Guest Starring... Elizabeth Morgan!

Cranberry Blood

(Book 1 in The Blood Series)

by Elizabeth Morgan

Cranberry Blood is the first book in The Blood Series and the sequel to last year’s release, She-Wolf (The Blood Series Prequel.)

Now, for those of you who are new to the series, it doesn’t matter if you have read She-Wolf, you can read Cranberry Blood first. Yeah, I mean it, the events in She-Wolf are linked to Cranberry Blood, but book one isn’t dependent on its prequel.

The order in which you read these two books is completely your choice, either way, welcome to the world of The Blood Series.

~ * ~

Blurb:

Killing Vampires? Easy. Tracking someone? Simple. Helping, and protecting a Vampire slayer... Bloody hard work!

Thirteen years ago, Brendan Daniels made a deal with a psychic. In exchange for information on the whereabouts of a Rogue Werewolf, he promised to help and protect Sofia's granddaughter. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he was getting himself, or his Pack, into.

Nothing about Heather is simple, from her weird dietary needs to her life’s mission. The girl can handle herself, but the promise to protect her soon becomes a need, and one that he can't fully understand.

Vampire Slayer. Born Infected. Blood addict... but not by choice.

Heather Ryan is the most recent slayer in a long family line. Like all before her, she has spent her life searching for her ancestor, Marko Pavel, the Vampire her family has sworn to kill. If that isn't complicated enough, Heather is also a born "Infected", and to keep her from becoming insane or giving in to her darker side, she is on a very strict diet.

Grandmother Sofia has passed, so now it is up to Heather to take the family legacy into her own hands, all alone: or at least, it would have been, if her Grandmother hadn't sent a Werewolf to help her.

What is the irritating Brendan supposed to help Heather with? Sofia never told either one of them. But it doesn't take long for Heather and Brendan to find out that the Vampires have big plans, and that the fiends have waited a long time for them both.

Buy Link: https://www.nobleromance.com/

~ * ~

Excerpt:


(Taken from Chapter One)

The sudden sound of rustling paper snapped me from my thoughts. I tensed, the awareness crackling sharply beneath the surface of my skin.

Someone is in my house.

I walked through the open living room door. A new scent invaded my nostrils. Tangy, manufactured, smelled like expensive cologne. An unfamiliar, black, travel bag sat tucked away between the red leather sofa and TV stand. The papers rustled again. I stepped lightly toward the archway that lead into the dining room, my sword still gripped comfortably in my right hand.

"Your breakfast is getting cold, Heather. I suggest you stop trying to sneak in here and just come in so that we can get this over and done with," said the deep male voice in my kitchen.

What the hell is going on? Who is he? Why is he in my house? How does he know my name? And why the hell has he cooked me breakfast?

I took a deep breath, then exhaled. I slowly walked through the archway into the empty dining room and turned my head to the left to see a strange man seated at my kitchen breakfast bar. He sat casually, in jeans and a forest green T-shirt that clung to his broad, sculptured back and defined biceps. The sun flooded into the kitchen through the side window and glinted off his copper-blond hair, which brushed his shoulders.

"Are you going to come in to the room or stand there drooling all day?" He turned a page of his newspaper.

I inhaled again; nothing new amongst the scent of dog, pine, bacon, and coffee, which meant he wasn't a Vampire. I knew because leeches smelled like mouldy, wet earth; not an overpowering smell, but hidden underneath the products they wore. A huge part of me felt relieved he wasn't a Vamp. A Vampire couldn’t get in here, anyway. They could only come in with a personal invite, and since they all wanted me dead . . . . No matter what state I'd been in last night, I wouldn't have invited one in. So, who the hell is this guy?

I walked toward him, my sword glinting in the sunlight as I gripped the hilt firmly in both hands.

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?" I stopped three feet behind him.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"Wrong answer." I pressed the tip of my sword into the firm space between his shoulder blades. "I said who the hell are you and what—"

"Killing me isn't going to help." He turned another page of his paper.

"I disagree. I think killing the stranger who broke into my house is a very good idea."

"I did not break in," he replied calmly. "My name is Brendan and I'm actually here to help you."

I snorted. "Like I believe that."

"It's the truth. Besides, if I really wanted to hurt you, I would have. I also wouldn't have left your weapons with you."

"Well, you're obviously an eejit."

He laughed. "You have serious trust issues."

"Trust issues? Says the complete stranger who broke into my house and—"

"I used your house keys. They were in your jacket pocket," he said. "And yes, trust issues, says the stranger. The stranger who promises he isn't here to hurt you."

"Just because you say you're not here to hurt me doesn't mean it's the truth."

"True. But why go to the trouble of killing you when I could have left you lying in the car park the other night and let the seven greedy leeches looking for you find you and bleed you dry."


~ * ~

Giveaway Information:

Elizabeth is giving away one copy of Cranberry Blood (Book 1 in The Blood Series) to one lucky commenter. Yes, all you have to do is leave her a comment – with your email address - and you can be in with a chance of winning.

Competition ends on July 14th at midnight – 6pm est time. Winner will be chosen with the help of Random.org and emailed by Elizabeth.

~ * ~

Bio:

Elizabeth started life wanting to be an actress because she loved entertaining people. She enjoyed nothing more than being able to make people laugh and to help distract them from reality for a few hours.

She studied Musical Theatre in college, but during her second year, her mind started to overflow with story ideas, so she began writing plays. Slowly, over the following three years, she was writing more and more, channeling every ounce of her imagination into the written word.

Now here she is, years later, hiding away like a hermit in her little cottage in Cheshire, England, writing like crazy and loving every minute of it.

~ * ~

Elizabeth Online:

Blog: http://www.xxxxmyworldxxxx.blogspot.com/

Joint Blog: http://www.notjustastiffupperlip.blogspot.co.uk/

Facebook: Elizabeth Morgan

The Blood Series Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/TheBloodSeries

Twitter: @EMorgan2010

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/ElizabethMorgan

Amazon Page: http://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-Morgan/e/B006WR1WLQ/ref=sr_tc_2_rm?qid=1339876094&sr=1-2-ent

Release Blitz! "Pete and Samantha's Guide to Seasonal Sex" Makes a Steamy Debut

Pete and Samantha's Guide To Seasonal Sex - your one stop shop for everything you want to know about seasonal adult activities. As well as spring themed erotic stories, and seasonal adult articles!



This is THE guide you need to read, whether you are a girl, a boy, or both! Written by the world renowned erotic writer Peter Birch, Samantha J Hall, with editing by erotic author Nicky Raven, this new quarterly seasonal adult guide is sure to enlighten, amaze and entertain you through the fresh spring months.


Formatted and digitally published globally by erotica book imprint House Of Erotica.


Available from:


All Romance E-books


Amazon (UK)


Amazon


Barnes and Noble


Sony E-bookstore


Giving It Up For Lent


A Beginner’s Guide To Tease And Denial.


Lent is upon us and having used up the last reserves of fats and meats on Shrove Tuesday, good Christians are fasting and turning their backs on luxuries in the name of penitence. Self-denial during lent seems to have transcended the Christian faith and become a cultural period of moderation, inspiring people to give up vices which may be bad for them in excess, such as chocolate or alcohol.

The voluntary denial of pleasure seems to be ingrained in human behaviour, people stick to bizarrely restrictive diets when trying to lose weight, when merely cutting down on calories and going for a jog in the morning would achieve more or less that same result. It is as if we feel the self-imposed, often fairly torturous (remember the cabbage soup diet anyone?) limitations will somehow make up for having over indulged in the first place and magically alter the laws of biology so that the excess weight will be cancelled out by the misery.


Perhaps in some cases people get a kick out of self-denial too, enjoying the victory of willpower over temptation, having the chance to feel good about themselves having given up sweeties for 40 days, and maybe a little justified when they pig out on Easter eggs as soon as lent is over. Delayed satisfaction can be a pleasure in itself, the first glass of wine after 40 days abstinence is always going to hold a higher value and therefore be perceived as more pleasurable than the glass of wine had with dinner every day for the rest of the year. People like to feel they have earned something, be it the Friday evening pint after a hard working week or the huge Sunday roast after a period of dieting, the pleasure is always going to be greater for the perception of it being a ‘reward’.


It comes as no surprise then that people have managed to erotize denial. At first it seems like a bizarre concept, to gain sexual pleasure from the denial or restriction of sexual pleasure. It looks like an entirely counterproductive exercise, however it is a surprisingly common fetish, enjoyed by women and men of all persuasions. Denial is such a popular sexual theme in fact that there is a whole range of toys and devices designed to help people keep their partner from touching where they have been told not to, many selling for upwards of £100. There are multiple websites devoted entirely to the discussion of sexual denial and ‘key-holding’- where someone keeps the key to another person’s locked chastity device to prevent them taking it off without permission and this ‘service’ is popular with clients of professional dominatrices as well as between lovers.


Erotic sexual control takes place in many ways. Some people like to play with ‘tease and denial’ or ‘tie and tease’ in which one partner is deliberately turned on, touched, stroked and tormented, sometimes while restrained, but denied the ultimate release until the ‘dominant’ partner decides orgasm has been delayed long enough. This is perhaps the easiest aspect of denial to understand, there is pleasure to be had in the torment, a bit like extended foreplay. The ‘Dominant’ partner pays a lot of attention to the ‘submissive’ partner, spending a lot of time arousing them, turning them on. If this foreplay goes on a little longer than is comfortable it just adds to the pleasure when it comes. Being kept on the edge of orgasm for a period of time can intensify the sensation of orgasm when it does happen. The waiting, and perhaps begging and pleading can make the coveted release that much sweeter.

A Note From Indigo:

It's always a pleasure to introduce my fans to a hot new read. I'll be reviewing "Pete and Samantha's Guide to Seasonal Sex" this month on my blog. I've just received my advance copy today, and can't wait to read it!  Sometimes, doing research is the best part of my job. I'm not one for delayed gratification, so I'll be starting straight away and passing along my review as soon as I finish up. Until we meet again, stay naughty- it's so much more fun than being nice!

Typing with Sticky Fingers,

Indigo Skye



Guest Starring... Slave Nano!

How ‘Alice in Wonderland’ inspired the book...


On this week’s part of my two week blog tour to promote my new book, ‘Alice in Fetishland’ I’m talking about how the classic ‘Alice in Wonderland‘ and ‘Alice Through the Looking Glass’ books inspired my own bdsm/fetish re-imagining of them.


The ‘Alice’ books provide great material for a bdsm re-working. For starters, they are one of those rare works where the characters are so well known and recognised that your readers will understand the references. They have become ingrained in our collective consciousness, not just through Lewis Caroll’s original stories and Sir John Tenniel’s iconic illustrations but also through numerous film and television re-interpretations. Who hasn’t heard of Alice, the White Rabbit or the Red Queen?


Although conceived as children’s books they have a dark underbelly to them, which many artists and illustrators have drawn out, and this lends itself to the creation of an alternative bdsm/fetish world. Many of the characters have a nightmarish quality about them and this was an atmosphere I wanted to capture in my book.


In my version Alice becomes the main character, Kim. The Red Queen is, well, the Red Queen, but a version of her you would not have seen before. She is a red and black PVC clad dominatrix who rules over Nemesisland, a fetish fantasy world of her own creation appearing throughout the book in numerous guises and costumes. The developing relationship between Kim and The Red Queen and her journey into submission forms the heart of the narrative of the story.


The Red Queen also has The Duchess, her transvestite lady-in-waiting and companion. The Cheshire Cat becomes the black cat, who acts as a guide to Kim through the strange world she finds herself in and also relates the back-story that explains why she has been selected and brought to serve The Red Queen. The White Rabbit, the Hatter, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, the Caterpillar, the Walrus and the Carpenter and the Lion and the Unicorn all make an appearance in the book.


Like Alice, in this version of the tale, Kim also has a lot of adventures but of a bdsm and fetish kind. The book contains scenes of bondage, cock and ball torture, nipple torture, corporal punishment, electrical play, wax play, medical play, breath play, strap-on play and cling film mummification, so there are some quite descriptive BDSM scenes in there. Kim becomes a willing and enthusiastic partner as the Red Queen torments her into submission. But Kim is somebody special to the Red Queen and there is a much deeper purpose behind her being brought to serve her.


Story blurb


In this bdsm re-invention of the Alice stories Kim’s life takes an unexpected twist when she is taken from the massage parlour she works in to a fetish fantasy world ruled over by the Red Queen, a powerful dominatrix. There, an intense psychological drama is played out between the two women as Kim enters a journey into submission. The Red Queen assumes different characters who torment Kim in a series of trials ranging from the funny and strange to the sadistic and erotic. Kim is lured deeper into this world by hints the Red Queen knows something about her past. Why has she been chosen to serve this powerful female? Why is the Red Queen so interested in her? When Kim finally finds out the truth, it is shocking and bizarre.


Buy links


Adventures in Fetishland is available at:


Xcite Books: http://www.xcitebooks.co.uk/Book/7029/Adventures-in-Fetishland.html


Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B007MPYV3I/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lucyfelthouse-21&linkCode=as2&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B007MPYV3I


Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B007MPYV3I/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=lucyfelt-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B007MPYV3I

Excerpt from Adventures in Fetishland...

“She looks tasty,” announced the walrus.

“Yes, very tasty,” echoed the carpenter.

“Do you think she’ll come and play with us?”

“It doesn’t look as though she has any choice walrus. She has been offered up for us,” replied the carpenter, who started massaging Kim’s tits through the crisp cotton pinafore dress.

“I think we should have some fun,” said the carpenter as his fingers disappeared under the dress to explore Kim’s cunt.

“Oh, definitely yes.”

The walrus’s fat fingers were running down Kim’s mound seeking out her hole as the carpenter unbuttoned the top of the dress to expose her lovely breasts for more attention and started to rub and knead her nipples. Kim began to purr with the attention. She couldn’t help it, it was an instinctive reaction. She might have felt violated but she didn’t. She had too much experience for that and besides, she had so let herself go into the spirit of Nemesisland that nothing really shocked her any more. She gasped. The walrus had found her sex and slipped a finger inside it and was massaging the inside of her cunt with a twisting motion. Shit, thought Kim, that feels good. Her cunt was sopping wet. It just responded instantly to stimulation in that way. Kim put it down to the years working in the massage parlour where she had to be in a constant state of readiness. Kim groaned. Another finger had been thrust into her cunt and the carpenter was tweaking her tender nipples between thumb and finger. The walrus pulled out his fingers and held them to his nose.

“She smells of oysters,” he announced.

“Oh, that’s our favourite,” said the carpenter.

Oysters, thought Kim, what a cheek!

“Here, have a taste of her,” said the walrus stretching his hand out to the carpenter.

He hungrily sucked Kim’s cunt juices off the walrus’s fingers.

“Very tasty. I’ve always said, you can’t beat the smell and taste of oysters. Are you going to eat her up?”

“Oh yeah,” said the walrus.

“Well don’t eat her all up. Save some of her juices for me. I know how greedy you are.”

“Me, greedy? You’re just as greedy.”

Author profile

Slave Nano writes stories drawing on the themes of female supremacy, goddess worship, bondage, domination and submission, sado-masochism and fetish, frequently in fantasy, paranormal or historical settings.

His work usually has dominant female characters and submissive males. His stories explore the tensions between dominant and submissive and the boundaries between pain and pleasure, physical and mental bondage and retribution and reward.

Slave Nano lives in Yorkshire in the United Kingdom. He works full time and juggles his writing with this. His work has been published by Xcite Books and House of Erotica.

Find out more about Slave Nano at www.slavenano.co.uk

Nano facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100002876113960&ref=tn_tnmn

Congratulations! Blisse Kiss with Heart Winners Announced

Congratulations to all the readers who commented on my Blisse Kiss with Heart post. Each lucky winner will receive a copy of my e-book, Her Captive Muse. Enjoy this steamy read!

I'll also be forwarding everyone a copy of my original short story, "Cherry-Boy," the tantalizing tale of a young man's first time. Sweet and sexy!

A big thank you to Victoria Blisse for the opportunity to participate in Blisse Kiss with Heart. I'm happy to join in the fun- it's sure to be a good time when Miss Blisse is involved!

Winners, watch your inboxes. I'll be emailing you with prize details today!

Typing with Sticky Fingers,

Indigo Skye

Blisse Kiss With Heart Giveaway

I'm returning to the blogosphere with a fabulous giveaway for my readers. This week, I'm participating in Blisse Kiss With Heart, the brainchild of Victoria Blisse. She's asking authors to post up kissing scenes from their hottest fiction and offer prizes for readers. Here's the kicker- each excerpt you read during Blisse Kiss With Heart is taken from a book which donates some of the proceeds to charity. 

My story, "True Confession," was included in Lucy Felthouse's short erotica collection, Uniform Behaviour. This project donates a portion of all sales to the UK charity, Help For Heroes. I'm proud to participate in this worthy event- and I'm in great company. Check Victoria's site here for more fantastic fiction from today's hottest authors, and win some great prizes!

I'll be giving away copies of my first novel, Her Captive Muse, to anyone who comments on my posted excerpt. Don't forget to include your email address so I can get in touch with the lucky winners! I'll also be giving three lucky winners a copy of my short story, Cherry-Boy. To enter, just comment on this post! I will distribute prizes on March 31st, so watch my blog for details.

Excerpt from "True Confession"
By Indigo Skye


I hear the sound of Father Matthew's footsteps, hurrying up the stairs behind me. He grabs my arm too tight. "You're putting me in an impossible position," he says fiercely.



"Impossible positions? If you wanna talk dirty, let's go back to my place," I tease, making him laugh.

 "I can't stop myself from having impure thoughts about you. Even in my dreams, you tempt me," he confesses.


"That's what I do best," I grin. He tries to resist; I up the ante. Tempting him further, I press against him, giving him a teasing little kiss. I lean close, arching against him in the narrow stairwell. He moans when I slip my tongue into his mouth. I feel the hard length of his cock through the fabric of my trench-coat, pressing urgently against me.


I unbutton my coat slowly. "I have a surprise for you," I grin, revealing a sexy little Catholic school-girl uniform- a white blouse and my rosary; my St. Columba's sweater and a plaid skirt; come-fuck-me heels.


"I'm a bad girl," I purr, dropping my coat to the floor. "I need a spanking. Punish me..."


"Why?" he asks. "You look like a good girl to me."


"I'm a sinner... and I have a confession to make." I drop my little black sweater at his feet. He cups my left breast, moaning.


"Tell me more..." he says, with a naughty grin.


"I have sexy dreams about you. I touch myself and pretend that you're watching me. I think about fucking you all the time," I whisper, unzipping his fly.


"You should pray for forgiveness," he whispers.


"You might be right about that." Smiling wickedly, I lead Matthew to the top of the stairs and kneel before him. "Bless us O Lord, and these, thy gifts, which we are about to receive…and receive again…" I murmur, worshipping his cock with my tongue.

Guest Starring... Elizabeth Kyne!

Indigo Skye: Ink and Art

Welcomes Author Elizabeth Kyne

Today, I'm thrilled to host author Elizabeth Kyne. This dynamic writer trained to be a radio journalist and spent her early working years reading news bulletins and writing for magazines. Later, after learning the meaning of “mortgage” and “gas bill”, she decided to do the sensible thing and drop the freelance lifestyle to get a proper job. The job, however, all went horribly wrong and she returned to her first love of writing, and worked on several novels before finding success with If Wishes Were Husbands.

Congratulations on your success, Elizabeth. Wishing you all the best on your blog tour! We at Indigo Skye: Ink and Art salute you for having the courage to truly pursue your dreams. (What could be more romantic than that?) Cheers to you!

The fabulous Ms. Kyne is here today to dish the dirt about why she took the ultimate risk and ditched her day job in pursuit of her dreams. She's written a piece for Indigo Skye: Ink and Art that I think my readers will enjoy. It certainly inspired me!

WHY I GAVE UP THE DAY JOB

Author Elizabeth Kyne admits doing the one thing writers are urged not to do


Here’s a piece of advice editors give to writers when they sell their first novel: “don’t give up the day job”. It’s an entirely sensible piece of advice, one that is repeated often, which has many plaudits, and with which I agree wholeheartedly. Even though I didn’t actually follow the advice myself.


For most people, jobs are good things. They bring us income, a purpose, certainty, colleagues, something to get up for in the morning, a routine, and doubtless many more advantageous attributes. (They can also bring infuriating bosses, refused leave requests, impossible deadlines, long and frustrating commutes… and all the rest of it: but let’s stick to the good things for now). For some, especially in these tough economic times, a job is not something to “have”, like one might have a packet of biscuits, but something to strive for. A friend of mine, last year, finally got a job after two years of unemployment, and I am so thrilled for him, it’s great news and something which I have great admiration for.


I have a job. Well, sort of. I had a job, really. It was a full time thing with all the stuff that I mentioned above. In theory, it should have been great. I planned for it to be great. I loved how it allowed me to pay the mortgage every month, book a holiday and actually take it, strive for career progression and all the rest of it. But at the same time, it was all rather “normal”. I’ve never really done normal. I’m the sort of person who had three earrings put in one ear and dyed my hair red purely because I wanted to show that I was different. (Rather annoyingly, everyone seems to be dying their hair red these days, so I’m seriously thinking about going back to brown). I was a grown up, I told myself, and a job is one of the things that a grown up should have.


There was one teensy, weensy thing that I could never quite come to terms with. Having a job, it seemed, took away a certain amount of control over my own life. This was rather awkward. I mean, back when I was a freelance writer for magazines, I would decide what I wanted to write about, ring the editor and, if they agreed, I produced an article about that subject. I admit, there were things that were out of my control, like layout of the article or editing of my work and – in one unfortunate case – the publisher deciding to close the magazine, but in general I was the boss of me. I quite liked being the boss of me. I was reasonably demanding, but I was also quite forgiving and I liked that about myself.


For a while, my regular job was sort of like that. Until one major project which I worked damned hard over. I rather over-worked myself, if truth be known, but I understood there was a budget and resource issues and I really wanted to get it done, so I bloomin’ well did it. Then, at the end of it, the bosses decided that they didn’t want me to do it anymore, snapped their fingers and threw me back to the pit from which I’d crawled. I still had a “job”, they still paid me, but all that effort was for nothing. I was, to say the least, a bit miffed. I mean, I’m quite prepared to try and fail, but when I’m doing it on someone else’s terms – and they change those terms on a whim – it’s rather demoralising.


As I continued to work that job, I longed for days of yore back when I was my own boss. And, let’s be truthful, when I was back writing. Putting everything into a job is fine, but if your job does not appreciate it, you start to reconsider. I started to reconsider. What was I doing there if I wasn’t getting anything out of it anymore? It was a good question.


There was one thing I was getting out of it, of course: a salary. This is, I have to admit, quite a useful thing to have. If a job has nothing else going for it, then a salary will go a pretty long way to creating a silver lining. A sensible person, of course, would simply go and get another job. This happens all the time with normal people, I’m told. They spend some time at one job and, when it ceases to inspire them to get up in the morning, they look around for another job. But, as stated above, I am neither normal nor sensible.


So, I jacked it in. Well, sort of. I half jacked it in. In actual fact, I went part time; initially one day per week and, eventually, two days per week. It kept a little bit of money coming in while I pursued my new career as a novelist.


Bonkers!


Barmy!


An apple short of a fruit salad!


But I did it. Because I couldn’t stand working in a job where I wasn’t appreciated anymore, and would always be wondering “what if…?”.


The point is, no one should give up the day job to become a writer because it is such a precarious profession. You may hit the big time like JK Rowling or you may never get published. You may sell one book, but there’s no guarantee you will sell the second or third, and even then the advance may not be enough to pay the bills.


But, for me, all the sensible advice in the world wasn’t going to stop me. If I had been able to write a novel while I was still working at that job, I would have done. I have great admiration for writers who do this, and some of them do it while bringing up a young family at the same time (when do they sleep?). I am not that sort of person. I am absorbed by one thing or another. If I gave my all to my writing, I would not be giving value for money at my job, and vice versa.


So, I had an opportunity to change my life and I decided to go for it – despite the fact that it was a mad idea. I mean, seriously, don’t try this at home kids. There’s a lot at risk and I can’t say that I’m making anything near the salary I once had, but inside I was a writer and I needed to express that. I needed to give myself a proper chance because otherwise I would always end up hating myself for not doing so. People who are successful are the risk takers. That’s what people who go into business do, they take a risk on a product. I decided to take a risk on my writing. I’m not at the stage yet where I can say that I’ve fully made it, but I don’t regret doing what I did and, if I had that time all over again, I would still go against all the sensible advice and give up my day job.


Author Links:

Visit Elizabeth Kyne's Author Site at:

http://www.elizabethkyne.co.uk  

If Wishes Were Husbands
By Elizabeth Kyne

Rachel re-invents herself when she moves back to her home town of Aylesbury; with a new job, a new house and a new haircut. But people’s eyes glaze over when she tells them about her life as a forty-something singleton who works in accounts. So why not spice things up a bit? Why not tell her new hairdresser and her new friends about her fantastic husband? Everyone wants to hear about Darren, the man who cooks her amazing meals, cleans the house and takes her to bed for orgasmic sex three times a night! What a shame he doesn't exist…



…Until she comes home one night and finds Darren sitting in her lounge. And everything she said becomes true: from his sensuous food to his skill in bed. So real, that she believes it.
Not as if living with a perfect is man is… well, perfect…

She can’t find anything because every time she puts something down, he tidies it away. Then there’s the shock of the credit card bill from buying all that gourmet food. Not to mention the sex! Three times a night is great at first, but sometimes all she wants at the end of the day is a sandwich and some sleep.


Then Rachel decides that Darren has to go - and that’s when her troubles really begin.

Elizabeth Kyne takes the absurdities of the modern woman's quest for love and turns them into an enjoyable romp. She finds the comic in everyday situations, from buying a dress to experimenting with hair dye at home. While, underneath, she comments on the pressure to find the perfect husband and how that quest is doomed for us all.

You can purchase If Wishes Were Husbands online- just follow the links for her Paperback and ebook editions.

PAPERBACK



http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wishes-Were-Husbands-Elizabeth-Kyne/dp/1908340010/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1319364974&sr=1-3  
EBOOK


http://www.amazon.co.uk/If-Wishes-Were-Husbands-ebook/dp/B005S66A8M/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1319364974&sr=1-2
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/92446  


http://www.amazon.com/If-Wishes-Were-Husbands-://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/if-wishes-were-husbands/id475075856?mt=11  
http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/if-wishes-were-husbands/id475075856?mt=11  
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/if-wishes-were-husbands-elizabeth-kyne/1106913246  






http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ifwisheswerehusbands-606059-150.html  



  Friend Elizabeth Kyne on Facebook!
http://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.kyne1  

Merry Blissemas!

Season's Greetings! This week I'm being featured on Victoria Blisse's blog as part of her Blissemas blog extravaganza. Comment here to win a Kindle.

Check out fabulous interviews and more from the sexiest authors working today! You'll also have the chance to share a sexy winter memory and win a copy of my novel, Her Captive Muse.

Fab Giveaway for Readers at Ella Jade's Author Blog!

Today, I'm celebrating the Full Moon with a special giveaway for readers and fans. Want to win a copy of my first novel? Just comment on my revealing Meet the Author Interview with Ella Jade here. Tell me about your sexiest winter memory, and get lucky!

My sexiest winter memory? Getting snowed in with my man. There was no way we could make it to town in time for work, so we both called in and celebrated with an impromptu snow day. We lit candles and stayed in bed all day, making love and cuddling. Let it snow!

We Have A Winner!

This week, my blog tour took me to Elizabeth Morgan's sexy site, My World. We dished the dirt about writing, and I held a giveaway for her readers.

Congratulations, Shadow! You're the lucky winner of a copy of Her Captive Muse. I'll be in touch soon with details.

Missed your chance? Never fear, readers! This month I'll be doing more giveaways and juicy interviews. Catch me on author Ella Jade's website December 12. Then, on December 16, join me for a Merry Blissemas with Victoria Blisse!

Guest-Starring... Me!

Today, I'm thrilled to be guest starring on Elizabeth Morgan's blog, My World. Kicking off the winter leg of my blog tour with a great giveaway for my fans...

Leave a comment here and you- yes, YOU!- could be the lucky winner of a digital copy of my first novel, Her Captive Muse. Visitors to Elizabeth's site will delight in our provocative interview. You'll also be treated to an exclusive sneak peek- a steamy excerpt from Her Captive Muse.

Here's a teaser from our interview...


Q: As a reader, do you prefer good guys or bad boys?

A: I've always been drawn to bad boys... Good guys will give you a big hug when you’re having a tough day. Bad boys will give you a big orgasm.

Bestseller For A Day Returns To Indigo Skye: Ink and Art!

Welcome Back, readers! I'm ending my blogging hiatus with a special event for readers. This month, our Bestseller For a Day is Amber Scott's novel, Soul Search. This book is available all week at Amazon for only 99 cents!

See below for a chance to win a Kindle, and get some other great Bonus Buy reads on the cheap!

Soul Search
By Amber Scott

Three years ago, one horrific night changed his life forever. And now the wolf soul that was invoked to save him is taking over his body, day by day.


Can he master his animal instincts in time to discover who is stealing children's souls before the delicate balance we all depend upon is shattered?


Or will he reject the one woman who can help heal his body and his soul?

Here are some other great Bonus Buy must-reads, on sale this week at Amazon for just 99 cents.

What the Heart Wants
By Kelli McCracken



Do dreams foretell the future? Are there soul connections that go deeper than love?


He can sense her emotions at any place and time. Their bond is powerful but a mystery. One thing he does know: She's plagued his dreams for months. Maybe even longer.


Being involved with a celebrity is the last thing she imagined...or wanted. Can she forget the pain from the past? Can he let go of his fears?

Anyone who buys one or more of these books can enter the drawing to win a Kindle, AND have the purchase price for their Bonus Buys rebated.

Want to win a Kindle? Visit the Bestseller for a Day website after making your purchases, and fill out the form on the right hand side.

It's the most fun you can have with your clothes on. What are you waiting for? Enter today!

Fall Hiatus...Fiji or Bust!

My regular readers will be devastated to note that I've taken a brief hiatus from blogging this fall. Fear not- I'll be returning in November with some fab special guests. The results of my Heat Wave Short Fiction contest will be announced shortly.

I decided I just couldn't face another long, cold winter in the States- so I'm heading to the tropics, where it's summer all the time! I'm relocating to Fiji to blog on the beach. As I shake the dust of the Rockies off my boots and look to the west, I find myself eager for new adventures. My passport's aching to be used, like a masochist with money.

As I go international, fans can expect my writing to heat up accordingly. My special team of Muse-Meteorologists predict that a tsunami of inspiration will devastate old creative blocks and fears. Travel always has the effect of freeing me from my inhibitions- not that I've got many to begin with, as my fans know!

First stop, Fiji. What comes next, only the Fates can know... but you'll be with me every step of the way, readers. Wherever I go, I'll take my trusty laptop and my wild imagination. This is Indigo Skye, signing off for the moment. Keep warm, until I return with more spicy stories to see you through winter's chilly nights.

Indigo Skye Reviews "In Leah's Wake" by Terri Giuliano Long

I'm thrilled to be a part of the Indie Book Collective's August Bestseller for a Day. This month, we're be featuring In Leah's Wake, by Terri Giuliano Long. Here's the blurb, to whet your appetite... 

While her parents fight to save their daughter from destroying her brilliant future, Leah's younger sister, Justine, must cope with the damage her out-of-control sibling leaves in her wake.


Will this family survive? What happens when love just isn't enough? Jodi Picoult fans will love this beautifully written and absorbing novel.

A long-time fan of Picoult and others in the genre, I'm excited to review In Leah's Wake.  As a special treat for readers, I'll also be sharing an excerpt from Long's latest novel, In Leah's Wake.

Bestseller For A Day Giveaway...
Readers- want to win an autographed copy of In Leah's Wake? Simply answer the following question in the Comments section, and you'll be entered to win a signed print edition of this novel! (Don't forget your email address, so we can get in touch with the winner!) Here's the question...

Do you enjoy literary fiction? Why or why not?

Can't get enough? Still want more? Bounce to the Bestseller For A Day website for a chance to win a Kindle. Register here for a Kindle giveaway!

Author Terri Giuliano Long

Indigo Skye Reviews In Leah's Wake, by Terri Giuliano Long



This book is a real page-turner. The story of two sisters, In Leah’s Wake opens with an intriguing prologue that immediately piqued my interest. Will and Zoe, anxious parents awaiting their daughter Leah’s arrival after a soccer game, are on the edge of a fight when the book begins. Financial and career pressures only add to their stress when Leah misses her curfew one night. A protective father, Will heads out to search for his daughter while Zoe remains at home, waiting and worrying.


Long's finely-drawn characters and rich, descriptive prose drew me in right away, and I truly empathized with these frantic parents. When Leah arrives home late in the company of local bad boy Todd Corbett, there’s an ugly scene with her father. Zoe’s attempts to salvage her relationship with her daughter backfire, blowing up in her face and further alienating Leah from the rest of the family.


The narrative expands its scope, showing us the teenaged Leah, who’s up to no good.  While her parents worry, she’s getting high, flirting with boys, trying Ecstasy for the first time, and running wild with a bad crowd.


I liked Long’s characters immediately because they are flawed and imperfect- they make bad decisions, lose their tempers, do things they’ll regret in the morning. It makes them seem all the more real- who hasn’t been there? These are people I can relate to.


When Leah’s casual experiments with drugs lead to a blackout, her younger sister Justine is forced to keep a dangerous secret- or risk alienating her sister further. Wanting to prove she’s trustworthy, Justine promises not to tell their parents. What happens next? I'm no spoiler- you'll just have to find out for yourself!

Characters you can relate to, a tight plot, and a story that moves at a whirlwind clip- In Leah’s Wake is definitely a book I’d recommend for your To Be Read list.


Blue Ribbon Day



An excerpt from In Leah’s Wake


By Terri Giuliano Long


It’s late morning, the end of October - the six-week anniversary of Zoe’s abortion. Exhausted, Zoe is dozing, dreaming about the baby boy she has lost. Her head aches when she comes to.


She rubs the sleep from her eyes. Leah stands at her elbow, cuddling her filthy pink blanket, a bright yellow tutu stretched over her playsuit. The elastic legs of the tutu pinch her chubby thighs; her shorts bunched. Her bangs are caught unevenly by blue and yellow plastic barrettes. Leah plugs her thumb in her mouth, brings the blanket’s satin edge to her nose.


The child is four years old, too old for a blanket.


Since the birth of her sister, eight months ago, Leah’s behavior has steadily regressed. Zoe was alarmed, at first, when her four-year-old suddenly began wetting her pants, mangling her once clearly articulated words. This is normal, the pediatrician had assured her. “A new sibling is stressful. She feels displaced. You’ll be surprised, how fast she adjusts.”


“Take your thumb out of your mouth, honey. You’re not a baby anymore. Here—” Zoe curls her fingers. “Give Mommy the blanket.”


“I wanna play wif Hammy,” Leah says, thumb garbling her words.


“Take your thumb out of your mouth.” Zoe extends her hand. “And give me the blanket.”


Leah shakes her head furiously.


Zoe’s neck aches. “Fine,” she says, too tired to argue. “Have it your way.”


The door of the cuckoo clock on the wall in front of the staircase swings open and a bright red rooster springs out. Cuckoo, the bird sings. Cuckoo, cuckoo. Noon.


“How about if you go outside for a while? Play on your swings? Dog’s out there.”


“Don’t wanna go outside,” Leah says, unplugging her mouth. Leah turns the blanket in her hands, twists the blanket into a filthy pink ball. “I wanna play wif Hammy. Hammy likes me, Daddy says.”


The hamster reminds Zoe of a rat. Will brought it home last month, after a trip. In a flash, Zoe sees Leah clinging to her father’s legs, begging him not to go. Their daughter asked for her father over and over, at least a dozen times a day, the entire time he was gone. Where my Daddy? Why he leave? In a time zone three hours earlier than theirs, he phoned them at night, after she’d fallen asleep. Zoe sees him in the doorway, two weeks later, hands behind his back, a guilty grin on his face. Peering around him, she sees the aquarium, a Habitrail, a month’s supply of wood chips. A giant bag of pellets leans against his luggage.


“Where’s my girl?” With a flourish, he produces his gift. “Where’s Leah?”


“For God’s sake. She doesn’t need another pet.” Zoe has her hands full with that puppy he brought home six months ago. The Lab isn’t even housebroken yet. Poor thing—they still call her Dog.


Will pretended Zoe was kidding. This isn’t a joke, she told him. You’ve been gone three weeks this month. She’s starting to forget what you look like. He turned away. He had no choice, he told her. Problem on one of the jobs. A Marriott. Something about the union, the plumbers threatening to strike. His responsibility. He’d negotiated the contract. He’d much rather be home. Didn’t she know that?


She shook her head, listening, not quite believing.


Leah refuses to budge.


This child is her father’s daughter. She inherited his dazzling blue eyes, his height—at four, she reaches her mother’s waist—Will’s sturdy athlete’s build, his silky blond hair. This stubborn streak, too, comes directly from him.


“I wanna play wif Hammy.” Leah paws Zoe’s arm, climbs onto her knee.


Zoe lifts her daughter, sets her back down. “Later, OK? We’ll get him out after lunch.”


Leah huffs. It’s almost comical, how she stands, feet apart, legs braced as though ready to fight, eyes flashing, tiny fists pressed to her hips. A miniature Will, Zoe thinks, picturing her husband in that same stance, the night before he left.


“California?” Zoe said. “And you’re not taking us?”


She and Will lived in California before they married. They met in Berkeley. He was a folk artist then, in his other life, as he calls it. He was playing a gig and she was in the audience, with a group of friends, at a table at the back of the room. Her friends were noisy, rude. Enraged, he’d ended the show early. She looked for him afterward to apologize. They talked for hours that night, and he’d driven her home. Within three months, they were living together. She misses those days, California, the loving, spontaneous couple she and Will used to be.


He’d be on site all day. He laid a starched white shirt in his suitcase. “You and the kids, you’d have nothing to do.”


Sure they would. They could go to the beach, she said, and ticked off a list.


“That’s ridiculous. I have to work. Besides, we don’t have the money.”


Damn it, she said. Why don’t we have the money? Where does it go? Look around. Where it always goes. Where it always goes? Toward your three-piece suits, she wanted to say, your nights on the town. Not here, she did say, into the house, like you promised. They’d made all sorts of plans when they bought the house. They talked about renovating the kitchen. Will promised to raise the ceiling in their bedroom, finish the basement, build a playroom for the kids, none of which he’d done.


“Will—please?”


“Jesus Christ, Zoe.” He looked at her hard, and turned away.


What? Tell her. Damn it. She wanted to know.


Fine. Look at her. How many more days did she plan on wearing those sweat pants? She’d gained fifteen pounds. Her jeans were too tight. Turning, she felt his eyes on her back. And when, by the way, did she plan to wash her hair? Zoe raked her fingers over her head. “Listen—” He lowered his voice, took hold of her hand, spun her around. “For God’s sake, Zoe.” Would she rather she’d died? The IUD her doctor had inserted after Justine was born was still intact when she discovered she was pregnant again. Her doctor attempted to remove it without surgery and couldn’t. One chance in a thousand, he’d told them. It was possible to continue the pregnancy—the choice was hers—but he did not recommend it. The IUD in situ put her at risk for septicemia. And septic shock could kill her. “I know it takes time,” Will said. “Think of the kids. You’ve got to pull yourself together.”


Leah clambers onto her mother’s lap, places both hands at the base of Zoe’s neck, yanks. She wants to play the kissing game.


“Not now, sweetie.” Zoe pries Leah’s hands from her neck. “Mommy has a headache.”


Leah squinches her eyes. For an instant, Zoe thinks she might hate this child, so like her father.


Yes, it takes time. Of course it takes time.


Her husband, Zoe suddenly realizes, is having an affair. Though she has no tangible proof, she knows, the thought winding forward for weeks. She hasn’t wanted to see.


Leah says something and Zoe blinks, trembling.


Leah gazes up at her. Zoe sees the confusion in her daughter’s eyes and feels bad. “Mommy doesn’t feel good,” Zoe explains. “Check on Justine, sweetie? Make sure she’s OK?”


“I wanna play wif Hammy.”


“Please, Leah. Mommy has work to do. Play with Dog, for now. We’ll get Hammy out of his cage when I’m —”


Before Zoe finishes the sentence, Leah scoots off. Zoe pulls herself up, heads to the playroom, to check on the baby.


Pastry shells are cooling on an aluminum cookie tray, on top of the stove. Zoe’s headache is worse. She took a Percocet tablet fifteen minutes ago and feels woozy. Doctor Marquette prescribed the medication after the surgery. Two weeks later, Zoe was still having cramps and he refilled the prescription. She’s been back a dozen times since, always finagling, working his guilt. Dizzy, she grabs the back of a chair. When she regains her balance, she carries the tray to the counter. The kitchen is warm from the heat of the oven. She pushes the sleeves of her sweater to her elbows, opens the shells, pulls the warm doughy centers, places the bottom halves of the pastries on the sheet. When the shells are cool, she spoons whipped cream into the cavity, replaces the tops, dusts them with sugar.


Zoe put the baby down twenty minutes ago, for her nap.


Leah tugs at her leg.


“Sorry, sweetie. What is it? Mommy wasn’t paying attention.” Zoe sits, spreading her knees, draws her daughter into the empty space between her legs. She takes her daughter’s face in her hands, tips her head back. “My sweet baby,” Zoe murmurs, holding her close. “Momma’s precious little girl.”


Leah pulls away before Zoe is ready. “Do trot, trot?” Leah pleads.


Trot, trot is a baby game, but Zoe goes along anyway. She turns Leah around, so they’re facing one another, slides her daughter backward, takes hold of her hands. “Trot, trot to Boston,” Zoe chants, bouncing Leah on her knees. Trot, trot to Lynn. Better watch out or you’re gonna— Holding Leah’s hands tightly, Zoe opens her legs, dips her daughter, close to the floor. Fall in. Breathless, Leah begs Zoe to do it again. “Again, Mommy. Gain.” Trot, trot to Boston, Zoe repeats. Again and again.


Finally, Leah has had enough.


“Sweetie,” Zoe says, out of breath herself. “Check on your sister? See if she’s asleep?”


Leah nods and hops down.


When Leah returns, Zoe makes her daughter a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Zoe is due for her period. She winces, her uterus contracting, the pain intense, like the phantom pain people feel in an arm or leg after an amputation. When she opens the cabinet to fetch a glass for Leah’s milk, she eyes the bottle of Percocet, wedged in the corner. Her breathing labored, she blinks against the sudden, shooting pain in her womb. Just one more, she thinks. Or two. Two would help a lot. She pours a glass of water to wash down the pills, rinses the glass, fills it with milk, hands it to Leah, takes a seat at the table, across from her daughter, and watches her eat.


When Leah finishes her lunch, she climbs back into Zoe’s lap, twiddles a lock of her mother’s hair. “Your hair is pretty. I wished I had pretty hair like you,” Leah says.


“Your hair is pretty, honey. You have Daddy’s hair. Very pretty.”


Leah grins, pleased to hear she resembles her father, yawns, dropping her head, nuzzles Zoe’s chest. Zoe strokes her daughter’s hair. Leah smells of the outdoors, as Zoe imagines a baby robin might smell—of the trees, of the grass, of the air.


Leah falls asleep in her mother’s arms. Zoe stands, cradling her child, carries Leah to the den, lays her on the sofa, tucks a pillow under her head. Then she settles on the couch, on the end opposite Leah, her daughter’s bare feet tucked between her shins.


Within minutes, Zoe’s asleep.


In the dream, Zoe is rowing a canoe, in the middle of the ocean. The canoe bobs in the waves. A swell washes over her, tipping the boat, and Zoe is treading water. She tries to swim, the current too strong. The tide carries her downstream, through a narrow passageway, to a saltwater river. A party boat passes, so close she can almost reach out and touch it. People in Twenties-style clothing—mustachioed men in crisp white suits, women in short frilly dresses—are crowded on the deck, several men leaning precariously over the rail. The women laugh, sipping martinis. A band, playing on the upper deck, launches into a song, people singing, dancing. Zoe cries out, but no one hears. Suddenly, she spots Leah, floating toward her. Zoe kicks her feet, harder, harder, propelling her body forward. Leah reaches, grabbing her neck. No, Leah. We’ll both drown. Take my hand, baby. My hand.


He’s dead, Momma. He’s dead. Leah tugs Zoe’s hand.


“What?” Zoe says, somewhere between waking and sleep. “Baby, what’s wrong?”


Leah shrieks, her face blotchy, contorted. Zoe pushes to her elbows, her tongue cotton, her ears full of liquid.


A haze has fallen over the house. She searches for the clock.


The room blurs. Zoe thinks she might vomit. Leah tugs harder, trying to pull Zoe—Where? Reaching backward, using the arm of the sofa for leverage, Zoe drags herself up. Rubs her eyes, her skull expanding, her mind numb.


“Mommy, listen,” Leah cries. “You’re not listening, Mommy.”


Zoe floats toward the stairs, Leah zooming ahead. Her joints ache, the soles of her feet burning as she presses, one foot then the other, to the hardwood floor, sheer will propelling her forward. She wishes she could go back to sleep. She could sleep forever, she thinks.


Sleep forever.


“Mommy,” Leah calls, from the top of the stairs. “Hurry.”


“I’m coming, Leah. I am.”


Zoe holds onto the banister, the stairs moaning under her weight. Leah has drawn stick figures with black magic marker on the walls inside the stairwell. Her temples throb, blood draining from her head to her chest. Mommy. Come, Momma. Hurry.


What has she done? My God, Zoe thinks. What have I done?


“I did it, Mommy,” Leah cries. “I killed him.”


For one horrific moment, the world goes still. Then Zoe is shaking her daughter— “Who, Leah? Who did you kill?”—terrified of the answer.


Suddenly, the baby wails. Zoe blinks, catching her breath.


“I wanted to make him pretty, Mommy. I hadda hold him,” she sobs. “I holded him nice. I did. I tied the ribbon and he stopped breaving.”


She sees the hamster now, in Leah’s open palm, a pale blue ribbon cinching its waist.


Holding Leah’s free hand, Zoe guides her daughter back to the bedroom, removes a shoebox from Leah’s closet, lays the hamster to rest. Taking Leah by the hand, she goes to Justine. After she changes the baby’s diaper, the three of them will take the hamster outside, bury him in the backyard. They’ll say a prayer, sing a song. Afterward, Zoe will read the Genesis story, from Leah’s Bible For Children. She will take her daughter into her arms, tell her she mustn’t blame herself. All creatures die. Death is part of God’s plan. Don’t be afraid, baby, she’ll say. Dying doesn’t hurt. Death, she thinks, afflicts only the living. When Leah looks up, Zoe will read in her daughter’s eyes the faint stirring of comprehension. And she’ll hold her tightly, comforting, protecting her child, while she still can.

Author Terri Giuliano Long

 
Author Bio:



Terri Giuliano Long grew up in the company of stories both of her own making and as written by others. Books offer her a zest for life’s highs and comfort in its lows better than anything else can. She’s all-too-happy to share this love with others as a novelist and as a writing instructor at Boston College. She blogs about writing and the writing life at www.tglong.com/blog . Connect on Twitter: @tglong.

About Bestseller For a Day:

Making authors dreams come true, one promotion at a time.

Each month, for one day, readers, friends, family and peers rally together to drive an ebook up the Amazon Kindle rankings with a goal to pierce the top 100. The aim of the program is to help indie authors get a foothold in the traditionally published dominated market. Authors coordinate with book review sponsors to show readers that the 99 cent promotional price is worth every penny.

This month's Bonus Buy Books are...

Amazon Bestseller!

Sophie & Carter

By Chelsea Fine

While other high school seniors are dreaming about their futures, Sophie and Carter are just trying to make it through each day. Carter is overwhelmed by issues at home as he struggles to support his mother. Meanwhile, next door neighbor Sophie is left to care for her three younger siblings in place of their absent and troubled mother. All that holds these two best friends together is each other, and knowing that each night they'll sit together on Sophie's front porch swing and escape from reality, if just for awhile. But as their relationship reaches a turning point and high school graduation nears, will their friendship become something...more?

Chasing Amanda
By Melissa Foster

Recipient of three Readers Favorite Awards

Molly Tanner witnessed a young girl’s abduction in the busy city of Philadelphia, shifting her occasional clairvoyance into overdrive. Two days later, the girl’s body was found, and Molly’s life fell apart. Consumed by guilt for not acting upon her visions, and on the brink of losing her family, Molly escaped the torturous reminders in the city, fleeing to the safety of the close-knit rural community of Boyds, Maryland.
Molly’s life is back on track, her son has begun college, and she and her husband have finally rekindled their relationship. Their fresh start is shattered when a seven-year-old girl disappears from a local park near Molly’s home. Unable to turn her back on another child and troubled by memories of the past, Molly sets out to find her, jeopardizing the marriage she’d fought so hard to hold together. While unearthing clues and struggling to decipher her visions, Molly discovers another side of Boyds, where the residents--and the land itself--hold potentially lethal secrets, and exposes another side of her husband, one that threatens to tear them apart.

The Trust
By Sean Keefer

2011 Medalist – Mystery/Thriller/Suspense – Independent Publishers Awards

2011 Fiction Winner – Beach Book Festival

To attorney Noah Parks, the probate of a will should be a simple task. But the Last Will and Testament of Leonardo Xavier Cross is anything but simple. Though Parks has never heard of Cross, he learns that the Will directs that he provide the legal representation for the estate and as part of his fee he receive the contents of a safety deposit box – a safety deposit box no one knew existed.

Intrigued, Parks undertakes the task but after the body count begins to rise the otherwise basic task of probating the will becomes more complicated as each day passes. Despite all of Parks’ skills, the answers he seeks remain elusive and force him to delve deeper into the shocking and deceptive Cross’ family history which sets the stage for an explosive finale that Parks can only hope to survive. Set in Charleston, South Carolina, The Trust is the debut novel from Sean Keefer.

Blending elements of traditional southern literary fiction, suspense and mystery; you won’t be satisfied until the final page is turned.

Bella
By Steve Piacente
Moss knew she might lose her husband when he went off to war. When the call came, she was almost ready. What stopped her cold was the second call...

A striking widow intent on proving the military lied about her husband's death lures a Washington journalist into the investigation. Working together, they discover the power of temptation, the futility of revenge, and the consequences of yielding to either.