almost human, but not like any human I’ve met.”
Using her summoned Vila senses, Pani flowed out toward the sound, but could find no trail to lead her to the noise. It, and the strange sense of malevolence, vanished. She tested the air, trying to capture the feeling of the “other” so she could identify it again. Whatever it was, she didn’t like it.
Rafe growled deep in his throat and she turned back to him.
“Do you have any of your abilities?” she asked, looking up at him to see frustration crawl across his face.
His fists clenched and his body was so tight she thought his muscles might explode.
“I still have better reflexes, and acute senses of smell and hearing. I have enhanced tracking, superior to any human. But I can’t shift. My cat paces around inside me, but he can’t get out.”
He ground his teeth and he slammed one fist into another. He looked over at her with those eyes so like the color of her favorite forest trees.
“I thought you would know where he was. You’re a Vila. You like dogs.” He looked at her for a long minute. “You’re supposed to make men want to follow you anywhere, but you don’t seem to be that dangerous.”
Mocking laughter. Touching. Unwanted hands. The savage compliments that tasted like rage. The chase. The lure. Deep. Deeper. Into the forest. Come, little man, come. Teasing. Dancing. Deeper. Deeper. The forest. The forest. The forest. Screams. Pleas.
Pani looked at him, glad he didn’t have psychic ability, glad that his powers were diminished at the moment. If he hadn’t been stunted, she wondered if he’d be able to smell the past on her, the wrongness of what had happened.
Of what she’d had to do.
Want to win a ebook of No Ordinary Fairy as well as a $10 Amazon gift card? Just leave a comment on my Facebook author page between now and the end of the month, and I will draw one random name as the lucky winner. As always I welcome feedback. If you care to drop me a line either at my website (www.clairedavon.com) or on my Facebook author page.
Thanks again to Delilah for hosting me! I had a blast!
Thank you for hosting me again, Delilah. I always enjoy stopping by your blog. Today, I have a confession for your readers.
I cannot stand silence.
Silence has weight. A crushing pressure that I cannot think through. I need something with a cadence or beat that I can tune out, otherwise, I focus on every creak, drip, or thump my house makes. Whether I’m working or reading, I need something in the background my brain can ignore.
Despite being of the MTV generation, I didn’t see a lot of music videos growing up. My family didn’t have cable and until I was in high school we only had 1 TV in the house controlled by my dad. I listened to the radio with advertising spots every ten minutes or played cassette tapes.
Fortunately, I had an awesome friend who made me artist playlists and themed compilations.
In college, I discovered New Age music. I preferred to work to synthesized ambient and space music over nature sounds. But sometimes I’d go to sleep to a thunderstorm. Other times I’d listen to instrumental soundtracks. The first year of college, all I listened to was the Terminator 2: Judgement Day soundtrack.
When I read, I usually have the TV on. I’m a bit of a TV junkie about drama shows like NCIS and Once Upon a Time. On the weekend, I’ll watch baseball or NASCAR. (Don’t judge, I have two car crazy boys in the house) Just something to have on while I do other things.
Before I start writing a story, one of my first tasks is to complete a playlist. I try to select 20 to 25 songs but it varies depending on the story. I mix classical, new age, soundtrack and pop music based on what I think will fit the story. Sometimes I have specific songs for characters and sometimes the music reminds me of the emotion I want to convey.
This is the playlist for my latest novella, Tethered, which releases Tuesday, February 14, 2017.
I only played The Vengeful One when I channeled my villain. According to my software, I played Radioactive the most. My story takes place in the fall between September and October which explains why a few of the songs have September in the title.
I think of my heroine, Evelyn whenever Something Wild plays. She is a Peregrine falcon shifter who is also an Aquarius. Being in the air, flying, is what she longs for. Riding the currents, living life is her calling.
Are you a Silence person or a background noise person?
Zodiac Shifters: Tethered
Releases Feb. 14, 2017
For over one hundred years, Evelyn Brooks experienced the world through her photography. Now her creativity has deserted her and a stalker drove her from her home. Looking for a new sanctuary, she moved to North Carolina. Exploring the skies of her new home, a bolt of magic knocks her falcon form from the air.
Park ranger Lawke Morgan’s already bad day got worse when his ex-wife dropped off their 13 year old daughter and left for a vacation in London. Dealing with his daughter is nothing compared to discovering magic and shapeshifters exist when a Peregrine falcon he rescued transforms before his eyes. Then his daughter is kidnapped by an Aztec priest after Evelyn.
In exchange for one of Evelyn’s early pictures, located in the small town of Willows Haven, the priest will free Lawke’s daughter. He will do anything to get his daughter back, even break the law. But magic has a way of entangling people together whether they want to be or not. To rescue his daughter, they must confront blood sacrifices, ancient gods and their own inability to trust.
Can a woman used to the freedom of the skies embrace love with a man firmly rooted on the ground?
Evelyn Brooks raced across a purple-tinged sky. Behind her, lightning and thunder clashed within baleful clouds. Her wings dipped in a strong crosswind and plunged her toward the earth. Muscling through the gale, she climbed into a less turbulent current. She’d never make Raleigh before getting soaked, despite the speed her Peregrine form achieved.
A ferocious roar drowned out the whistle of the wind. The upward flap of her wings faltered, and her blood chilled. Turning into a different current, she glimpsed the silhouette of an enormous beast against the storm’s clouds.
Below her, the treetops of a deciduous forest with red-kissed leaves due to an early frost stood sentry. She took shelter within the branches of an oak tree.
The whoosh of wings induced Evelyn to shrink against the tree trunk and dig her talons into the bark as the limbs swayed. A strong crosswind contorted the tree further. Another roar challenged the incoming storm’s might and silenced the nighttime creatures.
Twisting her head, she glanced through the foliage into the cloud-filled sky. A dark shadow moved against the dark gray backdrop. Gigantic wings lifted a massive creature high into the sky.
Hunted until extinct, dragons had been stripped of their scales and blood, their magic forever lost to the supernatural communities. For eons they’d guarded and sheltered those seeking wisdom or healing until humans, who couldn’t control their desires, rampaged across the earth and destroyed all the sanctuaries.
Apparently, the purge hadn’t destroyed them all, and the approaching storm had disturbed this one’s slumber.
Moving to the East Coast was supposed to keep Evelyn safe. Free her of the disturbing sense that someone watched her. Maybe stimulate her creativity and spark a burst of artistry. Instead, she was denied the escape of flight and forced to hide.