Oct 012014
Venice always delivered. For thousands of years she spread out her

bounty for swarms of people who feasted upon her beauty. They stayed in ornate

palaces or luxury hotels and paraded in stylish fashions. They admired diverse art,

listened to sweet music, sampled delicious food.

They also enjoyed plentiful romantic opportunities.

Ah, the romantic allure of Venice. It continues to this day. Indeed, soon after

Barbara’s arrival, Venice offered her no less than three handsome men. Now there

stood her sister, Louisa, who begged to hear the dirt on two of them but knew

nothing of the third man, the one Barbara wanted most. She planned to keep him

a secret.

Barbara looked around and tried to take it all in, all that Venice had to offer.

She saw in front of her a small island, which sat placidly in the lagoon and proudly

displayed its huge monastic bell tower. Although a massive presence, this tower

was easily dwarfed by the one it faced — the more famous one — the one that

housed the bells of San Marco. She gazed across the water, let the reflecting sun’s

rays warm her face and both Venetian towers began to toll their bells behind her

and before her. They echoed across the lagoon, reverberated throughout the

tranquil setting. Barbara took note of the bells. She’d been trained by her Italian

friends to pay particular attention to what she’d been the thinking in that precise

moment these bells began to chime.

She’d been thinking about secrets. That third man. He must remain her

Thus began her diversion, a long philosophical theory about her twin orange

“Back home in Seattle,” she said, “my cats confuse and distract me during

morning meditation, just like those two Venetian men did my first night in Venice.

The two inquisitive cats circle my cushion then jump on the table where I offer

blessings of flowers and candy. They sniff and inspect as if they’ve never seen the

ritual before.”

Louisa yawned.

“Those cats seem to see me anew each day, as a thing they need to

supervise, approve or inspect. Eventually, they settle nearby to meditate on their

own. They observe my struggle to quiet my mind while they remain perfect little

meditators. Those two Venetian men were the same. While I was nervous and

disquieted, they just purred.”

Louisa frowned.


Happens In Venice
ISBN-13: 978-1500334529
ISBN-10: 1500334529 
LCCN: 2014911793       
Number of pages: 160
Word Count: 40,000
As Interpol expert Louisa
Mangotti is learning, ghosts watch over Venice. Can she trust them—or her
ex-lover—when spirits offer confusing clues to solve a double murder in this
sexy paranormal mystery?
Lagoon Lure resumes the story of
Interpol expert Louisa Mangotti’s Venetian exploits and the paranormal assisted
murder investigation she began in Love Spirits.
Still unnerved by the notion that
Venetian ghosts are real, Louisa delves further into the deaths of two
glassmakers while juggling the lustful manipulations of her ex-lover, Matteo,
whose role in the murders grows murkier.
Meanwhile Louisa’s usually shy
sister, Barbara, explores her newfound sexuality with Venice’s willing men,
sharing her adventures with her sister but keeping one particularly mysterious
man a secret.
When Louisa’s best friend,
“Rouge,” arrives for Carnival to sample its masked men, she
complicates the situation further by encouraging the sisters to embrace the
pleasures of Venice.
Paranormal clues and apparitions
lead Louisa deeper into the lagoon and she is forced to reluctantly enlist
Matteo’s support. Can she trust him, or will this ghostly lagoon lure prove
Cover Copy:
Venice has its ghosts. They haunt
its byways and canals. They linger on its numerous bridges and waft through its
beautiful architecture—and they’ve taken a definite interest in Interpol expert
Louisa Mangotti.
In Lagoon Lure, Louisa continues
investigating the murder of two glassmakers she began in Love Spirits. Guided
by clues sent from otherworldly sources, she struggles to determine what role
her seductive ex-lover Matteo played in the deaths, constantly tempted by his
handsome looks, his charm, and the volatile chemistry between them.
While Louisa is led by the ghosts
to a sunken ship in the murky lagoon, her sister, Barbara, and best friend,
“Rouge,” embark on their own carnal explorations of Venice, sampling
the men who flock to Carnival.


Amid corruption, conspiracy, and
Venice’s legendary sexual energy, it’s all Louisa can do to think straight, let
alone untangle this web of mystery. The ghosts, however, want her to persevere.

Love Spirits
What Happens In Venice
Book One
Diana Cachey
Genre: Romance/paranormal.
ISBN: 1481031767
ISBN: 9781481031769
Number of pages: 160
Word Count: 40,000 
Tagline: Among the romantic canals of Venice—and oh so many Italian distractions—can a stunning American lawyer and her psychic sister help the Ghosts of Venice solve a hushed-up crime?
Book Description:
Louisa Mangotti is a gorgeous American lawyer and Interpol expert who, after being offered a job working with the international crime unit in Venice, receives a mysterious postcard from the Venetian Ghosts, the ancient protectors of the Republic. But Louisa assumes her bad-boy ex, Matteo, sent it in a quixotic attempt to gain her attention.  Louisa may have dismissed the ghosts, but the ghosts aren’t quite done with her.
When the bodies of two glassmakers wash up on Murano Island, the cryptic messages persist. Reluctantly, Louisa calls upon Matteo to help decipher the clues. And before she knows it, a flame that was never fully extinguished is rekindled.  Sensing that her sister is in over her head, Barbara Mangotti rushes to the rescue, only to be lured away by two handsome Venetian men.  
With time running out, can the two beauties solve a crime that could threaten the city of Venice itself?

Available at Createspace

About the Author:
Diana Cachey is a licensed attorney, published academic, and former adjunct law professor. She also holds a BA in English, and while in law school, she was the first female editor-in-chief of her university’s law review.

The author of the novels Love Spirits and Lagoon Lure, Cachey trained with several New York Times best-selling writers whose sales total more than 70 million books. She has built a social media platform with over one hundred thousand Twitter users, and her popular YouTube channel featuring secret Venice locations has received over five hundred thousand views.

For more than a decade, Cachey has traveled to Venice, the setting of her novels, on extended trips several times a year. The cafés, restaurants, and many other haunts of Venice play a prominent role in her sexy paranormal mystery-romance series about a beautiful American lawyer guided by the Ghosts of Venice in the investigation of a hushed-up crime.


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Oct 012014

Anthony swung up in bed. What had woken him? Had his alarm gone off? There was a ringing

noise. He turned to his left and made a grab for the phone next to his bed.

“Anthony Hollownton.”

That was as polite as they were getting for the middle of the night. If they had a problem with that

they could deal with it. He looked at his alarm clock, five am. That meant barely more than two hours of

sleep. Why would someone call him at five am?

There was a pause on the other end.

“Hello.” He repeated. He felt himself freeze.

He could hear talking on the other end. He silently pleaded that it wasn’t the same woman from

earlier. He was just frustrated enough to trace the call and chew her out. He heard a male voice come on

to the other end and Anthony exhaled, forcing his muscles to relax one by one. He had to get sleep; he

was jumping to ridiculous conclusions.

“Hey Tony, sorry to call so early man, but I gotta ask you a question.” It was his partner. The tone

in the man’s voice sounded serious but genuinely upset about saying whatever it was he was about to say.

Tony felt himself tense again, what if something was wrong with Amanda or the baby? “What

is it Rick?” Tony tried to sound neutral.

When he heard his partner sigh he relaxed again feeling more tired than before.

“Look man, I don’t believe it but Amanda asked me to so I’m doing it.”

Tony screamed in his head. He wanted to get back to sleep. “Get to the point Nelson. I want to go

back to bed.”

The use of the last name was usually reserved for when they were working. It showed Rick he

meant business and told him to get to the point.

“As you know the land line is on Amanda’s side of the bed and she has picked up three phone

calls since we went to bed she says it was a woman who laughs and hangs up. After the third time

Amanda called *69 and the number is yours, your land line anyway. I wasn’t sure at first since you don’t

really use it. But when I double checked in my cell, the numbers matched. I told her it was crazy, since

you never have women over. I told her that outside of her and other cops you don’t even know any

women, no offence, but she’s making me call anyway to make sure.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. Now he was wide-awake. He must have been silent too long because his

partner’s voice came on with a worried tone.

“Hey Tony, you still there?”

Tony flicked on his bedroom light and scanned the room, empty. “Yeah man, I’m here, just

shocked. I don’t have anyone here and I’ve been asleep. You know it could be some prank caller who

knows how to reroute numbers or something.”

Tony debated telling his partner about the call at work but quickly dismissed it. With a wife and a

four-month-old daughter Rick had enough on his plate.

“Yeah, I figured as much. I was just calling to make sure. Sorry for waking you up man. I hope

you can get back to sleep.”

Tony nodded. So did he. “Yeah, good night Rick.”

He heard his partner say something to his wife. “Good night Tony, See you tomorrow, I mean


As he hung up the phone Tony looked about his room. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

Against the wall at the foot of his bed was his 42′ TV. To the left of the bed was the closet, which was

still open from when he put away his work clothes, no one was in there. To the right of the TV was the

door out into the rest of the apartment, still closed. Everything on the nightstand was still where he left it.

Turning, he looked at the window above the bed, still locked. He turned back reaching into the top drawer

of his nightstand and pulled out his gun and got out of bed. If there was anyone in his apartment he was

going to find them.

Hollownton Homicide
Anthony Hollownton
Book 1
Gretchen S. B.
Genre: Urban Fantasy / Mystery
ISBN: 978-1495499463
Number of pages: 258
Word Count: 82,628
Cover Artist: Talina Perkins
Book Description:
Homicide detective Anthony Hollownton thought he had seen it all until he and his partner, Rick Nelson, are called to a murder scene unlike any Tony has come across. There are no witnesses and none of the neighbors heard a thing.
Once Tony starts to investigate the facts of the case become stranger and stranger.
As the body count rises Tony is drawn into a world he did not know existed.
Starting with a visit from a dead woman from his past.
He must decide whether the paranormal truly exists or if these killing are some kind of delusional gang war.
About the Author:
Gretchen happily lives in Seattle, Washington where she spends her time creating new characters and situations to put them in. She also enjoys cheering on her local sports teams, even though it sometimes seems they are allergic to winning (Except the Super Bowl!).
She graduated from Central Washington University with a BA in History and a BA in Philosophy. She loves that Washington provides a large range of activities, from Shakespeare in the park to rodeos. At the end of her adventures she unwinds by curling up on the couch, knitting while catching up TV shows via Netflix.

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Oct 012014
I’ve been playing with mixed media lately. It’s fun to create something more solid

than a story. Here’s my MCs from book one of Alien Attachments.

It’s a shell I found on the beach here in Florida. I used two layers of resin, the first

dyed blue. I then glued sand around the waters edge and finally added my main

characters. They’re N scale people forever sealed in resin.

Dani and Ian on Cat Island, Bahamas.


Alien Attachments
Book One
Sabine Priestley
Genre: Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: Lyrical Press an imprint of Kensington Books
Date of Publication: Aug 18th, 2014
ISBN:  9781616505660
Word Count: 73K
Cover Artist: Renee Rocco
Book Description:
Finding one’s psi-mate is something every Sandarian hopes for, but when Ian Cavacent accidentally starts the bonding process with the Earthling, Dani, he has to fight his desire with every ounce of his being. If the process is completed, it would be both political and financial suicide for Ian and his family.
A natural klutz, Dani somehow always manages to land on her feet and win those mixed martial arts matches she’s so fond of. At home on Cat Island her balance is thrown when bazillionaire Ian takes notice.
Unfortunately some butt-ugly Torog aliens also take notice sending her life spiraling out of control and into Ian’s arms. But Dani isn’t the type of woman to let some alien voodoo decide her future or her mate…no matter how gorgeous the man is or how much pleasure he gives her.
For centuries the Cavacents have mined Earth for a precious element, carnium, while protecting the planet from other alien species.
Thanks to the Torogs, Dani and Ian must flee to Sandaria. As Dani learns to use her newfound psi powers, the empire crumbles around them.
Will their love be strong enough to keep them alive and get them back to Earth?


Available at Amazon BN Kensington Kobo Google Play iBooks


About the Author:
Geek. Mother of teens. Wife to her very own alien.
Lover of sun, sand, science, and the stars.
Sabine lives in Florida with her husband, kids, cats and whole mess of characters in her head.

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Oct 012014


He flashed into her bedroom, materializing on the edge of her bed in a casual, observer’s pose, one leg crossed over the opposite knee. He would watch her undress, just to remind her who was in charge.

Sasha had her back to him, her shirt off, revealing the ropy muscles of her slender back. She unbuttoned her pants and shucked them, tossing them in the hamper. She had simple gray cotton panties on, but they couldn’t look more erotic to him, clinging to her muscular ass, showing enough cheek to thicken his cock.

She turned and shrieked when she saw him, clutching her pajama top to her chest. “W-what are you doing here?”

He gave a lazy shrug. “Watching the show.” He expected fury. He craved it, really.

Instead she stood stock still, and rubbed her lips together, her breastbone lifting and lowering at a rapid pace. Oh Lord. She was turned on. “Get out,” she said, but her voice held no conviction. She might have said, “Take me to bed.”

“You don’t need to put that on,” he said, indicating the pajama top. “I don’t mind sleeping with you that way.”

“You…” she spat. “You aren’t sleeping with me.” She blinked at him. “I don’t want you in here,” she said petulantly.

“Your scent tells me differently.”

She snapped her eyes to his. “What?”

“Admit it, Sasha. Your naughty parts are tingling right now.”

A flush spread across her cheeks and down her neck. “What do you want from me?” she demanded.

“Come here,” he said softly, holding his breath. Her feet began to move and he celebrated the tiny victory. When she drew close enough, he snatched her top from her hands, dropping it on the floor.

She jerked in surprise and covered her breasts with her forearms.

He gripped her wrists and pulled her arms away from her chest, pinning them down by her sides. “You have a lovely pair of breasts,” he said, his fangs lengthening.

He smelled the fresh bloom of her arousal and wondered if it came from his words, the physical restraint or the sight of his fangs growing long for her.

“Please,” she managed to say, her voice cracking.

He lifted his eyes from his study of her breasts to her face.

“Please, Charlie…”

He tugged her closer. “Please what?”

“Please don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Please let me go.”

“I like it when you beg,” he said softly.

The scent of desire grew stronger. “Please.”

He released her wrists and yanked her panties to her knees. “Go stand in the corner with your hands clasped above your head.”

Her thighs twitched together, and he watched in fascination as a droplet of moisture trickled onto her thigh.

He brought his hand across her ass with a sharp slap, making her jump. “Now, Sasha,” he ordered. He had no idea if she would obey. If she did, it would be out of desire, rather than fear.

When she shuffled to the corner, with her panties around her knees and stood there, interlacing her fingers over her head, his cock throbbed. She wanted him. Or rather, she wanted this.

He made an approving rumble in his throat. He traced behind her and ran his palm over her ass. Then he smacked her hard on one cheek.


He slapped the other cheek. She shivered, her breath short.

“You like being spanked by me,” he observed.

She dropped her arms and tried to whirl around, but he caught her wrists and pinned them against the wall with one hand.

He delivered another stinging slap to each cheek, then began to pick up tempo, until she danced under the steady barrage of slaps raining down. He sensed her willingness to endure the pain waning and he stopped, rubbing her heated flesh. “You look good in pink,” he said.

“Why,” she panted, “why do you do this?”

He softened his touch, making it more like a caress now, soothing the sting away. “To teach you to obey.” She stiffened, but he pressed his body against hers and murmured in her ear. “You surrendered to me. Why?”

“You made me,” she said through clenched teeth.

“No, Sasha,” he breathed in her ear. “I think you were curious. You want to know what happens next, don’t you?” When she didn’t answer, he repeated the question, with a sharper tone. “Don’t you?”

She still didn’t answer.

He slapped her ass.

“Yes,” she gasped.

Her admission flooded his chest with the warmth of success. He caressed her backside, his fingers trailing up her inner thighs. She stiffened in shock when they brushed her swollen sex. She clamped her legs together as if to keep him out.

“Come, Sasha. You and I both know you aren’t serious about that.”

Loose Morals

Darling Adams
Genre:  paranormal erotic (BDSM)
Publisher:  Baronet Press
Date of Publication:  Oct. 1, 2014
Number of pages:  140
Word Count:   approx 40K
Cover Artist:  Craig Patton
Book Description:  Blurb:
When Sasha Deschamps unwittingly attracts the attention of a strange man on her late night walk home from work, she winds up with a supernatural guest she can’t get rid of. The dominant immortal demands her complete submission and cooperation, refusing to free her until she has performed an act of magick, one which she does not know how to even begin.
Charlie sees the power in Sasha and believes she has the ability to undo the curse placed on him by a jealous lover over one hundred years before. He also loves toying with the feisty witchling, doling out humiliating punishments while arousing a lust in her that leaves them both hungry for satisfaction.
Emotionally detached to the point of amorality, his motto has been “friendly with many, close to none”, but he finds himself falling for Sasha, believing he might be able to trust a woman again. When he discovers she is actually the reincarnated witch who cursed him, though, his world turns on end. Can he believe she has returned to his life to heal the rift between them? Or will he walk away from her again, as he did so many years ago?
Publishers Note: This book contains elements of BDSM including spanking, bondage and erotic sex scenes.

Available at Amazon  Amazon UK


About the Author: 
Darling Adams is a naughty author who loves writing about hot alpha males, Dominance, submission and power exchanges.
She also writes spanking romance under the name Renee Rose.
If you enjoyed this book, please consider posting  a review.
Connect with the author online:
Sep 302014

The sound of wings flapping had my undivided attention; I stopped and held my breath trying to locate the direction it was coming from. The moment I honed in on the area the bird had been I wished I hadn’t. Here I was half way to the middle of the clearing in snow up past my knees and coming out of the trees roughly thirty feet from me were two very rough, huge men. I had twenty seconds grace before they spotted me, just enough time to turn in the snow and take the first step in what would likely end up being the most difficult run of my life.  Running in snow this deep was like running through water. If your feet didn’t clear it you got nowhere. I hadn’t stopped long enough to measure the height of the men quickly gaining on me, but I was fairly certain their long legs would As I hit the tree line again, I hesitated long enough to pick a direction. Kismet and I had been through this area enough times I knew most of it without thinking now. Slipping in the snow I changed directions and headed towards the hill that led to the river bed. If I could out-maneuver them in the densest part of the trees I might just be able to put a big enough gap between us that they’d give up.Chancing a glance over my shoulder I noted one thing. They were large enough it would take four of me to make this anywhere near equal. My heart was thrumming, pumping blood through my veins in a chaotic beat. A part of me knew I couldn’t outrun them, but I had to try. Turning, I bolted back towards a tight grouping of trees. I could hear the pounding of their feet hitting the ground behind me and had one second to regret the one time I didn’t let Kismet come with me. He One of them was close enough I could hear his heavy breathing over my own as I dodged between two trees I knew he wouldn’t be able to go through. My coat was actually slowing me down, but it held the knife and gun and there was no way I was dropping either of those right now. I heard him curse behind me and knew I only had seconds before he would have me. Ducking left, I stopped and spun around at the same time. My knife was now in my hand held down against my side as I gasped to settle my breathing. He stood a foot away from me and looked really pissed with the fact that I had made him run after me.  I wanted to look around for the other one, but didn’t dare take my eyes off of him. A familiar flick sound brought my attention to his hand to see a blade slide smoothly from the handle it had been folded into. There was nothing I could say that was going to change this man’s plans. His eyes were wide and bored into mine with a look of craziness. A branch snapping behind me was the only warning I got before a big arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back into a hard chest.  They spoke to each other and it wasn’t in any language I understood, then again I only knew English. The tone the man in front of me used and the sudden smirk on his face told me I was in deep shit. There was no way, no how this was happening to me. I refused to be a victim. The one behind me tightened his hold, making breathing hard. He rubbed his face against my neck making my skin crawl. The other one waved the knife in front of me a few times and then used it to push open my coat. He grinned and said something to the one that was breathing on my The adrenaline was pumping so fast through my body I didn’t know how I was able to not vibrate. Now or never! Lowering my head, I relaxed my body as much as I could. Taking a deep breath, I threw my head back and brought my hand with the knife up at the same time, aiming for the arm around me. The loud crack and sudden pain in my head told me I’d connected hard with the face behind me. He cursed and let me go just as the other one lunged towards me. I felt the sting across my cheek as I brought the knife down and across his chest.

After the Silence – Bree
Part 4
Jacqueline Paige
One woman’s journey through the chaotic new world.
Those left standing make the paths for the future generations.
Those the planet allowed to live still have to survive the trials of the virus. If you manage to come out of it alive you are left with some form of mutation that could give you an ability that could be harmless or lethal.
Bree Taylor is the last survivor of her family. With no other choice she sets off on her own to escape the clutches of the new government’s army—that does not place safety and security in their code of behavior only the highest bidder get their protection and loyalty.
 The entire volume 1 will be released as one book in January 2015.
First part of volume 2 (Kane’s story) is TBR in November 2014


After the Silence – Bree 
Part 3
Jacqueline Paige 
After the Silence – Bree 
Part 2
Jacqueline Paige 
After the Silence – Bree 
Part 1
Jacqueline Paige 
About the Author:
Jacqueline Paige lives in Ontario in a small town that’s part of the popular Georgian Triangle area.  No one has ever heard of Stayner, so she usually tells people she lives “near Collingwood” and no, she doesn’t ski at Blue Mountain or at all, in fact she’s not even fond of snow. 
She began her writing career in 2006 and since her first published works in 2009 she hasn’t stopped.  Jacqueline describes her writing as “all things paranormal”, which she has proven is her niche with stories of witches, ghosts, physics and shifters now on the shelves.
When Jacqueline isn’t working at her ‘reality job’ or lost in her writing she spends time with her five children, most of whom are finally able to look after her instead of the other way around.  Together they do random road trips, that usually end up with them lost,  shopping trips where they push every button in the toy aisle, hiking when there’s enough time to escape and bizarre things like creating new daring recipes in the kitchen. She’s a grandmother to four (so far) and looks forward to corrupting many more in the years to come.
Jacqueline loves to hear from her readers, you can find her at www.jacqpaige.webs.com , www.jacqpaige.blogspot.ca  or http://magicseasonsbooks.blogspot.ca
Sep 302014



Ambar Lenn – Fate’s Journey

Alone in the dark, Aust sat at the bottom of the grand staircase of Jade’s manse, staring

at the cryptic words mounted on the foyer wall. Translated by the Centaur, Chiron of Deleran,

the Queen Oracles’ prophesy hung opposite the double entrance doors. Aust’s Elven brothers and

warrior friends boasted thoughts and theories as to its meaning, but theories they remained. And

on nights when reverie evaded him—which occurred more oft than not—he sat within the silent

stone walls of Jade’s new home and tried to glean the prophesy’s meaning:

Journey of Fate, two realms to purge

Weapons drawn against the Scourge

Blaze of passion,

Trust unearthed,

Cleansing of past,

Spirit rebirthed,

Fate or free-will, which to choose?

With love to gain and life to lose.

Darkness hides in familiar form

A brother’s betrayal, a sister’s storm

Empower lost souls or evil shall reign

Noble the child of argenteous mane

Journey of Fate—the first line referred to their Ambar Lenn, everyone agreed on that

point. Four fortnights past, the inception of his, Galan’s and Thamior’s journey to manhood had

triggered unforeseen events. On that night—the night the exile of his people was lifted—the

three of them had set off from the Highborne village to find their path.

Aust had yet to find anything . . . save grief.

His Eda had been slain, his Naneth left heart-weary, and his people so offended by his

goddess-given affinity to communicate with his animal brothers and sisters, they cast him out.

Galan fared well enough, and for at least that much, he rejoiced. Jade was a remarkable

female, and to have Recognized with his mate . . . there was no greater blessing. Together,

partners in life and purpose, the two now served Castian as Protectors of the Realm of the Fair.

Thamior’s journey? Well . . . Tham remained Tham e’ermore. Aust marveled at the

strength of spirit the male possessed, his love and wonder of all things, the simple joy he found

in living free within the Realm of the Fair. Tham had yet to make any progress in his journey, yet

paid it no mind.

Weapons drawn against the Scourge—Aust was more than ready to take up arms against

the enemy of the realm. He yearned to prove his value, burned to avenge his dead. There were

moments, the fury boiled so white-hot in his blood, he almost drowned in the lure of vengeance

and pain. He quelled those impulses as best he could.

For the choices made to navigate the journey of the Ambar Lenn would determine if he

could ever be thought of as a male of worth. And so he pushed back the anguish and the anger

and waited . . . .


Ursa Unearthed
Scourge Survivor Series
Book 2
JL Madore
Genre: Fantasy Romance
ISBN: 978-0-9916763-2-3
Number of pages: 340
Word Count: 100,000
Cover Artist: David Wysotski
Book Description:
Mika’s life has never been normal, but it’s hers.
After being told by the Great Spirit to stand up for the Earth Mother’s children and “save the great species from extinction,” she buries herself in an investigative journalism career hunting down poachers and exposing illegal trade in wildlife exotics. A survivor by nature, she would rather fight injustice than maneuver the hassles and heartache of relationships anyway.
When danger suddenly finds her unprepared, Mika’s perception of her life is shattered and she is hurled into a realm of magic and murder she does not understand. Seduced by Bruin, the powerful and sexy warrior who saves her life, Mika is catapulted into a world where Were-creatures and Scourge assassins threaten not only her life but her heart as well.
With the boundary between worlds crumbling, Mika realizes that her destiny to save the great species will draw her deeper into a reality more terrifying to her than anything she has faced before.
Trusting in love.


Available at Amazon
About the Author:
JL Madore, lover of family, animals and chocolate has a soft spot for romance and a hot button for sexy stories. She didn’t find writing so much as it found her. Waking each morning with a vivid cast of characters tangled in chaos in her head, it seemed essential to capture them on the page.
Author web links: www.jlmadore.ca



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Sep 262014

Stomach churning, a sour taste in her mouth, Dennah hovered above the

massacre from her nest in the ash tree she’d climbed at the edge of the forest.

Guilt twisted a knot in her belly as she remembered Mamen’s order to flee,

but she couldn’t leave; she might be needed. So she’d climbed the tallest leafiest

tree she could quickly find, its branches extending almost to the roof of their

cottage. She fastened the leather bracer on her left forearm, finger guards on her

drawing hand, in case she was forced to shoot the ash bow. After stringing it, she

set it and the bag of arrows in the cradle of two limbs a little above her and out of

easy reach so she wouldn’t be tempted to fire down upon the invaders.

From her perch she saw the soldiers enter the shtetl, thundering over the

ramparts as if they were fagots; they crushed the golden fields of barley, and

wheat, forcing the defenders to give way or be trampled beneath hammering

hooves. Seeing the guardsmen attack the horses to unseat the soldiers, her heart

raced. Get them! What right have they to attack our home?! Anger boiled just

under her skin. Her gaze sharpened and the branch grew warm beneath the grip of

her fingers. Though there was no breeze, the limbs of her tree swayed gently.

Almost without thought, as if her hands had a will of their own, she pulled

bow and quiver within reach and nocked an arrow. With precise aim, she inhaled,

drawing the cord back, hearing the soft familiar creak as it stretched. She released

on the exhale. Gracefully, the arrow sped toward its target, a soldier who’d edged

up behind Marek and raised his sword. The shaft caught him in the throat, sunk

deep and broke through the skin at the back of his neck. He fell with a thud, blood

mixing with fertile ground in a muddy pool beneath him. Relieved of its burden,

the soldier’s horse veered away from the melee.

Marek, eyes narrowing, seemed to find her hidden in the ash. He nodded

slightly and turned to face another foe. A surge of pleasure warmed her at his

wordless approval. Then there was no more time for thought; only action. Again

and again her arrows flew true; but she was careful to watch for enemy soldiers

looking in her direction. Her stomach dropped when she saw first Yuri, then

Selwyn, and finally Yakkov surrounded and disarmed. A quick inventory of her

quiver yielded only four arrows. Not enough to free the guardsmen. I’m sorry.


Serpent on a Cross       
Book One
Wendy C. Garfinkle
Genre:  Medieval Fantasy/ Jewish Fantasy
Publisher:  Booktrope Publishing
Date of Publication:   September 2, 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62015-507-3

ISBN: 978-1-62015-523-3

Number of pages:  176
Cover Artist:  Loretta Matson
Book Description: 
Dennah Dubrovnika is a formidable hunter and talented healer. However, she cannot control her own powers, which have suddenly reawakened in the aftermath of her mother’s violent capture by a powerful warlord who destroyed their village in his wake. As she races to free her mother, Dennah is accompanied by Jeth, the man she loves. But she’s increasingly, inexorably drawn to the mysterious Skallon who is allied with her greatest enemy.
Will Dennah be able to gain a measure of control over her magic or will she lose everything and everyone she loves to its raging inferno?
Serpent on a Cross is Book One in a Jewish fantasy adventure series set in Medieval Eastern Europe.

Available at Amazon and BN
About the Author:
Wendy C. Garfinkle was born and raised in South Florida. She moved to Northwest Texas in her early 20s, but returned to South Florida eight years later. She holds five degrees, including MA and MFA in Creative Writing from Wilkes University. She’s a poet, reading addict, and collector of interesting clothing tags, which she recycles into bookmarks.
She has served as a copy editor and reader for Hippocampus Magazine, an online nonfiction lit journal, and as a reader for the James Jones First Novel Fellowship. Wendy is a crime analyst for a local law enforcement agency, and lives with her teenage son.


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Sep 262014


The Unit Series
Book Two
Sarah Greyson
Genre: Military Erotic Romantic Suspense
Publisher: Sarah G. Greyson LLC
Date of Publication: 9-26-14
ISBN: 978-0-9904123-5-9
Number of pages: 278
Word Count: 67148
Cover Artist: Cover Me Darling
Book Description:
They always wanted to fix him. Didn’t they realize there was no fixing his kind of broke?
Haunted by the loss of his beloved fiancée a year and a half ago at the hands of a terrorist cell, ex-Green Beret Rob Fabik doesn’t know how to let go. The sounds and sights of her death replay in his mind, and he tortures himself with the guilt he feels over not being able to save her life, distracting himself with alcohol and women.
Attending Harvard University, Lola Sardeson is a down-to-earth, rich girl who is tired of living under her father’s thumb. One night out with friends quickly turns into a nightmare as she is kidnapped from a busy Boston nightclub. Her nightmare intensifies as she learns that the Ortiz Cartel sells young, innocent girls into the sex-slave trade.
The Unit’s mission is to rescue Lola from the nefarious clutches of the Ortiz Cartel. From the instant Rob sees Lola, she touches something deep inside him, drawing out his protective nature. These feelings only serve to intensify the guilt he feels over losing his dead fiancée.
Forced by circumstance under the same roof, Lola inspires Rob to grow stronger. Can he suppress his feelings for Lola, or will guilt consume him alive? Can he forgive himself for not saving his fiancée? Can Rob save Lola and protect her from the greedy hands of the Ortiz Cartel?


Available at Amazon


About the Author:
Sarah Greyson is an Amazon Best Selling author.  She lives in Virginia with her husband, two children, and four spoiled animals. She earned her Bachelor’s Degree in Communications with a concentration in Professional Writing and her Master’s Degree in Education.
When she is not writing or spending time with her family, she loves reading sizzling romantic suspense novels that make her blush. She loves a glass of pinot grigio, back-yard barbecues with friends and family, and helping her kids with their homework (in that order).
Her interests span all genres: from Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger to Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury to Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen to Slave by Shari Hayes to The Art of Happiness by Dalai Lama XIV. Sarah’s favorite genres are contemporary romantic suspense and erotic suspense; the types of novels she crafts. While the concepts are familiar and comfortable, she brings her own unique story and personality to everything she writes. She loves the feeling of crafting a spicy, action-packed novel. Writing is her passion. She wants to leave her readers breathless after experiencing the intense ride that is her novel.


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Sep 242014

Chapter 1: Bite, anyone?

“Vampires don’t lose their souls after turning. That folklore is easy to disprove without

venturing into religious debate. In the days of medieval medicine, doctors wouldn’t have

known how to find or identify the vampiric parasite.”

Journal Entry, Mark McDougal: April 3, 2005

I stalked a woman through side streets and dimly lit alleyways. Her name wasn’t important. I

preferred not to know what to call the victims just like I don’t want to know a rabid dog’s name. It’s easier

to stay unattached that way. Easier to do my job.

Keeping up with the vampire in the making wasn’t hard. She meandered. The problem was the

heat wave and the black trench coat I wore. Noticing it, a few people shook their heads as I passed. They

probably thought I was a little crazy, but harmless. Without it, people would call the cops when they

spotted my gear.

A bead of sweat slid from my hairline behind my ear, tickling my skin and irritating me. I

brushed it away, my fingers momentarily tangled in my frizzy locks, the strands I was chewing on yanked

out of my mouth. Once again, I considered shaving the mop I called hair. It wasn’t the lovely auburn

tresses that men fantasize about. Mom used to call the orange-red jarring. I’d been told that my hair made

me too memorable. Maybe that was so, but it took attention away from the scar that ran from my top lip

to my temple. Besides, if I hacked it all away, I wouldn’t have anything handy to gnaw on. I snagged a

new small curl and pulled it to my mouth. Mom used to bat my hand away. Now, there was no one to stop


Half a block behind the woman, she set the meandering pace. Normally, I’d keep more distance

between us. I’d be concerned about the still air making me into an olfactory billboard. I could almost

hear Uncle Mark’s voice in my head. “Kassy, the new ones can smell you even if they don’t know what

they’re smelling. Keep your distance.” Tonight, this woman was blinded by her hunger. I could have hung

back farther, but I didn’t see the point.

Around a corner, garbage cans lined the street. Good for hiding behind; bad for breathing. The

muggy weather made the smells more pungent. Who was I to complain? The odor would mask my scent.

The sound of a group of people chatting and laughing echoed down the street. We’d passed a club

two blocks back with bass so loud my chest vibrated. By the group’s outfits, I guessed they were heading

there to dance. The woman I followed turned her head as they strode by. Her right hand reached over and

unconsciously rubbed her left shoulder. The shoulder some psycho had bitten three weeks before. It had

healed quickly. Miraculously fast according to doctors.

One of the guys stumbled over a trashcan, knocking my prey against the side of a brick building.

She inhaled deeply as he apologized. He and his companions watched their step to avoid the trail of refuse

he’d strewn. No one noticed her wrapping her arms around herself, her steps following them, or her

abrupt turn into the alleyway. No one but me.

Wisps of steam from storm drain vents filled the narrow passage with an eerie aura. The dim

lights reflected off the suspended water, creating a halo around the vampire’s head. The irony wasn’t lost

on me. One could argue that she retained her innocence – for now.

I slipped behind a commercial dumpster filled with decaying Italian food and spotted a large box

farther on that would be my next hiding spot. Before I moved, she stopped in the middle of the alleyway

about thirty feet away. She squeezed her head between her hands. I sucked in a quick lung full of rancid

air and waited. She paced, kicking bottles, cans and other debris in her path. She walked over to a wall,

rested her head against it, and then hit a few times with her palms. I could almost see the cracks forming

in her self-control.

She stopped, sniffing the air.

Busted. The billy club strapped to my right thigh reassured me and I brushed my fingers along

its length to find the handle. Muscles taut, I waited for her to draw near. I still had the element of surprise

and she had no clue what she could do.

How could she? It’s not like someone had handed her a pamphlet that said, “You’ve been

infected: 10 ways to survive turning into a monster.” She didn’t know what her cravings were. She didn’t

know why the pickle jar lid popped off so easily. She couldn’t understand why she healed quickly. The

guy who had bitten her hadn’t whispered in her ear the secrets to avoiding a guard like me.

She stumbled more than walked to a pile of boxes against the wall across the alley. A drunk or

homeless person was trying to sleep there. With her attention averted, I crept closer. The timing had to

be just right. I couldn’t let her bite her prey, but she needed the chance to resist the siren call of blood

coursing through the body in front of her. Uncle Mark insisted. “Kassy Lassy, they’re still human. Just

infected. We have to find one who can survive without human blood. It’s humanity’s only hope.” It was

his last request, so I honor it.

He would have tried to take this woman in. Tried to save her. How many people had he tried to

help over the years he cared for me? Twenty? Fifty? He’d failed every time. The parasite always ravaged

the host body without human blood. I couldn’t stand the sight of the emaciated remains. I figured that a

quick death was less cruel. I didn’t kill the newly infected right away, just in case the magical immune

savior would appear, but mostly I grant them death. An escape from the monster they will become.

The woman dropped to her knees, sobs echoing through the alley. Legs stuck out of an old

dishwasher box before her. The odor of piss and alcohol gagged me. Maybe the stench is what helped the

woman hesitate.

Maybe, but not for long. The sobs stopped and I moved closer.

No one ever made a sound before their first kill. None of them ever thought to bring a knife the

first time either. She knew what she wanted. I could almost see her thought process written out like a

thought cloud in a comic book. How do I get a taste? How do I get to the blood?

I pulled the billy club out of its holster. We hovered at the point of no return. My silent steps

drew me closer as she lowered herself down. Brown roots showed against her dyed blonde hair. My

heart thumped. Another human, lost to the parasite. One quick crack to the skull and I could drag her off

somewhere secluded then finish disposing of her body in peace. One breath, then strike.

“Hey!” someone shouted from the end of the alley.

It startled me. Threw off my rhythm. She looked up. Crap. There went my element of surprise. I

swung down, but she ducked out of the way. Adrenalin surged through my body. She needed to go down

fast. I put too much into the swing, and stumbled off balance. She leapt at me, her face set in a determined

grimace. I matched it with one of my own. Did she have any clue what she could do? I raised my billy

club and deflected her to the side. She spun and lunged again. She was fast, but that time, I was ready. I

smacked her in the head while stepping to the side. She fell hard and didn’t get back up. I hefted the billy

club again to crack open her skull.

A body crashed into mine from behind and hammered me to the ground. I tried to counter with

ground fighting tactics, but my lungs were screaming for my attention. All I could do was suck air in. For

some reason, my body was stuck and refused to exhale. I’d never felt that sensation before. Normally, I’d

tell myself to take deep breaths to calm down. That was worthless advice when you can’t breathe out.

A masculine voice shouted in my ear. “Leave her alone!” This guy was a special kind of stupid.

Trying to play the hero. Probably saw a pretty blonde and hoped to score her phone number.

I squirmed under his weight and managed to flip myself onto my back and gasp for air. He

grabbed both of my hands and held them above my head. That made breathing even harder.

“Police are on their way. Stop fighting me.” His face was close to mine, a hint of alcohol drifting

by. Just what I needed, an inebriated do-gooder poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

My wind wouldn’t come back, so I couldn’t yell at him. The air would only go one way. I needed

him off. The idiot was in danger, and I was flopping on the sidewalk like a fish – as helpless as when

Uncle Mark died. I stared into his black eyes and wished I could communicate telepathically. He wouldn’t

like what I would say, but maybe we’d both survive the night.

The blonde’s face came into view over his shoulder. Fear stilled my struggling against the man.

I’d had a feeling she wouldn’t be out for long since the vampire parasite caused elevated adrenalin levels.

A smile crept up at the corners of her lips. Crap. The look in her eyes. She figured out a little of what she

could do. She was committed to biting, and the fool on top of me would be her first meal if I don’t do


The guy looked over his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay miss. I have her pinned. The police are

on their way. Can you go flag them down at the end of the alley?”

There was no fighting him even while his attention was diverted. Sure, he was strong, but it was

the effort to breathe that crippled me. He turned back, and I shook my head, eyes wide, trying to choke

words out.

The monster behind him put her finger to her lips in a silent gesture for me to be quiet. She tip

toed up behind him. I fought the man, trying to get him to pay attention.

“Stop struggling!”

He thought I was the bad guy. If I could have, I would have laughed.

She leapt on his back. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light, face contorted in a wild expression of

glee. My stomach churned. Let me go and pay attention to her!

He tried to shrug her off and hold me at the same time. The ineffectual move appeared to delight


“What the hell are you doing?” The timbre in his voice belied his wavering confidence. Finally,

this guy was getting a clue that the blonde was not all she seemed.

She giggled in reply then bit his shoulder near his neck. He bellowed in agony, but her sucking

noises were louder. Now, she had his attention. He let go of me and pried at her head. Her death grip

wasn’t loosening, so he punched her in the face. At the third blow, she fell back. Blood sprayed from her

mouth onto my jacket and the ground. She crouched, a grin on her face, scarlet rivulets running down her

chin. She ran her finger along her cheek and lips, wiping the blood into her mouth. “You are delicious,”

she said with a satisfied moan. She had watched too many vampire movies. I hated the ones who thought

they had to fit the stereotypes.

I scooted back, finally exhaling. Although my heart raced, I forced myself to take even breaths,

changing from desperate gasps to a quick, adrenaline-driven pace. The woman loomed over the man,

whose hand was clamped over his wound. I grabbed my billy club, hoping she was too blood-crazed to

notice me. The iron scent of the man’s blood filled my nostrils. I’d have to go past him to reach her, but

he made a good distraction.

When she lunged again, I aimed my billy club at her forehead. With a satisfying crack, the blow

landed. She fell. I was pretty sure she would be out for a while, but I wasn’t taking chances. I smacked

her on the top of the head again. It wasn’t a death blow, but if I let her live, she would probably have

brain damage.

“What is she on?” The man’s voice shook as much as his hands. After a few deep breaths,

he looked as though he might be okay again. Most people would have been on the ground crying. He

warranted a second glance.

He was taller than my five-foot, ten-inch frame, muscular and dressed as if to pick up women at

a bar. He had almond-shaped eyes, dark hair and a slight yellow hue to his skin. His rugged good looks

convinced me he would have been successful picking up a woman had he not seen the altercation and

come to investigate. Now, he was infected with the parasite. He was another vampire in the making. I

would have to kill him, too.

I pushed my hair from my face, wiping the perspiration away –trying to drag my ugly reality with

it. My fingers wrapped around a lock and pulled it to my mouth. The chewing helped me relax. Would

gum have the same effect? I wished I had money for a luxury like that. I felt stupid with hair in my mouth

in front of him. A glance revealed he wasn’t even paying attention to me. He was staring at the blonde.

What was going through his mind? I don’t remember my thoughts from the first time I’d

witnessed a vampire succumb to the blood lust. Probably best I didn’t. I doubted that people stayed sane

if they lingered in that moment. I stuffed those memories back and focused on the matter at hand.

Time to get out of here. I grabbed the woman’s arms and start dragging her down the alley.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, following.

Not only does he mess up a clean vamp hunt, he has to ask questions. I ignored him. It was

easiest to do what I did when I didn’t talk to them. When I knew a victim, it made it harder to remember

that they were turning into vicious killers. The last thing I needed to know was if he had a family or even

his name. When they had names, it was harder to put them down. I dragged the woman another ten feet.

“You can’t leave. The police will be here any minute!” He shouted as if the police could fix the

situation. Poor fool.

We stood about three quarters of the way down the alley. I knew the guy had been traumatized,

but he didn’t know what he walked into. It was better for me to leave with the vampire and let the

authorities spin this however they might. The headlines would probably say something like a drug crazed

female attacked him. The real story would never come out. The government wouldn’t let that happen.

He grabbed my arm, putting his face in mine. “Stop, now!” My muscles tensed. I forced myself to

relax. He was obviously used to being obeyed. His grip was strong, and I could tell through my jacket that

his hands weren’t soft and manicured. This guy worked hard and gave orders. Military maybe? Possibly a

boss at a construction company?

I had a spark of admiration for him that I immediately tried to stomp out. I couldn’t respect him.

He was going to become a killer. I’d be back to stalk him after I finished dealing with her.

Right then, if he made much more noise, there would be more spectators. Ones that weren’t hurt.

Ones without alcohol on their breath. The authorities who weren’t in the know could write off this guy as

in shock and a poor witness. Any more people telling the same story and I’d have a harder time evading

the cops.

I dropped the vampire’s hands and faced him. He had a look in his eyes like he was thinking

“finally, she’s come to her senses!” The guy’s shoulder wound was bad. His hand was firmly clasped over

it, but the blood seeped past his fingers. When I reached for it, he jerked his shoulder back like I would

hurt him more.

“You’re bleeding.”

He sneered. “You think?”

“You need to apply pressure.” I reached into my Sash purse hung underneath my leather jacket

and found the medical pads and tape I kept there. He snatched them out of my hand and slapped them on

the wound. “You were going to drag her away and not give these to me?”

With a shrug I said, “You look big enough to handle yourself. I didn’t realize you would be an

idiot and follow me while bleeding everywhere.”

A glare was his only reply. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to kill him after all.

Retrieving the woman’s hands, I dragged her further away from him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Man, he irritated me. “Walk away. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” We were

almost to the end of the alley. There was a sewer access by my foot, but I couldn’t go there with him

watching. He’d rat me out.

He grabbed my arm again. “She attacked me. She needs to be arrested. I don’t know what the

heck you were doing in this alley.” He pointed his finger in my face. “But you tried to attack her. You

should probably be in jail as well.”

Obviously, he wasn’t good at convincing people to turn themselves in. I stared at his bandages.

His efficient wraps told me he probably had field medical training or something. However, blood was

still seeping through. I pointed to his shoulder. His glance was the amount of time necessary to catch him

flat-footed. I used my billy club to pop him with a brachial stun, and he went down with a groan. The

strike had been careful since I wasn’t ready to kill him, yet. He wasn’t unconscious, but I was sure he was

seeing stars. Too disoriented to notice where I was going. I only needed a minute to disappear.

I didn’t like to attack people when they were still in control of themselves, but time was running

out. Police response wasn’t fast in this neighborhood, but we’d been dallying about 15 minutes. I needed

to leave.

I flipped my jacket back and grabbed the pry bar hanging from my belt. A quick jab and tug

later, I had my escape route. I shoved the woman’s limb body through the hole. She slid over the lip and

crunched onto the cement below. If she wasn’t dead before, she was now. Her body lay in a crumpled

mess below. The dry spell in the city helped me with my job. No slogging through cesspool tides and a

quick way to end things. One bright side to my dark task.

The next tool I pulled from under my coat was a whiskbroom. Sweeping back and forth, I

obscured the drag marks starting ten feet from the manhole and moving towards my escape. I went around

the vet. As he struggled to recover, he’d conceal everything beneath him. When I reached the hole, I

scrambled half way down the ladder. The lid was heavy and awkward as I dragged it back to the opening

while balancing precariously.

I heard the guy moan again. He rolled a bit as though he was trying to regain his feet. Luckily, he

rolled away from me. He didn’t see as I nestled the lid back into place.

The thought of returning to pick up his trail caused my stomach to drop. If my life had been

normal, maybe we would have gone to the same club. I’d have spotted him and tried to catch his eye.

Probably would have danced too close and drunk too much, then woke up at his place in the morning.

Now he was another prey to stalk and kill when he succumbed to the parasite.

Saving the Hero
Book One
Sabrina Sumsion
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Sanguine Publishing
Date of Publication: 8-8-2014
ISBN: 9781500569693
Number of pages: 248
Word Count: 67,000
Cover Artist: Victorine Lieske
Book Description:
Two and a half weeks. That’s all the time he has left.
When loner vampire hunter Kassy is interrupted by nosy veteran, Mike, he ends up bitten, and infected with the vampire parasite. The warrior becomes her prey as she fights to find him before powerful vamps. A couple kidnappings later, she’s hiding in a cabin with him chained to the floor, and an eight-year-old girl in her care.
Death? Inevitable. When the parasite takes control, he’ll do or say anything to get non-infected blood—including seducing her. But, as they spend time together, she finds her resolve weakening. A kiss won’t fix him, but it might mend a deep hole in her heart.
Kassy is too practical to believe in miracles, but if he survives eighteen days without ingesting human blood, there is a chance he could be the hero she’s been looking for.
Odds are he’s a dead man.
About the Author:
I’m a ninja disguised as a homeschooling mom, former literary publicist, craft-aholic and all around reading diva.  Really, I kick down doors –no, wait, that was my husband when I locked us out of the house . . . Well, I engage in combat on a regular basis –online when I play MMORPGs with my children . . . OK, maybe I’m not a real ninja but my husband says I stole his heart.  Does that count?  No?
Shoot.  Well, I love reading and I love writing.  I think imagination is the biggest advantage a child can get in life and I try to allow my children many opportunities to expand theirs every day.
I love teaching authors how to avoid publishing traps and scams as well as how to market themselves and their works.  There is nothing better in life than giving someone information that helps them become successful.
I also take a few hours each week and create jewelry, make lotions or paint something.  I have little creation stations scattered through the house.  My daughter gets into it a lot and scatters things which drives my husband crazy but remember how I mentioned that he says I stole his heart?  Yeah.  I’m not giving it back.  He’s stuck with me forever.  Bwah ha ha ha!


Sep 242014
Tarian spoke, not liking the surreal way it made her feel to stand here surrounded by

living people who acted like mannequins in a dress store window. “The Balance Court wants to

make an Agreement…with me?”

Do you agree?

Tarian hesitated. “Agreements haven’t worked out so well for me so far.”

We have no power over will, thought, or mind. You agree with First Mother? That the

child should be sacrificed and existence returned? Earth Ancients imprisoned?

“Of course not.” Tarian frowned. “But there’s no way I can fully understand what I’m

agreeing to. Nor the penalty if I fail.”

If you fail, the end will result. Those present in the world will disperse, to join chaos.

Spirit will begin again, magic will begin anew. The world will be reborn. Balance will abide, in

either direction.

“You’re saying if I can’t restore balance, it’s the end of the world?”

Every end is a beginning.

“But someone else’s beginning. Not ours. Right?”

Silence greeted her, hanging heavy around her ears and shoulders like iron earrings.

“What about the baby?” She whispered the words, barely able to finish her thought.


Balance is not an end, it is a journey begun at the dawn of time. If successful, the Scion

will be needed, to right the ancient wrong. To restore the ancient break. To heal the ancient

pain. We seek Agreement with the Keeper, in order to aid the Scion. In order to aid Balance. In

order to restore to the world that which was lost. The alternative is to begin anew.

Tarian thought over the words. Breaking one Stulos had taken everything she and

Calliope had to give, in addition to the Dolphin Medallion, and it had nearly sent her into early

labor. What would breaking the others take? Could she even do it?

What if I can’t?

She turned to Daric, but he stood frozen, eyes not blinking, chest not moving. Alex was

the same. She couldn’t ask advice. She couldn’t leave, couldn’t learn more. The decision had to

be made right here, right now, with apparently the weight of the world hanging in the balance.

Balance. Is there really any such thing? All this is because I kept a promise?


Promise of Magic
House of Xannon
Book 3
Melinda VanLone
Genre: urban fantasy
ISBN: 978-0-9887455-4-4
Word Count: 65k
Cover Artist: bookcovercorner.com
Book Description:
On instinct, Tarian bowed her head in return, shocked. “Dulra. Welcome.” She breathed the words, awed by the presence of creatures she’d only known through legends. What is the Balance Court doing here?
“Tarian A’marie Maitea Xannon, of the House of Xannon, Keeper of the Water Artifact, you are summoned to the Balance Court.”
 She’d been summoned, and every particle of her being cried out to answer it.
Despite the advanced stage of her pregnancy, Tarian has some explaining to do. Fulfilling her Agreement with the Carraig was an issue of honor—but it led to complications. The Keeper of the House of Xannon is called to account, and Tarian must embark on a dangerous mission which could cost her the life of her unborn daughter, end in disaster for all planes of existence—or save the world.
Some promises are deadly to keep. Will the promise of magic be one of them?
About the Author:
Melinda VanLone writes fantasy and science fiction, freelances as a graphic designer, and dabbles in photography. She currently lives in Rockville, Maryland, with her husband and furbabies. When she’s not playing with her imaginary friends you can find her playing World of Warcraft, wandering aimlessly through the streets taking photos, or nursing coffee in Starbucks.
twitter: @melindavan

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