tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37313573726472615332024-03-14T01:14:04.507-05:00Midnight Musings with Bertena My musings on books, movies, and anything that comes to my mind late at night..Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.comBlogger282125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-60940874354178455802023-08-29T01:30:00.006-05:002023-08-29T01:30:00.146-05:00War of the Sea - Kickstarter Olympian Wars Book One Dana Claire<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4sP7_jkF2u0iirg6WTKAusO2ccygdeGKgcdrekoP73ag3C5mXFdcC6O2P-xrV-_vJqQjR3cGXT9LPzYlACjJAc-6la8cPYEO3XkAisrLsvmxypkPHGDl0wut_wx7AGTZFxdhyz1CCtkWvNyFI4YqIV-d3zmh8b-wrA3oiWY-hSetpG4240acStuze4JI/s900/WOTS_%20KS%20IMG.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX4sP7_jkF2u0iirg6WTKAusO2ccygdeGKgcdrekoP73ag3C5mXFdcC6O2P-xrV-_vJqQjR3cGXT9LPzYlACjJAc-6la8cPYEO3XkAisrLsvmxypkPHGDl0wut_wx7AGTZFxdhyz1CCtkWvNyFI4YqIV-d3zmh8b-wrA3oiWY-hSetpG4240acStuze4JI/s320/WOTS_%20KS%20IMG.jpeg" width="213" /></a></div>War of the Sea - Kickstarter</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Olympian Wars</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Book One</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Dana Claire</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Fantasy Romance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: Chamberlain Publishing House</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN: 9798987263563</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN: B0BLGH16G6</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 270</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 80,000</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Brush Media Group</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: A bargain. A brigand. A battle for the sea.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">His powers could save the ocean. Her vendetta could sink a kingdom.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Captain Elouise Farrington, the youngest pirate on the Caviar Sea, seeks revenge on her father’s killer. But when her oddly hypnotic foe proposes a pact to kill the Siren Queen and end the War of the Sea’s bloodshed, she must make a choice. Put aside her long-brewing retribution or act the underhanded pirate and use the alliance to claim the life of the man who destroyed her family?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Captain Rylander Bordeaux, the revered royal navy captain of the Isle of Cava, has one mission—kill the Siren Queen and end the War of the Sea. The ocean is the only place Rylander calls home, but to bring peace to his beloved waves, he must defeat his past so he can reshape the future. His greatest hope is Captain Elouise, who calls to him like no siren song ever has. Too bad she’s almost as bloodthirsty as the fanged heart-eaters themselves. She promises to lend her all-female crew to his war on the sirens, but can he trust a brigand—especially one who wants him dead—to uphold her end of the bargain? Or will she be his undoing?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="http://www.warofthesea.com/">www.WaroftheSea.com</a></span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/danaclaire/surprise-narrators-sirens-and-pirates-and-greek-gods-oh-my">Kickstarter</a></span>
<o:p></o:p></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdxF4qZpwJhf7w10CyJuKmjY8lyLmWCQ28BGbAYPL28GzRoBRvAVYIgimJnljcEe5qfqHZ2BGz698k-Bt0mmvy6k1Ae8bYnle0rjfQzICIPnFAMaLrjLqkxLIFimsOQjc7gLBnnTc-jn6ZX0U5K-UzMlea6-Z2atJaBatKmqzXaTWOAZNqGoRG98y_h9NZ/s1024/BB-2023-6-6-5752.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="1024" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdxF4qZpwJhf7w10CyJuKmjY8lyLmWCQ28BGbAYPL28GzRoBRvAVYIgimJnljcEe5qfqHZ2BGz698k-Bt0mmvy6k1Ae8bYnle0rjfQzICIPnFAMaLrjLqkxLIFimsOQjc7gLBnnTc-jn6ZX0U5K-UzMlea6-Z2atJaBatKmqzXaTWOAZNqGoRG98y_h9NZ/w400-h225/BB-2023-6-6-5752.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <b>Excerpt:</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Our mouths met once
again, hungry and desperate, as I lifted her into my arms. Her chemise rose and
bunched in between us. My palms cupped her exposed thighs, urging them to
encircle my waist. I walked us backward to the bed, never breaking our kiss,
and slowly lowered her down, careful to bear my weight against my forearm. I
savored the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with mine,
as her fingers wove into my hair. Pleasure and pain radiated through my scalp
as she pulled the ends with her iron grip, her moans urging me on. With my free
hand, I explored her, tracing the lines of her neck, the softness of her
breasts. Her body arched in response, a silent plea for more.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">I continued my
journey, my hand tracing the curve of her hip, slipping beneath her knee, and
wrapping her leg around me once more. The connection between us grew stronger,
an unspoken understanding that we were meant to be entwined, a meeting of
souls. And then, with a surge of anticipation, I pressed into her, feeling her
heat and the electric pulse of our bodies against one another.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She pulled back, her
eyes locking onto mine, reflecting a hunger and longing that mirrored my own. A
mischievous smile played upon her lips as her fingers toyed with the button on
my trousers. But before she undid it, I heard a noise. Footsteps.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“It’s probably a good
idea to tell you both I’m in the room.” Smitter’s voice sounded somewhere
behind me, way too close to the bed, to us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">I jumped backward,
lost my balance, and stumbled to the floor. My rear landed hard. Lou swathed
herself in a wad of sheets. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“I had hoped you’d
come up for air, but there’s really no good way to interrupt.” He waved in
between us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“I’m going to kill
you,” I growled from the floor. Out of all the times my uncle had popped in and
out of a room, this had to be the most invasive and humiliating. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Why would you …? I
can’t— Don’t you ever do that again,” Lou shouted, horrified. Her hands balled
around the sheets. Flushed like a sunburned noble, she volleyed her gaze
between me, half clothed on the floor, and Smitter. Her knotted hair stuck up
on top of her head. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Yes, I realize it’s
not great timing, but the two of you need your rest. We drop anchor tomorrow on
the perimeter of Anthemusa. The men have already been moved to the soundproof
rooms. And we need to strategize how you’ll slay the Siren Queen, now that our
first plan is no longer viable.” Smitter’s concerned brown eyes found mine.
“Also, your aunt said this isn’t the right time for”—he swirled a finger in our
general direction—“this.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Lou’s brows
contorted. “What? Who is your aunt?” She gaped at me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: left;">I waved Lou off. Aunt Artemis, the goddess of
childbirth, would know when Lou should abstain, but I wasn’t about to have that
conversation. I bent my knees, resting my elbows on my thighs, and rubbed my
temples. My family had truly outdone themselves. Not a single boundary nor a
clue as to how their incessant involvement could be a nuisance.</div>
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<!--[endif]--></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTVNHVliS-oKLRS2kvb999iKbNWIA6sO_SiTgEo5rEEoVajDrEMUd9KfN6R-6TUxMxGBh7iA_iiEhvoUh1q-55Ec8NHTyBWgSWL9J-XzfcX4qF8pdWxX3xJqG_6XcVaV9ru6qxmoeyz0R_oLUT8z_n6OLo8i6ks6_ZhAw60i8hWleMiRlYAhbwBEXwqE5/s680/BB-2023-6-6-3091.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="680" data-original-width="680" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTVNHVliS-oKLRS2kvb999iKbNWIA6sO_SiTgEo5rEEoVajDrEMUd9KfN6R-6TUxMxGBh7iA_iiEhvoUh1q-55Ec8NHTyBWgSWL9J-XzfcX4qF8pdWxX3xJqG_6XcVaV9ru6qxmoeyz0R_oLUT8z_n6OLo8i6ks6_ZhAw60i8hWleMiRlYAhbwBEXwqE5/s320/BB-2023-6-6-3091.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeWkXht7D8rhgXZniSmDjIeGnFQJcChFq6npA42Om88_CBEAdccR5p2S8125ToRGERNmxE2P1qDSUpzGfnoGc43vg06uhpWYyFJEdgM8Ldr111gl54EiOGDP8d0HGomco_5nxj9mrWtIO-SNCHTacQv2JvzQl3cvpldmVKZ5H_m9nRDSk8QafgDimi6kz/s1080/headshot%20smaller%20image.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeWkXht7D8rhgXZniSmDjIeGnFQJcChFq6npA42Om88_CBEAdccR5p2S8125ToRGERNmxE2P1qDSUpzGfnoGc43vg06uhpWYyFJEdgM8Ldr111gl54EiOGDP8d0HGomco_5nxj9mrWtIO-SNCHTacQv2JvzQl3cvpldmVKZ5H_m9nRDSk8QafgDimi6kz/w200-h200/headshot%20smaller%20image.png" width="200" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">DANA CLAIRE is an award-winning author whose stories explore identity, fate, and destiny in the crossroads of romance and adventure. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Her love of romantic tension and the supernatural effortlessly translates into spine-tingling action and unforgettable characters. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">She lives in Los Angeles, CA with her adoring husband living her dreams: writing books, telling stories, and changing the world, one reader at a time. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Website: <a href="https://danaclairebooks.com/">https://danaclairebooks.com/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Newsletter: <a href="https://bit.ly/3rDRy05">https://bit.ly/3rDRy05</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Shop: <a href="https://shopgiftsforbooklovers.com/">https://shopgiftsforbooklovers.com/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/danaclairebooks">https://twitter.com/danaclairebooks</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/authordanaclaire">https://www.instagram.com/authordanaclaire</a>/</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DanaClaireBooks/">https://www.facebook.com/DanaClaireBooks/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">BookBub: <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/dana-claire">https://www.bookbub.com/profile/dana-claire</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">TikTok: <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@authordanaclaire">https://www.tiktok.com/@authordanaclaire</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Amazon: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dana-Claire/e/B08P6PQ8LJ">https://www.amazon.com/Dana-Claire/e/B08P6PQ8LJ</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">GoodReads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20913760.Dana_Claire">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20913760.Dana_Claire</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-88985839318838040042023-08-17T01:30:00.003-05:002023-08-17T01:30:00.145-05:00Outcast Artist in Bretagne WWII Heartbreak and Forbidden Love Diane Scott Lewis<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMLufu1RKDkqODFzlcQ-kpXutkeVJ_TCSYoH_mnOqEzzaL74rNtBcM1xA1vnwMd07LR8UdIMwXQTLwizyThDrft7gvNOpY8wDSD8Hq_--Z7emteBp5bjM5V0p9UB5STlOT9V8CkrOkwoGPqnE6FG__LBtP18G6jrr2wYqfB0ZGzXtjd0d-sBXsQzjrRWb/s820/Outcast%20Artist%20Banner.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMLufu1RKDkqODFzlcQ-kpXutkeVJ_TCSYoH_mnOqEzzaL74rNtBcM1xA1vnwMd07LR8UdIMwXQTLwizyThDrft7gvNOpY8wDSD8Hq_--Z7emteBp5bjM5V0p9UB5STlOT9V8CkrOkwoGPqnE6FG__LBtP18G6jrr2wYqfB0ZGzXtjd0d-sBXsQzjrRWb/w400-h153/Outcast%20Artist%20Banner.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0gb39rfLtDljaFxjYWJjG7NxpgaBjnTmx3N0taE-V2zJMUoIkES10oz9joA_XQchwxKEm9yxtITxWWoWiMLVAwMUtoEdROCOdOQ32XjJy-clbeyEaPEl2TasNAGQfaMN8bau-WrX0xICEaSx4StK5wtTnweHDKD7E_DyXyqZk4fdKDFXlLSRe4rIJw7xD/s2100/OutcastArtistinBretagne-ScottLewis-1400.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2100" data-original-width="1400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0gb39rfLtDljaFxjYWJjG7NxpgaBjnTmx3N0taE-V2zJMUoIkES10oz9joA_XQchwxKEm9yxtITxWWoWiMLVAwMUtoEdROCOdOQ32XjJy-clbeyEaPEl2TasNAGQfaMN8bau-WrX0xICEaSx4StK5wtTnweHDKD7E_DyXyqZk4fdKDFXlLSRe4rIJw7xD/s320/OutcastArtistinBretagne-ScottLewis-1400.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Outcast Artist in Bretagne </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>WWII Heartbreak and Forbidden Love</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Diane Scott Lewis</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Historical Romance </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: BWL publishing, inc.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: May 1, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN-10: 0228625505</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN-13: 978-0228625506</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN: B0C24NLLBK</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 370</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 98,000</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Michelle Lee</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: Can a damaged Englishwoman find love with her worst enemy, or will the brutality of war rip them apart? Is she a spy? Will he retaliate against Hitler? A dangerous love affair.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Unwed and pregnant, Norah Cooper flees England to hide with her cousin in Brittany just before Germany’s 1940 invasion of France. After her baby is stillborn, she's trapped under the Occupation as war expands across Europe. Norah grieves and consoles herself by sketching wildlife. When she’s caught too near the coast, she comes under scrutiny of the German commandant, Major August von Gottlieb.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">August loathes what Hitler is doing to his country and France but is duty-bound to control the people in his jurisdiction. The lively young Englishwoman piques his interest. Is she a spy? He questions her and asks her to sketch his portrait so he might uncover the truth.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Soon, their relationship evolves into a passion neither of them can deny. She endures taunts from the villagers. His superiors warn him of not being harsh enough—he could be transferred or worse. He plans to sabotage a major war machine of the Reich, while she secretly helps the Resistance. Both acts are fraught with danger while kept secret from one another. Will their love ruin her and end in heartbreak? Or will they overcome the odds and survive the surging threats on all sides?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3Y5DmJb"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Amazon</span></a></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b></b></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b>EXCERPT
ONE</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">August’s offer of marriage sent a tremor through her. Could
that ever be possible? Did they have a future? Or would the war destroy them?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">So many problems to consider. Norah traced a finger over the
slight cleft in his chin and his lower lip. The lips that had given her so much
delight. The gaze she once thought arrogant now adored her, assuring her as
best he could. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She smiled at his confidence. The memory of their union sent
warmth throughout her body. She brimmed with love, though the danger lurked
beneath the surface.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">He sat up and smoothed down his hair. “Let’s dress and get
off this floor.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Sitting, she pulled her clothes on. August finished dressing,
stood, and offered his hand.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Once on her feet, she picked up a cushion and so did he.
They fitted them back in the chairs.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She ran her fingers through her hair, then retied the bow on
her blouse. Another concern surged up. “When can you contemplate retirement
from the army?” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“The earliest would be next year. I want my son graduated
from school, then sent off to college.” He brushed off his trousers. His gaze
met hers. “A college in Switzerland being preferable.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“You want him safe.” Had August been making plans all along
to keep his son out of Hitler’s claws? Norah wanted August out of the madman’s
clutches, too.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yes, safe. But I have important business to take care of
here before any thoughts of retirement.” He tucked in his shirt. “Something
I’ve recently realized needs to be done.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“What is it?” She rubbed low on her back.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I’ll tell you when the reason for it is closer.” He tugged
on his tunic, fastening his high collar where the Iron Cross hung.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She glanced away from the reminder of what he represented.
“You can’t tell me anything? I want you to confide in me.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">He pulled her close and kissed her, thoroughly. “I’ll
confide when I can. Don’t worry, you will approve.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Is it dangerous for you?” She gasped after the kiss and now
grew apprehensive about this new information. The idea of the guarded port stuck
in her mind for some reason.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">He opened the door and peered out. “I’ll give you the
details later, I promise.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Not too much later, please.” She cocked her head and
clasped his arm. “I hope it’s something to slow this war. We must all make that
effort.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">He pressed on her fingers, his smile sweet, then gestured
for her to exit. “Goodbye for now, meine liebe. We’ll meet again as soon as it
can be arranged. I’ll discreetly leave notes for you in the terracotta pot of
geraniums in front of your cottage.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Yes, very soon. But that reminds me.” She pulled a paper
from her pocket and handed it to him. “The words for my telegram.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I will take care of this tomorrow morning.” August slipped
the paper into his tunic pocket. His smile now looked sad. “Don’t forget, I
have limited power out here. There are constraints.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I understand. I’ll check the pot daily. Be careful in
whatever you plan.” Stepping out into the warm air, her mind swirled with fear
for him, herself, and the need for more of what they’d just shared. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I love you,” they both whispered, gazes intense.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Norah’s step quickened away from the summerhouse. She’d
turned into the worst of wanton women, a fraternizer. The English called it a
Jerry-bag. But her love for him gripped her, staggering her as she hurried
around bushes and under trees. The green scents washed away the sweat of
lovemaking.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">She chewed the inside of her cheek. How much
time would they have if Hitler clamped down harder here, in Brittany—and across
the channel? She could lose August, lose her country. </p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAmPYpHVZLI8-DSXOmNgTTm2rI0O67PqcBIqpsNa13j1CV0e8epK9ym0zBuaDUtCxR9Ab3SksGQ-uEVn477-g6Rbv7bkyvSr6inb_8WlMZs7-xo-wE1rxj8Mj2hyyrcDCINnW7YpMMFDjBHMEnECCZWz0R32tq_-7LTfw5MqTyFI1IKXIyESqX-mCkIx1/s3229/Diane%20Scott%20Lewis.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3229" data-original-width="2336" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAmPYpHVZLI8-DSXOmNgTTm2rI0O67PqcBIqpsNa13j1CV0e8epK9ym0zBuaDUtCxR9Ab3SksGQ-uEVn477-g6Rbv7bkyvSr6inb_8WlMZs7-xo-wE1rxj8Mj2hyyrcDCINnW7YpMMFDjBHMEnECCZWz0R32tq_-7LTfw5MqTyFI1IKXIyESqX-mCkIx1/w145-h200/Diane%20Scott%20Lewis.JPG" width="145" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Diane Parkinson (Diane Scott Lewis) grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, joined the Navy at nineteen, married in Greece and raised two sons all over the world, including Puerto Rico and Guam. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">A member of the Historical Novel Society, she wrote book reviews for the Historical Novels Review. Diane worked from 2007 to 2010 as an on-line historical editor. Writing since the age of five, she had her debut novel published in 2010, a story that takes place during the French Revolution. She’s had several historical and historical-romance novels published between 2010 and 2021. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Her newest novel, a WWII romantic suspense, released in May. A fan of graphic arts, she’s designed brochures and book covers. She also enjoys traveling and camping. Her extensive traveling inspired her love of history.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Diane lives with her husband and dachshund in western Pennsylvania.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">For more on her books visit her blog: <a href="https://dianescottlewisauthor.blogspot.com/">https://dianescottlewisauthor.blogspot.com/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/DSLewisHF">https://twitter.com/DSLewisHF</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/dhparkin/">https://www.instagram.com/dhparkin/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Bookbub: <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/diane-scott-lewis">https://www.bookbub.com/authors/diane-scott-lewis</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Diane-Scott-Lewis-277223019312535/">https://www.facebook.com/Diane-Scott-Lewis-277223019312535/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3999998.Diane_Scott_Lewis " rel="nofollow" target="_blank">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3999998.Diane_Scott_Lewis </a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Amazon: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/Diane-Scott-Lewis/author/B003NTK2GM">https://www.amazon.com/stores/Diane-Scott-Lewis/author/B003NTK2GM</a></span></div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRARP1Lf8u2LjIHTZh2Go3up4EiUx7jDkWpJ3a8pSBNXmpgym6Ni_mYddKEJPcCAAUn-aJZNbcR3W4lfnjNYfj3vXZl8JPK8fvIntqKcDPSIiezFweY1sss5dQIsh1kvkGLWfH996SEzaHxmJXnxDeIIUwqt5QTckuwDinskkU4HgPLsKn1VVAksq1Ls68/s1080/Outcast%20Artist%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRARP1Lf8u2LjIHTZh2Go3up4EiUx7jDkWpJ3a8pSBNXmpgym6Ni_mYddKEJPcCAAUn-aJZNbcR3W4lfnjNYfj3vXZl8JPK8fvIntqKcDPSIiezFweY1sss5dQIsh1kvkGLWfH996SEzaHxmJXnxDeIIUwqt5QTckuwDinskkU4HgPLsKn1VVAksq1Ls68/s320/Outcast%20Artist%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2196" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2196/" id="rcwidget_q68evrpz" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-75042373502979695322023-08-08T00:30:00.004-05:002023-08-08T00:30:00.149-05:00The Siphoning The Redemption Series Book One D.T. Stubblefield<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL83fWUvMue9zvQ3Ca6dThYj3qm6kUDw0WzbxnxrL8mAIuknpDmoZsGSBDe7K4vmWh0qIm7zxHo7NvrvZPLlt-PedtVrkZEwPAwJagpX0bBEIlxfktyImEWVpd8vl4kK3S5pIqiveLOpfOxma48_TbXw9SX1vYlJ8L7Ceyw5-g6N7c5zVwI4ahJzegZKC7/s820/The%20Siphoning%20%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL83fWUvMue9zvQ3Ca6dThYj3qm6kUDw0WzbxnxrL8mAIuknpDmoZsGSBDe7K4vmWh0qIm7zxHo7NvrvZPLlt-PedtVrkZEwPAwJagpX0bBEIlxfktyImEWVpd8vl4kK3S5pIqiveLOpfOxma48_TbXw9SX1vYlJ8L7Ceyw5-g6N7c5zVwI4ahJzegZKC7/w400-h153/The%20Siphoning%20%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOMYV1U3_BSHHqI8_MxyLe96Pl8by2egyTBXXPgrO7ljdFRnFnkujek69aUKIQ6YF30hIjYXbK_RnICzFg5Xsie7JeIp0KmWHQ0CIPzjT2gHSb9ssF3_OriI0zQe6oDf9zygrGEHjBH2hleGCt0g4QiqiozdgL_yBUwhnzIcNZZgprXNH_ps1hrxjZ_Hw/s2560/TheSiphoning_eBookCover%5B1%5D.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicOMYV1U3_BSHHqI8_MxyLe96Pl8by2egyTBXXPgrO7ljdFRnFnkujek69aUKIQ6YF30hIjYXbK_RnICzFg5Xsie7JeIp0KmWHQ0CIPzjT2gHSb9ssF3_OriI0zQe6oDf9zygrGEHjBH2hleGCt0g4QiqiozdgL_yBUwhnzIcNZZgprXNH_ps1hrxjZ_Hw/s320/TheSiphoning_eBookCover%5B1%5D.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>The Siphoning </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>The Redemption Series</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Book One</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>D.T. Stubblefield</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Fantasy </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: D.T. Stubblefield </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: September 4, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN: 8987848906 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN: B0C9P3J5FM</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 385</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: approx. 106,000</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: BeauteBook </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: Warring Worlds Align Against an Ancient Evil</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Goddess is good. The Goddess is pure.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Assassin Drakon Deathmark has heard those mantras his entire life. It’s not until he comes face-to-face with her that he realizes she’s more demon than deity.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Drakon conceals his innate power while yearning for the magic derived from the goddess’s blessing, which is reserved for nobility.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">When a treacherous mission goes awry, he uncovers a prophecy pitting him against an ancient evil intent on vengeance. Drakon and his allies must defeat a demon masquerading as a goddess, her growing Army, and unravel millennia of deceit before she lays waste to their world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">For Drakon, the path to survival means overcoming past trauma and possibly relinquishing the power he has worked so hard to acquire.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>
<b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><a href="https://amzn.to/44tHvce">Amazon</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-siphoning-dt-stubblefield/1143770399?ean=2940167524804">BN</a> <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/id6451157425">Apple</a> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1422510">Smashwords</a> <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-siphoning">Kobo</a></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: times;"></span></b></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: times;">Excerpt <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Drakon heaved himself through the open third-story
window. His black cloak flowed about him, concealing him in shadow. His muscles
quivered from the rapid ascent. Below, the clamp of boots and a muttered
conversation passed beneath the window and then receded.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Another close call.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">This made the fourth such encounter of the night. He
lived by a rule: two close calls and he would abort a mission. Each time he
ignored this simple rule, something untoward happened. His survival instincts
screamed for him to turn back and return another night but time was short, and
he was dangerously close to missing his deadline. The manor grounds were an ant
colony of activity, and it took him longer than expected to make it this far.
Seconds dripped by, increasing his chances of being discovered.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Discovery meant death.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Silently, he settled into the wooden floorboards. No
groan of protest announced his entry. Crouching, Drakon pulled the cowl of his
cloak lower and drifted wraith-like into the chamber. A breeze swept inward. The
cool, crisp air did nothing to purify the overwhelming stench of incense
hanging in the bedchamber.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">A light orb floated overhead, casting the chamber in a
warm yellow glow, elongating the shadows in which Drakon hid. Art canvases of
all sizes hung on the stone walls, ornate furniture adorned every square inch,
and a massive four-poster bed overflowing with furs stood at the chamber’s
center.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Drakon curled his lip in disdain. The warden’s blatant
show of wealth was in contrast to the poverty of the people he lorded over.
Another warden charged with the well-being of commoners lining his pockets from
the people’s labor. He hadn’t expected much humility from a noble, and even
less from a mage such as the Jenna City Warden.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Drakon’s orders from the king were clear. The warden
was to appear to have died of natural causes. Drakon wasn’t privy to the
transgression the man committed to garner himself a spot on the king’s kill
list. The reason was inconsequential. He didn’t care, nor did he mete out
judgments. The Royal Council dealt with such things. He was but the gnarled
hand of death employed to dole out the punishment. Drakon recalled the death
and poverty he witnessed while traversing the Commoner District of the city and
grimaced. He would enjoy killing this warden.<br />
The bedchamber was empty, as Drakon knew it would be. He committed his mark’s
routine to memory. The warden was middle-aged, but his habit of nightly
drinking and debauchery was legendary throughout the Kingdom of Somorrah.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Drakon’s gaze searched the chamber for the warden’s
favorite vice. There. A pitcher and glass sat on a table next to the bed;
remnants of red wine stained the bottom of the glass. Drakon removed a vial
from his cloak. A colorless, odorless liquid sloshed within its clear container.
He would add one drop into the glass, and the deed would be done. He would send
word of the mission’s completion to the king. Afterward, he might take an
overdue leave of absence.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He moved toward the table. Laughter and shuffling
footsteps from outside the closed door froze him halfway across the chamber.
The doorknob turned, and the door banged open. Drakon threw himself into the
shadows of a wardrobe. Sounds of merriment drifted into the room and then were
muted as the door snicked shut.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The warden was early. Drakon hadn’t expected him until
nearer to dawn. He cursed inwardly. He couldn’t wait in the shadows until the
man passed out. The king made his instructions all too clear. The warden was to
die before sunrise. Drakon gritted his teeth. He would have to improvise. He
hated improvising. It reduced his chances of an undetected escape, but what
other choice was there?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He pocketed the vial and pressed against the wardrobe.
The warden, red-faced and inebriated, stumbled on unsteady legs toward the bed,
hauling a struggling woman behind him. He was small and slender, manual labor
having never sculpted the muscles of his body. Like all wardens, he was also a
magical mage. The man’s diminutive physique was no indication of his power.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Alabaster skin inked with tattoos peeked from the
warden’s robes, testaments of his magical aptitude. Only his face was unmarred.
Each tattoo was a rune etched to guard the warden against the harmful effects
of drawing the goddess’s power. Such power came with a price, and the wardens
protected themselves with the tattoos.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The warden’s hair was a dirty blond, and his skin was
pale but not an unearthly translucent. A mage’s hair, eyes, and skin lightened
with their growth in magic. This mage wasn’t as strong as the others Drakon killed.
His tongue prodded a void a molar once occupied as a reminder of past battles
against magical enemies. Thank the goddess for small mercies.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">A sob drew his attention to the woman the warden
dragged in tow. She was waif-like. Oily black hair concealed her face, and her
chestnut skin identified her as a commoner. Her threadbare dress was torn at
the neck and thin enough to see through. She was probably a slave. He resigned
himself to the possibility of collateral. From the look of her, death would be preferable
to her current lot in life. He could give her that escape, at least.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The warden yanked the woman forward. She struggled all
the more, whimpering and pleading for release. The warden cursed and slapped
her hard enough to snap her head back. The blow whipped her face toward Drakon
and freed it from its curtain of dirty hair.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Drakon’s eyes flared. A face smooth with youth was
decorated with black and blue bruises and a split lip. Terror-filled eyes
glistened with tears and, more disturbing, resignation. This was no woman as he
initially believed. It was a young girl.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The warden slapped the girl again. The crack
ricocheted off the walls, and she slumped dazed into the warden’s arms. Having
subdued her struggles, the man dragged her to the bed and flung her across it.
She curled into a tight ball and whimpered. The warden grabbed her thin ankle
and yanked her toward the edge of the bed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Quit your yammering!” He climbed atop her, clasping
her wrists in one hand. “You should be honored that I would bring a smut like
you to my bed!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Blood pounded in Drakon’s ears. Unbidden, dark
memories rushed to the surface of his mind.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">A slave child. Powerless. Drakon blinked and shook his
head, trying to dislodge the memory.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Nausea rolled through him. His blood heated in his
veins.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Hay scratching tender skin.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Powerless.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">With effort, he forced the memories back, slamming the
door on their mental prison. Yet, the rage left in their wake had Drakon
darting silently from the shadows and toward the warden, who tore at the girl’s
clothing, before he realized he was moving.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The warden stiffened with awareness, some part of his
inebriated psyche realizing they were not alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Too late. Drakon’s blade slipped in the hollow at the
base of the man’s skull. The body jerked. Drakon twisted, severing the spine,
and yanked the dagger free. The body slumped forward.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Blood gushed from the wound, coating the bed and the
startled girl beneath. He pushed the body aside and freed her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Wide, oddly ancient eyes––much too knowing for a
child—peered back at him from a tear-streaked face mottled with bruises. She
sucked in a deep breath, a preamble to a scream. His hand clamped over her
mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Do. Not. Scream. I won’t harm you, but you will
remain silent.” He stared into her shining, unblinking eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Nod if you understand.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She nodded slowly, and he peeled his hand away, ready
to place it back. She didn’t scream but sat up and eyed him with caution. He
grabbed an unsoiled coverlet from the bed and tossed it at her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Cover yourself and get out of here. Tell no one of
what you’ve seen.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Even as he uttered the command, he knew he was being a
fool. The only way to ensure her silence was to kill her, but he couldn’t bring
himself to kill an innocent. No doubt, her short life was filled with
atrocities for which this night was but a culmination. Her petite frame
trembled beneath the coverlet.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">No. Drakon was not so far gone that he would kill a
slave girl. His soul was black and withered, but he had not delivered it to the
pits of Targarius. Not yet.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The girl’s throat worked. “Th–thank you.” Her voice
was an unsteady whisper in the quiet chamber.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He cleared his throat. Her thanks unsettled him for
reasons he didn’t want to acknowledge. He turned, focusing on the warden, and
grimaced at the mess he had made. Blood soaked the bed beneath the corpse and
pooled on the floor. A frozen mask of surprise rested on the man’s face. His
pale-blue eyes locked on the nothingness of death. Already pale skin drained of
its color as blood leaked from the body.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Drakon took in the tattooed runes on the warden’s
skin. All that power and useless against a simple dagger. In the mage’s
assurance in his magical superiority, he never suspected or spelled against
nonmagical attacks. It was the way of nobles—arrogance above intellect.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Drakon sighed. The man’s death would never pass for
natural causes. His moment of untethered emotion destroyed weeks of planning.
The outburst he exhibited was out of character. His lapse of control annoyed
him, but he couldn’t dwell on it. He had to plan his next steps, or they would
be his last.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">There was only one recourse left to him. He would
remove himself from the city before the warden’s body was discovered. But
before he fled, he would retrieve the other reason he was eager for this
mission. He bent over the body, rummaging through the folds of the robes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Where is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He rolled the corpse on its stomach and patted it
down. He cursed. Nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The warden always carried an object of power when he
visited Sura City. Indeed, this mission excited Drakon for this reason. Desire
to own such an object clouded his logic. In hindsight, it went to reason the
warden would travel to court with additional protection. Nobles and commoners
alike distrusted the king and the royal mage. The Jenna Warden would’ve been a
fool not to travel with safeguards. However, the man wouldn’t carry such items
in his dwelling.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He should have understood this sooner.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Drakon stood with a grunt of frustration, wiped his
blade on his leathers, and returned it to its sheath. If the mission went
according to plan, he would’ve had time to search the chamber. As it were, he
would be leaving without his prize.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He spared a glance at the girl. Shock had yet to
release her from its grasp. If the warden’s guards found her, they would
sacrifice her in Drakon’s stead. He hoped she didn’t waste his gift of mercy.
She would live or die by her action or inaction alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He sprinted to the window and glanced out. No sentries
stood guard or moved across the grounds. That was good, and no one would enter
the warden’s chamber until the maid arrived for the morning cleaning. Drakon
would be long gone by then. As if summoned by the thought, a creak sounded from
the door.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Rainore? What the devil is taking so long? Finish
with the—”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">A slender man, clad in nothing more than skin and his
mage tattoos, stopped mid-stride into the room. His pale-blue eyes locked on
Drakon’s cloaked figure, widened, and then flicked to the body cradled in a
crimson stain on the bed.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He screamed.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
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<!--[endif]--></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilb4Ugdzp1WFnSw98AF8X18C3piARTEnbS6JHtxmlqJUMJQ6H192hq_BflM4ztS9pkGrhXf4yWPJb52jaVMtBP8JYHBMds6mlrLy09CFEo2SBWPDjQHh5qsTw-45g0Jjn3sMi-I0cn4PBpV3Cg795Z1avEMpBi_2Uh2A11MqIJp7wwerTA2yAw5W5zpiCq/s1614/author2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1614" data-original-width="1080" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilb4Ugdzp1WFnSw98AF8X18C3piARTEnbS6JHtxmlqJUMJQ6H192hq_BflM4ztS9pkGrhXf4yWPJb52jaVMtBP8JYHBMds6mlrLy09CFEo2SBWPDjQHh5qsTw-45g0Jjn3sMi-I0cn4PBpV3Cg795Z1avEMpBi_2Uh2A11MqIJp7wwerTA2yAw5W5zpiCq/w134-h200/author2.jpg" width="134" /></a></div>About the Author: </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">D.T. Stubblefield was born and raised in a rural town in South Carolina. After reading Skeleton Crew by Stephen King, she was certain she would grow up to be an amazing writer. Those plans were placed on hold when she decided to study mass communications and not creative writing in college. After graduating, much to the disappointment of her seven-year-old self, D.T. did not become a writer or journalist, instead, she entered the world of the federal government as an editor and eventually became a manager.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Craving an outlet from the pressures of her job, D.T. did what she always did during stressful periods: she wrote. She wrote the beginnings of many novels (some of which were so bad they will never see the light of day!). She wrote during her lunch breaks, in the middle of the night, and on the weekends.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Until one day, D.T. wrote a story she fell in love with. A story that she couldn’t wait to share with the world. She wrote a story set in a kingdom trapped within a magical barrier, terrorized by monsters, and where an assassin was foretold to unite warring peoples and overthrow a demonic goddess. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The premise of The Siphoning was born six years ago while D.T. sat in evening traffic on I-495, and now she is ready to share it with the world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Website: <a href="https://dtstubblefield.com/">https://dtstubblefield.com/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/DT_Stubblefield">https://twitter.com/DT_Stubblefield</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/dt.stubblefield/">https://www.instagram.com/dt.stubblefield/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100092550623825">https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100092550623825</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8093810.D_T_Stubblefield">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8093810.D_T_Stubblefield</a></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ELVvNR18GmhBJfQvUMcuMocRd7udW-wMHZcEodyjZNN4MPAIm2v-YwXlQNh6gg8_a8eok0q2KhOBiNurkN44scyoxMXwRDAE4JFEN_d64mvu7YBl74CrVINavjVsBBz4S82-jXvaTbUc5LDcj0Gc5OCLl2xPRc8XCB9O0q6yDrUpDpNJXLr3XbMTCN17/s1080/The%20Siphoning%20%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ELVvNR18GmhBJfQvUMcuMocRd7udW-wMHZcEodyjZNN4MPAIm2v-YwXlQNh6gg8_a8eok0q2KhOBiNurkN44scyoxMXwRDAE4JFEN_d64mvu7YBl74CrVINavjVsBBz4S82-jXvaTbUc5LDcj0Gc5OCLl2xPRc8XCB9O0q6yDrUpDpNJXLr3XbMTCN17/s320/The%20Siphoning%20%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Goodreads Giveaway </span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">August 15 through September 5</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway " rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway </span></b></a></div></div></div><div><br /></div>
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-89477575012447264702023-08-07T01:30:00.001-05:002023-08-07T01:30:00.130-05:00The Girl Who Knew Death Spider Green Mystery Thriller Series Book Four Norm Harris<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTvtt2o9OEkVObj2dMlayQGJI0ozA5Kk8by2U3Kr9iCxDwQuUcoOWlOl5K5wwVsiezxk5ax4RPnkKY-dtr2fHM31qyB_ijhSTaLi9pQNz3P7YzQgd47h4iOsED6NTfWYCBba23Z99xh4OxEuyD3DXoQIJ92fRgSrOYaZo_SNW_UQ6LJWvasLt8Zi02wO3/s820/The%20Girl%20Who%20Knew%20Death%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTvtt2o9OEkVObj2dMlayQGJI0ozA5Kk8by2U3Kr9iCxDwQuUcoOWlOl5K5wwVsiezxk5ax4RPnkKY-dtr2fHM31qyB_ijhSTaLi9pQNz3P7YzQgd47h4iOsED6NTfWYCBba23Z99xh4OxEuyD3DXoQIJ92fRgSrOYaZo_SNW_UQ6LJWvasLt8Zi02wO3/w400-h153/The%20Girl%20Who%20Knew%20Death%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><b style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqKvmCzs1z1OEB41Dmf-NRC2BegNGAAheEVsp0BeG98bR_WLsBRNaUM7bA-iUUh1x9k8sjK5EyMTGSQ6b-lsEb9pDyprIdcoimmabBUt2ssgvY4Ouhu-OpZKrbYxDgrF2Y25AwnhEc7pu3etrxK1i-yYQmnUVOw1QYL1eJasIVLEAUuEtQr9Veo05cdiPf/s2400/TheGirlWhoKnewDeath_2400%5B80558%5D.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="2400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqKvmCzs1z1OEB41Dmf-NRC2BegNGAAheEVsp0BeG98bR_WLsBRNaUM7bA-iUUh1x9k8sjK5EyMTGSQ6b-lsEb9pDyprIdcoimmabBUt2ssgvY4Ouhu-OpZKrbYxDgrF2Y25AwnhEc7pu3etrxK1i-yYQmnUVOw1QYL1eJasIVLEAUuEtQr9Veo05cdiPf/w200-h200/TheGirlWhoKnewDeath_2400%5B80558%5D.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>The Girl Who Knew Death</b><div style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Spider Green Mystery Thriller Series </b></div><div style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Book Four</b></div><div><b style="font-family: georgia;">Norm Harris</b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Paranormal Suspense Thriller </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: The Wild Rose Press</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: May 2022</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN: 1509242317</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN: B0BJXHH46Q</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Diana Carlile</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: Fast-paced action, unpredictable twists, and extraordinary encounters.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Katrinka Lavrova, who was rescued by Spider Green and is her adopted daughter, must face her destiny and is just coming of age into her role as a princess when she is thrown into an Egyptian prison. Katrinka manages to escape with the help of young Latina American Embassy Guard, Marine Corporal Lopez, forcing Spider to navigate stormy international waters again to save her.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Katrinka finds herself in flight, she and Spider also attract the attention of the demon Mazikim, who introduces further confrontations and impossible dilemmas as the two women struggle towards freedom and an elusive truth that will change their lives and relationship yet again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">As Kat steps into her roles as an adopted daughter, a Russian military agent, a future Russian princess, and an uncommon friend of Azrael, the Angel of Death, readers receive a powerful story that weaves elements of paranormal encounters into the center of the international intrigue that powers the plot.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Like its predecessors, The Girl Who Knew Death excels in the fast-paced action, unpredictable twists, and injections of extraordinary encounters that are the trademark of author Norm Harris's special brand of female-driven thrillers.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/The-Girl-Who-Knew-Death-Audiobook/B0BJX3JSDS " rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><b>Audible</b></a> <b> <a href="https://amzn.to/3OpRvxF" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Amazon </a></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>About the Author: </b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">With writing and publishing in his veins, Norm created a fictional Spider Green Mystery Thriller Series of print and audio-books. Norm Harris' first novel debuted on an Amazon bestseller list in 2002. It was a one-and-done, but now he's back with a plan to publish the mystery/thriller of days gone by.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Except for time spent in military service, he is a second-generation Seattleite (that's what they call those who dwell in the shadow of Mt. Rainier), with his legal beagle son, K-K, and five giant tropical fish. Norm's stories spring from his memories of people who he has met and the places he has visited as he traveled the world. Diversity, inclusion, and equality are foremost in each story. "Fay is an admirable, tough, brilliant protagonist." said one reviewer. Said another, "Lt Commander Faydra Green from the JAG Corps is a “take no prisoners” protagonist..."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Thank you for reading and if you enjoyed the stories please consider leaving a review!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/norm.harris.3386">https://www.facebook.com/norm.harris.3386</a> </span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrO90FEdLtf_7Mxnfc7FfTTPRnRCKflrzJi2Rpv2ZWBssE3CelNVWZgHg3hgeIjGJY0kkJVoJgj-vB-7pTve84JGtUkUmvK-u_EqHFFLCuVoML0qDXYvZ2jm2AhoV-QJi1xk3JP2for3i8lACZIK6hVGcofQd_17ufQgJoqov0-pR_1Q8Hxx-DwOEETqn7/s1080/The%20Girl%20Who%20Knew%20Death%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrO90FEdLtf_7Mxnfc7FfTTPRnRCKflrzJi2Rpv2ZWBssE3CelNVWZgHg3hgeIjGJY0kkJVoJgj-vB-7pTve84JGtUkUmvK-u_EqHFFLCuVoML0qDXYvZ2jm2AhoV-QJi1xk3JP2for3i8lACZIK6hVGcofQd_17ufQgJoqov0-pR_1Q8Hxx-DwOEETqn7/s320/The%20Girl%20Who%20Knew%20Death%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-87831522813602984972023-07-21T01:00:00.001-05:002023-07-21T01:00:00.130-05:00 Henbane and Halibut The Seaglass Cove Mysteries<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijIJsxs-CYc0qAeRPYPT1LxaLkph-88_h3IymtKpZ82ieJMZ4-QA2DvBofmNNzEuboHT6Rg_cuWx_yr2PPRsgSLrs_jvUAQqVdMs7L7GVxmeWevWJtyElHLT5xrEFFOt51nopsrnCKPOz5UvR4PMdgmNxhvOTMvP94Mivg3JGjgJkLzzJqg_B82y-SXpXR/s820/Henbane%20and%20Halibut%20banner.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijIJsxs-CYc0qAeRPYPT1LxaLkph-88_h3IymtKpZ82ieJMZ4-QA2DvBofmNNzEuboHT6Rg_cuWx_yr2PPRsgSLrs_jvUAQqVdMs7L7GVxmeWevWJtyElHLT5xrEFFOt51nopsrnCKPOz5UvR4PMdgmNxhvOTMvP94Mivg3JGjgJkLzzJqg_B82y-SXpXR/w400-h153/Henbane%20and%20Halibut%20banner.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1OXjv2H1ELx0uVssiV1PAAOerIRIpAq6YxQ3LGSX9DFWYAaHeLA1DNgrzI6H8lwI62DLm6Tv1iRsA4EFS03DuCSoPckO93YC7Qn6ejNSR9OwxiUNwE5d9pwx784y7PGi4OLPgK7zEd6mJ82IwymKl7CInB1mtr___Ob5A6MlicR5_9pZ55i3WTP53Cj_J/s2048/received_1745564972512863.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1277" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1OXjv2H1ELx0uVssiV1PAAOerIRIpAq6YxQ3LGSX9DFWYAaHeLA1DNgrzI6H8lwI62DLm6Tv1iRsA4EFS03DuCSoPckO93YC7Qn6ejNSR9OwxiUNwE5d9pwx784y7PGi4OLPgK7zEd6mJ82IwymKl7CInB1mtr___Ob5A6MlicR5_9pZ55i3WTP53Cj_J/s320/received_1745564972512863.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>Henbane and Halibut</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>The Seaglass Cove Mysteries </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Book 1</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>E. R. Blackwell and Cass Blackwell</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Cozy Mystery</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: July 3, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 91</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 28,471</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Kimi Schaller</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: Magic in every corner</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Experience the captivating world of Wyllow Kincade with the first book of The Seaglass Cove Mysteries.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">When Wyllow Kincaid returns to her quaint hometown with her daughter little does she know that their lives are about to take a thrilling turn. During a routine dog walk, Wyllow stumbles onto a horrifying discovery —a lifeless body, clutching a box from her mother's renowned herb farm.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Soon, chaos ensues as Wyllow's mother finds herself unjustly accused and detained. Determined to prove her mother's innocence, Wyllow embarks on an intricate quest to unravel the truth. As she delves deeper into the investigation, the charming town's residents become potential suspects, leaving Wyllow uncertain about whom to trust. Amidst the twists and turns, an unexpected reunion with an old friend adds a touch of nostalgia to her journey, while an unsettling sense of being observed keeps her on edge.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Strange incidents begin to occur, all pointing towards a sinister presence determined to divert attention from the actual perpetrator. Wyllow must navigate this treacherous path, unraveling secrets and untangling a web of deception to uncover the true identity of the killer.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://amzn.to/43gRmRe">Amazon</a><o:p></o:p></span></b></p></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>About the Authors:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOBwN8vYhGrvJ9TuQnp9p2q6e1oXHivVIwnMrgc__BWXuWHurzWdj_n88Ha0n95ti_P_6qS53IpAl24N-WufWIf8uBkicklJwD97DnbBDsYlyofMS-YsTF1Zi15kbVl43ySxpDIGcxo1QcmFbYUX-Blg10zEDmHE0eyJ4l1-l0NQj8Ei0meKT5cbRG-HI/s721/FB_IMG_1672685100060.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="720" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOBwN8vYhGrvJ9TuQnp9p2q6e1oXHivVIwnMrgc__BWXuWHurzWdj_n88Ha0n95ti_P_6qS53IpAl24N-WufWIf8uBkicklJwD97DnbBDsYlyofMS-YsTF1Zi15kbVl43ySxpDIGcxo1QcmFbYUX-Blg10zEDmHE0eyJ4l1-l0NQj8Ei0meKT5cbRG-HI/w200-h200/FB_IMG_1672685100060.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>E. R. Blackwell is from a small town south of Cleveland, Ohio. She lives with Cass Blackwell, her young granddaughter, and Cass’s fiancé. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">They have three cats: Cougar, Crissy, and Houdini.She loves her family more than anything. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">E. R. reads a lot of cozy mysteries, bird watches, and loves to bake with her granddaughter. She loves nighttime and the moon. When E. R. was young she wrote stories.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCwlJ0V87S1y0JHvuQGm7JJzPiYNb4-sQi9YYqruiPUOQESBGxmOnOmWYeZU8q3xM7lDzaBH7vFULCHkdqxUHweVRKlVT3iu47BZ-tAm9e6vQnXV0vOqQ7wnmLoimt3P9ARzw261IJ_OLPnhbupOkbOrIz3lbB9zXXIYujGPOpkNRqM5tpm31nM8Y7a4I/s626/FB_IMG_1503949994171.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="626" data-original-width="517" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCwlJ0V87S1y0JHvuQGm7JJzPiYNb4-sQi9YYqruiPUOQESBGxmOnOmWYeZU8q3xM7lDzaBH7vFULCHkdqxUHweVRKlVT3iu47BZ-tAm9e6vQnXV0vOqQ7wnmLoimt3P9ARzw261IJ_OLPnhbupOkbOrIz3lbB9zXXIYujGPOpkNRqM5tpm31nM8Y7a4I/w165-h200/FB_IMG_1503949994171.jpg" width="165" /></a></div>Cass Blackwell lives for her beautiful daughter. She loves to make soaps, lotions, and candles and will be opening an online shop in the near future. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">She loves family time. She also loves reading bedtime stories to her daughter every night. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhymeMCU-lVn8EJvvzWQsNIi8kZIxDWxkXJZp_62JTqiIt83MpBl6zG6h9DwA_HF_Iusc0AvevV7UDn2r5FAkGDOyLp3t_SzMP5qVyOC_N0HBY54pAkAjSAOhnDqSjvnueBw3FXpwdbiIQKJTbCsso9-0e0y6qJNjmIsv0UJyP2FYnZNzCkkeUF9bSGzJXi/s1080/Henbane%20and%20Halibut%20Instagram.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhymeMCU-lVn8EJvvzWQsNIi8kZIxDWxkXJZp_62JTqiIt83MpBl6zG6h9DwA_HF_Iusc0AvevV7UDn2r5FAkGDOyLp3t_SzMP5qVyOC_N0HBY54pAkAjSAOhnDqSjvnueBw3FXpwdbiIQKJTbCsso9-0e0y6qJNjmIsv0UJyP2FYnZNzCkkeUF9bSGzJXi/s320/Henbane%20and%20Halibut%20Instagram.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="550" sandbox="allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups" src="https://read.amazon.com/kp/card?asin=B0C9YX48JL&preview=inline&linkCode=kpe&ref_=cm_sw_r_kb_dp_7QH34TC2KZJPSJN14306&tag=wenonanapolit-20" style="max-width: 100%;" type="text/html" width="336"></iframe></div>Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-89879113376069747972023-07-17T00:30:00.005-05:002023-07-17T00:30:00.143-05:00Spectral Paranormal Investigations Ghost Guardians Book Two S. Peters-Davis<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FD9hQmx_UI2x-Al2PG6wQSPbGLp1phv__xcZLQKM4EQahvwStcKYIGhoxueW7qIuqVwl8jnIugODhZF777gNYGcg_avQ9yydzRiBxHdE-BGjbwiHZ1UAMILEVjIy749Ep_KN5kLaXNjlXfXY3QZ5XS97N9-RCBqfrXzGIp288QnkBIKxu_-8idRHk2qc/s820/_Spectral%20Paranormal%20Banner.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FD9hQmx_UI2x-Al2PG6wQSPbGLp1phv__xcZLQKM4EQahvwStcKYIGhoxueW7qIuqVwl8jnIugODhZF777gNYGcg_avQ9yydzRiBxHdE-BGjbwiHZ1UAMILEVjIy749Ep_KN5kLaXNjlXfXY3QZ5XS97N9-RCBqfrXzGIp288QnkBIKxu_-8idRHk2qc/w400-h153/_Spectral%20Paranormal%20Banner.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHoLJngge6xSI3kwFzUjvLDxA_FYBJixiEfznZAa7QB8h9LsdeX_F_vmLq2AMMghk-SnBy2Pwny-skEC8XwUQZpmiKm0U3wb10-dssg6xjqJqt0ciYOIj-Hn2kcqSuBrojndfvWawk_lcGFmk_oy-UEqxyvHnp7YDrl_Srlfq_04Nr37vg2IvVjRL1r_Y/s2560/SPI%20Ebook%20cover%20(1).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHoLJngge6xSI3kwFzUjvLDxA_FYBJixiEfznZAa7QB8h9LsdeX_F_vmLq2AMMghk-SnBy2Pwny-skEC8XwUQZpmiKm0U3wb10-dssg6xjqJqt0ciYOIj-Hn2kcqSuBrojndfvWawk_lcGFmk_oy-UEqxyvHnp7YDrl_Srlfq_04Nr37vg2IvVjRL1r_Y/s320/SPI%20Ebook%20cover%20(1).jpg" width="200" /></a></div><b>Spectral Paranormal Investigations</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Ghost Guardians </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Book Two</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>S. Peters-Davis</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Paranormal Suspense Romance Thriller, Paranormal Romance, New Adult, Suspense-Mystery</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: BWL Publishing, Inc. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: July 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN 9780228626442 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 54,000</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Pandora Designs</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>SPI (Spectral Paranormal Investigations) The team’s mission: Rescue ALL spirits left behind, even the evil ones. Murder, Mystery, and Mayhen…in ghost form</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Bri Lancaster and Kyle Benton (SPI ghost detectives) investigate an 1880s rundown, haunted mansion in the middle of nowhere during one of the harshest winters remembered.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The SPI team uncovers that the evil entity bound to the mansion has trapped innocent spirits into an endless loop of abuse, sorrow, and the ultimate…death. In order to rescue the captives, the team discovers they must first defeat the crazed, abusive ghost.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">But what happens when SPI team member, Kyle, goes comatose and the only way to rescue him is to extract the horrifying evil entity from Kyle’s body?</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">
<b><a href="https://amzn.to/3CJOUbb">Amazon</a>
<a href="https://books2read.com/SPI-Spectral-Paranormal-Investigations">Books2Read</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/spi-s-peters-davis/1143682188;jsessionid=778D95A290B9A39744870F440FA29D9E.prodny_store02-atgap02?ean=2940166070609&st=AFF&2sid=Draft2Digital_7968444_NA&sourceId=AFFDraft2Digital">BN</a> <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/spi-spectral-paranormal-investigations">Kobo</a> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1410058">Smashwords</a></b></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: times;"></span></b></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: times;">Excerpt</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><i><span style="font-family: times;">Bri’s
point of view</span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“We’re fine but a bit rattled.” Kyle glanced at me and
then back at his father. “Sorry for the late visit, but I wanted you to hear
what happened firsthand. Let’s sit at the kitchen table.” Kyle grabbed my hand
and pulled me to a chair.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Miles shook his head as he pulled off his outside gear
and settled into a chair across from Kyle and me. “I had no idea the weather
would turn into a snowstorm, more like a blizzard. It took some time for you to
get back here, didn’t it?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Sorry about that. Glad you made it without incident.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Well, about that…” Kyle nodded toward me. “Tell Dad
everything.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">I did, not leaving out the woman in the window or the
scary-looking man in the mansion doorway, or how the appearance of the building
went back in time to brand new. Nor did I skip describing the sign I saw that
disappeared or the distance we’d driven when we saw the last two women and how
something must be keeping them stuck there. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Wow, I had no idea that kind of history was attached
to the old mansion. It makes me think of the bordello stories my grandparents
shared. Turned out more of a horror story.” Miles stared at me. “Did you open
doors to any of the rooms upstairs?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“None. The vibe came across as pure evil.” A chill
zipped up my spine like a sawblade, making me shiver, and my eyes slammed shut.
Everything went dark. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Then suddenly, I popped back to the mansion, reliving
each moment there. Only this time, my trip ended with me standing in front of
the black-eyed man at the door. His arms reached toward me. My paralyzed body
couldn’t move as he grabbed my shoulders with stabbing force. I said, “I have
no fear,” repeating the mantra. His mouth stretched open, long and wide, and
his pointed teeth lengthened. The familiar stench coated my face, the same as
my earlier visit. Then I said, “I am filled with love and light; the Divine is
my shield.” Before I could repeat the mantra, his mouth closed, and he vanished
into a cloud of black smoke.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Voices called my name, echoing inside my brain until I
forced my eyes open to Kyle’s handsome face. His warm hands released each side
of my head.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“What happened to you? It’s like you passed out in the
chair, then after a bit, you’re repeating a mantra. Dad and I hollered your
name, but you couldn’t hear us.” Kyle studied my face. “You did pass out,
didn’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“I’ve never experienced anything like what just
happened. I’m not sure how it happened, but I returned to the mansion and got a
good picture of that man’s appearance. I believe his clothing dates back to
that of the 1885 plaque. That’s a starting point for research of when the place
was built and who owned it.” My heart beat like a mountain of drums in my
chest. “Some horrific trauma must have happened to that man to make him so
vile. He wanted to hurt me, maybe even kill me.”</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span><br /><br />
<!--[endif]--></p></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj89XY2KvhbZWAfjvdQNGve88D7YjZLtf1o629MRKekXxBHPd648pN3Pdz4fyq9zEWnK_xHieMctBPdXSfWa-X7-yAGnO_wMHRI2tA27ILBl4A6Iowbyys1wZiBm8IoXzauy9LEzd1U24p4BQxPvpDUI2XEZjgk2DjFq4vZY-fJNttLZPa1-LpzUvfeQ/s1022/SusanHeadShot_9-2016.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1022" data-original-width="682" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj89XY2KvhbZWAfjvdQNGve88D7YjZLtf1o629MRKekXxBHPd648pN3Pdz4fyq9zEWnK_xHieMctBPdXSfWa-X7-yAGnO_wMHRI2tA27ILBl4A6Iowbyys1wZiBm8IoXzauy9LEzd1U24p4BQxPvpDUI2XEZjgk2DjFq4vZY-fJNttLZPa1-LpzUvfeQ/w134-h200/SusanHeadShot_9-2016.jpg" width="134" /></a></div>About the Author: </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories but loves penning a good page-turning suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. Paranormal suspense-thriller romances are her favorites. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren and her dog, Sparky, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/spdavis788">https://twitter.com/spdavis788</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">FB: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/susan.petersdavis">https://www.facebook.com/susan.petersdavis</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">BWL Publishing Inc.: <a href="https://bookswelove.net/">https://bookswelove.net/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">BWL Blog: <a href="https://bwlauthors.blogspot.com/">https://bwlauthors.blogspot.com/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">BWL Author Page: <a href="https://bookswelove.net/davis-s-peters">https://bookswelove.net/davis-s-peters</a>/</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">LinkedIn: <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/susan-davis-8660542/">https://www.linkedin.com/in/susan-davis-8660542/</a> </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQObU7Px2dC3ScxsBL_jiPDo6tUBdI4ecL3R9GVNwiwLeTMTNl0M2n0ZjYSoztwKh8B7l1SZqAunKS8CireM-dY5bYUx4cn9imMfO5pp4jV2HbWq0rnzgpzkabm2MAoCR6tUpphkJllJuIOzdGEikYpodPXIxQ-YYZCen8r0WanS5d8DJ3W3emHAmCIigB/s1080/_Spectral%20Paranormal%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQObU7Px2dC3ScxsBL_jiPDo6tUBdI4ecL3R9GVNwiwLeTMTNl0M2n0ZjYSoztwKh8B7l1SZqAunKS8CireM-dY5bYUx4cn9imMfO5pp4jV2HbWq0rnzgpzkabm2MAoCR6tUpphkJllJuIOzdGEikYpodPXIxQ-YYZCen8r0WanS5d8DJ3W3emHAmCIigB/s320/_Spectral%20Paranormal%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2193" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2193/" id="rcwidget_2xm8sir2" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-11225936793137792542023-07-14T01:00:00.001-05:002023-07-24T09:38:47.652-05:00Flash Paranormal Fiction: 13 Stories D. P. Roseberry<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcooPcVGvzHRv26cjbDSzlFelW5Oz8MlXwFFvGM3xLRyA5XNFY8cWVeRZ4leVvvae2LnA-Ur9k_9UGCoxwkhc73b47FnQoI4_QmMyp3ChoZPDKLII-Ai9DN2LpuCZzf3TPJGbqKAKBoGSo7TnvoctXskzPhQj8_J1S-U4KUXR38dJwAnUy-4pLVskduDGj/s820/Flash%20Paranormal%20Fiction%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcooPcVGvzHRv26cjbDSzlFelW5Oz8MlXwFFvGM3xLRyA5XNFY8cWVeRZ4leVvvae2LnA-Ur9k_9UGCoxwkhc73b47FnQoI4_QmMyp3ChoZPDKLII-Ai9DN2LpuCZzf3TPJGbqKAKBoGSo7TnvoctXskzPhQj8_J1S-U4KUXR38dJwAnUy-4pLVskduDGj/w400-h153/Flash%20Paranormal%20Fiction%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIibZ4PcQzbo2UW-Fqo8f-69eS2ttU7J7ffMcEJ8NNydi-Hi5JO2Gad7TRgIv0812bIocei3iRvrMTHmWKtwFex-xSLzUEPGRSQT3BX4cpOnnUUjCgzJBbrPS9nbJ1h9_8qnxZYUUI-WlBduyneeWdil2oAWiORQepiYmDTYwQCEQSDfhzzLZRgGlTeezg/s2700/flash%20fiction%20cover%2018.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1801" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIibZ4PcQzbo2UW-Fqo8f-69eS2ttU7J7ffMcEJ8NNydi-Hi5JO2Gad7TRgIv0812bIocei3iRvrMTHmWKtwFex-xSLzUEPGRSQT3BX4cpOnnUUjCgzJBbrPS9nbJ1h9_8qnxZYUUI-WlBduyneeWdil2oAWiORQepiYmDTYwQCEQSDfhzzLZRgGlTeezg/s320/flash%20fiction%20cover%2018.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Flash Paranormal Fiction: 13 Stories</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>D. P. Roseberry</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Horror/Paranormal flash</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: July 2023 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 65</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: approx. 12,000 words </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: D. P. Roseberry </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: Don’t worry. Sleep is over-rated …</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">This collection of flash fiction is strictly paranormal ... and creepy. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Flash Paranormal Fiction will send your flesh crawling with ghosts, witches, aliens, cryptids, and creatures of all kinds. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">These 13 Flash stories are for those readers (just like us) who love quick and fun ghostly gatherings! </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Still ... maybe you shouldn't read it at night...</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">But don't worry. Sleep is overrated... </span></div><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Book Trailer: <a href="https://youtu.be/HiMcUPPRyAc">https://youtu.be/HiMcUPPRyAc</a></b></span></p><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Purchase at <a href="http://paranormalflash.weebly.com/store/p1/Flash_Paranormal_Fiction%3A_13_Stories_..._in_PDF_downloadable_format.html">Paranormal
Flash Fiction</a></b></div><br /><div><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: times;">Excerpt - Zombie Love</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">It was
a beautiful morning, just gorgeous. I was sitting back in my no-gravity lounge
chair holding a cup of hot coffee and sipping away the sunrise. The temperature
was just right and the plants along the front screen of the porch seemed to
reach toward the warm glow of the sun. This was a day that made all the other
days’ worth dealing with. It whispered relaxation and creativity.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
only thing I couldn’t get my mind around on this glorious day was the zombie
that was trying to open the latch on the screen door. I’d been watching it for
a good ten minutes or so, just as it was watching me drink my coffee. My
question: Where the hell had this thing come from? And why was it ruining my
perfectly quiet morning? </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">This
one I was looking at was none too bright. It could easily punch through the
screen, but instead, it fiddled with the sliding lock. I’d heard about these
things. A bit short on brains. But then again, who knew? Maybe it thought I was
stupid for drinking coffee. I’d thought that one or two times myself.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Just
then I heard a voice. “Hey man, what’s that you got there trying to get into
your house?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">It was
my neighbor, Monroe. We were pretty close on most days. “Gots me a zombie, me
thinks,” I replied after a nice long coffee swig. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Monroe,
standing back from the door but still close enough to talk through the screen continued.
“What’s ya gonna do when it figures out the door?” He yawned. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Hmmm.
Good point,” I said with a nod. “Guess I better go get the gun so I can take
care of business if I need to.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Monroe
was nodding as well. “Terrible way to spend this beautiful morning, though.
Still, zombies are nothin’ to mess with. So I heard.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Maybe
wait a little while, though,” I said. “It’s too nice out to make things all
blood and guts. We got time.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“I
hear ya,” answered Monroe. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Then
suddenly, another voice erupted through the morning. “Outta the way, boys!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">At
that point a woman and a teenage girl raised rifles and blew holes in the
zombie’s head. The thing fell like a rock.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Both
Monroe and I jumped back to keep from getting muck on our clothes. I’d had to
roll out of my chair, and I spilled my coffee.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Dam
women!” I yelled out. “Know just how to ruin a morning!”</span><br />
<br />
<br />
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<!--[endif]--></p></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoRMZJ3AhXCOqtr_OCQMVVSyuQtlwvogJcQcP6boHdKTO3qkEgAd2PYB2UxPwaCBFkqu_8w9r18VElNcVatpjlSnIUouDMrSkdJNl8NWm0cdsDaMxT6N9LcdEPTkRgavbDeUciZJy5mK2gaqAgFPmvfrQNREDxNJK-s2g-LvTUQ-j-yhn1HVczAhDHQN2/s3300/End%20IMG_0025.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3300" data-original-width="2928" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoRMZJ3AhXCOqtr_OCQMVVSyuQtlwvogJcQcP6boHdKTO3qkEgAd2PYB2UxPwaCBFkqu_8w9r18VElNcVatpjlSnIUouDMrSkdJNl8NWm0cdsDaMxT6N9LcdEPTkRgavbDeUciZJy5mK2gaqAgFPmvfrQNREDxNJK-s2g-LvTUQ-j-yhn1HVczAhDHQN2/w178-h200/End%20IMG_0025.jpg" width="178" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Dinah Roseberry, or D. P. Roseberry, has been writing about the imagined world for many years. She dabbles in paranormal romantic intrigue (her most recent paranormal romance is Three Months to Change), sci fi, fantasy, horror, and many kinds of speculative fiction. With a special interest in UFOs, she is the founder of the UFO Management Group. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Dinah is also a practicing certified hypnotist with her practice centering on past-life regression, alien abductions, and other paranormal topics. She reads the Tarot and varied oracles as well and finds that divination brings sharp interpretation to daily living and uses it as a method in her writing. Her latest Tarot decks are First Light Tarot and A Christmas Tarot: Ghosts of Past, Present, and Future. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Writing Paranormal Flash is a guilty pleasure and she finds herself in the middle of these quick and ghosty stories more often than she likes to admit. Flash Paranormal Fiction is her first attempt at putting them from mind to media for you to read. For more information about other works and ongoing projects, visit <a href="http://www.roseberrybooks.com">www.roseberrybooks.com</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Website: <a href="www.paranormalflash.weebly.com " rel="nofollow" target="_blank">www.paranormalflash.weebly.com </a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/dinah.roseberry">https://www.facebook.com/dinah.roseberry</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Twitter: <a href="https://www.twitter.com/RoseberryBooks">https://www.twitter.com/RoseberryBooks</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/dinahroseberry">https://www.instagram.com/dinahroseberry</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">LinkedIn: <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/DinahRoseberry">https://www.linkedin.com/DinahRoseberry</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">GoodReads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1149149.Dinah_Roseberry">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1149149.Dinah_Roseberry</a></span></div></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_x74GN_B7VvlN-qK_pBQIX_9ljo11x6QYsv-keqXa8HXOu_2rIEmaeIYCK0l42p1CPQ9usHJHPYuRIoTdsdScSjCS3aAz4bdpw7LDbAXuArEIuEHNmHVlX9XNPwb4oYbTusVGH5OYfBr9ueb2yfQlbD_KVc4IQvot3_hT6TdKhHuw24qMvCtrlCKKeRJ/s1080/Flash%20Paranormal%20Fiction%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_x74GN_B7VvlN-qK_pBQIX_9ljo11x6QYsv-keqXa8HXOu_2rIEmaeIYCK0l42p1CPQ9usHJHPYuRIoTdsdScSjCS3aAz4bdpw7LDbAXuArEIuEHNmHVlX9XNPwb4oYbTusVGH5OYfBr9ueb2yfQlbD_KVc4IQvot3_hT6TdKhHuw24qMvCtrlCKKeRJ/s320/Flash%20Paranormal%20Fiction%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div> <a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2194" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2194/" id="rcwidget_4n1wclpt" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-16416106608455801982023-06-29T10:38:00.002-05:002023-06-29T10:38:14.250-05:00Spectral Paranormal Investigations Ghost Guardians Book Two S. Peters-Davis<p> </p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpS2B_MzclHkC1VTh8GHQyTe6Q78uIc4zHgd1RWddeFp7wxeHMhR-xEoj8NodDncSf3isZ1vhfgREwDz95K9liCWr9ot-ZzV5_kY5ZLlcTRcyQQmhLZunbDVFWvkjdkh1z7-KjdRP1JgXfbvH_D8M_HcIr6HV-tYhRui8eLi9FosUMtEcD4p-ZZ1oQcsiw/s820/Cover%20Reveal%20Spectral.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpS2B_MzclHkC1VTh8GHQyTe6Q78uIc4zHgd1RWddeFp7wxeHMhR-xEoj8NodDncSf3isZ1vhfgREwDz95K9liCWr9ot-ZzV5_kY5ZLlcTRcyQQmhLZunbDVFWvkjdkh1z7-KjdRP1JgXfbvH_D8M_HcIr6HV-tYhRui8eLi9FosUMtEcD4p-ZZ1oQcsiw/w400-h153/Cover%20Reveal%20Spectral.png" width="400" /></a></b></div><p></p><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHoLJngge6xSI3kwFzUjvLDxA_FYBJixiEfznZAa7QB8h9LsdeX_F_vmLq2AMMghk-SnBy2Pwny-skEC8XwUQZpmiKm0U3wb10-dssg6xjqJqt0ciYOIj-Hn2kcqSuBrojndfvWawk_lcGFmk_oy-UEqxyvHnp7YDrl_Srlfq_04Nr37vg2IvVjRL1r_Y/s2560/SPI%20Ebook%20cover%20(1).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhHoLJngge6xSI3kwFzUjvLDxA_FYBJixiEfznZAa7QB8h9LsdeX_F_vmLq2AMMghk-SnBy2Pwny-skEC8XwUQZpmiKm0U3wb10-dssg6xjqJqt0ciYOIj-Hn2kcqSuBrojndfvWawk_lcGFmk_oy-UEqxyvHnp7YDrl_Srlfq_04Nr37vg2IvVjRL1r_Y/s320/SPI%20Ebook%20cover%20(1).jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Spectral Paranormal Investigations</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Ghost Guardians </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Book Two</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>S. Peters-Davis</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Paranormal Suspense Romance Thriller, Paranormal Romance, New Adult, Suspense-Mystery</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: BWL Publishing, Inc. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: July 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN 9780228626442 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 54,000</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Pandora Designs</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>SPI (Spectral Paranormal Investigations) The team’s mission: Rescue ALL spirits left behind, even the evil ones. Murder, Mystery, and Mayhen…in ghost form</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Bri Lancaster and Kyle Benton (SPI ghost detectives) investigate an 1880s rundown, haunted mansion in the middle of nowhere during one of the harshest winters remembered.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The SPI team uncovers that the evil entity bound to the mansion has trapped innocent spirits into an endless loop of abuse, sorrow, and the ultimate…death. In order to rescue the captives, the team discovers they must first defeat the crazed, abusive ghost.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">But what happens when SPI team member, Kyle, goes comatose and the only way to rescue him is to extract the horrifying evil entity from Kyle’s body?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08GVzxT63cgaceDThXG4Wlke9lWCoyZG2Y8H8JOrNNV3LzrDQnUgmgO0dCjCUXhua9WLLarn4uq8zUd2jNw5Nhbzj2_ESLdsbyxtHL3nw6JsGIsbrA-8rzG1g1fCBjGdxtTU8KaVJf75Ase2w3BFClrx7BjwTneJnkroqupT55Gb0Ko7r72mOq9pWY8An/s2250/June%2029%20Cover%20Reveal.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="1410" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08GVzxT63cgaceDThXG4Wlke9lWCoyZG2Y8H8JOrNNV3LzrDQnUgmgO0dCjCUXhua9WLLarn4uq8zUd2jNw5Nhbzj2_ESLdsbyxtHL3nw6JsGIsbrA-8rzG1g1fCBjGdxtTU8KaVJf75Ase2w3BFClrx7BjwTneJnkroqupT55Gb0Ko7r72mOq9pWY8An/w251-h400/June%2029%20Cover%20Reveal.png" width="251" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">
<b><a href="https://amzn.to/3CJOUbb">Amazon</a>
<a href="https://books2read.com/SPI-Spectral-Paranormal-Investigations">Books2Read</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/spi-s-peters-davis/1143682188;jsessionid=778D95A290B9A39744870F440FA29D9E.prodny_store02-atgap02?ean=2940166070609&st=AFF&2sid=Draft2Digital_7968444_NA&sourceId=AFFDraft2Digital">BN</a> <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/spi-spectral-paranormal-investigations">Kobo</a> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1410058">Smashwords</a></b></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj89XY2KvhbZWAfjvdQNGve88D7YjZLtf1o629MRKekXxBHPd648pN3Pdz4fyq9zEWnK_xHieMctBPdXSfWa-X7-yAGnO_wMHRI2tA27ILBl4A6Iowbyys1wZiBm8IoXzauy9LEzd1U24p4BQxPvpDUI2XEZjgk2DjFq4vZY-fJNttLZPa1-LpzUvfeQ/s1022/SusanHeadShot_9-2016.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1022" data-original-width="682" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj89XY2KvhbZWAfjvdQNGve88D7YjZLtf1o629MRKekXxBHPd648pN3Pdz4fyq9zEWnK_xHieMctBPdXSfWa-X7-yAGnO_wMHRI2tA27ILBl4A6Iowbyys1wZiBm8IoXzauy9LEzd1U24p4BQxPvpDUI2XEZjgk2DjFq4vZY-fJNttLZPa1-LpzUvfeQ/w134-h200/SusanHeadShot_9-2016.jpg" width="134" /></a></div>About the Author: </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories but loves penning a good page-turning suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. Paranormal suspense-thriller romances are her favorites. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren and her dog, Sparky, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/spdavis788">https://twitter.com/spdavis788</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">FB: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/susan.petersdavis">https://www.facebook.com/susan.petersdavis</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">BWL Publishing Inc.: <a href="https://bookswelove.net/">https://bookswelove.net/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">BWL Blog: <a href="https://bwlauthors.blogspot.com/">https://bwlauthors.blogspot.com/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">BWL Author Page: <a href="https://bookswelove.net/davis-s-peters">https://bookswelove.net/davis-s-peters</a>/</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">LinkedIn: <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/susan-davis-8660542/">https://www.linkedin.com/in/susan-davis-8660542/</a> </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq8Yz8OLgY0Md8_lhfo2BQg65SSUqYNVhJWOEvL48SzwZIEG68t-x4JjRCaT65e8zkGi5HIjn6wLgN9HLWj3El4FmpcwxBc1irxfZdcz8YKm8w1SrTcxQ22c7BlPSdRdj_pzGtTSmkm59wZDeGA4EF6PflCmZvt8doCPFgJDGb1t68qtW7ZkJIsxer-UNO/s1080/Cover%20Reveal%20Spectral%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq8Yz8OLgY0Md8_lhfo2BQg65SSUqYNVhJWOEvL48SzwZIEG68t-x4JjRCaT65e8zkGi5HIjn6wLgN9HLWj3El4FmpcwxBc1irxfZdcz8YKm8w1SrTcxQ22c7BlPSdRdj_pzGtTSmkm59wZDeGA4EF6PflCmZvt8doCPFgJDGb1t68qtW7ZkJIsxer-UNO/s320/Cover%20Reveal%20Spectral%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-58835674327734570862023-06-28T01:00:00.001-05:002023-06-28T01:00:00.144-05:00The Demon’s Fire Blood Coven Series<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCzax3R2koRbSa8A-MJIedcCCpMfVid_csmSYsYLqDAgN1P9IqF-r6p_BADj5snLKJvL4T4Jh9n4tKj_Qf2UczMwAYQia-uGSxIXMpcj_EHLsNjtGlmJYN8ktyOul5JSdiFgI2tPeDQAKB2wAcgCgGsOG7Cly8SO2bOTWmhu7iTRjcFbzkWKpJxQsUg/s820/The%20Demons%20Fire%20Banner.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCzax3R2koRbSa8A-MJIedcCCpMfVid_csmSYsYLqDAgN1P9IqF-r6p_BADj5snLKJvL4T4Jh9n4tKj_Qf2UczMwAYQia-uGSxIXMpcj_EHLsNjtGlmJYN8ktyOul5JSdiFgI2tPeDQAKB2wAcgCgGsOG7Cly8SO2bOTWmhu7iTRjcFbzkWKpJxQsUg/w400-h153/The%20Demons%20Fire%20Banner.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vprUbu1OE2tM01GItboNNwe8TnHmkw2oNjkVJEbsyz9uEDrqJGnLJy5JB-b_jEcKPOjfhLXltwi3RB8zgtbQa76vcmPHhbwkYJBcDQBqsl6qYlicSmGXGP8tvqI4SUOsCRzF7yc5bbfIDs6Os5STUHk3N3oBgebV6JDRugZgbgj8H7o-2CydN9d9tQ/s900/demonsfire1l__88228.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vprUbu1OE2tM01GItboNNwe8TnHmkw2oNjkVJEbsyz9uEDrqJGnLJy5JB-b_jEcKPOjfhLXltwi3RB8zgtbQa76vcmPHhbwkYJBcDQBqsl6qYlicSmGXGP8tvqI4SUOsCRzF7yc5bbfIDs6Os5STUHk3N3oBgebV6JDRugZgbgj8H7o-2CydN9d9tQ/s320/demonsfire1l__88228.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>The Demon’s Fire</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Blood Coven Series</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Book 2 </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>T. M. Smith</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Paranormal Romance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: Evernight Publishing</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: May 26, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN: 978-0-3695-0823-2</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN: B0C5S5RCS3</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 437</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 117,584</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Jay Aheer</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: When fire meets ice, romance sizzles.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">He’s not her type at all…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The commander is a barbarian. Despite a sexy smile and hot body, nothing can smooth the brute’s ragged edges. Besides, demons need a daily dose of sex. Skyler Maxwell has no intention of becoming a food source.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">She’s not his type at all…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The chief legal officer of the Alliance is a buttoned-up, prissy human with frost in her veins. But Kole is stuck playing tour guide for her while she’s on his realm. He was ordered to “play nice.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Together, Skyler and Kole are fire and ice…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">She has a bullseye on her back, and the animus demon is her best chance to stay out of the line of fire. Trapped in a hostile environment, they survive mystical monsters and treacherous attacks. Despite the perils and their differences, their romance ignites, proving fire and ice sizzle. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3JwJuEv">Amazon</a> <a href="https://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-demons-fire-by-t-m-smith/">Evernight
Publishing</a> <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />
<b><a href="https://books2read.com/u/mdX6qR">Books2Read</a> <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-demon-s-fire">Kobo</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-demons-fire-tm-smith/1143512012;jsessionid=D3D3562C2452123B46DE020900B02333.prodny_store01-atgap18?ean=2940166062390&st=AFF&2sid=Draft2Digital_7968444_NA&sourceId=AFFDraft2Digital">BN</a></b></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p></div><div><span><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: times;"><b></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Excerpt</b> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Kole sheathed his
blade, turned, and offered Skyler his hand. When she placed her pale, trembling
fingers in his palm, he drew her close to his body. She raised her chin to stare
into his fire-gold eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Kole bent toward her,
his lips drawing nearer. When his mouth brushed hers, rather than push him
away, she opened to him. Kole’s lips pressed hard against hers, his tongue
thrusting inside, his exploration wild, hungry.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Skyler gasped,
shocked by either the kiss or her response. Her knees weakened, her hands
resting on Kole’s warm chest for support. Short bursts of electricity flowed
into her, eliciting soft moans as he pulled her tighter against him, his arousal
a hard prod at her belly. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">When he withdrew, he
met her gaze with confusion. He cleared his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
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</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Choose, Chief Maxwell. Dermott or me?”</span></span></blockquote><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl_xNp59Um7XCf4Te3lANDKeWvwnulIHaXRsI89IeFq-oYAV-T1OEfN32TdHbbMgv8r3ox13NTHXWQQHsztvI5PV84Ku1Zpe3MoMxh1AZjIrmoz3gS02ovOOisom9GYTtBSq4YeMmSNNKi-IHNStavNQRdL2u-rDPeN8QVMUZVFvOOrtFG_jj6xsyOA/s278/IMG_8299.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="278" data-original-width="240" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl_xNp59Um7XCf4Te3lANDKeWvwnulIHaXRsI89IeFq-oYAV-T1OEfN32TdHbbMgv8r3ox13NTHXWQQHsztvI5PV84Ku1Zpe3MoMxh1AZjIrmoz3gS02ovOOisom9GYTtBSq4YeMmSNNKi-IHNStavNQRdL2u-rDPeN8QVMUZVFvOOrtFG_jj6xsyOA/w173-h200/IMG_8299.jpeg" width="173" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">After retiring from my career as a teacher and principal, I settled in to write something more creative than lesson plans on split infinitives and inner-school memos on noise in the hallway. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Vampires, demons, elves, mages, and other magical beings keep me awake at night with their tales of love and adventure. Taking great interest in their lives, I began a paranormal romance series with alpha males who aren't always nice and females who have no problem keeping them in line. The Firebrand is the first book in the Blood Coven Series.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Here are more orts, scraps, and fragments from my life. (Thank you, Virginia Wolf and Shakespeare.) I moved from sunny Las Vegas to the less-than-sunny Pacific Northwest. Here I have adventures with my daughter, son-in-law, and two granddaughters who also moved to the area. I also enjoy my membership at Bainbridge Artisan Resource Network (BARN), a local organization that supports the arts and offers classes and events in eleven different studios. It was at BARN where my critique group began. With equal time given to in-depth comments on each other's works, snarky remarks, and laughter, we have now been together over five years.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Newsletter: <a href="http://eepurl.com/h8rQVL">http://eepurl.com/h8rQVL</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Website: <a href="https://www.tmsmith.net">https://www.tmsmith.net</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/tmsmithauthor">https://www.facebook.com/tmsmithauthor</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Instagram: <a href="https://instagram.com/tmsmith12">https://instagram.com/tmsmith12</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">TikTok: <a href="https://vm.tiktok.com/ZTRs4QYVV/">https://vm.tiktok.com/ZTRs4QYVV/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/23836674.T_M_Smith">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/23836674.T_M_Smith</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Bookbub: <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/t-m-smith-a6bb0aae-e4e8-4ae3-bd1d-75bc29510ca9?list=about">https://www.bookbub.com/profile/t-m-smith-a6bb0aae-e4e8-4ae3-bd1d-75bc29510ca9?list=about</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgbPQ65OyN4Wclav1-dAF-01nxSm7Ub-TaN1Ui_sizhBQ1wzOfJ3EUH8sAhw38u4_OYuqsPbEq1pZ3dnyGuzFkpdmynGu_UKEHrdy4GoxI9ZQ6SKW2qcloTNII55hc_-MPYxf5cZZAUf1nTDu8iozO5kJso6EygrmsyIMa54Hhk3zlyMGqtTZQlnytSw/s1080/The%20Demons%20Fire%20Instagram%20%20(2).png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgbPQ65OyN4Wclav1-dAF-01nxSm7Ub-TaN1Ui_sizhBQ1wzOfJ3EUH8sAhw38u4_OYuqsPbEq1pZ3dnyGuzFkpdmynGu_UKEHrdy4GoxI9ZQ6SKW2qcloTNII55hc_-MPYxf5cZZAUf1nTDu8iozO5kJso6EygrmsyIMa54Hhk3zlyMGqtTZQlnytSw/s320/The%20Demons%20Fire%20Instagram%20%20(2).png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-43720518336365866592023-06-26T01:30:00.004-05:002023-06-26T01:30:00.134-05:00Healing Cassiopeia Charlie Daye <p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOjEE2vIj0pYpSOWy9HI5EPiZL2qn-5GwI-0zQsvR3rr9O5mFAl6ZU1AVVldD-4R9kjgpZ_svg5GredTD-KHiV42TNZ7ALs7LA-1K2dxHEo6PGa5x8zvS4uTVC-SMRSZvzG3Gsa_tGMPdb_GvkOXfMCb3v65aFiQkh8t1418dBwLH2_ss873DTMHRTw/s820/Healing%20Cassiopeia%20%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibOjEE2vIj0pYpSOWy9HI5EPiZL2qn-5GwI-0zQsvR3rr9O5mFAl6ZU1AVVldD-4R9kjgpZ_svg5GredTD-KHiV42TNZ7ALs7LA-1K2dxHEo6PGa5x8zvS4uTVC-SMRSZvzG3Gsa_tGMPdb_GvkOXfMCb3v65aFiQkh8t1418dBwLH2_ss873DTMHRTw/w400-h153/Healing%20Cassiopeia%20%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2_9EnUqT3RfH8sw_0W8tos6JpLUcEKhrzxBNkmEzRnsDMYQ82dIJo0Bo9evDIiACZjGui25VT_vBKqKcGbrYRLLEkCvyE4SX5LXqclwQqFOKUqDxrD9Ptnu5nFg98l3cWBXg43F75E4YGDLYIOp3I3wFKfAyhLSnmzqoYLsiTITZA2cfeLlCrRl11Q/s2700/Healing%20Cassiopeia%20Cover.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2_9EnUqT3RfH8sw_0W8tos6JpLUcEKhrzxBNkmEzRnsDMYQ82dIJo0Bo9evDIiACZjGui25VT_vBKqKcGbrYRLLEkCvyE4SX5LXqclwQqFOKUqDxrD9Ptnu5nFg98l3cWBXg43F75E4YGDLYIOp3I3wFKfAyhLSnmzqoYLsiTITZA2cfeLlCrRl11Q/s320/Healing%20Cassiopeia%20Cover.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Healing Cassiopeia </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Charlie Daye </span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Fantasy Romance </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: 6/20/2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 539</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 96,522</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Charlie Daye </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>What if you lost everything you ever loved? </i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cassie lost everything in a single night… Her husband, her unborn child and any hope for a happy future.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Welcome to Elvy – Land of the Fae and endless magic.</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">In an attempt to pull Cassie from her downward spiral, her parents take her home, to Elvy… A world of unparalleled beauty, magic and endless possibilities. But Elvy is not all it appears to be… there is trickery, deceit, a social hierarchy Cassie doesn’t understand and rules she refuses to play by.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>To Love again…</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">When love comes calling, will Cassie fall to the pressure of Elven society or follow her heart to the happiness she thought she lost forever?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C3J94STC"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Amazon</span></a></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: times;"></span></b></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: times;">Excerpt:<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Cassie sat in
her room staring out the window. It had been three months since her husband
died and yet the melancholy that enveloped her would not let go. But it wasn’t
just her husband’s death that haunted her. She was, unfortunately, hit with a
double whammy that night.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She was three
months into her pregnancy and she and her husband, Greg, had decided to go out
and celebrate. It was the first successful pregnancy she’d had since they
started trying to conceive. It had taken them nearly three years and after two
miscarriages and more hormone injections than Cassie would ever want to think
about, the pregnancy finally took.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“If it’s a boy,
we’ll have to name him Greg Jr.,” Greg said, taking her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Oh, you think
so, do you? And what if I want to name him something else?” she teased.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Bringing her
hand to his lips, he kissed it, “I may be willing to negotiate… for the right
price.” He winked at her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She laughed,
“Only you would use sex as a bargaining chip.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Hey! I never even mentioned the word sex, but
if it’s on the table…” he shrugged, then grinned.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">
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<!--[endif]--></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPx5mv93EcgOgIcSXU7r86bQ2ssDwN1wqr5jtPcIVXUGcVV-nLfNHhLCpZWPpQlemLPXAQXoJCitC-0I-1vBqM1R_6Xa2_Fqxvyvv00tjrRKIyB91VGq0FxZDiB5E-9tgSTQyhQ4tlp5ZQHUCzezgcj6jdEHgLAgfGaLDVIYwPP5IMFkC7O8e423D5g/s3888/Author%20Pic.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="2592" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPx5mv93EcgOgIcSXU7r86bQ2ssDwN1wqr5jtPcIVXUGcVV-nLfNHhLCpZWPpQlemLPXAQXoJCitC-0I-1vBqM1R_6Xa2_Fqxvyvv00tjrRKIyB91VGq0FxZDiB5E-9tgSTQyhQ4tlp5ZQHUCzezgcj6jdEHgLAgfGaLDVIYwPP5IMFkC7O8e423D5g/w133-h200/Author%20Pic.JPG" width="133" /></a></div>About the Author: </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Charlie Daye began writing at the tender age of thirteen. With an obsession for romance, happy endings and the supernatural she delves into your greatest fantasies and worst nightmares. She will have you laughing, crying, falling in love and getting angry. She will always give you a HEA but getting there is the journey worth taking.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Charlie Daye was born in Lynwood, California. Her greatest passions are music and writing. Her first short story was written at the age of thirteen. At the time her entire class was asked to write a short story for Halloween as part of a homework assignment. Most of the kids in the class wrote one to two page stories... Charlie wrote eight. The short story titled The Haunted House went on to win her district wide awards and was published locally. From their she began writing poetry as means of expression.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Since her writing career began she's has published several titles... The House, The Colonial, The Reservation, The Portrait, The Gypsy's Dance, Mistaken for a Call Girl, Her Last Request and Breeders. Four of which have been nominated for the 2012 RONE Award.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">For updates on her books or just to spend some time in her fun and crazy world check out her webpage at charliedaye.com or find her on Facebook!</span></div><div><a href="goog_447425895"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></a></div><div><a href="http://www.charliedaye.com/"><span style="font-family: georgia;">http://www.charliedaye.com/</span></a></div><div><a href="goog_447425896"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCharlieDaye">https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCharlieDaye</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006138167277">https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006138167277</a> </span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh71_GQBWVMbIZlB228S7uYeybnqRHaDIrM0_YuTO5heMaVjVw5gpBt5cU7kXntiSjMbfKamD-wuo4I-gfxAT2O7oeyGqae0PigJf4mUs-ED_mzESZYqY6elD5O5u6CBBNEvKPiuAYYcg2AEDZmFAv3VEq9MrgE73d8dLkADP_UUkXm68cBeaFygZG1ZA/s1080/Healing%20Cassiopeia%20%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh71_GQBWVMbIZlB228S7uYeybnqRHaDIrM0_YuTO5heMaVjVw5gpBt5cU7kXntiSjMbfKamD-wuo4I-gfxAT2O7oeyGqae0PigJf4mUs-ED_mzESZYqY6elD5O5u6CBBNEvKPiuAYYcg2AEDZmFAv3VEq9MrgE73d8dLkADP_UUkXm68cBeaFygZG1ZA/s320/Healing%20Cassiopeia%20%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2189" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2189/" id="rcwidget_8gvtg9zq" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-38007521911314196162023-06-20T06:47:00.004-05:002023-06-20T06:47:39.072-05:00Kiss of the Fallen Kharma Kelley<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj_bKLWEOeO7JRI4g61n1mzQGSq4Vw1L3etWE5PV0lDvyz0svTSGx_ROdcchmChTEH-aJbbQK69EnW7h48PVOZiHeO3lCBJWFj3CQokaeCBjOye0v2kYg9nufnDMM-UKRyoEWtwhxKrYrybXhZ8ImcPl4iJRCio7DBifk98guIChXsbqc9pUVK37q1Q/s820/Kiss%20of%20the%20Fallen%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj_bKLWEOeO7JRI4g61n1mzQGSq4Vw1L3etWE5PV0lDvyz0svTSGx_ROdcchmChTEH-aJbbQK69EnW7h48PVOZiHeO3lCBJWFj3CQokaeCBjOye0v2kYg9nufnDMM-UKRyoEWtwhxKrYrybXhZ8ImcPl4iJRCio7DBifk98guIChXsbqc9pUVK37q1Q/w400-h153/Kiss%20of%20the%20Fallen%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHSlZcEQb97sJoFBG8WidWwViu_E49gT50mxYBy5iWqplD9BlrbZ0ZLeIqABpIr53ST0oGrFAM836w2eKImdKBq-DRMAt0hqZcS0P_wz0asH2PhJjni69-NiBYlmnPnYCuC_f-Lc4izl-RMxKZDWuk4kX0K7UtKC9waoWh5EJvjXtrQ29MPrWTlx66g/s2500/KOTF_New%20Cover.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1563" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHSlZcEQb97sJoFBG8WidWwViu_E49gT50mxYBy5iWqplD9BlrbZ0ZLeIqABpIr53ST0oGrFAM836w2eKImdKBq-DRMAt0hqZcS0P_wz0asH2PhJjni69-NiBYlmnPnYCuC_f-Lc4izl-RMxKZDWuk4kX0K7UtKC9waoWh5EJvjXtrQ29MPrWTlx66g/s320/KOTF_New%20Cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Kiss of the Fallen</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Kharma Kelley</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: Wicked Bayou Press</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: September 18, 2018</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN: 978-0-9981573-5-1</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN:B07GPLP4NS</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages:250</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 70K </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Kharma Kelley</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: The night has a new ruler...</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sooner or later, Mr. Darkness comes for all of us…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">At least, that’s what Tristan Castilion, a celebrated Commander of the Vampire Royal Guard, believes. A centuries-old vampire, he just wanted to be left alone. He wanted nothing to do with the war brewing among all the supernaturals and had grown tired of fighting for a lost cause.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sucked into one last mission from his vampire government, Tristan soon finds himself in the middle of a dark conspiracy within the vampire ranks and a beautiful, half-naked demon chained to his bed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">She is every vampire’s fantasy and nightmare…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Zoë is a Black Blood Slayer—legendary demons bred to do one thing: kill vampires. A true ruler of the night, she's forced to keep her lethal wiles at bay in order to uncover the truth, creating an unlikely partnership with Tristan.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Night Has a New Ruler…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Her blood is spiked with a desire he longs to tame, but if he does, he could be six-feet under; this time forever. But with both of them on the run and all hell breaking loose, how can he be sure she wants him to love or to destroy?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Fans of Sherrilyn Kenyon, Dannika Dark and Patricia Briggs will enjoy this non-stop action story featuring a badass heroine of color. It’s like Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance and a Thriller had a ménage à trois of angry sex, then spawned this book!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div><p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book
Trailer: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RSmH_nVg41w">https://www.youtube.com/embed/RSmH_nVg41w</a>
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<p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GPLP4NS">Amazon</a> <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/kiss-of-the-fallen/id1421688481">iTunes</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/kiss-of-the-fallen-kharma-kelley/1129225448">BN</a> <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/kiss-of-the-fallen">Kobo</a><o:p></o:p></span></b></p></div><div style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div></div><div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: times;"></span></b></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: times;">Excerpt: </span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Tristan
no sooner entered the foyer of his home when he heard the rustling of metal
upstairs and bared his teeth to attack. His gun drawn from his holster, he
snarled at the thought of someone invading sanctuary. Someone had the gall to
invade his home after the shit I've been through today? His body tense, he
leaped to the top of the stairs, checking around the hall until he focused on
his bedroom door closed with light shining under from under it. His senses
still buzzing from the alcohol, he paused to get his bearings, letting the
adrenaline stomp down his buzz. Ready to eliminate the threat, Tristan kicked
down his bedroom door. With his gun drawn, he froze as his eyes met with the
stark, violet eyes of a woman on his bed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">His
mouth gaped open as she pulled against the glowing chains that were shackled to
her wrists and ankles, the metal brushing against the bare flesh of her
stomach, and lace-covered breasts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Her
abundant auburn hair cascaded down her back as she struggled to get to her
knees as she faced him. She was breath-taking among the black satin of his bed
and Tristan's eyes lingered over her from the full pout of her lips all the way
down to the lacy black triangle at the meeting of her thighs.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Okay...It
isn't his birthday...and what was in that fucking drink?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Her
scowling face was less than pleased at Tristan's ogling. She pulled against the
chains with a loud clink that brought Tristan back to earth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">"Take
this off of me now!" Her eyes were thin slits as she glared at him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Tristan
moved closer to her, looking around the room for anyone else that decided to
drop in on him. The only anomaly there was the woman wearing nothing but
strange chains and underwear on his bed. His gun still drawn and aimed at her,
he finally responded. "Who the hell are you?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">And
why the hell are you here? I didn't order a blood-bag stripper."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Zoë
sneered at him viciously. "I'm not a stripper, you asshole! Now turn me
loose or I'll rip your heart out!" She barked out through gritted teeth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Tristan
gave her a smirk. "Woo hoo, strong talk for a woman who can't move three
inches from where she is." He chambered a round in his gun. "Now I'll
ask you once more. Who the hell are you?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He
paused as she suddenly took a deep breath and inhaled him and the air around
him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">"Damn
it," she cursed under her breath as she realized what he was. Her senses
reeling, she desperately tried to focus on her lucidity as her body primed
itself for the hunt. NO! Not until I find out why I'm here in this jerk's room,
she pleaded with herself. Focus. Focus. But it was too late. He was so close
now, so very tempting and her body would not listen to reason. It was the
nature of her kind, and yet she despised herself for it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Tristan
tried to shake the cloudiness from his head as he stared at her. All he could
think of was ripping that delicate fabric from her body and plunging deep into
her, then sinking his fangs into her lush, radiant skin and sampling her life
force. He moved closer to her as she leaned back against the bed, her ethereal
eyes seductive and enchanting. Tristan stopped at the edge of the bed, nothing
but the iron rail to stop him from moving even closer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">But
something in the back of his mind urged that it wasn't right. The need to sate
himself with her made him want to tear the heavens down just to have her. This
maddening, clawing sense of urgency that was so hot, it threatened to burn away
all sense of reasoning. Even his stopping against the railing made his body
burn for her. An insatiable need to taste her, to take her, as some unknown
force drove him to her like a rabbit in a snare. The feeling was so innate and
primal, Tristan could eagerly walk through all the flames of hell just to taste
her now. It was what some would call, pure insanity.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He
lowered his gun.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She
crooked a finger to him to come closer and he obeyed, moving to the side of the
bed, finally dropping his gun to the floor. Reaching for him, she closed her
mouth on his, pressing her body against him. Tristan growled at her bare olive
flesh rubbing against the folds of his clothes. He could feel all of her now as
if there were no clothing between them. It made his body rigid, and throbbing.
Never had he wanted to be inside someone with every fiber of his lost soul with
such a hunger. Her full lips plundered him, greedy and lustful. He was already
painfully erect, pulling at his coat to remove it as her mouth assaulted him in
the most sinful way possible.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Zoë,
you have to get a grip. She called within herself, as her tongue darted into
his mouth, brushing against his fangs. He had the metallic taste of blood on
his tongue as if he just came from feeding. The ripple of his flesh beneath his
clothes begged her to strip him to see all of the sinew he hid from her gaze.
When his erection poked against her stomach, she groaned at the promise of it.
Every molecule in her body was honed to seduce him. To take him and make him
hers...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
bastard deserves to die. He had just fed, probably off a human. Kill him now!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She
shook her head, trying to dismiss the huntress in her clawing to get out. If
she let it take over, this vampire was as good as dead. If she would reject it,
the enthrallment would tear her soul to pieces. But this was not a 'stake the
vampire, ask questions later' kinda situation. He's the only one who could help
her out of the chains and probably out of this mess she somehow found herself
in. She hated to admit it, but she needed the stupid vamp.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Just
a little more, then you can kill him. Bite him!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">"NO!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Hissing,
Zoë broke away, pushing him away from her. "Get away damn you!"
Tristan shook the haze from his head as he saw her writhe on the bed in pain.
His bedroom suddenly filled with the tortured screams of the woman as she
convulsed and shook on his bed. He started to reach for her, when he saw her
back as she pressed her stomach against the bed, screaming. Then she collapsed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He
went cold at what he saw.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Tristan
stepped back as he saw the elaborate tattoo on her back. Wings were so
beautifully crafted, one would have sworn the black feathers on her bare skin
were actually real. But he knew exactly what those wings represented.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Oh,
fuck me!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">They
were the symbol of the clipped wings of the league of angels who chose to fall
to protect mankind.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Vampires
were never at the top of the food chain, as much as they'd like to think so.
They also had slayers; stronger and more gifted than any Buffy or Van Helsing a
human could conjure up in their fantasy world.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">They,
and they alone were the true rulers of the night.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Black
Blood Slayers, demons that had the power to lure a vampire from miles away if
they chose. They could draw anything without a soul and bend some of those
creatures to their will.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
supreme angels of death to vampires and the lesser demons on earth. They were
beautiful, cunning, and absolutely lethal. Vampires unfortunate enough to
encounter one did not live to talk about the experience.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">And
here was one, right in his bed.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Yeah, the night just keeps getting better.</span></p><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></blockquote><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span><br />
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<!--[endif]--></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">About the Author: </span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">A Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy author, Kharma Kelley has been enamored with all things that go "bump in the night" for who knows how long. She truly believes that finding humanity and beauty in some of the most seemingly unconventional places is part of the romantic psyche to her. A big fan of the Big Easy, Kharma tends to weave her proud Cajun heritage and values into her books. She enjoys reading other urban fantasy and romance novels and is the founder of the Inclusive Romance Project--an online community and mentorship for romance writers of marginalized identities.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Website: <a href="http://www.authorkharmakelley.com">http://www.authorkharmakelley.com</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Facebook: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/authorkharmakelley " rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.facebook.com/authorkharmakelley </a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Twitter: <a href="http://www.twitter.com/kharmakelley">http://www.twitter.com/kharmakelley</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Instagram: <a href="http://www.instagram.com/kharmakelley">http://www.instagram.com/kharmakelley</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">GoodReads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15662193.Kharma_Kelley">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15662193.Kharma_Kelley</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"> </span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFYAWbW0TDN-kFRkGVwnCFD7YqNXUkGrV_YvsuGkpMUwesgZLi2qJ56iNgdDPhBR0hod8qN8PFigHLA_wGnky843yi2x9iaSXcblfWzg6xB1dLksiVjZcR8aZb8NvAhhvf_hu9DZVAUgYJjsgi230epLfPfOb18Sdb8bciZKgcET-oZEU9meJoPTXEA/s1080/Kiss%20of%20the%20Fallen%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFYAWbW0TDN-kFRkGVwnCFD7YqNXUkGrV_YvsuGkpMUwesgZLi2qJ56iNgdDPhBR0hod8qN8PFigHLA_wGnky843yi2x9iaSXcblfWzg6xB1dLksiVjZcR8aZb8NvAhhvf_hu9DZVAUgYJjsgi230epLfPfOb18Sdb8bciZKgcET-oZEU9meJoPTXEA/s320/Kiss%20of%20the%20Fallen%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgderW-Z7uAoneKYJrB6Jc4de07MW3iKYTj30_f7kCyPG5JvsLFYmDfq_6N6Vkamn-DBz717tthhjRzo76r536z8TH46kH7s2zKpeabpl9GhrypEUq6imAd5uOUW9qH0h7YUmccdBdUudBoEpKQhHmYLRD76sbYZM36gprfw22IqBAAl7Jhjy-fgmjrvA/s1800/1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgderW-Z7uAoneKYJrB6Jc4de07MW3iKYTj30_f7kCyPG5JvsLFYmDfq_6N6Vkamn-DBz717tthhjRzo76r536z8TH46kH7s2zKpeabpl9GhrypEUq6imAd5uOUW9qH0h7YUmccdBdUudBoEpKQhHmYLRD76sbYZM36gprfw22IqBAAl7Jhjy-fgmjrvA/w223-h400/1.png" width="223" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2191" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2191/" id="rcwidget_ppgow5dc" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-59136744006475621162023-06-20T02:00:00.004-05:002023-06-20T02:00:00.135-05:00Death’s Reckoning Mortal Aspects <p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7u112BHhmnsvmBhyS5ieXzbwHZ0lfpYcCHyA8Xk_Ov_N-tHF477XDHEYnIyVqzCmpBa9xmuzLd4nmWz12W7nya_IRKo1_i8t-OEBxveV2gCX3Hckp4jzFOZ76rmY2NHuH2N_QPj-KSUkZA3TnY3-SpnxG5qfKiqiO3jE1HbJeDnoMIoSIr1-GRllX2Q/s820/Death's%20Reckoning%20Banner.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7u112BHhmnsvmBhyS5ieXzbwHZ0lfpYcCHyA8Xk_Ov_N-tHF477XDHEYnIyVqzCmpBa9xmuzLd4nmWz12W7nya_IRKo1_i8t-OEBxveV2gCX3Hckp4jzFOZ76rmY2NHuH2N_QPj-KSUkZA3TnY3-SpnxG5qfKiqiO3jE1HbJeDnoMIoSIr1-GRllX2Q/w400-h153/Death's%20Reckoning%20Banner.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VDDDLCoNxTStdQlbSmoA_TqpYytLc1koWFkuVpVnbv4JfGETG0jS2g_cZn2QBb9BYxWpkHnVyrVHppsEWzT8Jr1K0-g7DyJwO01fIEVwaXwCMfhBu2Lp6RvxdH4yrgvbRt0wmZdTxDVSSGrUvjuJBK4acAsbDZXMhftlXCP74ck_w-MO3lJCpgVlQg/s500/93c0e77fdaf58fbcb8462d4299b37107.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VDDDLCoNxTStdQlbSmoA_TqpYytLc1koWFkuVpVnbv4JfGETG0jS2g_cZn2QBb9BYxWpkHnVyrVHppsEWzT8Jr1K0-g7DyJwO01fIEVwaXwCMfhBu2Lp6RvxdH4yrgvbRt0wmZdTxDVSSGrUvjuJBK4acAsbDZXMhftlXCP74ck_w-MO3lJCpgVlQg/s320/93c0e77fdaf58fbcb8462d4299b37107.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Death’s Reckoning</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Mortal Aspects </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book One</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Quinn Thomas</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Epic Fantasy</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: Ebbing Neptune Publishing </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: July 18, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN: 979-8390605110</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN: B0BRWW31XH</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 419</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: ~125k</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: The power of the dead gods is held by mere mortals. When the Aspect of Death, thought to be the last neutral force in the world, joins the struggle, he promises to bring an end to their wars by any means necessary.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The battle for power is fierce in a world where mortals wield the strength of dead gods in this first book of a high-stakes epic fantasy series from Quinn Thomas.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">A thousand years ago, the immortals were slain, their power passed down to a chosen few known as aspects. The competition between noble families for control of these aspects has plunged the land into a never-ending cycle of war and bloodshed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Tevulun family has been driven to the brink of extinction by the most recent war. When Tarana Tevulun, who possesses the abilities of Calamity, learns of her family's intention to murder her, she flees with the assistance of a band of mercenaries. The Tevulun’s enemy, the Ma’isans, take advantage of her absence to advance and besiege the capital city of Vicrum. Tarana returns to fight for the city, but faces a difficult challenge due to the involvement of the mortal aspect of Death – thought to be the sole remaining neutral aspect.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Meanwhile, a young soldier named Micol deserts the army after his first taste of battle. When he ends up in the besieged city of Vicrum, he finds himself embroiled with a group of outlaws. Thrust into a world of thieves and rebels, he must confront his deepest fears and make a decision that will change his life forever.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Death's Reckoning is a page-turning epic fantasy for fans of ensemble casts and character-driven plot twists, with echoes of Steven Erikson's Malazan series. Join these mortals as they wield god-like power in a world where even the noblest intentions can lead to destruction.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Available on Amazon<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://amzn.to/3MwqfeL"><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://amzn.to/3MwqfeL</span></a><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;"><br /></p></div><div><span><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Micol’s
blood ran cold. He closed his eyes, concentrating on taking deep breaths. <i>Please
don’t let them see us, </i>he prayed to Loss. <i>Please, let them pass by. It’s
not supposed to end like this. Please.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Another man stepped into view.
Then a third. Their conversation continued, but Micol couldn’t focus on the
words. He was too busy listening to the growing sounds of movement around them.
The pounding boots and squelching mud hinted at a larger force than the three
men who had already passed, although he could only guess at how much larger.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">At least a half dozen more came
into view, most of them near Asoka’s hiding place. The three who’d led the way
were nearly out of sight; Micol could barely see their torches through the
thick trees. To his left, a glint of light caught his eyes. When he followed it
to its source, he nearly collapsed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Silvery-blue armor covered the
woman from head to toe, flowing around her like water. Every inch of skin was
covered, leaving only a pair of thin slits for her eyes. She was close enough
to Micol to touch. His entire body began to shake, demanding action.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He couldn’t be still anymore. His
every fiber screamed one word: <i>escape</i>. He had to get out, but there was
nowhere to go. The beating of his heart raged thunderous in his ears until it
felt like the sound alone would betray him. Cold sweat beaded on his fevered
skin. The aspect’s head swung in his direction.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Micol tried to bolt from the tree
– away from the aspect – but she reacted faster than he would have thought
possible. Her hand snapped out, stopping his momentum and taking the pair of
them to the ground. He managed to twist in time to see her liberating a rusted
dagger from its sheath.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">From out of sight, he heard the
groan of a bowstring. The aspect’s dagger plunged toward his chest, but before
it could strike the tip of an arrow spiked through one of the slits in her
helm. Its force pushed her off him, and Micol took his chance. He was on his
feet in an instant, running away from the group of soldiers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He met Asoka’s wide-eyed stare;
the other boy still held his bow in a ready position. Time stood still for a
solitary moment before Micol broke the contact.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Bodies thudded; wood cracked from
out of Micol’s view. “Got him!” he heard someone say. “He doesn’t look like an
assassin to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Micol kept running. He heard the
footsteps of several men behind him, but he didn’t dare stop to check their
progress.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Get the other one!” someone else
shouted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Over there! He’s headed toward
the undergrowth!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Micol fell into a row of dense
bushes, forcing himself through. Branches and thorns tore at his skin and
clothes, but he paid them little mind. The men chasing him reached the bushes a
moment after he broke through the other side.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">His days on the streets of Vicrum
came back to him, lessons born from a thousand beatings doled out by those
older and larger.There was always someone faster, someone stronger. But Micol
had had one advantage: he was willing to go further. A path ahead promised easy
escape, but instead of heading for it he plunged deeper into the undergrowth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">A thick root tripped Micol,
sending him toppling head-over-heels down a stream bed. He hissed as a flare of
pain shot up from his ankle; he inched toward the running water, but a sound
came a moment later that stopped him cold.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Micol!” a distant voice cried.
Asoka’s voice. “Help! Please help me!” The pitiful cry was like an icy knife
plunged into his lungs.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>He didn’t make
it out, </i>Micol
thought. <i>I didn’t even stop to think about helping him escape. </i>He rose
to his knees, taking stock of the situation. He’d lost his bow when the aspect
had taken him, which left the small hunting knife on his belt as his only
weapon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Help! Oh, aspects, please!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Micol knew what he was supposed
to do. The stories soldiers shared were full of such scenarios; if he had been
the hero in one of those stories, he would have drawn his knife and carved a
path of blood back to his friend to save him. The men searching for him were
getting close, and he knew he had to make his decision soon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">A sound like an axe hitting a
tree echoed through the forest, sending a morbid shiver down Micol’s spine. He
summoned all of his courage, but it wasn’t enough. He turned back to the stream
and jumped in, letting the water carry him away.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv5-GIb1PpPA-OZt04iZOHWWtlODGfbpI7C0Ro26Zn5kM1ClmuIqZ1qTmhIjmP8vYcr6dUpcN1pBEx233ta830SPPzUQwAd_bgdVGdcHqiSMXrN0_pgz2V7mn06OUEMoMcpodWs6IulN98eu7hOPttnTpmT1JIokutjqpMKK9GHf0jOW1IeEC9r5KnDQ/s300/Author%20Portrait.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv5-GIb1PpPA-OZt04iZOHWWtlODGfbpI7C0Ro26Zn5kM1ClmuIqZ1qTmhIjmP8vYcr6dUpcN1pBEx233ta830SPPzUQwAd_bgdVGdcHqiSMXrN0_pgz2V7mn06OUEMoMcpodWs6IulN98eu7hOPttnTpmT1JIokutjqpMKK9GHf0jOW1IeEC9r5KnDQ/w200-h200/Author%20Portrait.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Quinn Thomas is an Epic Fantasy author and occasional pool shark from Denver, Colorado. When she’s not writing stories about people thrust into situations that turn them into heroes (or more frequently, villains), she’s wrestling her 100-lb labrador retriever. Her favorite fantasy series is Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Things Quinn has tried exactly once and wants to mention because she thinks they make her seem cool: skydiving, surfing, paddle-boarding, yoga.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Things Quinn has tried several times and wants to mention because they make her seem less cool: eating Cheetos on the couch while wearing yoga pants, tripping on her own feet, singing karaoke songs completely sober.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Website: <a href="https://quinn-thomas.com/">https://quinn-thomas.com/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/29763228.Quinn_Thomas">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/29763228.Quinn_Thomas</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Amazon: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/Quinn-Thomas/author/B0BS493VHK">https://www.amazon.com/stores/Quinn-Thomas/author/B0BS493VHK</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGbKuuk51I4e5fD4vfr2XxMdWvfxyQ4FQG_3Opl15khNEqeMlVSmwfStVqPhHWOrRzOp5MCPdCvhnUYwCE37mhSNm4Np_gqpdE-IWnt-IZeiYegigwYPiH1cfb75InhzBPgGCRajbrQrWmJW1XmTE44sIhvNsHyzH6mnuCInvn48hDf3ciYPpErlhDw/s1080/Death's%20Reckoning%20Instagram.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGbKuuk51I4e5fD4vfr2XxMdWvfxyQ4FQG_3Opl15khNEqeMlVSmwfStVqPhHWOrRzOp5MCPdCvhnUYwCE37mhSNm4Np_gqpdE-IWnt-IZeiYegigwYPiH1cfb75InhzBPgGCRajbrQrWmJW1XmTE44sIhvNsHyzH6mnuCInvn48hDf3ciYPpErlhDw/s320/Death's%20Reckoning%20Instagram.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2190" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2190/" id="rcwidget_bm1zst1i" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-14038346693916413942023-06-12T02:00:00.005-05:002023-06-12T02:00:00.134-05:00The Blood of a King The Rahmirion Chronicles Book One Wells and Bruzzi <p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmZdzGSRKZyNmmZECi2NK4TG_Alw-rQttHvQ30U5rm92p87E33kmFTDLukp6XRijTzrRpOH05XDu-G53-VM1q9qt12YZYdoCPshEMhJaxFzCTB_Et4PccKo2irHvlcMzpgL5M-LI6iVdHfc1CS1JNNfTcJKRGM78nNT4P1F56M8g8BUp_0Se7sO-TEA/s820/Blood%20of%20a%20King%20%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmZdzGSRKZyNmmZECi2NK4TG_Alw-rQttHvQ30U5rm92p87E33kmFTDLukp6XRijTzrRpOH05XDu-G53-VM1q9qt12YZYdoCPshEMhJaxFzCTB_Et4PccKo2irHvlcMzpgL5M-LI6iVdHfc1CS1JNNfTcJKRGM78nNT4P1F56M8g8BUp_0Se7sO-TEA/w400-h153/Blood%20of%20a%20King%20%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzBNinyLk3U7i_N1-ASNB_5yS4XQ785dZdKPUOEd5LaRlA3dmFnAWbxdFAU1p54noW2ZjVYhRqJE_z0WivAx-HqP7FrYpD4WVl3dlY0J8Kyx9dkwlp5U7VJYH4uKL3vaWuu5fjmxyYDvYYdlpde3rE_9dKTO1q0GGudZaWFhoCl1QtiRyuZbmmKonu_w/s2048/Book%20Cover.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1448" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzBNinyLk3U7i_N1-ASNB_5yS4XQ785dZdKPUOEd5LaRlA3dmFnAWbxdFAU1p54noW2ZjVYhRqJE_z0WivAx-HqP7FrYpD4WVl3dlY0J8Kyx9dkwlp5U7VJYH4uKL3vaWuu5fjmxyYDvYYdlpde3rE_9dKTO1q0GGudZaWFhoCl1QtiRyuZbmmKonu_w/s320/Book%20Cover.jpeg" width="226" /></a></div>The Blood of a King </b></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Rahmirion Chronicles</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book One</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Wells and Bruzzi </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Epic Fantasy</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: New Upper Books</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: 4/25/2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN: Hardcover- 9798986771212 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN: Paperback- 9798986771205 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 474</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 179,000</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Mert Genccinar</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Victory was only the beginning.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Prince Mayson Karrok of Astymere grew up hearing countless stories from the night of his birth. Whispers of murder and betrayal; of war and destruction, all at the hands of an emperor who wanted him dead before he could take his first breath. A night meant to being a peaceful conclusion to the Endless War would become known across the world as the Night of Knives. The scar he bears on his chest is a reminder of just how lucky he is to be alive. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">But over a decade after his father, King Henry, killed that emperor and destroyed his empire, Mayson finds himself fighting to find his own way, fueled by the desire to both follow in his father’s footsteps, and to break free from his shadow to forge his own path. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Unbeknownst to Mayson, his father set in motion a chain of events that would come to rule his destiny. When he is forced to choose between love and duty, will Mayson have the will to do what is right? For he’ll need all the strength and support he can muster as enemies begin to surround him, both from outside Astymere, and from within. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><p align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Blood-King-Book-Rahmirion-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B0BR8MQ3X6/"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Amazon</span></b></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /><br />
<!--[endif]--><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></p></div><div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Excerpt</b> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Henry
reached out to touch the doors, and the more he fought it, the more the voice
of the Raelian emperor mocked him. Tell me, Henry. Does the boy look like you?
Does the proud blood of the Avaari flow within him, or has your whore given him
too much of her mark?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Silence,”
Henry said, turning from the doors to break the illusion. He nearly stumbled
upon a line of burnt skeletons strewn across the floor. “One more word and your
death will be slow, I swear it. You will curse the day you first drew breath.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
illusion had been broken, but the voice remained. I wish to know the face of my
enemy, Karrok. When we come together at last, I wish to know it well. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“You will
never touch him! Do you hear? You will never lay your hands on him!” Henry
swung about, striking at the source of the voice, but it came from within, as
slippery and foul as pond scum. The Beast will have his day, Karrok. You know
it. One by one, those you hold dear will fall under his might. Your wife, your
mongrel—even your precious Rahm shall be consumed by the Second Flame. But
first, they shall all weep for you. You shall mark the beginning of the end. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The voice
dragged Henry back into his false vision, forcing him to once again see the
devastation he could not prevent. The windows blew apart around him as fire
rained from the sky, drenching the White City in blazing destruction that
consumed flesh, stone, and steel. It seemed like minutes before Henry finally
took control of himself and stood before the emperor on his balcony, overlooking
the growing inferno, listening to the sounds of screams. Tiberian’s hands were
outstretched, his arms spread wide. His smile was filled with what Henry could
only describe as pure, unhinged madness as he gazed upon the burning city and
laughed. Even after Rahmirion took Tiberian’s head from his shoulders, that
smile remained—and the emperor’s laugh could not be silenced.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Nooooo!” Henry bellowed into the empty
corridor. The vision was gone, and so was the voice. Those words stayed with
him for nearly twenty years, but he had never heard them so clearly. He had
tried to forget the look of glee on Tiberian’s face as fire bled from an
otherwise clear sky.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRa6pDlTFfUVBbDfq430FAoDf_LF4BsK1FRLFRZh8Z4QhRy1-9NY9m8PiBMhVfI9odMGVgMrb8RMd1_56w43gtbA2I0ObEezs1R06q1vg2Jwe7DQYE9dVRVmrFgujAFSJ2sw-VGfLGoEWcqaTUQn6gJVtTg1ojiQ6Mz7jtrS8n_XbHyEmNmO9MmFcPLA/s4450/jon&dennis-6.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3307" data-original-width="4450" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRa6pDlTFfUVBbDfq430FAoDf_LF4BsK1FRLFRZh8Z4QhRy1-9NY9m8PiBMhVfI9odMGVgMrb8RMd1_56w43gtbA2I0ObEezs1R06q1vg2Jwe7DQYE9dVRVmrFgujAFSJ2sw-VGfLGoEWcqaTUQn6gJVtTg1ojiQ6Mz7jtrS8n_XbHyEmNmO9MmFcPLA/w200-h149/jon&dennis-6.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>About the Authors:</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">JONATHAN WELLS, lifelong fantasy and sci-fi lover, has been making up stories for as long as he can remember. Some have been scribbled on scraps of printer paper, others were left to just rattle around in his head. And that is exactly how this novel came to be.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The seeds for this epic fantasy were first planted in his 12-year-old brain, a day-dream world where he could wander off when school became too boring. After ten years, the daydream had taken on such a clear shape, with a linear plot and fully fleshed out characters, that he decided it was time to give it a proper “birth.” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">After showing rough sketch of one of his characters to college roommate, DENNIS BRUZZI, his friend “wanted in,” and the rest is history. Dennis, a proven storyteller through his work in journalism and video production, is taking pen to paper for the first time in the fantasy realm. An avid reader and a fantasy enthusiast, he is ecstatic to have worked with his longtime friend to bring this unique and expansive story to life.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">“And The Blood of a King is only the tip of the iceberg,” promise Jonathan and Dennis. There are eight more books planned in this epic fantasy series.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.wellsandbruzzi.com">https://www.wellsandbruzzi.com</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://facebook.com/wellsbruzzi/">https://facebook.com/wellsbruzzi/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://instagram.com/wellsandbruzzi/">https://instagram.com/wellsandbruzzi/</a> </span></div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1TA4QqU0p5_dz16-rk67NVFqC8ho0AA9Xz2OB2726t-l9V0SZPfyBXGNDrx45O1nwoZn6rTP7MWwel9Ew1SJ5Sl1iGDKLC2pFASM8yjC3WiMmSK6IrmV_1xHYTzssB00F_gZMNgSyAzomKnVl1DZsnOKJgv25sWou0txc3tOM615480PtyOWc8UcF4Q/s1080/Blood%20of%20a%20King%20%20Instagram.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1TA4QqU0p5_dz16-rk67NVFqC8ho0AA9Xz2OB2726t-l9V0SZPfyBXGNDrx45O1nwoZn6rTP7MWwel9Ew1SJ5Sl1iGDKLC2pFASM8yjC3WiMmSK6IrmV_1xHYTzssB00F_gZMNgSyAzomKnVl1DZsnOKJgv25sWou0txc3tOM615480PtyOWc8UcF4Q/s320/Blood%20of%20a%20King%20%20Instagram.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-89472729836509973362023-06-09T02:30:00.004-05:002023-06-09T02:30:00.140-05:00Prophecy of Gods and Crows Clan of Shadows Series Book One C.D. Britt<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPIwQVBtYYxEhXa3lZM2rDzqW5VS8gn6iSQr54fKW9_t1nT-JIhvFVv7IB5Tq7Y3Xvbp0vi9bCt3I5xHJICArieR6qoM_gAOh-xSpPKgOsfaceJYkj3dfQT4_FK39vse_V19-Vr6Rk1-x2fDK3PQDjZvLBBG33NdA0BGl5eIzSj_3C6GTXv0-bjIhMcg/s820/Prophecy%20Gods%20%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPIwQVBtYYxEhXa3lZM2rDzqW5VS8gn6iSQr54fKW9_t1nT-JIhvFVv7IB5Tq7Y3Xvbp0vi9bCt3I5xHJICArieR6qoM_gAOh-xSpPKgOsfaceJYkj3dfQT4_FK39vse_V19-Vr6Rk1-x2fDK3PQDjZvLBBG33NdA0BGl5eIzSj_3C6GTXv0-bjIhMcg/w400-h153/Prophecy%20Gods%20%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfffxwOs4OmJ5iG7ecRvByl4vcDqh1EOQjARM4NJQ44J5ZGgArZwmmFY0kOpuOeUH5LUGaws-b5iSq2Qk0_cgAar3PWydK8tg-AVqyz6Su9cQqj6RvBBFisczTMJraVeyS4zh2AVss2utWLNpwh2jud3oeppRzTGshD0M9tXc7PuLQPww613fr1zWsDA/s2775/crystalallen834_.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2775" data-original-width="1836" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfffxwOs4OmJ5iG7ecRvByl4vcDqh1EOQjARM4NJQ44J5ZGgArZwmmFY0kOpuOeUH5LUGaws-b5iSq2Qk0_cgAar3PWydK8tg-AVqyz6Su9cQqj6RvBBFisczTMJraVeyS4zh2AVss2utWLNpwh2jud3oeppRzTGshD0M9tXc7PuLQPww613fr1zWsDA/s320/crystalallen834_.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>Prophecy of Gods and Crows</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Clan of Shadows Series</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Book One</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>C.D. Britt</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Genre: Fantasy/ Dystopian/ Celtic Mythology </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Publisher: C.D. Britt</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Date of Publication: 06/06/2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN: 978-1-7372652-8-3</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ASIN: B0BRDHTFZX</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Number of pages: 362</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Word Count: 98,220</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Cover Artist: GermanCreative</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Tagline: Bryndis Kenneally is an anomaly, which is saying something when you live in a place once called Hell.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Welcome to Ifreann.... once known as Hell's Gate.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Bryndis Kenneally is an anomaly, which is saying something when you live in a place once called Hell.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Despite being born into a family of healers, she is unable to follow in their footsteps since disturbing visions overwhelm her with almost every human touch.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">With few allies at her back, she keeps her head down… until a freak sandstorm brings more than she bargained for—a man of shadows who seeks retribution, a crow that follows her everywhere, and two strangers who appear inside the locked gates of Ifreann.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Two strangers with a message for Bryndis and her friends.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">But will these strangers be her end? Or will they be her salvation?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Either way, she knows one thing is for certain.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">She can no longer pretend to be a normal woman among a town looking for witches to burn.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><i>Book one in the Clan of Shadows series, a dystopian Celtic mythology paranormal (slow burn) romance series. It has elements of cli-fi and quiet a few morally gray characters.</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><i>TW: religious trauma, sexual content, abuse (past and present by family member), scenes of war</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Book Trailer: </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@cdbrittauthor/video/7226769276424703275">https://www.tiktok.com/@cdbrittauthor/video/7226769276424703275</a> </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Available at Amazon</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3IdvI8U"><b>https://amzn.to/3IdvI8U</b></a></span></div><div><br /></div></div><div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Excerpt</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Bryn
swayed her body to the last of the music, the night ending slowly as people
stumbled and laughed after having allowed themselves the pleasure of being
human one night of the year.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Soon
enough, only the light of the torches were left aside from the fires that
burned only once a year along the street. The shadows took over the celebration
as they danced along the buildings.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
feeling in her gut, the warning, grew at a rapid rate and she found herself
standing and looking around.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“What’s
wrong?” Niamh asked, standing as well, looking for a threat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“I’m
not sure. I’ve had this bad feeling…” Bryn whispered as her system flooded with
adrenaline. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
warning horns split open the joyous atmosphere of the night like a knife. The
screams of the people matching the horns as they ran from the streets to take cover
from the unknown danger. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Bryn
and Niamh both turned as one toward the gate as small dust devils made their
way along the street, trailing the panicked townspeople as they ran, shoving at
each other like wild, mindless animals. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Sandstorm,”
Niamh whispered, her eyes focused on something past the gates. Words in another
language Bryn had never heard soon left Niamh’s lips. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">In
her own panicked state, Bryn tried to calm her nerves, debating on if she could
make it back to her apartment or if she needed to take cover with Niamh. The
fact that Niamh was in a trance, staring intensely at the gate, made her hand
twitch with the urge to slap Niamh out of it. <br />
“Sandstorm!” Justin yelled as he ran down the road toward them. “Get inside and
take cover!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">They’d
never had a sandstorm bad enough to cause such panic before. The walls usually
took the brunt of the weather for them. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Now!”
Justin was suddenly in her face, shoving at her shoulder and pushing her and
Niamh into The Sanctuary. A horrifying cloud of red dust enveloped the town
right as Justin slammed the door shut behind them. The entire road engulfed in
tornadic sand was the last visual she had of Saint’s road. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Away
from the windows!” He herded them to an inner room in The Sanctuary, yelling
for the others in brothel to do the same. Bryn didn’t look to see what men from
town were here.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She
didn’t want that on her conscience and since she was a horrible poker player,
she didn’t want to pretend in public when she watched them walking with their
families to church service before she turned in for the day. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Settling
down in one of the supply rooms, Bryn put her head to her knees, wrapping her
arms around her legs. Focusing on her breathing and not the glass breaking,
Bryn worked to calm her heart rate, trying to ignore the sobs of the other
women in the dark room as the glass broke and the wind howled. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Finian
whined, having moved back to Justin’s side.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
only light was from the cracked door Justin looked through, flinching every
once in a while as he watched the storm bear down on their little town. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Calm
yourselves. Your yelling isn’t going to change the course of this storm,” Niamh
chided, her voice barely audible over the furniture breaking outside of their
little room. Bryn was surprised by the calmness in Niamh’s voice as her
business was being torn apart. Her whole life was in The Sanctuary.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">A
tingling started in her fingers and toes, as well as the all too familiar
feeling of ants under her skin. Bryn rubbed along her arms at the same time as
Justin, their movements mirroring each other. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Looking
to Niamh, her eyes focused on the wall as if she could see through it, as if
her focus could stop the destruction, Bryn patted the woman on the shoulder
before she pulled back.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Her
skin was growing more sensitive and the anxiety building up inside her was
becoming a raging inferno. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“I
am here, come to me, my child,” Bryn heard the whispered words, and looked for
who was speaking. No one else looked around for the voice, as if they hadn’t
heard it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Bryn
was sure her heart stopped. Was this a vision? It didn’t feel like one.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">When
Justin looked at her, his eyes confused, she realized it wasn’t just her who had
heard the whispered plea.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
distraction of Justin kept her from noticing one of the men in the room sitting
too close to her, his fingers brushing hers and she knew before it happened she
was going into a vision. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Feeling
it come upon her, she scooted away from him, further into the corner of the
room right as the black stole over her vision.<br />
</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></b></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: times;"></span></b></p></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQFl49WoBEUmY84Dqd7Wu73mFMGTzo9dSY8S1wOaHyqKETrYMjoxUbDW_GpZXv4G4cly5e1WowtzQktsubQToSfgIJGfflX0BTL1sdbZxYrce8xJ90-8dDwnla-uglNhdlouu7BIP6An-jqMrF1pAWqndZwWk3XJDo6B7N-nUblKPGluldKVro1aqbQ/s320/259178815_871049606926312_2467775597738381978_n.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="320" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQFl49WoBEUmY84Dqd7Wu73mFMGTzo9dSY8S1wOaHyqKETrYMjoxUbDW_GpZXv4G4cly5e1WowtzQktsubQToSfgIJGfflX0BTL1sdbZxYrce8xJ90-8dDwnla-uglNhdlouu7BIP6An-jqMrF1pAWqndZwWk3XJDo6B7N-nUblKPGluldKVro1aqbQ/w200-h200/259178815_871049606926312_2467775597738381978_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">C.D. Britt began her writing journey when her husband told her she needed to use her excessive imagination to write stories as opposed to creating a daily narrative for him. Ever since she penned her first words, life has been a lot more peaceful for him.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">She currently resides in Texas where she has yet to adapt to the heat. Her husband thrives in it, so unfortunately, they will not be relocating to colder climates anytime soon.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Their two young children would honestly complain either way.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">When she is not in her writing cave (hiding from the sun), she enjoys ignoring the world as much as her children will allow with a good book, music, and vast amounts of coffee (until it’s time for wine).</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">C.D. Britt is the author of the Reign of Goddesses series and Prophecy of Gods and Crows (coming 6/6/23).</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Website: <a href="https://authorcdbritt.com/">https://authorcdbritt.com/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/BrittAuthor">https://twitter.com/BrittAuthor</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authorcdbritt">https://www.facebook.com/authorcdbritt</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/authorcdbritt/">https://www.instagram.com/authorcdbritt/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Newsletter: <a href="https://www.subscribepage.com/authorcdbritt">https://www.subscribepage.com/authorcdbritt</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Amazon: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/stores/C.D.-Britt/author/B095PWMBYH">https://www.amazon.com/stores/C.D.-Britt/author/B095PWMBYH</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21592919.C_D_Britt">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21592919.C_D_Britt</a></span></div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKW22FIoTFMzkYwFEA8AKHh1jBxxLHhmcv2kxOH9K20t0sMyrK5fs7N_LzZ-Q17zEbzBUKBMB_4_u_D7gj4fmmi0_xyTSthdvtsF-OSK-KxsOkfie3h-nR1ZQzqMZHTIMRDfXYr6rgNG12eJiPEqcSBaHRR8DbtcFFFqnXnnt21Srt3K-nM2Ik7gUUw/s1080/Prophecy%20Gods%20%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKW22FIoTFMzkYwFEA8AKHh1jBxxLHhmcv2kxOH9K20t0sMyrK5fs7N_LzZ-Q17zEbzBUKBMB_4_u_D7gj4fmmi0_xyTSthdvtsF-OSK-KxsOkfie3h-nR1ZQzqMZHTIMRDfXYr6rgNG12eJiPEqcSBaHRR8DbtcFFFqnXnnt21Srt3K-nM2Ik7gUUw/s320/Prophecy%20Gods%20%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2188" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2188/" id="rcwidget_5vj75eai" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-38561558549722816582023-06-07T01:00:00.001-05:002023-06-07T01:00:00.140-05:00Babe in the Woods Jude Hopkins<p> </p>Release Day Blitz HTML
<div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6i0AekytXXxeAKu1ute2s63oMTsWDEfySvev4DcmqlRt18KeBV7BatoXEO-h6kEERNLb4B59vK7wA5L-gn5FZBSzslgvctbbdxMalZqyjOvcaR3xl15mksav5f3NJtTPR_RfdKDqHt67LRJBoFOu6PmBYgkFsmfkkiHH3Kea5lwbhyazlaBjdYb4SPg/s820/RDB%20%20Babe%20in%20the%20Woods%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6i0AekytXXxeAKu1ute2s63oMTsWDEfySvev4DcmqlRt18KeBV7BatoXEO-h6kEERNLb4B59vK7wA5L-gn5FZBSzslgvctbbdxMalZqyjOvcaR3xl15mksav5f3NJtTPR_RfdKDqHt67LRJBoFOu6PmBYgkFsmfkkiHH3Kea5lwbhyazlaBjdYb4SPg/w400-h153/RDB%20%20Babe%20in%20the%20Woods%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc2U4b0mQboz7iyTDMu5JBHjRvVagn0vVszrlU-rctFIeZA6MpBZL00bIAgZ2W3yb_vCFU1syR8JzwnNbXaeev0TKQuKairtLOMjxmXF_M5JDQ-YffVtO6nLbniPegD_naLVPy_ZDubQbEz7Eg7ervzIHxYcULrrUOKkEqUEa8ADDwyxPhJHz4hOva-g/s750/BabeintheWoods_w17346_750%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc2U4b0mQboz7iyTDMu5JBHjRvVagn0vVszrlU-rctFIeZA6MpBZL00bIAgZ2W3yb_vCFU1syR8JzwnNbXaeev0TKQuKairtLOMjxmXF_M5JDQ-YffVtO6nLbniPegD_naLVPy_ZDubQbEz7Eg7ervzIHxYcULrrUOKkEqUEa8ADDwyxPhJHz4hOva-g/s320/BabeintheWoods_w17346_750%20copy.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Babe in the Woods</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Jude Hopkins</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Genre: Women’s Fiction</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Publisher: The Wild Rose Press Inc.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Date of Publication: June 7, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN 978-1-5092-4843-8 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN 978-1-5092-4844-5 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Number of pages: 294</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Word Count: 72,321 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Cover Artist: Tina Lynn Stout</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Tagline: Timber! She’s Falling in Love</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">It’s September 1995, the first year of the rest of Hadley Todd's life. After living in Los Angeles, Hadley returns to her hometown in rural New York to write and be near her father. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">In addition to looking after him and teaching high school malcontents, Hadley hopes to channel her recent L.A. heartbreak into a play about the last moment of a woman’s innocence. But she seeks inspiration.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Enter Trey Harding, a young, handsome reporter who covers sports at the high school. Trey reminds Hadley of her L.A. ex and is the perfect spark to fire up her imagination. The fact that Trey is an aspiring rock star and she has L.A. record biz connections makes the alliance perfect. She dangles promises of music biz glory while watching his moves. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">But the surprising twist that transpires when the two of them go to Hollywood is not something Hadley prepared for.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://amzn.to/3yvbC4Y">Amazon</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/babe-in-the-woods-jude-hopkins/1143104918">BN</a><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqdyxgJCXz400PK8NLIRv0ICCht7Lr4P3dQSY1PZbqSQ3ElJpAmOeRXuCc7VAF1Io8poBFfnB9rL1X-BVVKG7e9Kf-h3x77lkMsYxDuwqtIgh-BkmkN7aiB9gjXlq6WWBbZ7WB5zq5n6gvbAiT59noaoDIrYaeGwws5s5S9rmYkxzhZg4ztix4BfKCg/s1024/1_J9TcpTCgBqPWqk_rrqhIRw.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="966" data-original-width="1024" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqdyxgJCXz400PK8NLIRv0ICCht7Lr4P3dQSY1PZbqSQ3ElJpAmOeRXuCc7VAF1Io8poBFfnB9rL1X-BVVKG7e9Kf-h3x77lkMsYxDuwqtIgh-BkmkN7aiB9gjXlq6WWBbZ7WB5zq5n6gvbAiT59noaoDIrYaeGwws5s5S9rmYkxzhZg4ztix4BfKCg/w200-h189/1_J9TcpTCgBqPWqk_rrqhIRw.png" width="200" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Jude Hopkins has published essays in The Los Angeles Times, Medium, the belladonna—and poetry in various journals including Gyroscope Review, Timber Creek Review and California Quarterly. Her first novel, Babe in the Woods, will be published June 7, 2023. She has also taught English and news writing at various universities, including the University of Pittsburgh at Bradford, Arizona State University and St. Bonaventure University in Olean, N.Y. She also worked at Capitol Records in Hollywood for a few halcyon and unforgettable years.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Website: <a href="https://www.judehopkinswriting.net/">https://www.judehopkinswriting.net/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Blog: <a href="https://www.judehopkinswriting.net/my-blog">https://www.judehopkinswriting.net/my-blog</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/HeyJudeNotJudy">https://twitter.com/HeyJudeNotJudy</a> </span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HSHRWYrDfKowvvBbeX8voE837yBd0UNdbDG0sWc4oY4UxO2QfLulYqosIUCuRyVwBQFuhhluCjPqO1A-_iJaM2CF41K8EBqX3y7mmZ9m-4-1tppdNWWGdLWYPXfaZ-0ChLAgXQv0CsSjuNivqc3kA9zaOiUF_fvB_gHmOCM0Lc6_Lg0u5xljVDArvw/s1080/RDB%20Babe%20in%20the%20Woods%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HSHRWYrDfKowvvBbeX8voE837yBd0UNdbDG0sWc4oY4UxO2QfLulYqosIUCuRyVwBQFuhhluCjPqO1A-_iJaM2CF41K8EBqX3y7mmZ9m-4-1tppdNWWGdLWYPXfaZ-0ChLAgXQv0CsSjuNivqc3kA9zaOiUF_fvB_gHmOCM0Lc6_Lg0u5xljVDArvw/s320/RDB%20Babe%20in%20the%20Woods%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-85330744595462437142023-06-06T01:30:00.004-05:002023-06-06T01:30:00.130-05:00Delayed Dog Tired Brewery Book One Jessica Jayne<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzUb9s7EcbGravshqQ95BFFTjZUGPdpuvSXXjvdIR4H5KKMoC4oNVcYhqiVInp4cq8CQN5rUWRCy3InkWw_aUE61p7jMfZqAuPr6RmUE1VhJ28Cnd9payvose233QAUawHtMWQqJE-nDSfH2HeRl4_jdiM2A0cFJVAZ0Zm7jBNxCmbe2boO0wyKPDdSQ/s820/Delayed%20%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzUb9s7EcbGravshqQ95BFFTjZUGPdpuvSXXjvdIR4H5KKMoC4oNVcYhqiVInp4cq8CQN5rUWRCy3InkWw_aUE61p7jMfZqAuPr6RmUE1VhJ28Cnd9payvose233QAUawHtMWQqJE-nDSfH2HeRl4_jdiM2A0cFJVAZ0Zm7jBNxCmbe2boO0wyKPDdSQ/w400-h153/Delayed%20%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6d--Q6yzM21V3TjJ1X7aWGaNrXXm18We6bSbmSIuf6_feulqlWixiUzcLJoNcmRIYoOMqgHNb-sjXgioFj5hb5QmEB3ArgC1waqx2wKhpoCVBZfzIE9SNd4yqJ5L-LEeJU-09DzOaA3ZwINDj6rdFqgLuDV-XDx69f8VzqBDoHiJwcXfFsQU9KLclkQ/s2700/JNMJXgh4.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6d--Q6yzM21V3TjJ1X7aWGaNrXXm18We6bSbmSIuf6_feulqlWixiUzcLJoNcmRIYoOMqgHNb-sjXgioFj5hb5QmEB3ArgC1waqx2wKhpoCVBZfzIE9SNd4yqJ5L-LEeJU-09DzOaA3ZwINDj6rdFqgLuDV-XDx69f8VzqBDoHiJwcXfFsQU9KLclkQ/s320/JNMJXgh4.jpeg" width="213" /></a></div>Delayed</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Dog Tired Brewery </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Book One</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Jessica Jayne</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Genre: Contemporary Romance </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Publisher: Evernight Publishing</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Date of Publication: May 17, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ASIN: B0C456TQSK</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Number of pages: 118</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Word Count: 32,000</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Cover Artist: Jay Aheer</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">As head of distribution for his multi-million-dollar Orlando-based brewery, Rex Bancroft travels all the time. With his schedule, this leaves no time for a relationship, not that he wants one. He plays the field and plays it often. At least that was what he planned, but there’s someone that catches his attention and won’t let up—a certain brunette at the Grand Rapids airport ticket counter.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Anna Montgomery was hoping this business trip to Michigan would assist her with the next rung of the corporate ladder. Meeting a dreamy and interesting man wasn’t in her plans, it isn’t something she’s entirely happy with at first.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Key words: at first…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">A snowstorm delays their flights, leaving them stranded in wintry Michigan. Will their time together ignite some heat to keep them both warm? Or will it result in broken hearts? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3MqyqdN">Amazon</a></span></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Excerpt </b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
airline agent smiled tightly at Anna. A few minutes later, she pushed the
printed boarding pass and Anna’s ID across the counter. “Safe travels.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Anna
bit her lip. Safe travels. Ha! How about just “travels”?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She
needed to be more optimistic. The flight wasn’t cancelled…yet.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Boarding
ticket in hand, she’d head to the security line and then her gate, where she’d
wait and flip through her Instagram feed until her plane arrived. Turning on
her heels, she bumped face first into a wall of solid muscle. A clean,
outdoorsy scent swathed her and immediately made her lightheaded. She stared
for a moment at a tan quilted vest jacket lying unzipped over a hard chest,
exposing planes of chiseled muscle under the navy-blue long sleeve t-shirt that
read Dog Tired Brewery in white script. The picture of a dog lying on its side
asleep with its tongue hanging out completed the logo—one she recognized as they
made her favorite seasonal stout.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She
clutched his t-shirt, trying to keep her balance. His hard abs flexed under her
hands. Heat radiated from him and warmed her frozen fingers, which had been numb
for the last several hours.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Lifting
her head, her breath caught when her gaze fell on an angular jaw, full lips and
beautiful green eyes. He gripped her arms firmly above the elbows to keep her
from falling backward. His warmth seeped through the arms of her peacoat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Shit!
Are you alright?” His deep, rich voice washed over her. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Heat
rushed her cheeks and her body churned with a warmth she’d been missing ever
since stepping off the plane in Michigan.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Uh.
Yeah! I…I’m fine.” Yikes. Her hands were plastered against his ripped abdomen.
She let them slide down. It wasn’t just the impact of running into him that
knocked her off balance. He was the most beautiful creature she’d laid eyes on.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Are
you sure?” The intensity of his stare almost melted her into a puddle at his
feet. His eyes, irises flecked with gold, narrowed. “You hit me pretty hard.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Yes.
I’m so sorry. Sorry for running into you.” She gained control over her wavering
voice and unsteady legs. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He
released her arms and stepped back. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“I
should have been watching where I was going.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">His
powerful gaze trailed down her without shame and a warmth followed as if he
caressed her bare skin. Her cheeks had never been so on fire. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“No
need to apologize.” He grinned. “I’d say it’s my lucky day.” His eyes twinkled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">This
stranger was flirting with her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She
cleared her throat. It’s not that men didn’t flirt with her. They did. It was a
hazard in her line of business. Insurance was a man’s world, for the most part.
She shrugged off the flirtatious advances from the men she worked with. Mixing
business with pleasure was a no-no. But this guy… she’d mix just about anything
with him. If she were that kind of girl.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span><br />
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<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF2kjdSObQCwH_gvTOZZ2TbOE9jIuY0rcl1MwQXf7H7HEXsuQzU4wAACc_ZXycQbrAG4iA_r2cTBpGMAsSEWPx0kRQGPD-u9NWjFQv-9bD_0Ewh3AET1coVsPR_8I4GPvUGq4FPWn7bM6F9UMP7TNDVioMbVDQP0thhk7jAJ0K1x_mBwmhDnEwEv7HHA/s5174/Smiths-21.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5174" data-original-width="3696" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF2kjdSObQCwH_gvTOZZ2TbOE9jIuY0rcl1MwQXf7H7HEXsuQzU4wAACc_ZXycQbrAG4iA_r2cTBpGMAsSEWPx0kRQGPD-u9NWjFQv-9bD_0Ewh3AET1coVsPR_8I4GPvUGq4FPWn7bM6F9UMP7TNDVioMbVDQP0thhk7jAJ0K1x_mBwmhDnEwEv7HHA/s320/Smiths-21.jpeg" width="229" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><i>Contemporary Romance Author – Sexy Stories with Heart</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Jessica is a born and raised small-town Ohio girl, who moved to the Sunshine State after graduating from college with an English degree. She attended law school and passed her bar exam on the very first attempt. She met the love of her life in a romance novel sort of way. They married and have three beautiful (and sometimes crazy) kids.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Jessica loves to travel and travel often! She’s jumped out of several perfectly good airplanes. When not watching her son rule the soccer field or her daughters dominate the volleyball court, she watches Buckeye football and the Tampa Bay Lightning. She’s a wine-making (and wine-tasting with her girlfriends) aficionado. She loves all music. Would follow the Avett Brothers to the ends of the Earth. Thinks Eric Church is a rock star. Worships Jason Momoa. Believes Game of Thrones was the best show on television but lives by many Seinfeld-isms.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Life is always an adventure!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Website: <a href="https://jessicajayneauthor.com/">https://jessicajayneauthor.com/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/JessicaJayne13">https://twitter.com/JessicaJayne13</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Tiktok: <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@authorjessicajayne">https://www.tiktok.com/@authorjessicajayne</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJessicaJayne " rel="nofollow" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJessicaJayne </a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/jessica_jayne_author/">https://www.instagram.com/jessica_jayne_author/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Newsletter: <a href="https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/m5z0k2">https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/m5z0k2</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4_MFalwkH6JOYLntdlJ3Af6oBdw8GQ4gCzXOsTKn_PJflmo20_A-3J_QwEnYE-PPcfgoqL1aF4izx4tw9ROftqjtWqQdnKBK6wq_KmkZRv_JRJTHWj_LgaMxY5zZfTMowuSdl7dD3H7z8FEnrHRVw5lqmxlfKgdf6Wvx6PkLOTiMt3AWq_W2_hS5hQ/s1080/Delayed%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho4_MFalwkH6JOYLntdlJ3Af6oBdw8GQ4gCzXOsTKn_PJflmo20_A-3J_QwEnYE-PPcfgoqL1aF4izx4tw9ROftqjtWqQdnKBK6wq_KmkZRv_JRJTHWj_LgaMxY5zZfTMowuSdl7dD3H7z8FEnrHRVw5lqmxlfKgdf6Wvx6PkLOTiMt3AWq_W2_hS5hQ/s320/Delayed%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2187" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2187/" id="rcwidget_rdcamu1l" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-82374678980132718332023-06-05T01:30:00.004-05:002023-06-05T01:30:00.134-05:00So Now What, Harnessing Grief After Life’s Major Losses Alexandra McGroarty<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHSPfGstJCE2B8kRia9_Gif3za0eU3UFYk0D6iRgQx7zlikhOSASg1trpm5hsPulhG04izUQkiAhimAGA2mmIO8ol63l11Se9G96PRYD06JVYsuQmLC3JBm1QjQY2Rr1Uwob3jg86L3zHr_QvM7c_L0Eokz0NUYcuJoDxApmjnTo1nlXSkoMyGLO9cg/s820/So%20Now%20What%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHSPfGstJCE2B8kRia9_Gif3za0eU3UFYk0D6iRgQx7zlikhOSASg1trpm5hsPulhG04izUQkiAhimAGA2mmIO8ol63l11Se9G96PRYD06JVYsuQmLC3JBm1QjQY2Rr1Uwob3jg86L3zHr_QvM7c_L0Eokz0NUYcuJoDxApmjnTo1nlXSkoMyGLO9cg/w400-h153/So%20Now%20What%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><p><br /></p><div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gsHMwRSouoVZyhuaYzCGdoSXlyzNiPxb7C_HwbPY7MShePM67S-4dbqFHLUVt07hZFDpXgoFkm2jUHQl1nyFxBXYtJRPdtadNC-Wh2nrH4sUR9qCP8E8aqUWfL4rBXf1eaKR1UWexjBBkXVj0zdp_5ffnC2yHoRdATUr5caplc8munIwv7HxxZQ8dQ/s2140/FinalConcept.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2140" data-original-width="1500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gsHMwRSouoVZyhuaYzCGdoSXlyzNiPxb7C_HwbPY7MShePM67S-4dbqFHLUVt07hZFDpXgoFkm2jUHQl1nyFxBXYtJRPdtadNC-Wh2nrH4sUR9qCP8E8aqUWfL4rBXf1eaKR1UWexjBBkXVj0zdp_5ffnC2yHoRdATUr5caplc8munIwv7HxxZQ8dQ/s320/FinalConcept.png" width="224" /></a></div>So Now What, Harnessing Grief After Life’s Major Losses</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Alexandra McGroarty</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Self Help</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: Atmosphere Press</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: April 25 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN-13: 978-1639888825</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages:112</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 20,000</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Jenna Gelow Designs</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: What Does it Mean to Harness Grief?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">When faced with the tragic loss of a loved one, we can find a path that strengthens us, utilizes our experiences, and continues a meaningful relationship with that person. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Author Alexandra McGroarty learned how to do so and is now gratified to share her insights. With her earned understanding, Alexandra offers her judgment-free, open-hearted, and fair-minded approach to living with and moving through grief, in whatever form it may take, in whatever way you choose.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3HH4dEk " rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><b>Amazon</b></a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 115%;"></span></b><blockquote><b><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 115%;">Excerpt:</span></b><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<br />
</span><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 115%;">There is an unwritten rule
that in the first chapter of any book on grief, the author must explain what
grief is—as if the readers of the book don’t know. Grief affects everyone at
some point. We reach out for guides like this, not for definition, but for
reassurance, companionship, answers. We may already be going through life’s
hardest tests. Our grief affects our every waking moment—and every sleeping
moment—and ruthlessly changes us from the inside out.<br />
<br />
We absolutely know what grief is.<br />
<br />
Out of nowhere, when I was only thirty-one years old, I lost my husband, Mike,
to a sudden tragedy. Mike was thirty-nine—a young man still—and our children
were only four and six. That man was and is my soulmate. To this day, I am
gratified for having known and loved him. And losing him was a blow that almost
leveled me. Within a matter of hours, I went from being a happy wife to being a
widow. I was in a state of shock—nothing had prepared me to lose someone so
close to me.<br />
<br />
At that time, I had dealt with loss before, but none had so mercilessly turned
my life upside down. I was shocked to the core, unable to process the truth
until days—maybe weeks—later.<br />
<br />
Then I found myself coping with not only my grief but our children’s as well. I
was trying to run a business at the time and had multiple responsibilities and
roles. Some days I felt like hiding in bed, but I simply could not—too many
others relied on me. The road from that time to now was a long and complex one,
full of discoveries—some painful, some remarkable—that I want to share with
you. I write this book for anyone who has suffered a loss. Your grief
experience is yours alone, but you need not be alone in living with it.</span></blockquote><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 115%;"></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWrEetmn2buQTIkRMcOlW7EnQcKjwRDexzYKeOxA5upj0iGXzuyaUriNDZdkbw71Ukuqpev-enar19kKF5JcdTrcThO8PFPiO8uOlSJsgsugPiNNQErDfxt9rDW1EjpqcPFnn1BUR-UdensBIk7fzlqcPkMlPSNoMgexV44mQZhrgFDGybX9CMnVGtw/s6048/Alexandra%202023%204%20of%204.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6048" data-original-width="4024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWrEetmn2buQTIkRMcOlW7EnQcKjwRDexzYKeOxA5upj0iGXzuyaUriNDZdkbw71Ukuqpev-enar19kKF5JcdTrcThO8PFPiO8uOlSJsgsugPiNNQErDfxt9rDW1EjpqcPFnn1BUR-UdensBIk7fzlqcPkMlPSNoMgexV44mQZhrgFDGybX9CMnVGtw/w133-h200/Alexandra%202023%204%20of%204.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>About the Author:</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Alexandra founded McGroarty and Co. Consulting and serves as the lead Human Resources consultant. Alex is a certified Diversity Professional as well as a Certified Professional Coach. She recently obtained a graduate certificate from Cornell University in sustainability. Alexandra lives with her two children, Lucas and Ava, their two dogs, Sugar and Fiona, and a feisty cat named Scrambles, in New Jersey. In her free time, she likes to spend time with family, travel, and volunteer in the Greater Philadelphia area.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><a href="http://www.alexandramcgroarty.com"><span style="font-family: georgia;">www.alexandramcgroarty.com</span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/amcgroarty/">https://www.linkedin.com/in/amcgroarty/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/alexandramcgroarty">https://www.facebook.com/alexandramcgroarty</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><a href="https://www.instagram.com/amcgroarty_author/"><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://www.instagram.com/amcgroarty_author/</span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihGnH6OJQoyZRWHnl_U4YkLB1V-WNdVRBOkkMHL3dUktKxThyoTbRGMPMCTItkPeR9ZejtJD6IYpbegJ9nl7vcFSuukRXzb6ItYmjTDLqhHLXXbfJS3P0RMKZs05qhsZPx2n9kJZVZI2u6QLZqYSQKI_8m4C95MkYKNp1QIaQYyE6J0o714fCaA1RZSQ/s1080/So%20Now%20What%20Instagram.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihGnH6OJQoyZRWHnl_U4YkLB1V-WNdVRBOkkMHL3dUktKxThyoTbRGMPMCTItkPeR9ZejtJD6IYpbegJ9nl7vcFSuukRXzb6ItYmjTDLqhHLXXbfJS3P0RMKZs05qhsZPx2n9kJZVZI2u6QLZqYSQKI_8m4C95MkYKNp1QIaQYyE6J0o714fCaA1RZSQ/s320/So%20Now%20What%20Instagram.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2186" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2186/" id="rcwidget_5v2u564n" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-10042305918503977502023-06-02T02:00:00.004-05:002023-06-02T02:00:00.138-05:00Scrooge’s Folly – Saving Jacob Marley David Weinberg<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy6k9TxNpMhHadz4keU57BGaU01ZfvhhAbif2dzXYSNMdxC1F1oSTb8k1Wskli_xMqgrTLxXrUoIvsKYSmMSVVfgXExbgR-zQghk6BxLHr4-G9iXW04zk4jovgX5VyNXEfYr0G07_uhD38mik4X8pUSXAkAvjT15yelAseq5pxIJ6DGOnhlZ1IejMVAQ/s820/Scrooge's%20Folly%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy6k9TxNpMhHadz4keU57BGaU01ZfvhhAbif2dzXYSNMdxC1F1oSTb8k1Wskli_xMqgrTLxXrUoIvsKYSmMSVVfgXExbgR-zQghk6BxLHr4-G9iXW04zk4jovgX5VyNXEfYr0G07_uhD38mik4X8pUSXAkAvjT15yelAseq5pxIJ6DGOnhlZ1IejMVAQ/w400-h153/Scrooge's%20Folly%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfPDlQ5QI6-7M-1S9jLJdbtfkcN44PHKrTNPe9tthIMilOo9EIRNmUzOBaQyQ0WOBFmVMxb40Dd9-N5mpc19GUUnELKCqSi4wD76xQOxUXyAXSL4iDyLDqKeMcL4fVXi5w3E4L3vLmiFip5gEqFz7Pe82NhsDpCw-KQ6hNYSvwdIlUVuguAIJahkOkw/s2625/Scrooge's%20Folly%20-%20David%20Weinberg%20-%20book%20cover.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2625" data-original-width="1725" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqfPDlQ5QI6-7M-1S9jLJdbtfkcN44PHKrTNPe9tthIMilOo9EIRNmUzOBaQyQ0WOBFmVMxb40Dd9-N5mpc19GUUnELKCqSi4wD76xQOxUXyAXSL4iDyLDqKeMcL4fVXi5w3E4L3vLmiFip5gEqFz7Pe82NhsDpCw-KQ6hNYSvwdIlUVuguAIJahkOkw/s320/Scrooge's%20Folly%20-%20David%20Weinberg%20-%20book%20cover.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>Scrooge’s Folly – Saving Jacob Marley</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>David Weinberg</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Genre: Romantic Comedy/Paranormal Romance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Publisher: Old Fezziwig Press</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Date of Publication: May 23rd, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN: 9798218104054</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ASIN: BOBRZ457N4</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Number of pages: 285</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Word Count: 80,000</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Cover Artist: Nicole Collis</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Tagline: Love and redemption are always possible…even for the dead.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Award-winning, but down-on-her-luck playwright, Andrea Smilow, is commissioned by The Playhouse in Connecticut to save it from bankruptcy with a new work. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">When she arrives, she discovers that The Playhouse is inhabited by the spirit of the real Jacob Marley, and he wants her play to be about him…to set the story straight about how Dickens ruined his life with A Christmas Carol. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Andrea believes he needs to be reunited with the spirit of Ebenezer Scrooge, who lives in the caretaker house. It is all Scrooge’s idea. He has been working with Andrea’s roommate, the most powerful witch in North America, to win a second life for Marley from God…and to get Marley and Andrea to fall in love.</span></div><div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Scrooges-Folly-Saving-Jacob-Marley-Weinberg/dp/B0BRZ457N4/">Amazon</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/scrooges-folly-saving-jacob-marley-david-weinberg/1142930167">BN</a><o:p></o:p></span></b></p></div><div><span><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></b><blockquote><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;">Excerpt:</span></span></b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br />
Andrea walked to the coffee table and picked up the letter.
She held it up and jabbed at it with her right index finger. “Eleven regional
theatre companies have performed Rememberings this year, and I get a royalty
check for $750. How could that be right? They’re screwing me and I have no idea
what I’m supposed to do.”<br />
“Call Roger and see what he has to say.”<br />
Andrea laughed. “Roger? He texted me yesterday. Not a word
about money. He texts me once a year and never once has mentioned royalties…let
us not forget that Roger is my last remaining tie to Brian. I met Roger through
Brian. Fifty agents wanted to sign me, and Brian insisted I go with Roger and
WMA. He’s a pleasant enough guy, unlike Brian, but he’s never done a damn thing
for me. Is it Brian’s fault for recommending him, or my fault for listening to
him?”<br />
Thoughts of Brian hit Andrea like a face against a
windshield. She hadn’t thought about him consciously in a long time, yet he was
never far from her thoughts. Some guys are like that; they just get into your
blood. Often it is the horrible ones that stay there. As the hot water from the
shower touched her skin, it elicited an almost imperceptible sigh. She and
Brian had spent many a shower together. She remembered how he loved to soap her
breasts, and make her nipples hard…until they begged for his lips. She tossed
her wet hair out of her eyes and slapped the wall, chastising herself for even
thinking about him. He was just one of many evil spirits she had encountered in
her life, and he was her past. Perhaps Ivoryton would point the way to her
future. She shook her head as she dried her hair with a towel. She had no idea
that she was not quite done with Brian yet.</span></span></blockquote><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span><br />
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<!--[endif]--></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-8kyQUMINHkRZCPq4WYJO9NKCYpZWVqYehCJdcvjLZ6wO937lLFw7gCb4yf3gYu38Y8CKiAoDuTC3Z8MRBjPNbVr-EJbRpbDtsTy_ilvWKHp10fJPfJ4VTaOmnSIVR_LIIlRPJGDtXDhve4D_sWxHBS3RbrNVCO17G7XmzhX7iF8BPLS3aPncKdRAw/s1944/Mill%20on%20River%202.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1943" data-original-width="1944" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-8kyQUMINHkRZCPq4WYJO9NKCYpZWVqYehCJdcvjLZ6wO937lLFw7gCb4yf3gYu38Y8CKiAoDuTC3Z8MRBjPNbVr-EJbRpbDtsTy_ilvWKHp10fJPfJ4VTaOmnSIVR_LIIlRPJGDtXDhve4D_sWxHBS3RbrNVCO17G7XmzhX7iF8BPLS3aPncKdRAw/w200-h200/Mill%20on%20River%202.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">David Weinberg is a screenwriter and musician. Most recently a quarter-finalist in the 2022 Creative Screenwriting Pilot competition. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">He has a B.S. in Environmental Health from Quinnipiac University and a Masters in Liberal Studies from Wesleyan University. He is divorced and owns the two most spoiled cats in America.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Website <a href="http://www.davidweinbergauthor.com">www.davidweinbergauthor.com</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Instagram <a href="https://www.instagram.com/scroogesfolly1/">https://www.instagram.com/scroogesfolly1/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Facebook <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100090291911308">https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100090291911308</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJUZ8MRbAqpUfFRJ5NtJdTs48Q6bmYmK_f4N9XbH__u0obaKLJ0vLfmTe4l15khDnvBeXnkskd_6iETRgDD86d0nYnZa20xdWdHsk2OyP0nVovZr88ROJbjklMKZawDt-o6Ascgm5XY5QwSPtXA3AAQpkIjtOcwltWr2A5iTo5BXSGdyhIPfdQnBs1w/s1080/Scrooge's%20Folly%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJUZ8MRbAqpUfFRJ5NtJdTs48Q6bmYmK_f4N9XbH__u0obaKLJ0vLfmTe4l15khDnvBeXnkskd_6iETRgDD86d0nYnZa20xdWdHsk2OyP0nVovZr88ROJbjklMKZawDt-o6Ascgm5XY5QwSPtXA3AAQpkIjtOcwltWr2A5iTo5BXSGdyhIPfdQnBs1w/s320/Scrooge's%20Folly%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2185" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2185/" id="rcwidget_rn5wqdtw" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>You can also enter The Contest on the author's site to win</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>1st Prize – A cameo in the movie version when it gets produced. </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Winner chosen Christmas Eve -2023</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>2nd Prize – Ibanez 6 string sunburst acoustic guitar, gigbag and capo.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://davidweinbergauthor.com/reader-rewards/ " rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><b>https://davidweinbergauthor.com/reader-rewards/ </b></a></div><div><br /></div></span></div><div><br /></div></div>
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-1909915296585582212023-05-31T01:30:00.003-05:002023-05-31T01:30:00.145-05:00Babe in the Woods Jude Hopkins<p> </p>Tour Spotlight HTML Babe in the Woods
<div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqoDc0zjtbW_w3xu_LWlUbaI-59HeBBUmQhW-BQGBgbeEMRXhrq9FLf9l0EWu0TEm--hIwW4PeT8QshOfLzR5NIOsang4P9iTTBn_SzJnTEiLARHmKllTKXA-AJFym-g3oFTI2Z_-jVtJ3UVVJMAl8GpsPLGtmty3acdt01LidJphA8rzcwked7bNS5w/s820/Babe%20in%20the%20Woods%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqoDc0zjtbW_w3xu_LWlUbaI-59HeBBUmQhW-BQGBgbeEMRXhrq9FLf9l0EWu0TEm--hIwW4PeT8QshOfLzR5NIOsang4P9iTTBn_SzJnTEiLARHmKllTKXA-AJFym-g3oFTI2Z_-jVtJ3UVVJMAl8GpsPLGtmty3acdt01LidJphA8rzcwked7bNS5w/w400-h153/Babe%20in%20the%20Woods%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc2U4b0mQboz7iyTDMu5JBHjRvVagn0vVszrlU-rctFIeZA6MpBZL00bIAgZ2W3yb_vCFU1syR8JzwnNbXaeev0TKQuKairtLOMjxmXF_M5JDQ-YffVtO6nLbniPegD_naLVPy_ZDubQbEz7Eg7ervzIHxYcULrrUOKkEqUEa8ADDwyxPhJHz4hOva-g/s750/BabeintheWoods_w17346_750%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc2U4b0mQboz7iyTDMu5JBHjRvVagn0vVszrlU-rctFIeZA6MpBZL00bIAgZ2W3yb_vCFU1syR8JzwnNbXaeev0TKQuKairtLOMjxmXF_M5JDQ-YffVtO6nLbniPegD_naLVPy_ZDubQbEz7Eg7ervzIHxYcULrrUOKkEqUEa8ADDwyxPhJHz4hOva-g/s320/BabeintheWoods_w17346_750%20copy.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Babe in the Woods</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Jude Hopkins</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Genre: Women’s Fiction</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Publisher: The Wild Rose Press Inc.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Date of Publication: June 7, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN 978-1-5092-4843-8 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN 978-1-5092-4844-5 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Number of pages: 294</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Word Count: 72,321 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Cover Artist: Tina Lynn Stout</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Tagline: Timber! She’s Falling in Love</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">It’s September 1995, the first year of the rest of Hadley Todd's life. After living in Los Angeles, Hadley returns to her hometown in rural New York to write and be near her father. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">In addition to looking after him and teaching high school malcontents, Hadley hopes to channel her recent L.A. heartbreak into a play about the last moment of a woman’s innocence. But she seeks inspiration.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Enter Trey Harding, a young, handsome reporter who covers sports at the high school. Trey reminds Hadley of her L.A. ex and is the perfect spark to fire up her imagination. The fact that Trey is an aspiring rock star and she has L.A. record biz connections makes the alliance perfect. She dangles promises of music biz glory while watching his moves. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">But the surprising twist that transpires when the two of them go to Hollywood is not something Hadley prepared for.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://amzn.to/3yvbC4Y">Amazon</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/babe-in-the-woods-jude-hopkins/1143104918">BN</a><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Excerpt:</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">There was a knock on the door as
Hadley sat down with a bowl of chocolate-chip ice cream. She glanced at the
clock: 8 p.m. Sunday night. She’d shot the whole weekend, mostly grading papers
and sleeping the day before.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“My God,” she said aloud,
remembering Trey’s promise to make good on a date. How could he possibly show
up after she’d been so deliberately elusive? She had forgotten the resiliency
of some guys.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Who is it?” she trilled, bouncing a
mound of the frozen dessert on her tongue. She cleared her throat and repeated
the question, all the while picking up the detritus from the weekend—the pizza
box, the ice cream container, the National Enquirer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“ ‘Tis I, Old Dog Trey,” he yelled
through the door. “Ever faithful. We have a meeting, remember?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She used her fingers to comb her
hair and moaned when the mirror reflected a wan, puffy face staring back at
her.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“I never confirmed any meeting,” she
said through the door. She hurried to straighten the cushions on the couch.
“I’ll take a rain check.” Her heart was doing double time.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“C’mon. Please open the door. It’s
getting chilly out here.” His voice was deeper than usual.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She brushed the lint off her sweatshirt and zipped up her jeans before opening
the door.</span></span></div><span style="font-family: times;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Trey was twirling the end of a white
stick in his mouth. With a loud slurping sound, he pulled from his mouth a
bright red lollipop before sticking out his tongue, which now matched the color
of his shirt. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Fire your secretary,” he said, tapping
his watch. “May I come in?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">She let him in, the shame of her
unkempt apartment equaled only by the shame of her own disheveled appearance. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He stood close to her. “I have to
say, you are much more attractive without all that make-up.” He talked with the
lollipop stuck in his cheek. “Definitely younger.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">It was an approach she remembered
from her time with Derek. First you surprise them, then compliment them when
they’re at their most vulnerable. She made a mental note.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He walked toward the nearest chair,
sat down, but quickly jumped up again, fishing in his pockets. “Where are my
manners? Here.” He extended a lollipop, grape flavor, her favorite. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“No thanks.” It wasn’t even on the
level of the apple Neil had given her on the first day of school. Besides, what
was with men and their semiotics anyway? Perhaps it beat communicating with
words. And how in the world would he have known grape was her favorite flavor?
Was she that transparent? Was there a grape “type” as opposed to an orange or
cherry type? The grape type would be moody and dark. The orange type would be
young, perky, sassy. The cherry type? Passionate, desirable. Like him.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Lollipops aside, he was lusciousness itself, the
blood-red shirt adding to his angel-faced carnality. His skin glowed, no doubt
from a day spent in the autumn sun with a frisky faun. </span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p></div></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqdyxgJCXz400PK8NLIRv0ICCht7Lr4P3dQSY1PZbqSQ3ElJpAmOeRXuCc7VAF1Io8poBFfnB9rL1X-BVVKG7e9Kf-h3x77lkMsYxDuwqtIgh-BkmkN7aiB9gjXlq6WWBbZ7WB5zq5n6gvbAiT59noaoDIrYaeGwws5s5S9rmYkxzhZg4ztix4BfKCg/s1024/1_J9TcpTCgBqPWqk_rrqhIRw.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="966" data-original-width="1024" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqdyxgJCXz400PK8NLIRv0ICCht7Lr4P3dQSY1PZbqSQ3ElJpAmOeRXuCc7VAF1Io8poBFfnB9rL1X-BVVKG7e9Kf-h3x77lkMsYxDuwqtIgh-BkmkN7aiB9gjXlq6WWBbZ7WB5zq5n6gvbAiT59noaoDIrYaeGwws5s5S9rmYkxzhZg4ztix4BfKCg/w200-h189/1_J9TcpTCgBqPWqk_rrqhIRw.png" width="200" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Jude Hopkins has published essays in The Los Angeles Times, Medium, the belladonna—and poetry in various journals including Gyroscope Review, Timber Creek Review and California Quarterly. Her first novel, Babe in the Woods, will be published June 7, 2023. She has also taught English and news writing at various universities, including the University of Pittsburgh at Bradford, Arizona State University and St. Bonaventure University in Olean, N.Y. She also worked at Capitol Records in Hollywood for a few halcyon and unforgettable years.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Website: <a href="https://www.judehopkinswriting.net/">https://www.judehopkinswriting.net/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Blog: <a href="https://www.judehopkinswriting.net/my-blog">https://www.judehopkinswriting.net/my-blog</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/HeyJudeNotJudy">https://twitter.com/HeyJudeNotJudy</a> </span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQsu_oaKkTP4QGAsJHWI_o15FZqSy7NYuacbx6cvbEJ8qo0K9PrHk349o_PbmjN7Z0FRWBBBRjfcOF73oOJzda34NJql5cWR8AkIFeBtncTmUKMcBxhmR8d3wvVvfn8UBPKzkdiFWUZ2zMcu4XvyVBd5niZcftyCBWTOsY_GuIK46w1G87zx9WJFZVCQ/s1080/Babe%20in%20the%20Woods%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQsu_oaKkTP4QGAsJHWI_o15FZqSy7NYuacbx6cvbEJ8qo0K9PrHk349o_PbmjN7Z0FRWBBBRjfcOF73oOJzda34NJql5cWR8AkIFeBtncTmUKMcBxhmR8d3wvVvfn8UBPKzkdiFWUZ2zMcu4XvyVBd5niZcftyCBWTOsY_GuIK46w1G87zx9WJFZVCQ/s320/Babe%20in%20the%20Woods%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div>
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-88699913018846664902023-05-26T01:30:00.004-05:002023-05-26T01:30:00.149-05:00Truth in Blue All that Matters Book One Mirai Amell<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1DUNsaSoWdjOckiYqRYW1hhGk5LNBzZej4uO5KU_UZISej1K47SNUNW7g38v0kixuVNVZsypkZ1Uece5IPvI8CaXdXOv3TqiG-Anqz1l0TQ8T0eU-pwBArs2FeASi2w-KkX49ZyG3LT05njl3lLEgl64WWhd0FoiU7s-1XPm_PmQokqD4cifELtB1w/s820/Truth%20in%20Blue%20%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1DUNsaSoWdjOckiYqRYW1hhGk5LNBzZej4uO5KU_UZISej1K47SNUNW7g38v0kixuVNVZsypkZ1Uece5IPvI8CaXdXOv3TqiG-Anqz1l0TQ8T0eU-pwBArs2FeASi2w-KkX49ZyG3LT05njl3lLEgl64WWhd0FoiU7s-1XPm_PmQokqD4cifELtB1w/w400-h153/Truth%20in%20Blue%20%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEike-GykFp9W1CUFQ2rYbmKxUwI28E5SX3P60azevMYMxeDiYKu6HRt4kEGZ0ck9LZ5jtsTum0IsrMhOJeTGBkYQXZKCD5ro7fOhnzzKaY-WI8o420W_3hLiD8gB10SXRTWKcEDJbpwwm7c8cgV0nvjSQeKTmoUW6EQWGAxWdU1-MvqcHXpYs8UXB-5cw/s2701/ebook.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2701" data-original-width="1801" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEike-GykFp9W1CUFQ2rYbmKxUwI28E5SX3P60azevMYMxeDiYKu6HRt4kEGZ0ck9LZ5jtsTum0IsrMhOJeTGBkYQXZKCD5ro7fOhnzzKaY-WI8o420W_3hLiD8gB10SXRTWKcEDJbpwwm7c8cgV0nvjSQeKTmoUW6EQWGAxWdU1-MvqcHXpYs8UXB-5cw/s320/ebook.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Truth in Blue</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">All that Matters </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book One</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Mirai Amell</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: High Fantasy</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: March 20, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN: B0BWNFMMFT</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 379</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 102K</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: MiblArt</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: Sometimes life is better as a lie.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Malakai wanted to protect his kingdom from threats beyond its borders. Instead, stripped of his magic and on the run, he now needs to save it from his brother, the king himself.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Amaryllis wanted to have nothing to do with humans. Instead, stranded in the wrong realm, she now needs to retrieve a lost fae relic with powers no one comprehends.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Una wanted to be a knight in shining armor. Instead, haunted by the memories of a life she never lived, Una now needs to find answers from someone she doesn’t remember meeting. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">When their paths cross, each must decide what matters to them the most.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Or risk losing everything they hold dear.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">In a world where Angels and Shades battle for souls while the Devil sips his tea, the fate of one country, two races, and four realms hangs in the balance when love and loyalties are tested to their limits. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://amzn.to/41iCxh8 " rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Amazon</span></a></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><span><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Excerpt - Chapter 1</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>No place like home</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The palace
was too quiet. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">It should
have been abuzz with many familiar noises: gardeners tending the plants, cooks
clanging the utensils, and servants running errands. Instead, the rhythmic
clip-clop of the hooves from Ciaran’s horse was the only sound echoing across
the palace courtyard. The perfectly manicured shrubs and flowers blooming
during peak summer looked exhausted, having to keep the facade of their
expected sunny disposition. In contrast, barricaded in a garden corner, rooted
yet lifeless, the prana plants glinted cunningly. With the sunlight bouncing
off their amber-colored crystalline form, it was as if they were watching him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">As if they
knew something he didn’t. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
trained senses of a King’s Knight warned him, but Ciaran dismounted,
nevertheless. How could he be wary of a place he had called home for so long?
After a few moments of deliberation, Ciaran decided to tie his horse to one of
the pillars near the doorway, just in case.</span> </p></blockquote><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He had practically grown up at the palace, having arrived there at thirteen to
live and train as an apprentice knight. His father, Oswald—a Bender and the
Lord of Korbridge—had still been alive then to watch with pride when Ciaran had
received the royal crest that declared him a King’s Knight five years later.
The metal emblem, carved with a golden sun rising from behind a jeweled dagger,
was pinned to the chest of Ciaran’s black coat when Oswald passed away a few
months after the ceremony. That had been six years ago. Malakai had stayed by
his side through the ups and downs, the triumphs and losses. He was a friend, a
rival, a comrade, and the closest thing to a family Ciaran had left.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He would
gladly walk into a raging fire if it were for Malakai.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Now,
Ciaran walked into the decidedly frosty palace. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">No one
greeted him in the main hall. The throne room, offices, and foyer were all
eerily deserted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He could
sense people around, hear their hushed whispers and the echoes of their
footsteps, yet it seemed they were deliberately avoiding him. Ignoring the
strange stillness in the air, he resolutely walked toward his sleeping chambers
in the north wing. Of all the knights in the country, only ten were chosen to
be King’s Knights, the ones who lived in the palace, attending to the ruling
King of Castellon. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Halfway to
his destination, he stopped at the edge of the winding stairs. The stairs
diverged here: one set of steps went up to the royal residence, and the other
went down to the palace dungeons, a place that brought back haunting memories
for him. He tried to shake them off and turned to take the stairs going
upwards.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“I see
you’re back already.” The hostility in the voice of General Atkins standing
before him startled Ciaran. The five knights, who had crept up behind him in
the meantime, didn’t appear any friendlier. Reva, Lucia, Feris, Goran, and Jahir
all held weapons. To make things worse, they knew each other too well. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“General,
where is he?” Ciaran could not stop panic from rising in his heart. The aging
General had gray in his hair, but his height and breadth made him a mountain of
a man. The formidable presence of this experienced warrior was enough to make
grown men wet themselves (most grown men). Still, Ciaran did not break eye
contact with his mentor, his emerald eyes demanding answers. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
General winced almost imperceptibly before replying, “The king sent him to
Lasceraz.” Ciaran’s blood froze in his veins; he was too late for his friend. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“They’d
such a shouting match that the stewards had to call me from my home in the
city,” Atkins said. “I found Malakai unconscious on the floor, and the only
thing I got from the king was the order to transport him to the dungeons in
Lasceraz. In chains. Ciaran, what’s going on?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
General implored him for some explanation. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“How long
ago?” Ciaran ignored the General’s question to ask his own. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Nearly
three days now. What are you guys keeping from us? Answer me!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Ciaran
didn’t reply, his mind already calculating his next steps. Lasceraz, the
infamous prison, was in the southernmost corner of the country. It would take
several months to reach it on horseback unless he secured the service of a
space-Bender mage—like the General, for sure, had. Fortunately, he knew one who
used to work for his father, but Bender Farley lived in Ciaran’s hometown
Korbridge, and it would take a few days to reach there from Castle. The longer
he delayed, the more time Malakai would rot in Lasceraz.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Just as
Ciaran turned around to leave, the knights readied their weapons: two sets of
daunting daggers, two shining swords, and one menacing mace pointed straight at
him. The General himself did not carry anything, standing with his arms crossed
in front of him. Not to mention that Ciaran was not a mage, but two of the
knights and the General were. Taking a deep breath, he brushed his sandy hair
back with his right hand; a few locks strayed back over his green eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“You truly
believe you can stop me from leaving?” he asked, smiling for the first time since
entering the palace grounds.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
knights looked highly uncomfortable, for they were well aware of who they were
up against. People in the kingdom might not know his name, but every knight in
the country knew of Ciaran’s reputation. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“No. I
don’t believe we can manage that…” The General replied truthfully, “But I need
to say that we tried our best regardless.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Ciaran
gave his mentor a quick nod, steadied his sword, and took his stance. “I
understand.”<br />
***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He
couldn’t understand how he was still alive.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">His entire
being ached; his muscles and even his bones were sore.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Malakai
tried to turn on his bed to find an angle where it would hurt slightly less,
and a pained yelp escaped his mouth. The cold iron bit his wrists, sinking its
unyielding teeth into his joints. He opened his eyes to find himself chained to
the walls.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Lasceraz.
A wave of despair overtook him, making it hard to breathe. Was the air always
so stale and thick here? Malakai had toured the prison many times but never
noticed how dark it was. The cells were made of thick granite, without even a
tiny window to allow light to peek through. With some effort, he turned his
head upwards and regretted it immediately. Everything swam before his eyes, and
a sharp pain made him retch, only to realize he had nothing left to vomit apart
from his blood.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">After his
body stopped shaking from the shock, Malakai felt a strange emptiness inside
him; the warmth and comfort of his magic were barely there anymore. The panic
that rose through him was worse than the bile he tasted in his mouth. He tried
his best to calm himself, to convince himself that it could not be gone, for
magic was made of prana: the life energy coursing through every living being.
It had to be somewhere if he was here. But the more he searched, the more it
became evident that it was dying. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">And he was
dying with it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Malakai’s
eyes blurred once more. Were they tears of sadness, knowing he had lost
everything he held dear, or tears from the burning torment his body experienced
with the slightest movement? He couldn’t tell them apart.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">As his
eyes focused again, Malakai remembered there used to be a window in every cell
once upon a time. The first king of Castellon knew light was a beacon of hope;
it kept the fight alive in people. His descendant, the current king, also
understood what it meant to the prisoners. So, five years ago, he ordered all the
windows to be boarded up. Malakai was the one who had supervised the project
and seen the dejected looks on their faces, caked with dirt and grime, yet he
never fully comprehended. Until now.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Many of
them were murderers, kidnappers, and swindlers, but there were others who
couldn’t pay the ever-increasing taxes; people who had no reason to be in the
infamous jail of Lasceraz.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Yet, they
were.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">So was he.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Get 'im
to eat somethin’.” The metallic tinkle of keys alerted him as the room door
opened. A guard dressed in red and yellow placed a bowl of soup in front of him
while another held a lantern in his hand. Malakai wondered how many days had
passed since he was sent here and if Ciaran knew his fate yet. It was no
coincidence that he was incarcerated when each of his allies within the King’s
Knights happened to be out of the capital. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Three
days. You’ve eaten nothin’.” The guard brought a spoon with the soup near his
mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Please!”
the man nearly pleaded and added, “Yer Highness.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">The other
guard looked equally awkward. Malakai understood how disturbing it must be to
treat the second prince of their kingdom as a mere prisoner—torn between their
absolute loyalty to the orders issued by the king and their instinct to protect
a member of the royal family. His older brother might be the ruler of Castellon
(and he made sure to remind people of that constantly!), but Malakai was a
soldier, first and foremost. He had spent time with guards, trained them, and
inspected prisons as part of his duties, something the pampered king never
bothered himself with.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He opened
his mouth to let the guard feed him. Under no circumstance was he allowed to be
free of his manacles. Such was the rule in Lasceraz, where every prisoner was
kept in maximum-security solitary confinement. Sip by sip, he finished the bowl
of soup, and the guards released simultaneous breaths of gratitude, likely
because they had half-expected him to protest, or worse. Malakai didn’t want to
make it any harder on them than necessary, considering they would have a tough
enough time when he escaped. His weak stomach rebelled despite his noble
intentions not to trouble the guards; a dull ache radiated from his core,
spreading out like a volcano spewing lava, and Malakai keeled over in pain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">After they
helped him throw up everything he had just ingested in the chamber pot, one of
the guards tried to say something but couldn’t. Ignoring the grip of fatigue
threatening to suffocate him, Malakai smiled and said, “It’s not your fault.”
He meant it, but they hung their heads in shame and left the room without
checking the chains, forgetting that they’d loosened the shackles slightly to
let him clean up earlier. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">He didn’t
doubt that Ciaran would find a way to get him out of here.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">But maybe
Malakai could beat him to it.<br />
***<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Being
beaten in a battle wasn’t something Ciaran ever worried about.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">However,
victory always comes with a price.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">As he rode his tired horse away from Castle, the
capital city of Castellon, Ciaran had to admit that while he’d managed to get
out of the palace in one piece, thankfully without killing any of them, it
hadn’t been easy. Every hesitation, every indecision from one side was used by
the other. It was a wonder he’d made it this far.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUqFTc4XQxUtj8Q0VpmuJyMxnnzMhbNCzkCVKWELqXNVcdApYgAKCGhH9OQKU1ZQYeY-HOzRG_M01tRaPXub_GHfRdMmu0gEbDweaAIP2TgbvG2vV61cI308M8tEwjQW39bQMCrkpBxWiDiV6HCkvDrFdFwcjvhMU_vBGbz9dxPfOhmo2kUH60te8oQ/s2096/Author%20Photo.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2096" data-original-width="1428" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUqFTc4XQxUtj8Q0VpmuJyMxnnzMhbNCzkCVKWELqXNVcdApYgAKCGhH9OQKU1ZQYeY-HOzRG_M01tRaPXub_GHfRdMmu0gEbDweaAIP2TgbvG2vV61cI308M8tEwjQW39bQMCrkpBxWiDiV6HCkvDrFdFwcjvhMU_vBGbz9dxPfOhmo2kUH60te8oQ/s320/Author%20Photo.jpg" width="218" /></a></div>About the Author:</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Mirai Amell is the pen name of a neuroscientist who believes in myths and magic as much as she trusts molecules and microscopes. When she is not doing science, or reading fantasy books, or watching anime, Mirai scribbles poems published in anthologies like From One Line Vol(s) 1-3, Wounds I Healed, and The Crow’s Quill magazine. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Currently, Mirai lives in Seattle, where she researches various brain things.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://twitter.com/AmellMirai">https://twitter.com/AmellMirai</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://shadowsparkpub.com/mirai-amell">https://shadowsparkpub.com/mirai-amell</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123013881">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123013881</a></span></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qS8p67OfHtkJ2GBMPVvrCNDWXo45Irf_vjdaRrSjc27Nua9jCs_AktgLh-iDU6idKJ5dqXmEeOXWc7D42B1LNd2oPzd_H_a4_F2QRvZJWU2ZhYrZYp_ZJrz8U_8ROrSW9qbwF-TBDk9wyBaitj0VCezTG71qvXPJMPF7PkLkRZgibh1ur8Vd7VXgdQ/s1080/Truth%20in%20Blue%20%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qS8p67OfHtkJ2GBMPVvrCNDWXo45Irf_vjdaRrSjc27Nua9jCs_AktgLh-iDU6idKJ5dqXmEeOXWc7D42B1LNd2oPzd_H_a4_F2QRvZJWU2ZhYrZYp_ZJrz8U_8ROrSW9qbwF-TBDk9wyBaitj0VCezTG71qvXPJMPF7PkLkRZgibh1ur8Vd7VXgdQ/s320/Truth%20in%20Blue%20%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-36168512980332674172023-05-13T01:30:00.007-05:002023-05-13T01:30:00.142-05:00Forged In Lies The Monarch Series Book One Raven Dark and Jenna Stirling<p> </p>Spotlight 1
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglhfciELr96c8a-GIg_r7v0r-jXDllactcc_6m4rj_yWsxzIB5WeZJMu1tSUVctOwHklgYS6hZL4uStcQ087G0tToXNqQQQNltM4T1Wu72gwoZaw8sj-jjM67-R-RqTcp9oDMthA0voNYbp2VTomeScc5OWYQN-GaonqITe6gi5K5hPkZEz8FisJ8t/s820/forged%20in%20lies%20banner.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglhfciELr96c8a-GIg_r7v0r-jXDllactcc_6m4rj_yWsxzIB5WeZJMu1tSUVctOwHklgYS6hZL4uStcQ087G0tToXNqQQQNltM4T1Wu72gwoZaw8sj-jjM67-R-RqTcp9oDMthA0voNYbp2VTomeScc5OWYQN-GaonqITe6gi5K5hPkZEz8FisJ8t/w400-h153/forged%20in%20lies%20banner.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXe0cMhIzmiYxZ4ekpRQuvAGp9iAWDgrcNhmMIk6BUurqT3boKfP6vYaKFirVtJZsZ3Nz-8gOfDSjFfZ3gHT1TQgu6nAe0dNJhv5S6jF0gTV3fU0D2uM3CPtuVKyw3SfwMk-38s_R7X8t3_g8Yxv_cgcx5Cmy1qkP9OkNR7IpuYY87X06iVI_Khi7N/s2700/Forged%20In%20Lies%2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXe0cMhIzmiYxZ4ekpRQuvAGp9iAWDgrcNhmMIk6BUurqT3boKfP6vYaKFirVtJZsZ3Nz-8gOfDSjFfZ3gHT1TQgu6nAe0dNJhv5S6jF0gTV3fU0D2uM3CPtuVKyw3SfwMk-38s_R7X8t3_g8Yxv_cgcx5Cmy1qkP9OkNR7IpuYY87X06iVI_Khi7N/s320/Forged%20In%20Lies%2017.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Forged In Lies</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Monarch Series </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book One</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Raven Dark and Jenna Stirling</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Dark Dystopian, Why Choose MC Romance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: Raven Dark</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: April 23, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN: B0C3CYFH5B</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: 348</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Word Count: 106,428 words</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Raven Dark</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: This world is full of deadly beasts. And I might be worse than any of them…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">This world is full of deadly beasts. And I might be worse than any of them…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I remember life before the solar flare destroyed society. And I remember pieces of the dystopian hellscape that followed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">But my memories are fractured. Full of holes and inconsistencies.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">How I managed to slit the throat of a biker twice my size is a complete mystery.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">But I did. Easily and without thought.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Now, the dead man’s four ruthless MC brothers want me as their captive plaything in the bedroom, and their assassin in the outside world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I should hate them. Fear them. But I don’t.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">My attraction to these sexy savages is as inexplicable as my nagging feeling that something—or someone—is coming for me.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">All I can do now is hope the sleeping beast inside me is ready to kill when I need it…and that the brutal men I’m falling for don’t get caught in the crossfire.</span></div><div><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></div><div><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Forged in Lies, book 1 in the Monarch series, is a dark, post-apocalypse why choose romance featuring a strong heroine, and the merciless alpha males who love her. (Think The Handmaid’s Tale meets Sons of Anarchy, mixed with a dash of Firefly, but with more happy endings and spicy times.) Download today and hope your e-reader doesn’t go up in smoke.</span></i></div><div><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>***WARNING***This book contains sexual situations and dark scenes that may upset some readers. If you have triggers, please do not buy this book. Cliff-hanger ahead. HEA at end of series</i>.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Forged-Lies-Monarch-Dystopian-Romance-ebook/dp/B0C3CYFH5B">Amazon</a></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b></b></span></p></div><blockquote><div><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>Excerpt:</b><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Havoc’s
grip tightens, unmistakably possessive. His eyes gleam down at me. “Back off,
Twig. I choose who she’s with. And you won’t be on the list.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Twig’s
brows go up in surprise.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Havoc
looks at me and blinks, apparently caught off guard by his own words. “Relax,
pretty girl,” he adds, pushing past Twig. “You belong to me now. No one will
touch you unless I say so.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Is that
supposed to make me feel better?” I mutter.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">And yet my
sex slicks at his sheer possessiveness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Not sure
how you’re getting to me, but you’ll pay for it later.” His voice is suddenly
gruff.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“You better
count on a rough night.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">My pulse
stutters. What’s with this guy? One minute he sounds as if he wants to keep me
all to himself, and the next he wants to pass me around. How many guys are we
talking here?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Trying to
distract myself from Havoc’s effect on me, I dig the bread out of my pocket and
nibble on it. I look at Sage. Not sure what I’m hoping for, but his expression
tells me nothing. It’s as if I’m frozen out, and something between us has
evaporated.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Havoc,
Sage,” a guy shouts, striding over to us. He’s tall and athletic-looking like
Sage, but with blond hair pulled into a ponytail. “What the fuck took you two
so long? Venom’s pissed.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“That’s
nothing new.” Havoc grabs a beer from a barrel near him, and Sage does the
same.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“What
happened at Gore’s?” Ponytail smirks, watching me eat. I don’t like the way
he’s looking at me. “And what’s up with the strange?” he adds.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">My gaze
zeros in on the patch on his cut. I take in the acronym, committing his rank to
memory. Second In Command.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">At his
tone, Havoc’s hand moves to my nape. I could swear Sage stepped closer.
Ponytail’s smile widens.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Gore’s
dead,” Havoc says, guzzling his beer. “Couldn’t pay his dues.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Fuck.
Another one? This’ll put the Keep in a hell of a mood. What about his women?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Dead
too,” Sage says. “They were gone by the time H found them.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Shit.
They would have fixed a lot of problems. All right, Sage, send a couple guys
out there to scavenge.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“You got
it, Hutch.” Sage heads over to a group of guys standing with Twig.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“So, who’s
the bitch?” Ponytail—Hutch—asks, nodding to me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"> “Gore
tried to hide her when we showed up,” Havoc says. “She wasn’t his, though.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Stray
pussy, is it?” Hutch’s eyes narrow on me. “I’ll take first crack at her.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Havoc
pushes me behind him. I think I actually hear him growl.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Hutch
grins and lifts his shoulders. “Fuck, what’s with you? You’re like a dog with
his food.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Well, you
better bring her to Keep first before you stick your dick in her.” He’s
laughing as he<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">turns and
heads for the house.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">I scrunch
my brows at his retreating back, then glance up at Havoc. He knows I’m MC. Why
didn’t he report it to his Second?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“This
way,” Havoc orders me, heading after Hutch. “Wait until Venom sees you. He’s
probably gonna want your ass first.” He pauses and leans down, lowering his
voice to that growl that makes my blood heat. “And I’ll eat up every second,
pretty girl. I bet watching would be almost as good as fucking you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Alarm
bells ring in my head. I gotta get out of here now before this gets any worse.
And I have to get to Charlie. As long as I’m here, I can’t do that.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Heart in
my throat, I lower my eyes, searching for an escape route. Some of the bikes
sit without men near them, keys dangling from ignitions. One’s a few feet away.
Even if I could get Havoc to let go, he’d catch me before I reached it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Still...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">We’re
closing in on the front doors, Havoc’s long strides eating up the grass. If I’m
going to act, it has to be now.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">I lurch,
pretending to stumble. Havoc loses his grip. I whip around and sprint toward
the nearest bike.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Havoc
curses. Shouts ring out. Panting, I swing onto the bike, kick the stand up, and
fire up the engine.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Stupid
bitch,” Havoc roars.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">Out of
nowhere, a strong arm snakes around my neck and I’m yanked off the bike. I land
on my ass with a yell before I’m pulled to my feet and spun around.</span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;">I have about a half a second to see silver-blond <span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">hair before
the guy swings his fist right at my face.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p></div><div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span></div></blockquote><div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GoMeLuE8WU7jRlGkw1eenQH9WLKOWdJQlXr-MukAdt0oiL0H1B__vsAQKF_il7q9X6bEHw63G0ozEgj9i9wJ5AAOSzdgKuBODbwBZKMlcC7BrbW_Dc-h2wvNjPbHVa1PDCw_0goXmXkMgstnra2BLq_qMMIDYHV5-g2YU2MpVlGCnCDyZguVrhDsOw/s200/14347797.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="200" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GoMeLuE8WU7jRlGkw1eenQH9WLKOWdJQlXr-MukAdt0oiL0H1B__vsAQKF_il7q9X6bEHw63G0ozEgj9i9wJ5AAOSzdgKuBODbwBZKMlcC7BrbW_Dc-h2wvNjPbHVa1PDCw_0goXmXkMgstnra2BLq_qMMIDYHV5-g2YU2MpVlGCnCDyZguVrhDsOw/w200-h150/14347797.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>About the Author:</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">As a young girl Raven Dark dreamed of being abducted by a savage alien warrior, whisked away by a brutal pirate, or rescued by a cape-bearing hero. When none of these men came to claim her, she brought them to life in her stories. Then twelve years ago she met the man of her dreams. He doesn't wear a cape, fly a spaceship, or wield a sword, but sometimes she swears they've mind melded.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Raven lives with her dream man and their one cat that thinks she's a dog in the Mundane world's version of Ontario, Canada. When she isn't working on her latest erotic romance novels and crafting interesting worlds in which to set them, she's spending too much time with friends, feeding her Youtube addiction, or curled up on a couch watching favorite shows with her future husband.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Newsletter - <a href="http://eepurl.com/cEwhYL">http://eepurl.com/cEwhYL</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Twitter - <a href="https://twitter.com/RavenDarkAuthor">https://twitter.com/RavenDarkAuthor</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Instragram - <a href="https://www.instagram.com/ravendarkauthor/">https://www.instagram.com/ravendarkauthor/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Bookbub - <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/authors/raven-dark">https://www.bookbub.com/authors/raven-dark</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Facebook - <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authorravendark">https://www.facebook.com/authorravendark</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Goodreads - <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14347797.Raven_Dark">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14347797.Raven_Dark</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8W3hMmjWR45AQrx6WMwZl8qXxf7-Q6z5mvuIcK7aqSozEmpbROyx-Sd1T54c2XU7OvwtGW0XZYAgpWca5Ot1ydC7SSaMn9W1vFhxZRpGyjURaMNE68o_UQtluttWb3MTmV8-hL1wZ_e-h4QQNbQu_wd6JYKUo1FgHGidvJldFkNJzeA-V5IQt2qn1/s1080/forged%20in%20lies%20Instagram%20.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8W3hMmjWR45AQrx6WMwZl8qXxf7-Q6z5mvuIcK7aqSozEmpbROyx-Sd1T54c2XU7OvwtGW0XZYAgpWca5Ot1ydC7SSaMn9W1vFhxZRpGyjURaMNE68o_UQtluttWb3MTmV8-hL1wZ_e-h4QQNbQu_wd6JYKUo1FgHGidvJldFkNJzeA-V5IQt2qn1/s320/forged%20in%20lies%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-3015545164115212662023-05-10T01:30:00.005-05:002023-05-10T01:30:00.144-05:00Caio Limerent Series Book One LS Delorme<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQsc_dVZD7acI7xGQzLtT4WLxDH508RmISMQZ9FaXDenkY9wsZ3VnnWLBTRUi_wcd-S2EyZziGAromX8N1WintOLd1wSFQcvNNjq1vkV2dn4xgRLtQGNAotS48CFFaqpyyrDRuCqEMoK79bhHqvVxWd1oHVmEePkZtdmE7WnCgJ1sb7igclGActVApA/s820/Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQsc_dVZD7acI7xGQzLtT4WLxDH508RmISMQZ9FaXDenkY9wsZ3VnnWLBTRUi_wcd-S2EyZziGAromX8N1WintOLd1wSFQcvNNjq1vkV2dn4xgRLtQGNAotS48CFFaqpyyrDRuCqEMoK79bhHqvVxWd1oHVmEePkZtdmE7WnCgJ1sb7igclGActVApA/w400-h153/Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVLNsXV9px8UPaBv-jOhbRoF-mq9W9nDAIrTbj6Y7-6WegmfS8ald-C0vVTZTv91AZbXHPRQRn3CDZlKPqIrOlAbGJwXZY1a8PvfhodvoG0RhcXjAbWwYZsUsAQ6af70ZVLz-k9XhIo-2a4dcCE6owAiaC0RHJc-aMeKuPLLnpdjUSBolykPQA1NxB8g/s2700/Caio-front.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVLNsXV9px8UPaBv-jOhbRoF-mq9W9nDAIrTbj6Y7-6WegmfS8ald-C0vVTZTv91AZbXHPRQRn3CDZlKPqIrOlAbGJwXZY1a8PvfhodvoG0RhcXjAbWwYZsUsAQ6af70ZVLz-k9XhIo-2a4dcCE6owAiaC0RHJc-aMeKuPLLnpdjUSBolykPQA1NxB8g/s320/Caio-front.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Caio</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Limerent Series</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Book One</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>LS Delorme</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Genre: Paranormal, Romantic, Thriller</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Publisher: Limerent Publishing</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Date of Publication: Feb 11, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN: 979-8-9874880-1-3 Paperback</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN: 979-8-9874880-1-0 ebook</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ASIN: BOBSGR1VB7</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Number of pages: 294</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Word Count: 114030</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Cover Artist: Brittany Wilson</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Sarah Baker is a paralegal in a law firm in modern-day Brooklyn. Her life is bouncing between her abusive lawyer boyfriend, the voices she hears in her head and her soul sucking work at the law firm. On a New York spring day, she meets Caio as he plays basketball on a street court. He is alluring, intriguing and young. Yet that’s the least of his mystery, for Caio was beaten, thrown into a hole and left to die. In 1905.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Sarah tries to understand this enigmatic stranger while juggling the dubious ethics of her law firm and the ghosts in her head. As she struggles with loss, grief, love, beauty and lawyers, she will need to summon the strength to break all of society’s rules, save several lives and step into a new and potentially magical life.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Caio is the opening book of a new series of supernatural romantic thrillers that will pull on your heart (strings), challenge your perceptions and lead you on a singular journey of discovery and revelation.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://books2read.com/caio">Books2Read</a></span></b><span style="background: white; color: #222222; line-height: 115%;"> <b><a href="https://amzn.to/43CwVj5">Amazon</a></b> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"></span></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Excerpt:</span></b><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">How can you be as smart as you are and have no backbone,
girl? or You’re not pretty enough to be able to expect a man to take care of
you, so you better find an administrative job so you can support yourself, or
Self-consciousness is just another form of vanity. It’s just you thinking about
yourself too much.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">That simply scratched the surface of what Sarah heard on a
daily basis growing up. On the positive side, she could take criticism with the
best of them. She had also learned to channel her sensitivity into an awareness
of people’s motivations that coworkers called “uncanny.” On the negative side,
when her parents died, she had absorbed their voices into those that already
spoke inside her head, and now they were the loudest ones.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">It was her heightened awareness that told her that something
was not quite right with the Davies case. She wasn’t sure what, and she would
need to be careful about how she researched, but it tickled her curiosity.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Sarah was lost in these thoughts as she left the grocery
store and made her way home, past the park and toward the basketball courts.
When she realized where she was, her heart started to race a little bit at the
thought of seeing the boy she had seen last week.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">There were some boys playing on the court. She
scanned them for someone in grungy clothes, but from a distance, they all
looked like they were wearing appropriate attire.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Sarah’s heart sank a little.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. Although she wasn’t
exactly sure what she was chiding herself about, it was nice when the voice
doing the talking was her own.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">As she got closer, she saw the tall, red-haired boy miss a
shot and retake the ball. He was one of the regulars. When the red-haired boy
landed, he jostled one of the other boys near him. That boy staggered, regained
his footing, and in the process deftly stole the ball. When she saw his face,
Sarah actually heard herself gasp. The boy who had been pushed, the one who now
had the basketball, was the boy she had seen before. She hadn’t noticed him
because his appearance was quite different. His shoulder-length dark hair had
been cut. He had on a red-and-black striped shirt that didn’t look expensive,
but did look brand new, as did the matching shorts. His sneakers were black
with pristine white soles. And right at the moment, he was dribbling the ball
down the court—straight at her.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: times;">Sarah froze. She was standing on the sidewalk behind the
basket on the other side of the chain-link fence. She felt like her feet had
grown roots as she watched him set up, jump, and make the basket. He came down
right in front of her. As he landed, before turning to run back down the court,
he stopped and caught her eye. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and he
smiled.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: times;">For a moment, he
looked directly in her eyes and she felt a strange dizzy feeling in seeing him
and being seen by him. No one in her life ever seemed to actually see her. No
one ever had.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8CPJg2ZR62aE333qkOjkJqwB0IGE7kxQQI77zkzN5OvgpZJ5mI_49-2hZw3ppEnHMleVeqVz-0x1V-hK2BY1z87IaX9hc4y0M4APrhW7JOlgOM_nyVPkvYp_WCW1jpFP29oc_2WAyTyaD1CD0e0_FbXVMtejZnNiM4PcZh4s7Vk2z1NROVxk5mr4ahQ/s324/unnamed%20(9).png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="324" data-original-width="324" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8CPJg2ZR62aE333qkOjkJqwB0IGE7kxQQI77zkzN5OvgpZJ5mI_49-2hZw3ppEnHMleVeqVz-0x1V-hK2BY1z87IaX9hc4y0M4APrhW7JOlgOM_nyVPkvYp_WCW1jpFP29oc_2WAyTyaD1CD0e0_FbXVMtejZnNiM4PcZh4s7Vk2z1NROVxk5mr4ahQ/w200-h200/unnamed%20(9).png" width="200" /></a></div>About the Author: </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Lexy has lived an eclectic life. As a 'navy brat', she grew up in various US states until her father retired to North Carolina when she was 14. As an adult, she has continued this "tumbleweed" life, having since lived in 3 countries, 9 US states, and 21 cities around the world. She has been a musician, scientist and attorney, and was one of the first employees at 23andMe. But, through all this change, her love of writing has been the one constant whether it be songs, scientific writing, legal briefs, travel blogs or fiction. Writing the Limerent Series allows her to combine all of this to help her create new worlds. Lexy lives in Paris with her husband and two very cool sons. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Caio is book one of 8 in the upcoming Limerent Series</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Author link: <a href="https://www.lsdelorme.com">https://www.lsdelorme.com</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Newsletter Sign Up: <a href="https://www.lsdelorme.com/subscribe">https://www.lsdelorme.com/subscribe</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/lsdelormeauthor">https://www.facebook.com/lsdelormeauthor</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/lsdelormeauthor">https://www.instagram.com/lsdelormeauthor</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">YouTube: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@lsdelormeauthor">https://www.youtube.com/@lsdelormeauthor</a> </span></div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio43Q4QNm0LiuWQjUoz74wsf5aqktlF3KIj2JIZ7vEFytoO_STwhtrarXDI-I1UIuS0AAIqEmtvsITwlkom7pLYeTQdA4lxUnPg-Ve5C49JGFWuMEVzJavvZ7938ljBdGJu_IskKWsMCMLUx3bXdn2_ONtYWvfxlQcFLjWv3_05ak3kS3eaL9w02p1eQ/s1080/Caio%20Instagram.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio43Q4QNm0LiuWQjUoz74wsf5aqktlF3KIj2JIZ7vEFytoO_STwhtrarXDI-I1UIuS0AAIqEmtvsITwlkom7pLYeTQdA4lxUnPg-Ve5C49JGFWuMEVzJavvZ7938ljBdGJu_IskKWsMCMLUx3bXdn2_ONtYWvfxlQcFLjWv3_05ak3kS3eaL9w02p1eQ/s320/Caio%20Instagram.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-9217967565824196602023-05-10T01:30:00.000-05:002023-05-10T01:30:00.145-05:00The Roast Iconic Oracle Deck Marcella Kroll<p> </p>Spotlight HTML
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYenL-MKh1u9J_KXRcCNrpuzAAAaay9Nod5tFdfCgLhrguYJ4rg6vQynoqwdtt6J74M6cJ7TUiNvkfV5adcdC2vwserx6m9YIdXSviMkpp9-MTU-pZaPppNS2HQWfYq8z3BmMVfztaYxePxM3yU3wYh2bozF2SU0l-UsRCYoZLuaITEnymgu2GnVM1A/s820/Roast%20Oracle%20Deck%20Banner%20%20(1).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYenL-MKh1u9J_KXRcCNrpuzAAAaay9Nod5tFdfCgLhrguYJ4rg6vQynoqwdtt6J74M6cJ7TUiNvkfV5adcdC2vwserx6m9YIdXSviMkpp9-MTU-pZaPppNS2HQWfYq8z3BmMVfztaYxePxM3yU3wYh2bozF2SU0l-UsRCYoZLuaITEnymgu2GnVM1A/w400-h153/Roast%20Oracle%20Deck%20Banner%20%20(1).png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5a6xhF0l106arOi9odRUvZJ5RP81-iyy5k61O7oukc0TJOiyw9KlqsjDerJFw7g1bMKPFpaI2pUVEUhlokHd0bZoKHasTBpuXmvNZPCEHj-RRYq_BjboJntJhm4tGPb2PvqjbfG2Uq_KMuxHclFsgHYeEZSFDlKYlTJbHmaCot9RBez6vN0UxObvVA/s3381/Roast%20Iconic.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3381" data-original-width="2400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid5a6xhF0l106arOi9odRUvZJ5RP81-iyy5k61O7oukc0TJOiyw9KlqsjDerJFw7g1bMKPFpaI2pUVEUhlokHd0bZoKHasTBpuXmvNZPCEHj-RRYq_BjboJntJhm4tGPb2PvqjbfG2Uq_KMuxHclFsgHYeEZSFDlKYlTJbHmaCot9RBez6vN0UxObvVA/s320/Roast%20Iconic.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>The Roast Iconic Oracle Deck</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">Marcella Kroll</span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Genre: Body/Mind/Spirit / Tarot</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Publisher: Sterling Ethos</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Date of Publication: May 9, 2023</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ISBN: 9781454948759</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">ASIN: 1-4549-4875-2</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Number of pages: Kit: 64 pages, 30 illustrated cards + booklet</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Cover Artist: Marcella Kroll</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tagline: Sassy, snarky, and hilariously harsh, this oracle deck will tell it like it is.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">When you do your one-card draw for the day, looking for a sign from the cards, what happens when you pull Fashion Witch? Bitch? Influencer? Red Flag? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">This intentionally sassy 30-card deck from well-known witch Marcella Kroll is a great way to get real talk from the Universe. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Don’t settle for being coddled by the Rider-Waite-Smith. This deck will not hesitate to throw shade or tell you you’re trying too hard. If you’re tired of the mystic limitations of the Lenormand, get wrecked by Kroll’s hilarious hand-drawn illustrations. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Direct, full of salt, and contemporary in its presentation and affect, The Roast Iconic is just what you need for days when you need your intuitive messages to be as direct as possible.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Whether used alone or as a fun party game with friends, The Roast Iconic will deliver blunt truths that make you laugh just as much as they make you think.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3ZZVqVq">Amazon</a> </span><span style="color: #222222; line-height: 115%;"> <span><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/9781454948759">BN</a> </span> <span><a href="https://bookshop.org/books/the-roast-iconic-oracle-deck/9781454948759">Bookshop</a></span></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYahW-cp1dzKQH7ZabbIbE1VJ6Lym1cjNWzmJMivKY7a3CaCCcYEBW5_MVjIl9WzwhQCtaNi_UcBQgxr5xtaz8fybULTfgW7s9mfcZfJx0HSgcNaytfCBBLveBzy0dGcAIPwX7k_uWLZ7SMbV3wm-OoZTVvJvsv8aeg3_V5C4s-2V4pWgF8mHSx6MOJA/s2763/9781454948759_THE_ROAST_ICONIC_ORACLE_DECK_IMG_3148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2763" data-original-width="2763" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYahW-cp1dzKQH7ZabbIbE1VJ6Lym1cjNWzmJMivKY7a3CaCCcYEBW5_MVjIl9WzwhQCtaNi_UcBQgxr5xtaz8fybULTfgW7s9mfcZfJx0HSgcNaytfCBBLveBzy0dGcAIPwX7k_uWLZ7SMbV3wm-OoZTVvJvsv8aeg3_V5C4s-2V4pWgF8mHSx6MOJA/s320/9781454948759_THE_ROAST_ICONIC_ORACLE_DECK_IMG_3148.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Vr79AtHwUKsXFWEWGqvan7fLysvfF7TnjW5OzFhSOlL_D_Rk3xEF4jR6P_trYiuRHP80f-U6-hDJWPnZyfdEiTihSS7M1S4OXZ9-C1An8dx8mWWierAc5IEI18tXIIrSgDxI4SOjL-2TYu5oqqGWL7sv5KhLgaEjEmz8BSjGZSyB88BzQKFwDZbxiA/s3000/MK%20Headshot%20(c)%20David%20Suh.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2001" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Vr79AtHwUKsXFWEWGqvan7fLysvfF7TnjW5OzFhSOlL_D_Rk3xEF4jR6P_trYiuRHP80f-U6-hDJWPnZyfdEiTihSS7M1S4OXZ9-C1An8dx8mWWierAc5IEI18tXIIrSgDxI4SOjL-2TYu5oqqGWL7sv5KhLgaEjEmz8BSjGZSyB88BzQKFwDZbxiA/w133-h200/MK%20Headshot%20(c)%20David%20Suh.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Marcella Kroll is a professional artist, intuitive, and workshop facilitator. She has been practicing her gifts since 1995. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Marcella works in private practice with clients all over the world and was a program presenter for the Los Angeles Public Library for 14 years, leading public classes for teens on tarot and other divination subjects. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">She regularly holds healing circles, guided meditation groups, and empowering workshops for men and women in the greater Los Angeles area and around the United States, and hosts a podcast, Saved by the Spell. She is also the co-author of Tarot in the Library Esoterica series from Taschen. She lives in Los Angeles, CA.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Website: <a href="https://www.marcellakroll.com/">https://www.marcellakroll.com/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/marcellakroll/">https://www.instagram.com/marcellakroll/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Saved by the Spell: <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/saved-by-the-spell/id1540136953">https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/saved-by-the-spell/id1540136953</a></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxdRAD9jv-2wrHcWTs4kwgEDr-p9jKZB029_vdfYlsRDlXTDuj6FE75OvXdf_4aVrnJZu8z91Omyd4PpSvCM_ncmdEsDoXjRYaCFJzeWqDcleCpwGHTlgakd9hm7K6z5PYdMEYTmmffSlfPyNyjbdqfX9al2nZqPyu2eWNemJ9edTuZeIdLAlWd_jZRQ/s1080/Roast%20Oracle%20Deck%20Instagram%20.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxdRAD9jv-2wrHcWTs4kwgEDr-p9jKZB029_vdfYlsRDlXTDuj6FE75OvXdf_4aVrnJZu8z91Omyd4PpSvCM_ncmdEsDoXjRYaCFJzeWqDcleCpwGHTlgakd9hm7K6z5PYdMEYTmmffSlfPyNyjbdqfX9al2nZqPyu2eWNemJ9edTuZeIdLAlWd_jZRQ/s320/Roast%20Oracle%20Deck%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div>
Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-33667940918588922132023-05-08T01:00:00.004-05:002023-05-08T01:00:00.150-05:00Entwined Within the Darkness Within the Darkness Trilogy Book One Charley Black<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkZitSP0k9whhYs4xbn-0_6QYNtfTXe3ofqjAI3K_BJ_ykMcPSVlYyMjDfwNkS7isGCjAISvIqWa4VEQJMmTUc8IoV4VrpiewfcerY3sYBXjhhFTlxhitjifbeCj6J4IUTsJX9z1_kt4JdWx1Yge5ExRdZcKq4eZcIw10OC12qfw2J24UtuCbWBXwJw/s820/Entwined%20within%20the%20Darkness%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkZitSP0k9whhYs4xbn-0_6QYNtfTXe3ofqjAI3K_BJ_ykMcPSVlYyMjDfwNkS7isGCjAISvIqWa4VEQJMmTUc8IoV4VrpiewfcerY3sYBXjhhFTlxhitjifbeCj6J4IUTsJX9z1_kt4JdWx1Yge5ExRdZcKq4eZcIw10OC12qfw2J24UtuCbWBXwJw/w400-h153/Entwined%20within%20the%20Darkness%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAg_reajOVP4RHJQ9gypmy4jViDKWgRcEi6tBo61TrqaoXF_C07Ss2X1FugUCnlHLmBf93Tcb7pyMXDkUptFPp80HhC2c7F8X-um4Hk6ngaqbsoswHQe3gjWqzp0GU-YTqpGNHOgyfZB7MFOrr5-Wve4xmcKVOVBJZgkwUATmdyTZUFm3VoQR1tCm3w/s2701/ebook.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2701" data-original-width="1801" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAg_reajOVP4RHJQ9gypmy4jViDKWgRcEi6tBo61TrqaoXF_C07Ss2X1FugUCnlHLmBf93Tcb7pyMXDkUptFPp80HhC2c7F8X-um4Hk6ngaqbsoswHQe3gjWqzp0GU-YTqpGNHOgyfZB7MFOrr5-Wve4xmcKVOVBJZgkwUATmdyTZUFm3VoQR1tCm3w/s320/ebook.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Entwined Within the Darkness</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Within the Darkness Trilogy</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Book One </b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>Charley Black</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Genre: Paranormal Romance, Fantasy</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Publisher: Charley Black </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Date of Publication: September 4, 2022</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN: 979-8986887708</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ASIN:B0BD577QKC</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Number of pages: 310</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Word Count: 95, 963</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Cover Artist: MiblArt</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Book Description: </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">A wild evening goes demonically wrong…</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Patience craves answers. Half a century after appearing on the steps of the witch academy, she was still no closer to recovering her lost memories and identity. Tormented nightly by visions of red eyes and burdened by dreams that, although connected, remain unclear. Patience, to distract herself, decides to defy the rules and enter the vampire club, Moarte, an act strictly forbidden for witches. Never expecting her best friend, Michael, to begin his transition into a full demon, Patience, desperate to save him, binds him to his vampiric lover.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">To make matters worse, Lucius, the domineering brother of the vampire, whom Michael is now bound to, harbors a deep resentment for witches and especially for Patience. Even so, they must now work together to find a soul gem that will untether the bond before her best friend completely consumes his brother’s soul. As their unlikely alliance takes form and their attraction grows, Lucius’ presence draws out long-forgotten memories deep from within Patience. He may just be the key to unlocking her past—but will she be able to convince him that he needs her far more than he needs to kill her? Rediscovering her past and how it binds her to Lucius may just prove to be far more dangerous than either of them imagined.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Entwined, the first book in the Within the Darkness Trilogy, will leave readers in suspense. This enemies-to-lovers story will be filled with plenty of action, humor, and steam. So, prepare yourself, as the end of this novel leaves us with a cliffhanger, but not for long! Intended for 18+ readers, stay tuned to find out what lies ahead in this captivating trilogy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://amzn.to/3ZUSDMX">Amazon</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/entwined-within-the-darkness-charley-black/1143013269?ean=2940185827871">BN</a>
<a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/entwined-within-the-darkness">Kobo</a> <a href="https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=9L2qEAAAQBAJ">Google Play</a>
<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1336706">Smashwords</a> </span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;"><b></b></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal;"><b>Excerpt
1:</b><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">A tremendous
gust of wind came out of nowhere, blowing the umbrella out of her hands. She
debated whether she should run the rest of the way home or chase after it when
there was a sudden pull at her core in the direction her umbrella went. The
sensation was strange, but her legs strode of their own accord toward the
umbrella. She would usually fight this kind of enchantment, but her curiosity
got the best of her. She wanted to know where it was leading her. It had to be
an Allure of Soul’s charm, similar to the one found on the website, except this
felt different. The pull was stronger than any charm she had experienced before.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">She let the
compelling force at her core lead her to the front of the double doors of an
old industrial building. It looked like it was a nightclub. Picking up her
umbrella, she saw a sign above the doors that read: Moarte.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Interesting. So
this is Moarte. Club Death. Typical of vampires to name their club “Death.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Strange
creatures.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Realizing it had
stopped raining, she folded up the umbrella. She must have become swept up in
the enchantment because of the storm. Magic had a mind of its own sometimes.
The weather constantly messed with enchantments, especially with lure charms.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Turning to walk
away since the allure had done its job and got her here, she found her feet
wouldn’t leave. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">“What the hell?”
She struggled to leave, thinking it was a fluke. She tried moving toward the
door instead of away, and it worked. Then she tried to turn away again. Her
feet wouldn’t move forward.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Fighting the
enchantment became harder the longer she stood, so she gave in. Stepping up to
the doors, she touched the handle. An image flashed through her mind.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">It was too quick
for her to see. A warm, familiar sensation washed over her, pulling at her
memory. It ran through her body, brushing against her soul, then vanished as
quickly as it came. She pulled on the door. It wouldn’t budge. She could unlock
it, but there was a magical ward, and she didn’t want to risk drawing attention
to herself by blasting off the door to a vampire club. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Vampires and
witches were still mortal enemies. Even with the law outlawing the killing of
witches in place, vampires were to be avoided.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">This time, when
she turned to leave, nothing stopped her. Her feet moved forward without
incident. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Her thoughts
traveled in a million different directions. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">The first being,
what the hell kind of enchantment was that if it wasn’t a lure charm? There
were other enchantments that vampires used specifically to lure their victims
into their clubs. It shouldn’t have affected her, at least not this strongly.
She could blame it on the rain. Another possibility was something else was
leading her there. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Following clues
to her past wasn’t always easy. She went into many of her leads blind and
knowing she would come out with disappointment. She always told herself she had
at least had to try. Her instincts were telling her there was a clue in the
club.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Walking up the
stairs to her apartment, she knew they would go to Moarte tonight. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">No… I couldn’t
let that happen. She had followed too many clues already. Tonight was going to
be about fun and doing something different. Remember: new energy in the air. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">Though this
differed from her dreams and nightmares, she had never seen a glimpse of memory
before or that warm sensation. It never happened when she was awake before. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">No, she wouldn’t
think about it. Tomorrow was another day. She would chase it tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">She did this to
herself all the time. All it did was add to her stress.</p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;">She promised herself she wouldn’t go anywhere
near the club tonight</p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; text-indent: 0.5in;"></p></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Charley Black is an up-and-coming writer and author who has been creating stories since she was twelve years old. Her early short stories dabbled in different genres, but her passion for romance novels — paranormal romance in particular — always shone through. Charley currently resides in Rhode Island, with her family and works at a local university. Debuting in September, Entwined will be the first of three novels set in the Within the Darkness universe.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Website - <a href="https://www.charleyblack.com/">https://www.charleyblack.com/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Twitter - <a href="https://twitter.com/AuthorCharleyB">https://twitter.com/AuthorCharleyB</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Facebook - <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authorcharleyblack">https://www.facebook.com/authorcharleyblack</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Instagram - <a href="https://www.instagram.com/authorcharleyblack/">https://www.instagram.com/authorcharleyblack/</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Goodreads - <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22777464.Charley_Black">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22777464.Charley_Black</a> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2lL4-wJj4h_1SDqwWyQaXKmlOHeYBGawGn8Bz4BL5pZagJBfJX0tBIslapo7DYrcyWqDj57Ph1YfnjjGrf2IZ-_VTBGMXCOtYMtA9n3bFtyTeO9f8zXWrwl1UgJAPNWAE5bb4u2yz7scUmUIKUxVCVsbgwMfm1jxc-2q3X_u_VQ_7JXALV3RC4r2RA/s1080/Entwined%20within%20the%20Darkness%20Instagram%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2lL4-wJj4h_1SDqwWyQaXKmlOHeYBGawGn8Bz4BL5pZagJBfJX0tBIslapo7DYrcyWqDj57Ph1YfnjjGrf2IZ-_VTBGMXCOtYMtA9n3bFtyTeO9f8zXWrwl1UgJAPNWAE5bb4u2yz7scUmUIKUxVCVsbgwMfm1jxc-2q3X_u_VQ_7JXALV3RC4r2RA/s320/Entwined%20within%20the%20Darkness%20Instagram%20.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2183" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2183/" id="rcwidget_76edv53s" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Midnight Musings with Bertenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10863723493868008959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731357372647261533.post-16058534586207531152023-05-02T02:00:00.003-05:002023-05-02T02:00:00.136-05:00Bittersouls L.A. Morton-Yates<p> </p>Spotlight HTML
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoAf33CD3iSqj_lHmGtiZVjQGhD4P6jue1sAN_g9Vw0vIrTb4d8tWzaPHkWfoZ5eU_4NmgTdGPHSI8ZUAQ2Frb09RfdOmYUgk0BWtDxv9vnPIo4ptvXql6t8eTiIEIW5JQgyWKKWfD-N60w6ayuDvf1VrKo8SFRxVv6S6CRXmkiGhXsp7XI2btUYG3ng/s820/Bittersouls%20Banner%20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoAf33CD3iSqj_lHmGtiZVjQGhD4P6jue1sAN_g9Vw0vIrTb4d8tWzaPHkWfoZ5eU_4NmgTdGPHSI8ZUAQ2Frb09RfdOmYUgk0BWtDxv9vnPIo4ptvXql6t8eTiIEIW5JQgyWKKWfD-N60w6ayuDvf1VrKo8SFRxVv6S6CRXmkiGhXsp7XI2btUYG3ng/w400-h153/Bittersouls%20Banner%20.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynpmgOBoKuw9GTIprzDlJT1MVPhglXWc7Md76CAFj3uHxLjR314gkkBSvwntFeRAezvcRe4P-dQJIEIg54NtWCqHQ36cTDM0fOnan7r_kHLC1zk3nzJZWc_UEfIPf-eEBRYLaoiPOTd2ddaJV9lYJ914EY-UCvsgmuXH_rCeqgZ87GiVaFE8ZnrvT9w/s2700/EBOOK.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynpmgOBoKuw9GTIprzDlJT1MVPhglXWc7Md76CAFj3uHxLjR314gkkBSvwntFeRAezvcRe4P-dQJIEIg54NtWCqHQ36cTDM0fOnan7r_kHLC1zk3nzJZWc_UEfIPf-eEBRYLaoiPOTd2ddaJV9lYJ914EY-UCvsgmuXH_rCeqgZ87GiVaFE8ZnrvT9w/s320/EBOOK.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Bittersouls</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b>L.A. Morton-Yates</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Genre: YA Fantasy Romance</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Publisher: Synthesis Press</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Date of Publication: 12/17/2022</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN: 979-8-9866022-0-2 (eBook) </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ISBN: 979-8-9866022-1-9 (Paperback)</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">ASIN: B0BQFLM7D4 </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Number of pages: 286</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Word Count: Approx. 99,500</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Cover Artist: César Pardo</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Tagline: A Shade. A Storm. A Soul.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Book Description:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Cursed with forbidden knowledge, 19-year-old Dela must hide her secret from her nomadic tribe or face exile into the frozen wasteland of the Bitters. When she becomes separated from her people during a blizzard, a mysterious and dangerous wanderer named Talon promises to help her find her way back to them. She quickly learns that nothing is what it seems, that her curse may actually be a gift, and that the Bitters are far more dangerous than she could have imagined.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Packed with unexpected twists, Bittersouls is a mixture of survival, adventure, and slow-burn romance that is sure to get your heart pounding.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BQFLM7D4">Amazon</a></span></b></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div><span><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"></span></b></span></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Excerpt:</span></b><b><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Something moved at the edge of the horizon. It
was like a shadow, black as a cloud but moving fast across the snow plain. Time
seemed to stop, but Dela could feel herself sliding forward as if she were
standing on a lake of ice. Freja was still yelling, but she couldn’t hear her.
Her arms were flailing, but Dela hardly noticed.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">A wave of lights moved in front of the thing,
jumping and turning, quick as sparks. It was like a field of quails fleeing
into the sky before a coming wolf, but the wolf—the shadow—followed them. The
closer it got, the more the shiver racked her spine. She knew exactly what it
was, though she’d never seen one. No one in the congregation had. There were no
stories. No whisperings. Only a name.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">“Shade.”</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Freja stared at her, bewildered into silence.
Perhaps she was going to speak, but then—</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">“Shade!” Dela reached for her friend, snatching
her by the sleeve and pulling her toward her. They ran, berries forgotten even
as the bags bounced in Dela’s grip. They were a dozen strides from the bush
before she thought to secure them to one of her belt hooks. How could she even
think of them at a time like this? They had to get to the camp. People had to
know.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">They skidded to a stop at the edge of the
overhang they’d climbed. The tents were only a dozen feet below, and a handful
of people had gathered at the commotion. They stared up at the two girls with
confusion intermingled with irritation. They weren’t used to their evening
being disturbed by shouting, and the long journey had people’s nerves worn
thin.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">None of that mattered. All that mattered was
what they would do. What were they supposed to do?</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">“Shade coming from the east!” Dela yelled. “Get
the Ministers!”</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Chaos possessed the camp. People scrambled,
yelling. Others just stood with disbelieving frowns. Some started running in no
particular direction. As if that would save them.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Would it?</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Dela knew nothing about Shades. She hadn’t put
much thought into what they might be or do or want. All she knew was that
whatever that thing was, it was one of them. And the lights? The things it was
chasing? What were they?</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Freja was trembling as she crouched and threw
her legs out over the edge of the rocks. It was a maneuver she’d done a hundred
times, and in colder weather than this. But for fear or anger or nerves, her
grip failed. Dela lurched downward, chest striking hard against the rocks as
her hand snapped out into the air—and caught her friend’s arm. She grunted as
she swung the girl toward the rock wall, which Freja caught in an instant. They
exchanged an important glance, but there was time for little else.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Dela stood again, scanning the snowfield for
signs of the shadow. It was still gliding forth on nothing but empty air, like
a nightmare in a dead sprint toward an innocent dreamer. But, she realized, it
was not heading straight for them. It had deviated, aiming toward the empty
field north of them, and if it kept going that way, it might miss them
entirely.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: times;">Could it see? It didn’t seem to have eyes. Nor
any other body part, per se. Did it smell, then? Or feel? How could it expect
to find anything out here in the cold, white abyss of the Bitters?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">Whatever rules it followed couldn’t be the same
as what humans or animals followed. It didn’t make any sense.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: times;">Then she saw the reason. One of the
congregation, maddened by fear, had made a break for it, out into the open
Basin. The Shade wasn’t just going to miss the camp. It was going after him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;">He’d made it a hundred feet from the camp, and
showed no signs of looking back or slowing. From the angle of approach, the man
couldn’t see the shadow coming. Couldn’t see it bearing down on him. Couldn’t
see the impossibility of his flight.</span><span style="color: #222222;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: times;">The Shade engulfed him as though it was little
more than a localized fog. He vanished entirely from view, and for one bizarre
moment, the beast of a cloud seemed to stop.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: times;">Then
they heard the scream.</span></span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></p><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
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<!--[endif]--></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCHlzZ9mBbm6PCMuaaI_6t_g8B0d2QESf5uteklVLI3cdYqcWBSxwY4v3_xE0PICDzkHKUl-fVwH97j8tmWKNSBOAL2-K4SaTmI8opDDzNHLSDPfwUjztAJuvthfiUeEcrY4KGkY52KUWmW1nNGV0oH-agHCq2H5ne-m-OFS4BjYmCX1m70LGTyF25w/s960/L.A.Morton-Yates%20Author%20Photo%20Square.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCHlzZ9mBbm6PCMuaaI_6t_g8B0d2QESf5uteklVLI3cdYqcWBSxwY4v3_xE0PICDzkHKUl-fVwH97j8tmWKNSBOAL2-K4SaTmI8opDDzNHLSDPfwUjztAJuvthfiUeEcrY4KGkY52KUWmW1nNGV0oH-agHCq2H5ne-m-OFS4BjYmCX1m70LGTyF25w/w200-h200/L.A.Morton-Yates%20Author%20Photo%20Square.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>About the Author:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">A life-long lover of the magic of storytelling, L.A. wrote his first story at the age of 7 and has been writing ever since. Speculative fiction, particularly fantasy, has always held a special place in his heart for the uniqueness of the places and the questions it can address. Though veiled by apparent strangeness, he has always seen it as capable of revealing deeper truth about our own reality.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">L.A. graduated from Montana State University in 2015 with Honors in Biochemistry and a minor in Music Composition. This helped nurture his critical thinking and research skills which continue to be instrumental to his writing. During his collegiate years, he also met the love of his life, Julie, whom he later married. At once his greatest supporter and his staunchest critic (when he is wrong, which is more often than he’d like to admit), she has been an integral part of his creative process ever since.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">In February of 2018, L.A. became the father of his first son, Griffin. His second son, Tiber, was born in December of 2019 and his third son, Malachi, was born in January of 2022. Though life has become considerably busier since he became a family man, L.A. continues to work on writing in what little spare time he can find. He hopes to one day pass on his love of literature to his sons.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Twitter - <a href="https://twitter.com/lamortonyates">https://twitter.com/lamortonyates</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Substack- <a href="https://lamortonyates.substack.com/">https://lamortonyates.substack.com/</a> </span></div><div><span style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Instagram - <a href="https://www.instagram.com/lamortonyates/">https://www.instagram.com/lamortonyates/</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif;">Facebook - <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authorlamortonyates">https://www.facebook.com/authorlamortonyates</a></span></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOQyW3aCuR2ThnQjpgOBOSl2SuowQEkOD3BC8X-12tbcufYBLUsNSV6r7p0xLLvh0SfHMSdNdI6gzROB9imGmhc6kIs6EEmYXXHvOt4kb6Er2K_yJvZj0QIO5tWlJIss3XHRhwJgfmVEzJGXAmOxd6U-GCEVs8mownlNsu-Z_65-_HvBGpzQcx6fAAw/s1080/Bittersouls%20Insta.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOQyW3aCuR2ThnQjpgOBOSl2SuowQEkOD3BC8X-12tbcufYBLUsNSV6r7p0xLLvh0SfHMSdNdI6gzROB9imGmhc6kIs6EEmYXXHvOt4kb6Er2K_yJvZj0QIO5tWlJIss3XHRhwJgfmVEzJGXAmOxd6U-GCEVs8mownlNsu-Z_65-_HvBGpzQcx6fAAw/s320/Bittersouls%20Insta.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="ba112ffc2184" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc2184/" id="rcwidget_e2849lcc" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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