Friday, March 20, 2015

Excerpt and Giveaway The Morrigan by Kennan Reid








The Morrigan
Damaged Deities
Book 1
Kennan Reid

Genre: Adult Paranormal Romance

ASIN: B00U3VPSW6

Word Count: 106k

Cover Artist: Najla Qambar

Book Description:

Morrie Brandon is the best horse trainer in Oklahoma, able to tame the wildest of beasts.  She's also the Celtic goddess of War and Sex, The Morrigan, abandoning her supernatural life for a simpler, more human one.   

When Morrie is hired by a secretive Scottish family to capture a killer horse ravaging their Highlands manor, the past she has spent thousands of years running from calls her back. 

Will Morrie learn from her past mistakes and embrace the bold goddess she truly is, or is it too late?


Available at Amazon
Excerpt


She’d heard the whistle before she noticed the man.  Without even looking up, Morrie knew Kade approached her on his way home from town, whistling a slow, sad tune as he hiked.  She could feel his presence. 
As soon as he noticed her, that tune changed, a grin creeping at his lips.
“Told ya the ol’ girl didna like tae be gripped so hard,” Kade smirked, stopping in front of her.
Arms crossed, Morrie expressed her lack of amusement with a dull glare. “That’s not what happened.  This rusted bucket of junk lost a wheel.”
“Ack, don’t speak o’ her so,” he chided, pulling his hands free of his coat pocket, frowning with fake concern.  He sidled around to the driver side, inspecting the damage. “Tis’ nothing, I can fix her right up.”
Morrie jumped off the back and stood behind him as he crouched down beside the truck.  Leaning his shoulder into the side, he lifted the truck up, giving enough space beneath the tire to straighten the wheel.  Morrie’s eyes widened with surprise.
“It’s a lot lighter than it looks,” she said, impressed.
With the wheel corrected, Kade stood up and faced her, dusting his hands off.  “Looks can often be deceiving, Morrie.  And I’ll be takin’ tha ride now, if ye doona mind.”
“Not if you’re driving,” she replied dryly, tossing him the keys.
Once inside and chugging down the road, the truck's cabin seemed much smaller than before.  Kade’s body filled it like an occupying force. 
Morrie kept her face free of expression as she watched the horizon, but still noted with an occasional glance the way Kade leaned back casually, his strong, tan hand hanging over the wheel while he rested his arm on the window.  Out of the corner of her eye she could see him looking at her, watching her more often than the road.
“Are you determined to wreck us?” she asked.
“I know this road better than my own home,” he replied with a deep voice Morrie only then noticed had a way of vibrating her ribcage. “Doona worry yer bonnie head, lass.  Ye’re safe wi’ me.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
He chuckled, but she kept her face turned away from him, watching the landscape slowly pass by.
“Ye know, the shore’s a bit past the house on this road.  There’s a great restaurant there right on the water.  It’s about lunchtime anyway, what do ye say for stopping for a bite?”
“No, thank you.”
“They serve Dr. Pepper.”
She looked at him at that, knowing her face was bright and hopeful despite herself.  He had one dark eyebrow quirked, waiting. 
Opening her mouth to speak, Morrie struggled a moment longer with her basic urges before saying, “Well, I guess I am hungry.”
“I’m no’ too ashamed tae admit that hurt, Morrie.” Kade had his eyes back on the road, a smile playing at his full, soft lips, though his tone had been serious. “That a soda is more appealing tae ye than me.”
With her stunned gaze on him, a grin crept its way on her lips before she could hold it back, lightening her words.
“Well, it’s been two days since I’ve had any.”
“Ye could’ve had plenty last night had ye stayed in bed,” he quipped, his voice dropping seductively.
“Is everything about sex with you?” she asked, eyes wide.
“Canna help myself,” he muttered, a tone of genuine disbelief entering his voice. “When I’m around ye, I seem tae lose my mind.”
In a way, his admission was a surprising compliment, and Morrie couldn’t help smiling at it. 
He frowned.  “My god, is that a smile I see?” He made a show of looking at her, inspecting her face, which only made it harder for her to squelch the silly expression back down. “Doona hide it, Morrie, my dear, that’s the first time I’ve seen ye smile.  It's beautiful.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, facing forward but her lips still upturned.
“Quite right, lass,” he adopted a playful serious tone. “Put that thing away, wouldna want the angels above tae cry with jealousy over its beauty.”
Morrie rolled her eyes and glanced at him.
Something odd happened inside of her, a weird sensation like she had been filled with warm, rich chocolate.  Every time she looked at him, at that bright smile he flashed and the warmth in his eyes, it seemed to stir that molten feeling.
“Just speakin’ the truth.”
"You speak with too much familiarity." She rested her head in her hand, watching him.  He locked eyes with hers and somehow their chocolate depths darkened, his voice husky when he spoke.
"I really canna help it," he answered. "I feel as though I know ye, as though I've known ye my whole life."
She felt it, too, an odd and inexplicable connection that seemed to justify her sudden lust.  And though the feeling was brief and fleeting, it sent a shock through her body. 
Unable to think straight, Morrie sat up and looked out, hoping if she focused on the storm clouds rolling in, it would help relieve the strange sensations at play within her.  Lips parted, she took a breath.
“How much farther?” 
Kade cleared his throat. “Not much.”
Thank the gods, Morrie thought.  Another half mile and she might end up ordering Kade to pull over and take her there in the cow pastures.


About the Author:

Kennan Reid traveled from the vast, open spaces of Texas to the vast, open ocean of California where she enjoys sitting outside in the sun, tossing a frisbee to her dog, Barnabas, and on occasion, writing a few words hoping one day they behave and become a book. When she's not pretending to be a romance author, she is writing young adult novels about elves, witches and reincarnation. The Morrigan is her first adult romance novel and after falling in love with the feisty goddess and her crazy sisters, will not be her last.

Kennan also writes Young Adult as Kelly Riad.  Other Novels include Return to Arèthane and Prince of Arèthane. 

For more information on Kennan visit:


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Jack Gordon’s Favorite Things: The Stewart Realty Series Books 1-3 by Liz Crowe






Jack Gordon’s Favorite Things
By Liz Crowe  


Jack Gordon has a few very favorite things. They include:
Sara
His kids
A hoppy craft beer
A perfect day on Lake Michigan
A tough real estate transaction he can wrestle into submission
Being loyal and reliable for his friends and family
A long, hot session of one-on-one basketball
A competitive soccer match (as a spectator)
When Sara texts him with a “meet me at the condo” message in the middle of the day
Rough sex up against the wall, on the bed, in the laundry room….
Tender love making pretty much anywhere
Long kisses with meaning, especially the kind stolen in public
Watching his kids play sports or music
Building and fixing things with his own hands
Watching Sara sleep
The “well-fucked” look she gets, a lot
Expensive bourbon
Long walks on the beach
A well-tailored suit
A classic American convertible

The original Stewart Realty trilogy: Floor Time/Sweat Equity/Closing Costs introduces this man and his woman and I dare you to not get hooked on their very grown-up story.

Please, dive in, enjoy and get to know them like I do.






Floor Time
The Stewart Realty Series
Book 1
Liz Crowe

Genre:  Romance / Family Saga

Publisher:  Tri Destiny Publishing

Book Description:

Jack Gordon is Ann Arbor's most delectable bachelor. At age thirty-five, he's made millions as a top-selling Ann Arbor real estate broker and has the right connections to close a deal by any means necessary. With his rugged good looks and compelling personality, he has a virtual black book most men would kill for and he uses it often, never settling for one woman for very long.

While his D/s past remains buried, exactly where he wants it, an undercurrent of boredom and dissatisfaction runs through his life now. A disastrous experience years earlier made him swear off the whole scene, but the more Jack suppresses his natural Dom, the more his frustration grows.

Sara Thornton, a rookie in the real estate game, has fast-tracked herself to the top of the Ann Arbor market. Her life reflects a disciplined and focused routine, exactly the way she wants it. However, as her career takes off, the fulfillment she seeks remains inexplicably out of reach. The one thing she knows for sure, she will not join the Jack Gordon groupies in her company, no matter how tempting that might seem.

A chance encounter and a difficult transaction throw Jack and Sara together and the sparks fly high and hot and often. Forced to confront the compulsions that gain momentum with each sizzling hookup, their relationship seems to spiral out of control until Jack finally admits what he needs, and shows Sara what she's been missing.

Available for Free at  Amazon   BN   iTunes   Smashwords   Kobo


Floor Time Excerpt:

Two o’clock became two forty-five with no guests. No big surprise. She made it through half of her water and a few chapters of the latest hot vampire novel she’d brought with her to pass the time. Bored, she got up to walk around when she saw a car pull into the long gravel drive.
She watched as Jack unfolded his tall frame out of the Corvette and walked around to reach into the passenger’s seat. It struck her that she had never seen him in anything but a suit, or at least dress pants, shirt, and tie, as she admired his ass in the dark jeans. He looked good enough to eat. But panic replaced her blooming desire.
What was he doing at her open house? Was there a problem with their deal?
She glimpsed a shopping bag from the local organic chain grocery in one hand. He grinned at her, lighting up his arresting eyes. Her breath caught in her throat.
Shit.
She had made a vow to herself she would not get caught up in the Jack Gordon whirlwind. However, here she was, high and mighty, and yet about to explode with need for his lips on hers.
Double shit.
“I thought you might be lonely all the way out here and we should have a picnic. What do you say?” He made his way to the front door. He wore a plain burgundy t-shirt, jeans that hugged his front as nicely as his rear, and driving shoes. Momentarily blinded by lust, she fought the impulse to pull him into the foyer and make him fuck her until she was spent.
Nice, very nice. The guy brings you a picnic and you want to skip right to the after-play?
Turning on her heel she headed back into the house without even responding to his suggestion, assuming he would follow her. Sara realized she had to get control of herself before talking or her voice would surely betray her. She glanced at her watch. Three p.m. – she had to focus on her job for one more hour. Let him wait.
“Don’t you have an open house of your own?” She sounded a tad more irritable than she intended.
“Nope.” He walked right into her personal space, brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her. His firm lips remained noncommittal. She shivered as he kept his hand on her neck under her hair. He caressed her almost absentmindedly as he looked around at the house.
“Well, the view is great,” he admitted as he strode into the front bedroom suite. Sara watched as he walked out of that room and took in at the high cathedral ceilings made of light ash wood. Then he whistled, picked up his grocery bag, and walked into the kitchen complete with new gleaming stainless steel appliances and white tile floor.
“Nice, but it’s sort of cold in here, isn’t it? Maybe some color, flowers or something, would help?”
“Fuck off, Jack. I don’t need your help. Why are you here, anyway?”
“Easy, tiger, easy.” He leaned on the countertop. “I know you know what to do. I can’t help it. It’s second nature for me to say something about the house first.” Sara caught herself clenching and unclenching her fists, and stopped.
Damn the man, anyway.
She couldn’t even stay mad at him. She slumped against the doorframe.
“It’s a shit listing. I don’t get any showings and hardly any new buyers from these open houses. The sellers couldn’t care less that it sits here and gets stale.” She sighed, then relaxed, only to have her desire for him rush over her like a tidal wave. He attended to his grocery bag and began setting stuff on the counter.
“What the hell am I going to do when a guest shows up, Jack? Put that crap away.”
“It’s okay, babe, we’ll just say we rolled out the red carpet for your potential buyers with these nice strawberries and this cream.” He pulled the last container from the bag with a flourish.
“You are insane, you know that?” She stared at the array of stuff on the counter.
“You won’t think that when I show you this amazing bottle of wine I found. I forgot I had it.” He pulled out a green bottle with a French label of some sort, two wine glasses, and a corkscrew.
“Um, yeah, well, I’m not really comfortable doing this here. I mean, it’s not my kitchen.” Sara gulped as she took another step away from him to get his smell out of her nose.
“Sure it is.” He worked the cork out, allowing her to admire the amazing definition of his arms. “I’ll bet you’ve spent more time in this fucked-up house with its million-dollar view than you have in your own house since you listed it. I mean, you do opens, you refill sales brochures, you check on the lawn – what else? Tell me I’m wrong.” He pulled the cork free, splashed some golden liquid into each glass, and handed one to her. By the time he’d completed the task, Sara had made her way nearly six feet away from him.
“Baby, I don’t bite,” he said, holding out the glass to her.
She surged forward, as if to prove she wasn’t afraid, grabbing the glass as she passed.

“Thanks. Never had a happy hour at an open house.”

Sweat Equity
The Stewart Realty Series
Book 2
Liz Crowe

Genre:  Romance / Family Saga

Publisher:  Tri Destiny Publishing

Book Description:

Jack Gordon thought he’d finally made it. He had a wildly successful career, money in the bank and even returned to his life as Dom, putting an end to a string of unfulfilling sexual encounters. Now that he's made the ultimate commitment to Sara Thornton, he believes all is right in their world. However, a series of misunderstandings and a dose of self-fulfilling prophesy bring his perfectly crafted house of cards tumbling down around him, forcing him to confront lingering misgivings about marriage and trust. Could those be the only two things he can never achieve?

Sara struggles with her intense need for Jack and her desire for less volatility in her busy life, two goals which appear to be mutually exclusive. Although willing to put in the time and emotional effort to make their relationship work, she finds it futile and frustrating, littered with clashes thanks to near-identical personalities and temperaments. Given Sara’s history, easing back into the comfortable status quo becomes easier than fighting a war with the one person who should be her safe haven. But will the easier choice satisfy her the way only Jack can? Is her "war" one that comes from without or within?

Buffeted by circumstance, temptation and distraction, Jack and Sara’s tenuous relationship crumbles, sparking a continuous quest for the ever elusive: trust, love and acceptance. By the time they rebuild a foundation for renewal, fate has other plans. This leaves them both reeling, once again questioning their destiny.

Available at Amazon   BN   iTunes   Smashwords    Kobo


Sweat Equity Excerpt:

Jack watched his now ex-fiancée screech out onto the quiet street, sipped his bourbon and relished its slow lubrication of the horror at what had just happened. He sank back into the chair and glared at the fucked up still life of the condom and ring together on the table.
“Happiness Thwarted” he could call it, or even better, “In Which Jack Is a Dumb Ass.” The purple foil packets stacked next to the nearly twenty-thousand-dollar hunk of metal and compressed coal he’d put so much faith in just a few months ago.
“Goddamnit.” He swept the whole mess onto the floor. His usual method of instant spin control had abandoned him. He had nothing, remained a hollow shell, scraped clean, raw and pulsing like a six-foot five-inch exposed nerve ending.
The fucking condoms.
He’d left them there from over a year ago. From when he’d taken that crazy-ass blonde bitch of a client away for a weekend. The weekend she tried to convince him to marry her. But he’d already met Sara by then. So, he had fucked the woman six ways to Sunday then dropped her at her house, his mind and heart elsewhere.
Oh, the bitter irony of the situation did not escape him. Vegas had been fun, sure. He’d flirted like crazy and let some ladies buy him drinks but he went to bed alone every single night without a single qualm or regret. He hadn’t talked to Sara that week, but he’d been busy, serving on countless panels and attending dozens of stupid glad-handing receptions. When he wasn’t doing that he’d played Texas Hold ’em and lost his ass with gleeful abandon. He’d had his mind firmly fixed on the future. With Sara. He’d even entertained a pretty out-there fantasy of her beautiful body, swollen and full with their child.
“Oh fuck.” His face and eyes burned. His throat closed up. The room spun. He had to get her back.
How? Was he even worthy?
No, he wasn’t. But he didn’t care.
Jack got up, retrieved the expensive ring from the floor and set it on the front hall table with his other stuff. His heartbeat pounded at the sight of it. Anger followed close on the heels of despair. The house echoed with silence. He knew what he needed. Picking up his smart phone he quick dialed his friend, Suzanne.
“Hey, Jack, what’s up?”
“I need to talk.”
“Where are you?” The noise of her beer bar receded, so he assumed she must have walked into the brewery.
“Home. But I’m coming over. You gonna be there?”
“Well, I wasn’t, but I’ll stick around.” Silence spun out between them before she spoke again. “You did it, didn’t you?”
Jack dragged a hand through his hair. He knew exactly what she meant. “Yeah. I did.”
“Oh hell.” The ensuing silence deafened him. He trusted Suzanne more than he trusted just about anyone, except her business partner, who was currently on the West Coast at some beer conference. “C’mon over, you fucking idiot. I’ll buy you a beer.” Jack slumped against the wall, relieved to have somewhere to go, sick to his stomach and emptier than he’d ever felt in his entire life.

Closing Costs
The Stewart Realty Series
Book 3
Liz Crowe

Genre:  Romance / Family Saga

Publisher:  Tri Destiny Publishing

Book Description:

Love conquers all? Not likely, according to Sara Thornton. She's spent eight years coming to terms with the new parameters of her life while resigning herself to the idea that “happily ever afters” are best left to fairytales. Sales manager for her successful real estate office and juggling an added element of responsibility she never thought she'd face, Sara continues to struggle with the men in her life. Love, for her, has only meant hurt, broken trust and anger; all of which she’s completely banished from her life, so she claims.

Jack Gordon has come a long way since his early days of obsession with Sara. As the general manager of Stewart Realty, his own level of responsibility for the well-being of others has ramped up. He’s even honed his caretaking skills, now that he has someone who loves him unconditionally.

Continuing to invest effort and rebuild their relationship, he and Sara grow close as friends. Despite this, his ultimate question remains unanswered; the one he keeps asking, no matter how many times she says no. Sara isn't prepared for the keen focus of his need--to have her back, once and for all. Her stubborn resistance nearly rips both lives apart

The epic conclusion to The Realtors series, Closing Costs brings Jack and Sara truly full circle. Proving that the heat of lust and obsession; the need for control and to be mastered in many areas of life can lead to love —surprising you when you least expect it – if you will only allow it.

Available at   Amazon    BN    iTunes   Smashwords   Kobo


Excerpt Closing Costs:

Once Jack and Sara had eased back into a wary friendship, the entire Stewart Real Estate Company rejoiced because it meant fewer fraught upper management meetings. Jack Gordon was a hard-ass leader, tough, firm, driven and with high expectations of everyone around him. He had turned the brokerage around. But for almost a year he’d been impossible to work with – antsy, quick tempered, never seeming to leave the office even to sleep or eat except on Tuesdays and Thursdays – the days he had Kate at his house.
Their conversations lasted long into the night nearly three or four times a week and between sorting through work issues and discussing theories of raising a successful future woman, they’d drifted into more personal details.
“So…” she’d asked at one point, needing to know but dreading the answer at the same time. “Have you, um, moved on, like I told you to?”
“Since when do I do what you tell me?”
She’d shivered at the sound of his voice. It had compelled her in so many ways, for good and bad. She needed to hear it, like she needed to drink water.
“Never mind.”
“And you? Find a new boyfriend yet?”
“Yeah, in all my spare time, I’m out clubbing, picking up guys.”
“Well, there is the internet.”
“That’s sick. You gonna answer me?”
He sighed. “I’ve been down at the club again. Playing.” Sara shut her eyes.
“Why didn’t you ever take me there? I would’ve…”
He cut her off. “You weren’t ready and every time I thought you were, you’d scream at me to get the hell out of your life, if memory serves.”
“Yeah, I guess so. We sure are good at bad timing, aren’t we?”
“Uh huh. You, my dear, are the queen of overreaction. But I still love you.”
Her scalp had tingled and she snuggled down in the covers. “Don’t know why. I’m a real bitch, I hear.”
He chuckled and her thighs tightened at the sound. “You horny, baby? That what this is about?”
She’d bitten her lip. “You psychic?”
“Only as relates to you.”
“Good night Jack. See you tomorrow.”
“Wait – let’s have phone sex. It’ll be fun.”
It had been her turn to chuckle. “You are so…”
“Blue-balled? Seriously Sara. I may be messing around downtown but I don’t…I can’t…oh hell why am I telling you anyway. You’ll just gloat.”
“No, I won’t. Tell me.”
“Another time. When you’re on your knees, begging me.”
“Dream on.”
“No, you will be.”
She’d shuddered, her whole body on fire now with need for his hands, his lips, his voice. “Stop it.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
She’d sighed, realizing the hopelessness of her whole relationship with him.


 PRAISE FOR THE ORIGINAL STEWART REALTY TRILOGY

“The sizzling power of attraction and the sexiness of a take charge Alpha male attitude is incredibly written by this talented author.”-- Romancing The Book

“The chemistry felt between the characters is nothing short of electrifying.  I was struck by a range of emotions while reading this novel, I love a read that can toy with my emotions but not leave me feeling emotionally devastated!”-- Flirty and Dirty Book Blog

“This series, especially Sweat Equity, is emotional, hot and realistic. There are lots of break-ups and A LOT of make-ups. I urge readers to pick this book up, but only after reading the first book, Floor Times, in this amazing series. The cliffhanger in this book will make you want to throw your Kindle or paperback. But you will immediately rush to get the third book in this series.”-- Cocktails and Books

“Once again, kudos to Liz Crowe's writing on CLOSING COSTS for the happily ever after that was long coming for Jack and Sara. I found myself frustrated, anger and also teary-eyed because I just wanted to see them together and start living their life as a happy family. I truly loved this book even with all the complications of the lives of the characters but that is the beauty of it: It is so realistic that you can see it happening, unfolding right in front of your eyes.”-- The Romance Reviews

“Crowe's writing is so realistic and enjoyable, I found myself alternating between extreme frustration, tears and happiness. I literally could not put the book down and read it all in one sitting. This is a book I will read more than once.”— *Most Helpful Amazon Rated Review by Amazon User My Book Addiction and More

“I positively enjoyed this book, especially the characters, which were appealing and well-developed–and the writing which impressed me from the first page.”-- Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews

“What Worked
Just. About. Everything. That’s not to say life was beautiful all the time, but there wasn’t a single moment where I was upset with this read.”-- All Romance Reviews

“Be prepared to read non-stop as the adventure continues and leaves your jaw dropping for more. I 100% recommend this book that has left me anxiously waiting for the next installment. The characters are so amazing and well developed and the situations they experience evoke so much emotion. I could not stop reading this book because it was that addicting!!!”-- *Most Helpful Amazon Rated Review by Amazon User A_Carve


Read the rest of the series Available on Amazon -including an anthology that has Floor Time/Sweat Equity/Closing Costs all in one PLUS “House Rules” the Jack Gordon prequel.

ESSENCE OF TIME (Stand alone novel or book 4)
CONDITIONAL OFFER (book 5)
ESCALATION CLAUSE (book 6)
MUTUAL RELEASE (Stand alone novel or book 7)
GOOD FAITH (Stand alone “final” novel or book 8)
HOUSE RULES (The Jack Gordon Prequel)

About the Author:

Amazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.

Website       Beer, Books & More Blog    Facebook Fan Page




Beer Blog         Sign Up for Liz Newz

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Stars Apart by Skyler White







Stars Apart
Skyler White

Genre: futuristic fantasy erotica

Publisher: SilkWords
Date of Publication: March 14, 2015

Cover Artist: Indie Designz

Book Description: 

Astra, a trapeze artist in an illegal interstellar circus, falls for a powerful renegade magician, and the attraction between them is strong enough to draw the ruling coven, the painful past, and the fury of space down upon them.


About the Author:

The child of two college professors, I left high school to pursue a career in ballet. Since then, I’ve worked in theater and advertising, earned a Master’s degree and appeared on reality TV, and if you can find a “career path” in that, you have a better eye for pattern than I do.

My debut novel, ‘and Falling, Fly‘ was named one of the top sci-fi/fantasy books of 2010 by Library Journal, Barnes & Noble’s Sci-Fi Blog, and Dear Author.  My follow-up, ‘In Dreams Begin‘ was accorded the same honor by Fantasy Literature. ‘The Incrementalists,’ co-written with Steven Brust, was one Publisher’s Weekly Top 10 Sci-Fi/Fantasy titles for Fall 2013, and recently, I've started exploring indie publishing with "Offerings," a serialized sacred erotica. 

I write angels and scientists, demons, faeries and revolutionaries, secret societies and sacred sex because I’m interested in the places where myth and modernity tangle. I’m a mother and a rebel, a wife and a romantic.  I’m a liberal living in Texas, an existentialist witch, and a sucker for paradox – lucky thing, right?


















SilkWords is the go-to source for interactive romance and erotic fiction.

With gorgeous custom covers and a clean, sophisticated design, the SilkWords site offers a secure, upscale reading environment. In addition to content on their web site, they offer stories for purchase in the standard e-book formats.

SilkWords is owned and operated by a full-time mom with a background in genetics and an RWA RITA-nominated, multi-published sci-fi romance author.

Their technology guy and site designer was the founder of Microsoft Xbox Live.

SilkWords features two formats that allow readers to choose how the stories will proceed.

Pick Your Path:

Will she or won't she? With which man (or woman) in which location? With Pick Your Path romance, you decide. Romance and branched fiction are made for each other, like picking your favorite flavor of ice cream...positions, partners, and paraphernalia, oh my!

Reader Vote:

Readers vote at choice points and decide how the story will continue. These stories are a great way for readers and authors to connect. It’s exciting to be part of a developing story!

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March 16 Interview
Eclipse Reviews

March 17 Character Interview
Author Karen Swart

March 18 Spotlight
Fang-tastic Books

March 19 Guest Blog
Roxanne’s Realm

March 20 Interview
The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom

March 23 Interview
Deal Sharing Aunt



Guest Blog: Summertime by Chuck Gould



Sometimes, It Takes a Village
To Defeat Writer’s Block
By Chuck Gould

During the last couple of decades, I have been lucky enough to earn a living as a writer. Over 1,000 magazine articles and feature under my own name, and a few humorous pen names, appeared in recreational boating magazines in the Pacific Northwest. Five, six, seven and more per month. Month after month, year after year, articles and features sprang almost effortlessly from the keyboard.

I discovered, as do a lot of writers, that I was far less productive when focused on the recreational writing of a novel. Long lists of things that seemed to be more urgent were constantly diverting time and energy from writing. I was fairly comfortable and confident with non-fiction, but self-doubt regarding the relative “quality” of my fiction proved to be an additional disincentive. I was always planning to work on my novel “when I got around to it,” and often secretly relieved when presented with a good excuse for putting off facing my insecurities and anxieties.

Things turned around, almost instantly, when I joined a writer’s group in Seattle. We met in person, once a week to read aloud up to about 5 pages produced since the previous meeting. As each member completed their work for the next session, we circulated the manuscripts by email to allow other members time to carefully evaluate and critique the work.

There are any number of virtual critique groups that purport to fulfill the same function on-line. I’ve tried a few of them, and continue to participate sometimes. Meeting in person has a number of advantages. As a writer, you quickly develop a sense of being accountable to the other individuals in the group. Old time magazine writers, as well as news reporters, will appreciate the effective influence of a weekly deadline.

Joining an in-person writing group eliminates one of the more serious disadvantages of on-line critique groups. Many people seem to feel it is far more blessed to receive than to give: perhaps especially on line. When a group meets in person, the price for receiving four or five weekly crits on a chapter is offering four or five crits in return. There’s no chance, when meeting in person, that hours spent reading and evaluating the work of other novelists won’t be reciprocated in kind.

I discovered there are both advantages and disadvantages to working with a small, fixed group. An author, and the critique group, learn to communicate more effectively as weeks go by. There is very little chance that a member of the group will castigate a chapter out of spite or a perverse desire to be smart aleck. On the other hand, I suspect there were instances where something I wrote was more disappointing than one or two of my group members chose to communicate. While it is never useful to be deliberately cruel, sparing an author’s feelings may encourage tepid or ineffective technique.

Yes, sometimes it takes a village to overcome writer’s block. Two novels published since last September (“Summertime, Book One” and  “Summertime, Book Two”) demonstrate that at least for me, and no doubt for others as well, a weekly deadline and accountability to other writers spurs productivity.





Summertime
Book One
Chuck Gould       

Genre: metaphysical fantasy

Publisher: Starry Night Publishing

Date of Publication: September 28, 2014

ISBN: 9781502523174

Number of pages: 298
Word Count:

Cover Artist: Larry Dubia

Book Description:

Wesley Perkins, successful and privileged advertising executive, makes an apparently impromptu purchase in a pawn shop. Almost immediately, he becomes immersed in a new reality. Old values evaporate. The line between good and evil seems inconsistent. Wesley is challenged to accept profound change, all the while juggling choices of enormous consequence.

Summertime, Book One, is the first portion of a story that delves into a surreal realm of metaphysical fantasy. Situational moralities are juxtaposed with omnipresent supernatural forces. Where the boundaries of our mundane lives intersect cosmic intents, events, and conspiracies, we can become overwhelmed by involuntary transformation. We look for surrogate sacrifices, and a home in Summertime.


Available on  Amazon    BN



Excerpt Book 1

Vanessa hated the basement. Even during the daylight hours, she ventured only reluctantly down the stair to do her laundry or occasionally retrieve something from storage. She knew there were rats in the basement. She often swept up their droppings, and it wasn’t unusual to hear something scraping against cardboard boxes as it ran along the base of the wall. Oddly enough, Vanessa seldom saw a rat. Infrequently, a sacrificial rat would appear- neck broken by the savage spring of Vanessa’s 17th Century style trap. Vanessa used to pretend she had caught “the” rat, and wouldn’t need to spend hundreds of dollars for an exterminator. Over the years, she had accepted an unhappy truce with her resident rodents. These days, she didn’t call an exterminator because there was always something that seemed a more important use of the money.

Vanessa found her flip flops and bathrobe, and headed for the stairway. Her open white bathrobe hung from her shoulders, contrasting with her dark skin but failing to provide any degree of modesty. She was reluctant to venture underground at night, but the weird idea that there might be some unexplained connection between Wesley Perkins and her probable grandfather, Judah Jones, couldn’t molder until daylight. She flipped the light switch at the top of the stairs. The loud snap of the switch initiated a series of electrical flashes, followed by the muffled explosion of a failing light globe. “Shit. One lightbulb in the whole damn basement, and it just burned out. Hell with it. I’m going down there anyway. I’ve got to, got to, got to figure this out.”

Vanessa tied her bathrobe across the front of her body, grabbed a fresh globe from a kitchen cabinet next to the stairway door, and stepped slowly into the blackness. A 90-degree bend at the top of the stairs prevented any usable amount of light from filtering in from the kitchen. Vanessa moved her feet slowly and deliberately between wooden treads, feeling her way in the darkness with heel and toe. A few steps from the bottom, she gasped at the sensation of something with tiny paws ran across her bare foot tops, dragging what felt like a coarse tail behind. She was sure she saw a pair of glowing eyes near the laundry sink. There was definitely a rustle among the storage boxes. Vanessa considered turning around and climbing back up the stairs. She wanted to act as though her visit to the basement could wait until morning, but she was compelled to conclude it could not.



About the Author:

Seattle native Chuck Gould is a writer and musician.

Formerly editor of Nor’westing Magazine and editor emeritus of Pacific Nor’West Boating, he has written over 1,000 articles for recreational boating magazines.

Chuck plays a variety of keyboard instruments, and enjoys the “exercise in humility” attempting to master the great highland bagpipe.

https://www.facebook.com/Novelwerks




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