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Rebecca Royce - Love Beyond Time Excerpt + Contests

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Enter to win an eBook by Rebecca Royce via this NOR blog Post. Plus get entered for Rebecca's blog tour prize. That's a $50 Amazon Gift Card.

***

Hi Readers,

Tammie here - Today I have an author to introduce you to that I just love. I've read most of the stories and books that she has put out. Rebecca Royce has some great stories for you, but today she is showcasing Love Beyond Time. As part of today's post she has also included an excerpt for you to enjoy. I hope you will check out her work and become a fan like I have. Rebecca writes both romance and young adult. You will find that she also has a wide range of genres, but many fall into my favorite genre of paranormal romance. I read both of her paranormal YA titles while on a business trip down to Cali. Since then I've been craving another story in that series.

Tammie King

LOVE BEYOND TIME

BLURB

Born one half of a perfect pair, Kal has spent his life believing his other half is gone. But when fate thrusts Isabelle into his arms, he will have no choice but to become the man he was destined to be. That is, if he can battle his own demons first.

Not willing to accept her heritage as an Outsider, Isabelle tries to hide from the truth. But when Kal’s life is on the line, she will have to step forward and embrace her powers or watch everything she has come to love disappear.

EXCERPT:

Abraxas Moore stared one more time at the unforgiving clouds forming above him. The weather would soon become perilous, and he knew he had very little time until they caught him. Even the Green Hills, the place that had sheltered him and his kind for centuries--their home--was no longer safe.

The rain that he was sure would start at any moment would not be life renewing. It was not a sign of rebirth, and he knew with a near perfect certainty it was not even natural in its origins. Rather, it had been conjured by those who sought to kill him as a means to draw him out into the open. They hoped he would make a mistake and fail at his task. Then they would be able to trap and kill him.

Most disturbing, however, was he knew they would succeed in their task.

His role as leader of his people, not one he ever truly sought, weighed heavily on him that night, and he knew not even the love of his wife, Niki, would sustain him through what was to come. The prophecy was no longer something that would eventually happen, but was actually occurring in front of his eyes.

Time had finally caught up with them.

After centuries of very little change, his people were facing almost immediate destruction, and it had fallen to him to somehow find a way to help them survive what would be certain annihilation.

Ironically, the storm that had come out of nowhere this evening had been the final sign he needed to indicate their impending doom. When an Outsider stopped being able to predict the weather then it really was the end of the world.

How would humanity last even another decade without them around to silently keep the balance of lightness and darkness in order? His people had thrived, for centuries by walking the lines of grey that fell between the two extremes of Good and Evil. They kept order and balance in their little space in the universe.

They always had and he had hoped they always would.

Oh sure, they may have slightly pushed things towards the side of Good whenever possible. They were, after all, not Gods or Deities who could see the fabric of time and know the outcome of decisions they made before they made them. They were humans--of a sort--with another power, another layer, to their minds that allowed them to see what most humans could not--all things were connected.

Time, energy, life, and even death all flowed on the same strings of current, like a sound wave or an electrical wire, and they had been used or manipulated by his people since the dawn of time to keep things in order. This had been their sacred duty since creation, and it was the obligation they would all be forfeiting with their deaths in no short amount of time.

Without them, it was likely there would be chaos. Humanity would fall in this dimension. Chaos. Enslavement. Famine. Death. Evil would finally win its battle to control all things. Good would stand no chance of prevailing because they wouldn't see the 'bad guys' coming until it was too late to stop them.

His people had forgotten they were not Gods. He was to blame for this, as he was to blame for so many other mistakes over his short reign. If there was a way to fix things, he would gladly do whatever it took to complete the task. But alas, the chanting had stopped for him, and he knew he was out of the precious currency known as time.

Even transporting backwards into the past seemed to be out of the question. It was as if a wall had been erected to keep his kind from reaching back to that moment when all things had gone awry.

He should have been paying better attention.

Clenching his fists at his side, Abraxas stomped across the grass from his small cottage home towards the top of Windfelt Hill. What would the local population think when the barriers fell and they suddenly realized they had been living side by side with unknown people for generations?

The wind blew, pushing his blond hair into his face and since he couldn't see, it made it exceptionally hard to proceed to his destination.

It was absolutely essential he get up the hill before the sun went down and he was plunged into darkness. He needed to place his ritual staff upon the hill and call to the heavens for help. That is if they hadn't abandoned him and could still hear his pleas for his people. Was anyone up there still listening to the Outsiders or was it too late?

The grass chomped below his feet. It was still winter, and spring hadn't made its first pushes to thaw out his part of the world. Ice sat atop the grass, changing its color from its natural green to a more transparent blue. It crunched below his well-worn boots. Niki had started mending them, begging him to actually acquire a new pair, before she had taken off with their daughter to hide with the others.

Perhaps he should have stopped her, but it had seemed futile. Let them go. Let them all go and see if we can hide the children was what he had ultimately decided.

Finally reaching his destination, Abraxas stopped to look around him. He had known the top of this hill intimately since he was a child.

Windfelt Hill was the outer ring of their boundary. To cross over the top of the barrier and over to the other side was to cross into the land of humanity. No amount of power, his or anyone else's, could shield his people for very long from the humans if they crossed this hill, which was why in the past only a select few were chosen to make the trek.

Last month, all of his people, with the exception of him, had opted to cross. His job wasn't done. He didn't have the luxury of leaving. Not until he had exhausted every option. If the Darkness knew where they were, then it was time to be somewhere else. They had decided their strength no longer held in numbers but in small hidden groups that were far from each other, far from the hills and woods that had hidden them and nourished them. It was their last desperate attempt to keep this annihilation of their people at bay and it made him crazier than he cared to dwell on that the whole of their society had opted to run away than stay and fight. Why was he the only one who could see it was better to stay and fight than turn and run?

He wondered how they were all faring out there in the world and once again he felt the pull to Niki and the unrelenting desire to throw away all of his responsibilities and join her in her hiding place. So maybe he wasn't that different from the others when it came down to it. He wanted the family life too. Their daughter was a month older and she aged without him there to watch her do it. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it away. He had thought they would never have children. They should have been too old. One lone tear slipped from his left eye and he brushed it away. She was growing up without him and it truly made his insides burn.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

As a teenager, Rebecca Royce would hide in her room to read her favorite romance novels when she was supposed to be doing her homework. She hopes, these days, that her parents think it was well worth it.

Rebecca is the mother of three adorable boys and is fortunate to be married to her best friend. They live in northern New Jersey and try not to freeze too badly during the winter months.

She's in love with science fiction, fantasy, and the pararnormal and tries to use all of these elements in her writing. She's been told she's a little bloodthirsty so she hopes that when you read her work you'll enjoy the action packed ride that always ends in romance. Rebecca loves to write series because she loves to see characters develop over time and it always makes her happy to see her favorite characters make guest appearances in other books. In Rebecca Royce's world anything is possible, anything can happen, and you should suspect that it will. www.rebeccaroyce.com

www.rebeccaroyce.blogspot.com



CONTEST DETAILS

Just comment on this post to be entered for both prizes. The ebook will be selected from only the comments on this blog where as the GC will be selected from all the comments on her tour. You do need to leave the first bit of your email address so we can find you. You also need to be a NOR Newsletter / Fan Club subscriber to enter. USA Postage Only on shipped items. eBook giveway ens on 10/14. GC portion ends based on the authors blog tour.

FOLLOW THE TOUR

http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2011/08/virtual-book-tour-love-beyond-time-by.html

Sarah Gilman - Out in Blue Excerpt + Contest

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Enter to win a copy of Out in Blue!

***

Today, I’d like to share the first half of the second chapter in my debut novel. In the first chapter of Out in Blue, Ginger overhears poachers’ plans to attack an archangel, and she rushes to intervene. Wren, the archangel, and Ginger interact briefly in the first chapter when he hauls her off the ground and flies her away from the poachers, but this scene is when they have a few minutes to talk to each other for the first time. My favorite line in the entire novel appears in this scene: The tiny curve of his lips managed to touch his eyes, making him look more like an angel than his wings did.

Sarah Gilman

ABOUT THE BOOK

In a violent world where fallen archangels are hunted for their valuable plumage, Wren knows one thing for certain: the human woman who saved him from a poacher attack will die if she stays with him. The demon responsible for his parents’ gruesome deaths two decades ago pines for the chance to rip apart any woman who stands under Wren’s wing.

Wren doesn’t expect Ginger to stay by his side once she discovers his ability to drain life with a mere touch, yet she lingers. When an unusual talent of her own reveals the location of Wren’s father, Wren’s isolated world implodes. With the help of the demon protectors he’s sworn never to trust again, Wren risks everything to rescue his father, confront the demon who stalks his and Ginger’s every step, and claim his eternity with the most courageous woman he’s ever known.

EXCERPT

Chapter Two

Two gunshots echoed off the mountains. Ginger, fumbling with her car keys, threw her head back in time to see Wren plummet from the sky, a streak of white. She shrieked and covered her face. She clenched her jaw, readying herself, and ran back into the woods toward the house.

She crept through the trees, keeping low in the thick vegetation. Branches clawed at her face. Damp leaves squished under her feet. Tears burned her eyes and throat. The least she could do now was make sure the poachers didn’t profit off Wren’s death.

They won’t get a single feather, Wren. I promise.

She reached the edge of the woods near the house and peeked through the thick branches of a pine sapling. Wren lay in the grass, two poachers standing over him. As Ginger wondered what to do, a large white van pulled into the driveway and lurched across the lawn. The poacher she’d first seen in the café got out, and together, he and his partners lifted Wren’s limp body through the double doors at the back of the vehicle. Shit. Now what was she going to do?

“Stay here in case that bitch comes back.” The café poacher knocked knuckles with his nearest colleague. “Trent, come help me get the gear out of the house.”

Ginger waited. The two poachers disappeared inside the Victorian. The third lit a cigarette and leaned against the idling van. He exhaled smoke and tilted his head back, staring at the sky. Twenty feet of overgrown lawn separated them.

“You’re insane, Ginger,” she muttered to herself. She grasped a large rock and stepped out of the woods. Approaching the man, she tiptoed around twigs and slowly sank her weight onto the crunchy fallen leaves, but the heavy scents of engine exhaust and cigarette smoke made her cough.

The poacher pivoted. Their eyes met. The cigarette fell to the ground and he reached for his gun, but Ginger ran the last few feet and swung the rock with everything she had. The rock struck the poacher’s head with a sickening thwack that reverberated up her arm. He crumpled to the ground, moaning.

Ginger rushed around the idling van to the driver’s side, jumped in and hit the gas. In moments, the abandoned house disappeared in the rearview mirror. Tears fell despite her efforts to contain them. She drove down the road and back through town, until she reached her street ten minutes later. After parking in front of her house, she dropped her forehead to the steering wheel.

“Bastards.” She lifted her head and turned to see the archangel. He lay on his stomach in the cargo area, his wings crammed into the confined space. Blood soaked one of his wings, even his flight feathers, which were each as long as one of her legs. The coppery smell of the congealing mess made her stomach churn.

“I’m so sorry.” Her chest ached. She reached back and gently touched his head.

Wren’s shaking hand inched toward his face. Ginger sucked in a breath and pulled her hand back. He rubbed his face, his movements sluggish. Dark green eyes lifted to meet her gaze.

“You?” He slurred his words. “How did you—”

“You’re alive!” She covered her mouth. Her gaze returned to his injured wing, and her elation subsided. Blood still ran from the wound.

Ginger climbed into the back of the van and knelt next to Wren’s head. That was as close as she could get; his wings took up all the space.

She pulled her cardigan over her head. Heat rose to her cheeks. Kneeling only in her jeans and black lace bra, she folded the cardigan over the edge of his wing and pressed the cloth to both sides of the wound.

Wren fisted his hands as she applied pressure.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be.” He rested his head in his arms. “Thank you.”

“They drugged you?”

“Yes,” he said, his speech still slurred. “What happened?”

“I saw you fall.” She swallowed. “I thought you were dead. I went back and watched them put you in the van, then I stole it. I didn’t want them to profit off killing you.”

The tiny curve of his lips managed to touch his eyes, making him look more like an angel than his wings did.

“Thank you. Most humans wouldn’t have helped me. So thank you...?” His voice lifted as if asking a question.

“Ginger.”

“Ginger.” He closed his eyes. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he breathed in rapid, shallow gasps through his mouth.

“Can you walk? We’re at my home. You can rest and your wing needs a real bandage... Oh, shit!” She bit her lip.

“What?”

“I left my wallet in my car, near the abandoned house. My driver’s license. My name, my home address...”

Wren’s eyes widened. “The poachers will find your car. And yes, they’ll pursue you. They don’t care for being thwarted.”

Ginger struggled into the driver’s seat. “Then we’ll go...somewhere.”

“We?” Wren took over holding the cardigan in place.

She watched him in the rearview mirror. “You’re hurt. I’m not going to dump you on the side of the road.”

“You should. Someplace in the woods. I’ll manage. You should go to the human authorities for protection.”

“You’ll manage? Even if I was willing to drop you off on your own like this, the police wouldn’t lift a finger to help me. I’m a—” She bit her tongue. If Wren didn’t trust the Guardians, telling him about her father probably wasn’t the best idea.

“You’re what?” The drug-induced slur faded from Wren’s speech and curiosity brightened his gem-green eyes.

She let out a long breath. “I was raised by a demon, after he found my human parents dead. He’s a Guardian.”

“A Guardian?” Wren’s voice took on a chilly edge.

“He’s in Alaska. I called him after I overheard the poachers, and he’s sending help from Sanctuary—”

“I don’t want their help,” he interrupted, his words clipped.

She nodded. “I know. Devin told me a little bit about what happened to your family. I’ll take you somewhere to heal, and I won’t tell my father where we are, all right?”

“You’d do that?”

“You can trust me.”

Wren went silent, suspicion in his narrowed eyes.

She pulled her keys from her pocket. At least she hadn’t left those. The poachers would be after her, but they had a long walk into town first. “I’m going to run inside and grab some supplies. Your wing needs a real bandage. Then we’ll get out of here.”

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Lisa Beth Darling - Excerpts + Contests

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Enter to win a print copy of The Heart of War!

***

Tammie here - Today Lisa Beth Darling is introducing you to two of her books. Plus you get an excerpt with both.

THE HEART OF WAR

GENRE: Erotic Paranormal Romance
LENGTH: Novel-516 pgs.
HEAT LEVEL-HOT
SEXUAL ORIENTATION-M/F
CONTENT WARNINGS- The Heart of War contains scenes of graphic sex and violence. As such, this novel is intended for ADULTS ONLY it is NOT recommended for the Faint of Heart or for the Harlequin/Avon/"Twilight" reader.

BLURB

Inside the Heart of every Warrior breathes the Soul of a Hero--even within The Heart of War.

Meet Ares God of War, the greatest Warrior the world has ever known. He's moody, grumpy, dominant, ravenously sexual, and above all, built like a Greek God.

Suspected of killing his Daughter in-Law, Psyche, and long in exile from Olympus, the solitude of Ares' secluded Greek Isle is interrupted when Magdalena MacLeod a plucky little Fey washes up on his shore after believing she's been shipwrecked. It's not mere fate that has brought the unlikely couple together yet it may be what tears them apart.

Branded with a golden chastity belt bearing the mark of Cernunnos, Celtic God of the Forest and Death, Alena has been on the run from her husband the Great Horned God for 200 years.

When the Olympians discover her presence on Ares' island, they send Apollo to the island while Ares is away with orders to bring her to Olympus. With nowhere to run and strikes a bargain with the God of War--her virginity for his protection.

Ares sees a sweeter deal; her in his bed and himself back in his rightful place on Olympus among the Gods. If it means turning Alena over to Zeus afterward, well that's of no consequence to him...is it?

After Alena proves herself to the God of War in battle and in his bed, Ares must choose between his Divinely Dysfunctional Family, his pride, and Alena.

Get lost in this sweeping dark saga of lust, rage, revenge, and redemption. Battle Ancient Gods while falling in love with Ares God of War and Alena MacLeod. They share a love that will rock the world from the heights of Olympus to the Celtic moors.

EXCERPT

Letting the softness of her touch and the warmth of her body comfort him, Ares closed his eyes and drew in the

peaceful shelter she offered. "It's not you. It's Them."

The Olympians were quite the Divinely Dysfunctional Family. Alena had never seen or heard so much bitter bickering from one clan. If that was her Family, she might be damn happy that she lived in Exile on a beautiful island such as this. "They're awful." She whispered in his ear careful not to let any prying ears overhear. Ares gave out a deep chuckle and then another sigh as his hand rose up to caress her arm. She thought of how brave, how daring, and even dashing, Ares had been as he stood there telling all of them they could not have her. When she listened to him speak of Artemis, Alena nearly cried. Then she had been stunned into silence having expected the God of War to hand her over, maybe not with ease but readily enough, in return for his crown and scepter. "Thank you for keeping your promise."

"You expected this chauvinistic pig to do less." Ares mused still with his eyes closed. "Everyone does."

Under her hands, beneath the thick pad of fur her fingers were twirling, Alena felt the steady beat of his heart. It too was brave and strong. "Why did you do it?"

Last night, Ares indulged himself in the pleasures Alena had to offer not in the name of any barter. Not for any affection. Just, simply, because the opportunity arose and he took it as he always did. Come morning, Ares expected that he would turn her over to the Olympians in exchange for those things so wrongfully taken from him. For all her intrigue and mystery, she was still, disposable. Unimportant. Superfluous. For centuries, all he thought about was going home and the chance finally fell into his lap, Ares thought it was a Gift from the Gods.

Yet when Zeus unknowingly presented all of them with irrefutable proof of Ares' innocence, he had the gall to make more demands upon him instead of lifting Ares' exile. It wasn't that Ares minded going to War, it was after all, his Thing. He wanted revenge for Artemis as much as much as any of them. Couldn't Zeus see that? Surely, he did, he must know this much about his Son. It was then that Ares realized none of it was about Justice, just Power. Nothing ever changed on Olympus. Standing there in the Great Chamber, Ares started wondering why he ever wanted to go back to Olympus. Why return to all of that bickering and backstabbing when he could stay on his island with her?

Last night she was expendable. Tonight that was no longer the case and he wasn't sure where the tide turned or even how it had done so. Ares understood that Vindication wasn't the Gift the Gods sent him; Alena was. With five thousand years behind him and, if all went all, another four or five thousand ahead of him, Ares was too old to mince words, too old to play stupid or coy. He wondered how much time his pretty little Fey had ahead of her. "I'd rather have one night with you here on my island than a ten thousand more nights with them on Olympus."

**

THE HEART OF WAR is available in paperback through Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/Heart-War-Lisa-Beth-Darling/dp/0615424686/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1306886813&sr=8-4

In e-book through Kindle
http://www.amazon.com/Lisa-Beth-Darling/e/B002BMDA9I/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Nook,
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/noresults?keyword=lisa+beth+darling&store=book

iBooks
http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-heart-of-war/id439988502?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

All Romance E-Books
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theheartofwar-526917-140.html

Smashwords
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/lisadarling

CHILD OF WAR-A GOD IS BORN (SEQUEL TO "HEART")

GENRE: Erotic Paranormal Drama
LENGTH: Novel-428 pgs.
HEAT LEVEL-Very Warm
SEXUAL ORIENTATION-M/F

BLURB

Do you know 'Damien'? Raven makes that kid look like an angel.

The "Of War"-series picks up in part I of this II-part sequel when Ares and Alena try to settle down on Olympus and await the birth of their son, Raven.

Haunted by prophetic visions along with a body and mind that are starting to betray her, Alena struggles to enjoy what should be a happy and blessed occasion. The relentless hostility from the other Olympians make her yearn to be back on their cozy island home, far away from all the bickering and backstabbing that makes up Life on mighty Mount Olympus.

Knowing of Zeus' unabashed hatred for Alena and the Celts, Ares becomes convinced Zeus is causing these visions and the breakdown of Alena's mind. To appease his Father, the God of Gods, Ares enters into a wicked blood pact ensuring the safety of his wife and unborn son. A pact that could cost the God of War everything he holds dear.

However, once the boy arrives, it quickly becomes clear Raven may be the most powerful and cunning Olympian ever born. Outwardly despised by Zeus for his Fey blood and his filthy Celtic mother the seeds of rage and doubt are planted in the Raven's mind by a very willing Apollo.

As Zeus, Apollo, and Aphrodite plot against the new family, bit by bit the true pasts of the Olympians and Celts comes to light, the battle begins for Raven’s mind and soul and for the ultimate control of Olympus.

EXCERPT

Before Ares could shout to his Son that was enough, a great gust of wind swirled around in the small room. It blew back his hair and then pushed against him with such force he had to fight to stand his place. Alena's beautiful gray eyes closed as her arms splayed out at her sides, one with the palm open and the other choking the staff. The point of the spear wavered in the strong wind as Raven struggled to stay pitched forward as the growing gale threatened to lift him off his knees and toss him across the room. Raven countered, his young hands glowing with an eerie blue light as they began freezing to the staff, the new ice ball growing between them. This one was twice the size of the other and if he hit her with it at this close range, Raven might well kill his mother.

Without any warning, the wind seemed to turn on Alena; it lifted her body upward from the small of her back to her shoulders, bringing her throat dangerously close to the tip of the spear. Suddenly her eyes opened to reveal only the whites. As though she could see through them, they shifted to Raven's hands and then back to his face. Amazingly, Alena's lips turned into a cold grin that fixed Raven's stare to her face while she lifted the staff and then brought it crashing down to the marble floor with such force the echo was deafening. Raven flew off her. The staff left his stunned hand, the ice ball retreated, and he hit the stones of the fire pit with such force that they shattered. Before the boy or his Father knew what was happening, Alena, her eyes still showing only the whites, was standing over Raven with her staff pointing at his throat and her foot on his heart. "Yield," she whispered as the wind whipped around them, tossing bits of dust into Ares' eyes.

Angry at having had victory snatched so cruelly from his grasp, Raven stared up her as he shielded his eyes from the biting wind. "Uncle," he spat.

It took a few moments but the wind subsided, Alena stumbled backward on unsteady feet before the whites of her eyes rolled down and she looked out at the world through those luminescent pearls of gray.

"Wow," Ares muttered, stroking his beard trying to digest everything he'd seen. Magick was not normally part of Alena and Raven's sparring routine; she was afraid to use it even though he'd tried to tell her that he could counter any damage she might do. No matter what he did he couldn't coax her into it, so magick was off-limits when they sparred. Today when Raven unexpectedly threatened her with it, Alena didn't hesitate to answer the call.

Catching her breath and feeling a wave of nausea wash over her, Alena looked down at Raven, who looked up her angry and afraid. "Are you ok?" She reached out a hand to him but Raven batted it away.

"Fine, mom." Jumping to his feet in a quick move, he brushed off the dirt and debris from his bare skin. Instead of stepping up and congratulating his mother, when she turned her back to him to look at Ares, Raven let an ice ball fly from his hand to strike her in the back of the head, splitting it open as it brought her to her knees. "Take that, you whore."

CHILD OF WAR is currently available in limited signed hard cover available only through the publisher http://www.moonsmusings.com Paperbacks will be available through Amazon.com on Halloween! Available in paperback through all of the online retailers above in mid-November. E-Books will release on Black Friday (11/25/2011)

--------To Enter the Contest--------

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Lyrical Press - What do you like to read? + Contest

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Enter to win an eBook from Lyrical Press!

***
Lyrical Press Wants to Know - What Do You Like to Read?
by Renee Rocco

As a publisher, I’m always interested in what – and how – folks like to read. Me? I love a good ol’ fashioned paranormal. Give me dark, gothic, vampire, werewolf, or ghost. I love a full moon on a chilly October night, with a heroine strong enough to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with a brooding anti-hero. How do I like to read? On my android phone, usually on either the Kindle or Aldiko app.

I hate to admit it, but when I shop for a book, I do judge a book by its cover, so that’s something very important to me. I also love a table of contents. I love to read an author’s dedication and acknowledgements. A forward? Sad to say, I usually skip over that one. Sub-headers or parts drive me batty. I like my reading experience to be clean and simple, not bogged down with stuff that will draw me away from what I crave most – a story I can get lost in. I guess I want a seamless transition from reality to the fantasy of the book. I want to be taken away from the modern world, where work and kids are a constant pull on my mind.

I think that’s why I’m drawn to paranormal. It’s so far removed from reality. I also think that’s why so many other folks like it as well. But…for every one person who is “so over” paranormal, there’s people like me who still scour every resource in our never-ending quest for that perfect vampire/were/ghost story. It’s also what makes my job as a publisher difficult sometimes.

I want to please readers. I adore you guys! Heck, I’m ONE of you. I love to read. Oh man, do I ever love to read. I read everything. Books, cereal boxes, the back of a DVD case, my shampoo label…everything. I just love words that much. I want to make you happy with the books Lyrical publishes. That’s why I’m always trying to find the best formatting, have amazing editors, and sign some seriously awesome authors. I’ve made sure I peopled Lyrical with folks who want to give our readership the best reading experience we possibly can.

So, I ask you…what genres do you want more of? What type of hero/heroin are you looking for? What can publishers do with their digital books to help give you an amazing reading experience? What front/backmatter would you like to see eliminated or added? I really want to know!

Renee Rocco
Publisher, Lyrical Press
publisher@lyricalpress.com
http://www.lyricalpress.com

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Isabel Cooper - Time-Travelling Assassin Heroine + Contest

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Enter to win one of two copies of 2 copies of No Proper Lady!

***
Time-Travelling Assassin Heroine
by Isabel Cooper

Thank you very much for hosting my ramblings!

Joan, the time-travelling assassin heroine of NO PROPER LADY, has to learn a lot of rules when she gets to Victorian England, and she doesn’t have much use for a lot of them. In some cases, I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t like to take a chaperone when I go out with a male friend and I think my head would explode if I couldn’t swear on occasion.

All the same, the more I researched the rules of Victorian etiquette, the more some of them—or at least the principles behind them—seemed like they could be useful today.
For example, a lot of etiquette comes from the desire to make the people around you feel as comfortable as possible. Victorian etiquette in particular is big on this, and there’s a reason. In the 19th century, people were living closer together, in larger numbers, than ever before. Behavior that might have been mildly irritating from someone an hour’s ride away can drive you out of your tree when it comes from the guy sitting next to you on a train.

So you don’t discuss religion or politics in casual company, because…well, because people hold very strong opinions about those things, it’s hard to change their minds, and not everyone at the party wants to participate in a debate, that’s why. You don’t talk about sex because not everyone wants to know about your personal life. You don’t mention money because not everyone makes or has the same amount, and you don’t mention gifts because then people who didn’t give you a present, or gave you a smaller present, feel bad. You don’t raise your voice or swear because that calls attention to your argument—basically roping bystanders in against their will.

And yeah, Victorian etiquette often took this too far. There are times when a spirited philosophical debate is awesome. Being open about money is an important step toward pay equity. There are times when you need to involve bystanders in your situation, and profanity’s a matter of taste. Still, I’ve been at parties where some guy’s urge to argue about the existence of God pushed aside any semblance of a good time for the rest of us, and I’ve borne awkward and unwilling witness to people’s arguments with their SOs, and nobody else has fun.

Etiquette is a construction that lets us deal with strangers more smoothly than we might otherwise—and a set of guidelines that remind us that we’re part of a wider world. Properly done, society rules are a way to say that there are people around us who have as much right to their lives as we do to ours. I like the modern era just fine, but when I end up overhearing three people’s cell phone conversations on my morning commute, or get cornered by a guy I barely know who really really wants to tell me about his ex-girlfriend…well, sometimes I think the Victorians had a point or two.

And now I must borrow a cane and tell these kids to get off my lawn.

NO PROPER LADY BY ISABEL COOPER – IN STORES SEPTEMBER 2011

It’s Terminator meets My Fair Lady in this fascinating debut of black magic and brilliant ball gowns, martial arts, and mysticism.
England, 1888. The trees are green, the birds are singing, and in 200 years demons will destroy it all. Unless Joan, a rough-around-the-edges assassin from the future, can take out the dark magician responsible. But to get close to her target she’ll need help learning how to fit into polite Victorian society to get close to her target.

Simon Grenville has his own reasons for wanting to destroy Alex Reynell. The man used to be his best friend—until his practice of the dark arts almost killed Simon’s sister. The beautiful half-naked stranger Simon meets in the woods may be the perfect instrument for his revenge. It will just take a little time to teach her the necessary etiquette and assemble a proper wardrobe. But as each day passes, Simon is less sure he wants Joan anywhere near Reynell. Because no spell in the world will save his future if she isn’t in it.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debut author Isabel Cooper lives in Boston and maintains her guise as a mild-mannered project manager working in legal publishing. She only travels through time the normal way and has never fought a demon, but she can waltz. Her next book, No Honest Woman, will be in stores in April 2011. For more information, please visit http://isabelcooper.wordpress.com.

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Cate Lord - Lucky Girl Excerpt + Contest

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Enter to win an eBook download of Lucky Girl by Cate Lord
***

About Lucky Girl
by Cate Lord

Thanks so much to Night Owl Reviews for having me here today! My fun, sexy romantic comedy Lucky Girl was released by Entangled Publishing earlier this month, and I am still trying to stop the butterflies from whirling around in my stomach. Will readers enjoy the book? Will they fall in love with my twenty-nine-year old heroine, Jessica Devlin, the hard-working American beauty editor who takes a two week vacation to fly to England to be maid-of-honor in her cousin’s wedding—and ends up crossing paths with the hot British marketing exec she never expected to see again? Without revealing too much—I personally hate spoilers—I will say my story features quirky humor, snappy dialogue, several embarrassing moments for Jess, yummy scenes with the gorgeous hero Nick Mondinello, and plenty of snogging.

Snogging? Yes. It’s a rather obscene-sounding British word that means “kissing.” Since I’m married to a Brit, snogging happens a lot in our household. It’s great fun, I tell you. J

Determined to make the most of her vacation, Jess decides she’s going to snog Nick. Here’s an excerpt from Lucky Girl that takes place after Jess finds him and the ushers decorating the wedding limo with shaving cream. When she teases that she’s going to tell on them, Nick chases her down:

Meeting his gaze, I raised my hands in mock surrender. “Okay, you got me.”

He reached out and pulled a soggy wisp of hair around in front of my eyes. “I warned you,” he murmured in an oh-so-soft voice. “Do you like to tempt danger, Jess?”

Was he asking if I was interested in him? “Always,” I said.

What are you doing? the rational part of my brain screeched, but the naughty part told it to shut the hell up.

Nick’s mouth curved into a grin before he released my hair so it brushed down past my cheek. Shaving cream dropped from the edge of his hand. The wetness cooled my neck and moistened my bodice above my breast. I didn’t care.

Oh, God, I didn’t care.

He cupped my face with a gentle hand. The potent heat of him zinged from his flesh into mine. Longing, loneliness, and desire twisted inside me in a fierce tornado. How keenly I remembered his hand smoothing over my back years ago, his warm breath upon my hair, his strong, masculine arm curved around me.

I ached for him. Ached, so badly.

Touch me, my body cried. Kiss me. Snog me.

I wanted to get drunk on the essence of Nick.

He stared at me, his focus so intense, I quivered inside. Very slowly, he rubbed his thumb over my lips. I tasted shaving cream. I tasted him.

Oh, yes, yes, yes, my body wept. Snog me now!

A trilling romantic melody floated through my mind along with a glorious fantasy—Nick’s hand sliding into my hair to capture the back of my head, his head lowering, his mouth pressing to mine. Not a quick little kiss, mind you, but a deep, slippery, tongue-tangling smooch which brought my body arching against him, while I clung to his broad shoulders, begging for more.

Oh, yes!

Anticipating the luscious taste and feel of him, I rose on tippy-toes and pressed my mouth to his.

Warm lips to warm lips. . .

Exhaling a sharp breath, he broke the contact. Stepped away.

I dropped back on my heels. Disappointment crushed my idyllic fantasy like an unlucky caterpillar. Splat!

Heat flooded my face. “Why—?”

“Jess.” His gaze shuttered before he wagged the shaving cream can. “Let’s call a truce, all right? I’ve got work to do.”

Huh? I struggled to understand. When did putting shaving cream on a car take priority over kissing? “Is that the only reason you stopped our kiss?” I asked.

“No,” he said, too damned quietly.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cate Lord is the contemporary pen name of multi‐award‐winning historical romance author Catherine Kean.  Her novels have garnered numerous acco‐lades, including two Reviewer’s Choice Awards and the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence.  Her books also finaled in the 2008 Next Generation Indie Book Awards and the 2008 National Readers’ Choice Awards. Grateful for her wildly active imagination and plenty of story ideas, Cate  is busy working on her next book.  She lives in Central Florida with her husband, daughter, and a very spoiled cat.

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Minnette Meador - Gladiator Training + Contest

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Enter to win an eBook copy of "The Gladiator Prince" by Minnette Meador!

***

The Gladiator Prince
by Minnette Meador

Thought I’d share a bit of what it was like to be trained as a volunteer gladiator in the world of The Gladiator Prince. Many elite families would send their sons to train under well-known gladiators to prepare them for life. Below is just a little peak into that world…

Phaedra fought the chill of titillation skimming down her back as she watched the golden-skinned gladiator thrust his gladius towards her younger brother Bahar. A shudder of disgust followed. Throwing a guilty glance from side to side, she pushed her long dark hair behind one ear to cover the motion. To think she could be so moved by the flex of muscles of a nearly naked slave. Worse, a gladiator. She knew better.

Her father would skin her alive had he caught her at the ludus, especially when the familia gladiatorium were out in force. She studied the forty-two men with skins in shades from pale birch to darkest black, fighting to the rhythm of each deadly blow of wooden gladii against beaten scutum, each exquisitely muscled and slick with sweat. ~ The Gladiator Prince, Chapter I

SWEAT AND BLOOD IN THE SAND – FIRST DAY (a narrative short story)

Young Markus stared for the first time at the crowd of men and boys fighting on the hot sand of the ludus. A particularly large man, maybe a Celt, maybe a Gaul, with piercing blue eyes and odd, amber-colored hair, hefted a wooden sword and tilted his head. A strange half smile contorted the right side of the giant’s face and he waved the boy to come to him. Uncertain, Markus stepped out into the sun, glancing quickly behind him to see if the medico and Lanista were still standing in the doorway. It was empty.
“Now, boy!”
The accented Latin cut through him. Glaring at him, the gladiator threw heavily muscled arms over one another in disgust. Cold chills and sweat fell down Markus’ spine, soaking the loincloth he wore, the only garment he was given after the Lanista and medico had stripped him, examined every corner of his body and flayed his nerves.

He launched more than walked toward the gladiator. Hiccups quaked in his chest fueled by fear and exhaustion.

When he came within slapping distance, the gladiator pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “What do they call you, boy?”

“M…Markus,” he blurted out.

“M…Markus. My name is Thane, but you will address me as sir or Doctores.”

Markus’ chin bobbed on its own and he could not stop his tongue. “I know who you are, sir.” The words burbled out of his mouth. “You are The Prince. I know all about you! I could not believe my luck to get you as a trainer…”
“You call it luck?” the gladiator roared and then laughed. In one step Thane’s shadow blocked out the sun. Markus’ neck ached trying to stay focused on the gladiator’s eyes. “Believe me, son. After this day, you will not consider yourself lucky.”

Markus swallowed. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

Without warning, the gladiator smacked the back of the boy’s hands with the wooden sword sending stinging needles of pain up both arms. Fumbling, he caught the suddenly airborne sword before it hit the ground.

“That is your weapon, gladiator,” Thane said, pulling a very real one out of his balteus. The highly polished bronze dazzled the young man’s eyes until he had to shield them. “One day you will fight with one of these.” That bright blue stare cut Markus to the bone. “But not today. Defend yourself.”

That night, exhausted, hungry, bruised and bloody from sandals to hair, Markus fell onto a hard cot where he fretted again about whether he would survive the next day.

Thane watched the boy from among the familia gladiatorium and had to smile, remembering his first day in the sand. He knew the boy would do well, even if the youngster did not know that himself.

THE GLADIATOR PRINCE BLURB

Prince Thane is the last surviving royalty of the Trinovantes Tribe in Roman Britannia, having surrendered to the Romans to save his two young daughters, whose identities he sacrifices his freedom to protect. He is condemned by Nero himself to become a gladiator, to fight until he dies in the arena. When his two daughters are taken in a slaver's raid, Thane escapes to find them.

Phaedra holds a terrible secret that would mean the death of her younger brother. Her only hope is to force the gladiator to protect them as they flee to Rome. He reluctantly agrees. Little does he know that the beautiful Syrian woman holds not only the key to his passion, but a secret that triggers a disaster that ignites the world. Will this spoiled willful girl betray him in the end or sacrifice herself to save them all?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Somewhere between thirty and dust...red hair, blue eyes...six kids, one slightly used husband, and any number of pets from time to time...wannabe hippie...want-their-money yuppie...pro musician and actress for 20 years...native Oregonian...lover of music, beauty, and all things green...willing slave to the venerable muse.

When she is not writing, Minnette helps teach remedial reading, writing, and math at a local elementary school. Minnette currently resides in Beaverton, Oregon with her husband, having replaced the children with five cats and one dog (there shall always be six!).

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Kathleen Scott - It Ain't Your Daddy's Sci-fi + Contest

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Enter to win the first two eBooks in Kathleen Scott's series!

***
Sci-Fi Romance: It Ain’t Your Daddy’s Sci-Fi
by Kathleen Scott

Or at least it’s not my daddy’s sci-fi. I grew up in a house with a father who had one of the largest collections of sci-fi books I’ve ever seen then side of the World Sci-fi and Fantasy Convention. Norton, Asimov, Clarke, Herbert all filled the shelves of my parents’ bedroom. With that influence was it any wonder I’d get around to writing sci-fi?

Let’s face it, I’m a natural born geek and proud of it. I was weaned on the original Star Trek series as a child. Avidly sat in front of the television to watch the first run of Battlestar Galactica starring Richard Hatch and the old Space 1999. I waited for months after the first trailers for Star Wars came out to go see the movie with my dad. There was just something about that first shot of the logo going across the screen followed by Darth Vadar turning to look over his shoulder that got me. Of course at the time we had no idea that was all the footage they had to do the trailer with—we all thought it was brilliant marketing.

All through my formative years, on through junior high, high school and college, I had a thirst for science fiction movies and television shows. Could not even get enough. I loved the escape they provided as well as the exploration of how it might be if we encountered distant worlds and strange lifeforms. However, the difference I see in those earlier shows and books as opposed to what I’m seeing now is the presence of romance.

Thank you Catherine Asaro for showing authors that you can mix science and romance together and come up with an awesome book. What a boost and inspiration she’s been to crossing the lines. See, I never understood the scoffing that accompanies the marriage of those two words/genres together. Of course, Catherine has the goods where it counts, being a PhD in chemical physics and all. (Can you tell I’m a huge fan?) So when she talks science, people listen. So, what has the fuss been about? Why do some readers object to a little romance with their science? Doesn’t everyone wish for love in their lives? Doesn’t love make the world(s) go ‘round? Love and sex is as much a biological and chemical function as an emotional one. If you look at it in that context, sci-fi and romance are a natural fit.

Given my love for science fiction—or just science in general—and it was natural for me to expand my writing into the stars. Though in all honesty I would describe my books as more space opera than science fiction. Filled with intrigues, double –crosses, family secrets and galactic alliances, the worlds in my Scicia series focus on characters and relationships as much as the rich tapestry of interstellar travel where the varying planets exist. No matter what part of the star system the story takes place you can bet someone is falling in love and overcoming great obstacles to be together. After all, isn’t that what makes a good story?

PRIVATE NEGOTIATIONS by Kathleen Scott, Liquid Silver Books

BLURB

For the past ten years, war has ravaged the planet of Scicia. The countries of Telesia and Vanden have painted the land with the blood of their people, neither side coming out the clear victor. The recent death of the Vanden Regent has brought his heir to the throne and with it a new chance for peace. That is, if the memories of an illicit love and a false identity do not derail the process first.

Vanden Regent, Loden Espacian has waited a long time to claim Rinalda D’Aubry as his bride. Four years before, on a mission to Presari Station, Loden attempted to seduce secrets from the Telesian Chancellor’s beautiful daughter. His quest failed when she did not divulge even so much as her family ties and Loden fell helplessly in love. Now, the war has taken a terrible toll on Vanden’s resources. With his country on the verge of collapse, Rinalda is within the walls of his palace as the Telesian peace emissary. The only chance for Loden to save his country is to find a way back to Rinalda’s good graces and once again win her heart.

When Sergeant Rinalda D’Aubry agreed with her father’s plan of going to Vanden as the emissary in a peace envoy, she had no idea she’d come face to face with the man she thought was lost to a wartime romance. Dreams of him have sustained her during some of her worst days and nights, fighting in a bloody war of her father’s making. The man she remembers was a common foot soldier, not the heir to the Vanden throne. Betrayed and humiliated, Rinalda vows to rise above her broken heart to save both countries from destruction, before it’s too late. But memories of their passionate love making threaten to ignite the air between them, and burn all who stand in the way.

EXCERPT:

Rinalda closed the door and tucked back inside, hurrying to grab her bag. When she turned back around, Loden waited by a secret door camouflaged as a floor to ceiling painting of some long dead dignitary cavorting with the deities.

He motioned for her. "Come. We'll go to the tarmac this way. You'll be able to move through the palace unseen by your advisor and guards."

Rinalda slipped into the space as the door closed behind them. Loden slid a bolt into place to prevent anyone following them from the other side.

"Some security measure. How does the person staying in the suite keep visitors out?"

The hidden hallway was well lit by the small square Loden held in his hand. A beam shot out, filling the darkness in daytime brightness. The area was clean and maintained as well as any of the palace rooms proper.

"You must use these passages often."

Loden took her case from her hand and started to lead the way. "When I need to.

Sometimes it's faster."

Why did that only feel like half a story? "Or you don't wish to be seen on your way to an assignation?"

He stopped, but kept his back to her. "There are women in the palace who are here for the express purpose of seeing to my carnal needs. That's no state secret."

Rinalda had a hard time swallowing. Had he been to see his women while she kept him away from her bed? She turned up the false bravado a notch or two. "It's also none of my business. I was only joking. How you use the tunnels or the women in your own palace is entirely up to you. Don't feel you need to justify it."

"I wasn't." He turned to her now, holding the light low so it didn't blind her. Really she wouldn't have minded so much. At least it would have been a good explanation for the watery eyes. "You didn't let me finish."

She looked at his uniform neck to avoid eye contact. "Let's just get to the docking point so I can leave."

"Not until you hear me out."

"All right." Having nothing more to do with her arms, she crossed them over her chest. The stance was closed, petulant and she knew it. Body language told so much about a person. Right now hers was screaming she'd rather be crawling though a bed of scorpions buck naked than have this conversation.

"I keep the women in my employ, but I don't visit them. I allow my advisors their services."

Rinalda let out the breath she was unconscious of holding. "You expect me to believe a very sexual and virile man like you hasn't engaged in relations since you left

Presari Station?"

He shook his head. "I never said that. I only said I haven't used their services since you've been here."

All right, now she really needed to walk before she gave him a right hook in the mouth. "I don't want to hear about your lovers or how practiced they may be. I took a chance with you on Presari and thought you were something you weren't. The idea you may have laughed heartily at my inexperience still stings, but I suppose I'll get over that in time." She pushed around him and started heading down the long dark corridor.

Light bobbed and bounced behind her.

His footsteps were heavy behind her. "I never laughed. Your innocence ripped my heart out. It was the sweetest gift I've ever received."

"Not enough to tell me the truth or come clean until it served your purposes to do so."

"Please don't leave angry."

She stopped and let him catch up. There was no way she'd ever know which way to go inside the labyrinth of the walls. "What's to be angry about? It's all in the past and it needs to stay there. Resurrecting the ghosts of past loves isn't going to get us out of this situation."

"It's not in the past for me."

With his final words ringing in the bare walls, they walked the rest of the way in silence. The conversation played a loop through Rinalda's mind over and over until the torment became too much. In a short while she'd be away from the palace and his women and the problems and memories. Maybe she'd be able to convince her guards to leave her with her mother in Chepora.

No, not with Reed coming to see her before the meeting in the morning. He'd tear the palace apart if he suspected foul play in her disappearance. Not out of duty or obligation, but because he believed he could.

They came to another door and Loden turned a security lock, complete with combination, thumb print and retinal scan. The door hissed open and they exited the hidden passage out onto a tarmac built into the side of the cliff. From this location, no one from the palace could see activity below. The natural scope of the landscape hid the landing pad.

Mallic waited for her at the craft, along with four armed guards and one Ashlin warrior of some distinction if the insignia on her uniform told the story.

In full view of his men, Loden dropped her bag and took her face between his large hands. Warmth from his skin seeped into her cool cheeks. "I was with other women to slack the loneliness. I never loved any of them. Only you."

Her heart beat hard against her ribs. Wind from the turbo jets of the craft, blew her hair away from her face, ripping his words away on the wind. But she'd heard them. Felt them all the way down to her core.

She said nothing—only let his confession fill the void.

He bent his head, brushing his mouth against hers. "Return to me safely, my love."

"If the Gods will it."

As soon as his lips left hers she craved his next kiss. Then she was ushered to the

craft and strapped in. Her bag was stowed in the locker by her feet. In a few short hours

she'd be with her mother again.

Gods help her.

Available now from Liquid Silver Books:

Also in the Scicia Saga: Intimate Weapons and coming soon book three, Clandestine Alliance.

-Kathleen www.MysticKat.com

Twitter: MKMancosKScott

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Erin Kellison - The Shadow series + Win a Set of Shadow Books!

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Enter to win a set of Erin Kellison's Shadow books: Shadow Bound, Shadow Fall, and Shadowman. Just answer her question below in the comments. Do leave the first bit of your email address along with your comment. To enter you must be a member of the NOR newsletter.

***

The Segue Institute, Paranormal Home Base
by Erin Kellison

First of all, thank you to Night Owl for hosting me today. Last week the third book in my Shadow series, Shadowman, released and I’m celebrating. As a thank you to everyone stopping by, one lucky commenter will receive a set of my Shadow books: Shadow Bound, Shadow Fall, and Shadowman. Just answer the question at the end.

My Shadow series has a home base of sorts—The Segue Institute. It’s dedicated to paranormal research and conveniently located in a renovated turn-of-the-century hotel. The place is haunted and includes an underground facility on the grounds that holds (and destroys) wraiths, a kind on monster once known in antiquity that has reemerged in modern times.

Segue is featured in all three of my Shadow series books as place of retreat, but not necessarily safety. Come to think of it, in each book an antagonist breaches Segue’s walls. Why do the characters keep going back? Because it’s home, and it has home field advantage.

Story-wise, Segue is rich. Because of its layers—research center, haunted throw-back, home—I can relate to characters on different levels— intellectual, nightmare, family—simultaneously.

For example, Segue founder Adam Thorne and his (fae) wife Talia make it their home while they grapple with new paranormal forces springing up in the world. It is to this place that Layla, the heroine of Shadowman is drawn—for reasons that go deeper than she could ever imagine. And it’s here that Layla will have to learn, fight, and love to get through dangers ahead.

Below is an excerpt of Layla’s first visit to Segue. And if you have time, visit Segue’s website at www.SegueInstitute.com to meet the characters and play games.

And for a chance at that set of books, tell me a favorite fictional setting of yours and why.

SHADOWMAN - EXCERPT

“Where are you taking me?”

The guard kept his square jaw shut, his ruddy face neutral and composed.

Great. Layla could see the headline: Journalist disappears in the Appalachian Mountains. The last piece with her name on it would be an obituary.

The guard tapped a code into a panel at the door, and she kept an eyeball on the pattern of his fingers. He typed fast—six digits, the first two being a five and three, the rest obscured by a sudden shift of his body.

He was definitely not buying her lost hiker story, though she had the sweaty, bedraggled ponytail to prove it. She couldn’t help it if she got lost. If she wandered onto the property of a private research facility. If she happened to shoot a photo that would’ve accompanied an article that revealed Segue for what it was.

She attempted to peek around the door before entering, but the guard none too gently nudged her inside. As expected, he closed the door on her plaintive “…but sir, I…” and locked her in.

She shrugged her backpack off, dropping it on the floor, swiveled the nearest chair out from the table, and collapsed into it. Chairs were lovely things. The long-dry film of sweat that coated her skin cracked with the movement and she caught a whiff of herself. Wow. But very lost hiker-ish.

Now a wait while they decided what to do with her.

On cue, the door clicked and opened. Thank goodness.

Layla startled to recognize Adam Thorne, the man himself, as he strode in.

She started to rise, but he waved her down, dragged a chair out from the table, and lowered himself into it. He was tall, a little too lean, and had a handsome face lined with stress and worry. Exactly how the man who bioengineered the wraith disease should look—except for the handsome part.

She sat slowly back into her chair—lost hiker—and twitched a smile onto her face. “Can you please tell me where I am? The man who escorted me to this room wouldn’t answer any of my questions.”

Thorne lifted a brow. Not buying her story either.

In the spirit of plausible deniability, she forged on: “… though naturally I am very grateful to have been found. I’d been lost for hours…”

Thorne shook his head slightly, raising a hand. “Ms. Mathews, save your breath.”

Layla closed her mouth, heart stalling. He knew her name, which she hadn’t yet given. The jig was officially up.

LINKS

Website: www.ErinKellison.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/erinkellisonauthor

Twitter: www.twitter.com/ekellison

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Shadowman-Erin-Kellison/dp/142011896X/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1295912023&sr=8-5

B and N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shadowman-erin-kellison/1102991105?ean=9781420118964&itm=3&usri=erin%2bkellison

Books-A-Million: http://www.booksamillion.com/product/9781420118964?id=4959123444020

Indie Bound: http://www.indiebound.org/book/9781420118964

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Shana Galen - Lord and Lady Spy + Contest

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Enter to win one of two copies of Lord and Lady Spy!
***

Female Spies and the Inspiration for Lord and Lady Spy
by Shana Galen

Thanks so much for having me here today, Night Owl!

Some time ago I read a book called My Lady Scandalous: The Amazing Life and Outrageous Times of Grace Dalrymple Elliott by Jo Manning. It’s a non-fiction book about a Georgian-era courtesan. I had an idea for a series about courtesans in the back of my mind, and loved reading about the life of one of the most notorious.

Little did I know, Grace’s story would inspire my book Lord and Lady Spy. Lord and Lady Spy has nothing whatsoever to do with courtesans. It’s actually a wink at the movie Mr. and Mrs. Smith with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. It’s my Regency London take on Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

As I was writing the adventure scenes and spy stuff for Lord and Lady Spy, I kept coming back to Manning’s book about Grace Elliott. You see, Grace was in Paris during the French revolution and had been the lover of the duc d’ Orleans, who was eventually guillotined.

As an Englishwoman and a known aristocratic sympathizer, Grace faced a few harrowing moments herself. She hid a man who had been a guard for the royal family under her bed mattresses during a search on her house by Revolutionary guards. She passed notes back and forth between royalists in France and England, and she even acted as a spy for the British.

Details about her work as a spy are sketchy, but it’s known that during 1790-1791, she traveled to Spa, Belgium, which was a European crossroads and a place where spies and couriers met and exchanged information. She acted as a courier for Queen Marie-Antoinette and the duc d’ Orleans.

These actions Grace took on behalf of the aristocracy were dangerous, indeed. In fact, she spent much time in Paris prisons and almost went to the guillotine herself. She was a brave woman.

Sophia, in Lord and Lady Spy, isn’t a courtesan, but she takes missions just as dangerous, if not more so, than Grace ever did. There are few accounts of female spies, and there were only a handful. On the other hand, who would expect a woman of that time to act as a spy? Perhaps being female was the perfect disguise.

I know all this researching of spies makes me wish I’d applied to the CIA. What do you think is the allure of the spy? Would you ever want a career as an operative?

LORD AND LADY SPY BY SHANA GALEN – IN STORES SEPTEMBER 2011

No man can outsmart him...

Lord Adrian Smythe may appear a perfectly boring gentleman, but he leads a thrilling life as one of England’s most preeminent spies, an identity so clandestine even his wife is unaware of it. But he isn’t the only one with secrets... She’s been outsmarting him for years...

Now that the Napoleonic wars have come to an end, daring secret agent Lady Sophia Smythe can hardly bear the thought of returning home to her tedious husband. Until she discovers in the dark of night that he’s not who she thinks he is after all...

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Shana Galen is the author of numerous fast-paced adventurous Regency historical romances, including the Rita-nominated Blackthorne’s Bride. Her books have been sold worldwide, including Japan, Brazil, Russia, Spain, Turkey, and the Netherlands, and have been featured in the Rhapsody and Doubleday Book Clubs. A former English teacher in Houston’s inner city, Shana now writes full time. She’s a wife, a mother, and an expert multi-tasker. She loves to hear from readers: visit her website at www.shanagalen.com or see what she’s up to daily on Facebook

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Jess Macallan - A Writer’s Best Friend + Contest

53 comments
Enter to win a paperback copy of STONE COLD SEDUCTION!
***

A Writer’s Best Friend
by Jess Macallan

Thank you for having me at Night Owl Romance! I’m excited to be here to celebrate the release of STONE COLD SEDUCTION, the first book in my Set in Stone series. I’ve been writing and editing like crazy these past few months. A lot of writers listen to music while writing—many even have amazing playlists for specific scenes or characters. I love listening to music, but between you and me, that’s not what gets me through a writing session.

I drink.

Just as a certain genre of music can set the tone for a fight scene, I choose a drink for the same purpose. But I have to let you in on my dirty little secret—I rarely drink alcohol. I’m allergic to some of it, and can’t get past the smell of the rest (though on occasion, I’ll indulge in a little Irish cream). I have to get creative to cope…er…write.

For intimate scenes, it’s a no-brainer. Decadent hot chocolate. No store-bought mixes for me. I make my own. I mix Dutch processed cocoa, organic sugar (yes, I’m one of those people) and a splash of vanilla extract. Add hot water or your choice of milk and voila! The perfect drink for…wait…what I was I supposed to be doing? Oh yes. Writing.

For action or fight scenes, it’s coffee all the way. It might not sound like a big deal, but for me it is. Coffee and I don’t get along. It makes me jittery and a little—okay, a lot--aggressive. Which is why it’s the perfect addition to a fight scene. When I drink coffee, chances are one of my characters will die. However, if I add Irish cream or chocolate, it means a character might only get roughed up a little. Irish cream and chocolate are my happy mediums.

If I’m trying to slog through dialogue, I stick with tea. I prefer green, but if I’m feeling saucy I try oolong, white or a black vanilla. Yes, I’m a writer who lives life on the edge. *waggles eyebrows*

I’m so serious about my hot drinks, I even have special mugs I use when writing. My favorite has the phrase “Trust the process” on the side. Paired with hot chocolate, it’s the perfect reminder to stop overthinking a scene, sip my drink and trust the creative process. Then my mantra turns into “drink and write.”

The right beverage is an essential part of my writing routine. I engage all of my senses if possible—aromatherapy (I love candles), music of any kind, and a delicious drink. My muse is happiest when it’s a full sensory experience. The perfect scent, sound, taste and atmosphere can do wonders for the creative flow.

Do you have a favorite drink to sip while reading a new book?

Drinking is a writer’s or reader’s best friend. I consumed so much hot chocolate during the writing process I should have dedicated my first book to it. Fortunately, it was worth it. I’m happy to share STONE COLD SEDUCTION with everyone, and I hope you enjoy it. Thanks again for having me at Night Owl Reviews! You can learn more about me at www.JessMacallan.com | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads.

Happy drinking and reading!

Jess

THE SEXY EXCERPT

“You are my true mate.”

My lips were still tingling, and my brain was fuzzy. “Jax, I’m not sure what that means.”

He didn’t answer, but instead pressed a kiss to my temple. And another to my cheek.

Slowly, he nuzzled his way to my neck. I let my head drop to one side, giving him better access.

He whispered his approval, and lightly nipped at my neck. “It is a connection between souls. A bond determined by fate. I will show you what it means.”

His lips and tongue were doing a slow, erotic dance along the oh-so-sensitive skin down my neck, and coherent thought was impossible. He could show me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop.

I sighed, and Jax took that as acceptance. Before I knew what he was going to do, he’d scooped me up and was halfway up the stairs.

“Jax!” I yelped.

He stopped, but his muscles were vibrating with energy. He waited until he had my full attention before repeating, “I will show you. We are mates, connected in ways you and the phoenix will never be.”

His silver eyes were bright and intense. I could admit to having had many, many fantasies where he’d carried me upstairs, and all sorts of amazing things had happened. But this was real. And he was dead serious. It scared me, thrilled me, and seriously confused me.

When I didn’t respond, he lowered my feet to the floor and pressed me up against the wall in the narrow stairwell. His eyes held mine as he leaned close. “I will show you, so there are no doubts.”

Then he kissed me again, and this time, he held nothing back. Possession, need, and barely leashed control. Jax’s mouth told me more than words ever could. He leaned against me so our bodies were in full contact. Need burned through me. His taste, his touch, drowned out my worries. His scent surrounded me. He smelled crisp and clean. Like a sunny, winter day. But the heat he created inside me was intense. Just like the man himself

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Em Petrova - If All Else Fails, Get Obsessed + Contest

29 comments
Enter to win an eBook copy of Runestone - Book Three of the Immortal Series!

***
If All Else Fails, Get Obsessed
By Em Petrova

When I was eight, I was obsessed with Barbie, rainbows, and Cabbage Patch Kids. Then in high school, I discovered writing, and immersed myself in my stories and the lives of my characters. Soon I found that if I wheedled into my characters' psyches, I could uncover their obsessions too. A girl who washes her hands three hundred times a day, a man who has a penchant for ladies heels.

Adding these layers into a character give her three dimensions. Most people can identify with a woman who is obsessed with her affair with her new boss, but they can't relate to a perfect Stepford paper doll.

In my latest release in the Immortal Series RUNESTONE, my heroine is an immortal recovering from a cocaine addiction, and she's inconsolable at the thought that her mortal lover Sean might suffer a tragedy and be torn from her. Sean is obsessed with keeping her safe and happy when their mutual lover (yes, this is a ménage!) Will goes missing. And her immortal mate Will is consumed with the need to protect the people he loves from danger even when his physical well-being is affected by their absence.

Besides writing, I'm obsessed with Staples, an office supply superstore here in the US. I've spent so much money on paper, pens, clippies, and printer ink that they've given me a personal account manager, and upped the rewards I can receive. I'll say it. My name is Em, and I'm an office supply addict. My desk is littered with composition notebooks and folders, cute paperclips and a vast array of Sharpie Markers. When I step into the store, my brain releases endorphins, and my feet start moving of their own accord toward the “special of the week” display.

What obsessions do you have? I'd love to hear them. Leave a comment to win a copy of Runestone-Book Three of the Immortal Series. Keep reading for a hot excerpt.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Em Petrova lives in backwoods Pennsylvania, where she raises four kids and two feral kittens and pays too damn much for utilities. But seeing her sexy husband tromp out back with a chainsaw in hand is well worth the frustration of living miles from a mall. She adores writing sex scenes and anything paranormal. When she has the opportunity to mix the two, she's in her element. You can learn more about her smutty reads at www.empetrova.com.

BOOK VIDEO

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XpT5W42OgSU

BLURB

When Sean Livingston asks his immortal beloved, Evangeline to elope with him, not only does it alienate her from her immortal mate Will, but sets off a series of life-altering events. Pulled from Will--the one man she needs more than air--Evangeline is desperate to find ease from the impending madness the separation will cause her. With the help of their immortal friends, they discover her tattoo contains a map leading them to Will. While Will battles an army hell-bent to annihilate ancient immortals, he unearths new passion in the arms of a dashing Saxon warrior as together they fight to destroy the evil cell and reunite Will with his mate and lover of his heart.

EXCERPT

“When are you going to tell her?” Will Cochran leaned against the granite kitchen countertop, ankles crossed, muscular thighs straining against his jeans, and his arms folded so his biceps flexed beneath his fitted shirt. His stance appeared casual, but Sean knew better.

Across the room, he met Will's level gaze. “Soon. She's not going to be happy.” He jammed a hand through his hair. Keeping his and Will's mutual lover, Evangeline, from knowing that he'd been summoned to America by his art dealer was misery. Being immortal, she was fiercely protective of his mortal flesh, and had confessed her terror that tragedy would befall him, and neither she nor Will, her immortal mate, would be around to Make him immortal too.

Yet, they refused to change him.

Sean opened his mouth to argue this point, but Will guessed what he was about to say. He held up a broad palm to silence Sean. “You know it's out of the question, man.”

After throwing a glance at the kitchen doorway to ensure Evangeline wasn't standing there to overhear, Sean dug in for battle. “My mortality is like quicksand, ready to pull me under any moment. She's afraid of losing me. This is the only answer.”

Will shook his head. Auburn hair tumbled onto one smoldering brown eye and he knuckled it away. “We've discussed this. We can't do it. Why do you want to upset a perfect situation?”

Sean slashed the air with a hand. Irritation burned in his chest, but so did fear. Fear that he'd be involved in a fatal accident on the twisting Argentinean roads, or be bitten by a poisonous snake while trekking through the wilds, and leave Evangeline truly devastated. They had a special connection--a connection akin to the immortal Calling. Her soul had chosen Will as immortal mate, but her heart and head had refused to let Sean go.

“I could go to Los Angeles for this trip and be a drive-by shooting victim. How would Evangeline handle that?”

A sharp puff of breath burst from Will as if Sean had struck him in the gut. His mouth twisted in pain, and he pulled away from the counter and crossed the room to Sean. Honestly, Sean lived for this man as much as he lived for Evangeline. Both of them would be stricken by his loss.

All the more reason to share their immortal blood.

Will stopped inches away, and his masculine scent filled Sean's head. “Nothing's going to happen to you, Livingston. Got that? Because Evangeline needs you. I need you. Now let's deal with the real question here, and that is when are you going to tell her about your trip?”

“I said soon, dammit,” he snapped. He swung away and strode for the brand new industrial coffee maker. Their villa was still in construction phase, but the kitchen had been one of the first rooms to be completed. It was tricked out in top-of-the-line appliances and the latest gadgets. Since Evangeline was a coffee connoisseur, they'd spared no expense on this contraption.

But only Sean knew how to brew her favorite drink. He measured a precise amount of coffee beans, put them through the grinder, and then dumped them into the machine and added purified water. He could hear Will's noisy, irritated breathing, but ignored it. Let him churn a little at the thought of Sean leaving, of dealing with Evangeline's hysterics. For the past six months they'd cohabitated, she had grown increasingly more nervous about Sean being parted from her, and now wouldn't let him leave the house without her or Will.

Down the hall, a door shut, and he knew his beautiful lover had finally awakened. While the upper floor of the villa was being finished, the three of them were sharing a smaller guest room downstairs.

“Either tell her or lose the attitude until you're ready, Sean.”

He fixed Will in his stare. “I will,” he said through his clenched jaw. In minutes, she would walk into the kitchen, following the smell of fresh coffee, her hair mussed, and a sleepy smile on her face. Would she sense the tension humming between him and Will?

As he stared at the rich dark brew filling the glass pot, he struggled to think of a way to break it to her. His agent needed him. A big show. Better for him to appear in person. Huge group of collectors present. A lot of money on the line.

After he'd chased Evangeline to South America to save her from that sick kidnapper Marcus, he'd abandoned his career as a deejay and taken up his art full time. A few months before, the three of them had returned to America to close up his apartment and sell a few pieces of art to an important Chicago gallery owner, who had immediately contacted his colleague, an influential L.A. dealer.

“Got a grip, Sean? 'Cause she's coming.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He reached into an upper cupboard and withdrew Evangeline's favorite mug.

“Let's talk about the construction crew.” Will's voice was pitched low, and a shiver of need ran through Sean. His dusky tone drew Sean into the memories of their encounters in bed.

Hardly a day passed that the three of them didn't make love. With the extra person in their lives, they continually came up with new configurations. He didn't think they'd ever recreated the same session.

BUY LINK

http://www.eredsage.com/store/Runestone.html

Em Petrova
~where words mean so much more~

http://www.empetrova.com

Skin Truth: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9525-skin-truth.aspx

Deux: http://www.breathlesspress.org/Book/305

Trois: http://www.breathlesspress.org/Book/290

Tattoo Dream: http://www.breathlesspress.org/Book/273

Silk: http://www.breathlesspress.org/Book/356

The Tempest: http://tiny.cc/78ydb

Runes: http://tiny.cc/rh5yl

Trefoil: http://www.eredsage.com/store/product859.html

Runestone: http://www.eredsage.com/store/Runestone.html

Forbidden: http://www.eredsage.com/store/Forbidden.html

Market Place: http://tiny.cc/l1gch

Bound for Romance: http://tiny.cc/k7huy

My Sexy Valentine: http://tiny.cc/2w5ea

Isolde's Wish: http://www.loose-id.com/Isoldes-Wish.aspx

ENTER THE CONTEST

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