Showing posts with label paranormal romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paranormal romance. Show all posts

Thursday, June 27, 2019

Angels and Aliens - Myths and legends, or ancient history? by Vijaya Schartz

This sweet sci-fi romance novel includes a strong heroine, a brave hero, a spoiled cat, and an angel race
Find the direct link to purchase it from your favorite online store HERE
Throughout the ancient world, various mythologies feature extraordinary beings with incredible powers, coming from the heavens to teach and help, or chastise the Human race... or to mine some rare metal.

Whether we call them deities or angels, or aliens, or any other name, they look very much like technologically advanced extra-terrestrials, some with blue skin, some with several sets of arms, some with wings, others with animal heads. They taught our ancestors and made a lasting impression upon the minds of the population of the time. So much so that they left us gigantic statues and sculptures to remember them by... not unlike the US presidents immortalized in the rock at Mount Rushmore.

In the ancient Sanskrit texts of India, these beings wield fantastic weapons. There are several factions, and sometimes they wage war in the sky against equally powerful beings from the stars. They ride flying chariots of fire, and inhabit floating cities... not unlike a mother-ship.

Shiva is represented with blue skin and four arms. This protector of India, possessed a weapon so powerful, they named him the destroyer of worlds:



Some of these beings in different cultures are represented with bird heads, some with wings:

Anunnaki ancient Sumeria
 
Egyptian god Thoth
  
Indian god Garuda


Others have different animal heads, like Ganesha the elephant god, bringer of harmony and happiness in the home.


When you read the Vedas (ancient Sanskrit texts) or ask the people of India about these incredible beings, they will tell you these epic adventures actually took place in their ancient past. According to them, these beings were real and lived among the population of the time, and these are not stories or legends, but their ancient history.

If you want to explore exotic India in an award-winning novel, I suggest this one:

by Vijaya Schartz

A novel of reincarnated love, set in India - Two lovers, murdered in a previous life, meet again in India, where their murderess awaits...

To scatter her brother's ashes over the Narmada River, Fabienne leaves France for the mysterious India of her childhood dreams. As she awakens to a newfound spirituality, unexpected visions of a former life during the Raj stir ancient yearnings for a long lost passion.

Mukunda, the palace architect Fabienne loved a century and a half ago, lives again as an American engineer and works on the local dam project. As Fabienne falls in love again with India and the man of her destiny, the tapestry of her previous life unfolds.

But, in the karmic land of the blue gods, a ruthless foe lies in wait. The Kali worshiper, who murdered the two lovers in a faraway past, has come back through the centuries to thwart their dream once more.

"... a broad-stroked, magnificent picture of a lavish India of the past and the present... a vivid tale of suspense... a gripping account of a woman coming to terms with heightened awareness... a destiny that yields true fulfillment." The Book Reader Magazine - 5 stars.

Happy Reading!

Vijaya Schartz, author
 Strong heroines, brave heroes, cats, romance with a kick
 http://www.vijayaschartz.com
 amazon  -  B&N  -  Smashwords  -  Kobo  -  FB   

Friday, October 20, 2017

J.Q. Rose Shares Her Favorite Poem for Halloween

Deadly Undertaking by J.Q. Rose
BWL Publishing believes Deadly Undertaking is the perfect read for Halloween
because the setting is in the Staab-Blood Funeral Home 
haunted by a shadow man, Henry.
Find J.Q.'s books at BWL Publishing.

Click here to listen to J.Q. Rose read James Whitcomb Riley's poem, Little Orphant Annie.

At this special time of the year, I'm  sharing my favorite Halloween poem below.
Little Orphant Annie by James Whitcomb Riley. BOO!!
Happy Halloween from J.Q. Rose
I loved reading this poem to my third grade class every year. You know how experts tell us not to write too much dialect in our stories? I guess in the 1800's Riley didn't care. The language makes the poem, I'd say. But what's even more fun is to read it out loud. Your tongue needs to twist and turn to negotiate through the words, so read it a few times to train it. Try it. Can you do it without laughing? Enjoy!

 Little Orphant Annie by James Whitcomb Riley

Poem found at All Poetry Website


.  Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay, 
    An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away, 
    An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep, 
    An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep; 
    An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done, 
    We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun 
    A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about, 
    An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you 
      Ef you 
        Don't 
          Watch 
            Out! 
    Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers, — 
    An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs, 
    His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl, 
    An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all! 
    An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press, 
    An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess; 
    But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an' roundabout: — 
    An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you 
      Ef you 
        Don't 
          Watch 
            Out! 
    An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin, 
    An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin; 
    An' wunst, when they was "company," an' ole folks wuz there, 
    She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care! 
    An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide, 
    They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side, 
    An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about! 
    An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you 
      Ef you 
        Don't 
          Watch 
            Out! 
    An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue, 
    An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo! 
    An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray, 
    An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away, — 
    You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear, 
    An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear, 
    An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about, 
    Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you 
      Ef you 
        Don't 
          Watch 
            Out!

First Publication Date: Indianapolis Journal (Nov. 15, 1885), originally published as The Elf Child.

Wishing you a safe and Happy Halloween!! from J.Q. Rose
Click here to connect online with J.Q. Rose.

Friday, July 5, 2013

A Few Lines From...Shirley Martin

This week, a few lines from Wolf Magic by Shirley Martin. 

(This scene takes place after the heroine
 has been jailed for stealing.)




He reached her cell and–
Annwn?
Shock rendered him speechless, his throat dry. His heart pounded wildly.
Sitting on the floor, she held her shift in clawed hands, her arms and legs covered with fur. Her face red with shame, she turned away from him. He heard her sobs, saw her trembling.
This is Annwn?
He clenched his hands, fighting for control. Helpless to do anything, he could only stare. He discarded his shock; his heart turned over with love and pity for her.





Juliet Waldron is next on July 16

Monday, June 24, 2013

A Date with a Vampire



 
by Shirley Martin
 
    Suppose you meet a vampire at a party, and you know he's one of the undead.  Now suppose he asks you for a date. Would you say (1) I never date vampires, (2) Let me think about it, or (3) Your place or mine?
    Within the last few decades, vampires have been portrayed as real sex symbols, handsome and debonair. But it wasn't always so. Centuries ago, people actually believed in vampires, creatures shown to be ugly and desiccated. In eastern Europe, especially, people dug up graves of anyone suspected of being one of the undead and drove a stake through the heart or burned the corpse. 
    All of that changed with the publication of Bram Stoker's "Dracula" in 1897. Now the vampire was portrayed as being more, well, human. At the time of its publication, "Dracula' didn't garner the fame that later years brought to the novel. Yet Stoker's novel set the standard for vampires that would last for years.
    With Anne Rice's publication of "Interview with a Vampire" the bloodsucker underwent yet another incarnation, this time as a troubled, introspective hero.  And since then, we have seen an absolute plethora of novels and movies centered around the undead. Now, we see the vampire as a sexy, romantic hero, one any woman would die for.
    In my contemporary vampire romance, "One More Tomorrow" my heroine, Stephanie (Stevie) doesn't at first realize that the man she has fallen in love with is a vampire. Imagine her shock when she finds out what he is and that he's over one-thousand years old. 
    Here is a truncated version of Stevie's reaction when she discovers that Galan, the man she loves, is a vampire.. . .
    Galan sat down on the bed next to her, but she slid away. "If only you knew how I wanted to tell you, how it hurt not to reveal what I truly am."
    "Yeah, I'll just bet that broke your heart."
    "Dearest, you are breaking my heart now."
    "You don't  have a heart."
    He nodded, pain and misery on his face. "My heart is not like yours. But this much I tell you, and I beg you to believe me. I never sought my vampirism. It was forced on my whilst I lay drugged and unconscious."
    "And you expect me to believe that?"
    "No matter, it's the truth." 
    She had to be by herself. It was all too much to take. If what he said was true--and she had to take him at his word--what a horrible burden to bear until the end of time.
    She raised a finger to catch a tear sliding down her cheek. "You'd better go now, leave me alone. And I think--" Her voice caught. "--and I think it would be best if we stopped seeing each other." 
    "You need time to get used to the idea. I'll call you later this week."
    "No!  You don't understand. This is 'goodby'.  I don't want to see you again."  
 
 
 

   Destined to live only in darkness Galan must defeat the evil Moloch to win the love of the mortal woman, Stephanie.
 
"--an enchanting book with the charm of a fairy tale and an ending that's pure gold."  Alma at Fallen Angel Reviews.



http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006WSJZLO

Friday, August 10, 2012

Night Secrets by Shirley Martin


Fear and betrayal threaten the kingdom of Avador. Keriam, a princess with supernatural powers, must save her father from assassination. But can she trust Roric, or is he part of the plot?

Roric loved once and lost. He wants to put his past behind him and love Princess Keriam, but he fears she is a witch. And witchcraft is forbidden in the kingdom. If found guilty, she will be burned at the stake. Not even her father could save her.

Reviews:

"Night Secrets" is a wonderful fantasy filled with magic, human kindness and evil...If you enjoy good versus evil fantasy, this one must be on your to be read list." Chere, Paranormal Romance Reviews

"Passionate, exciting, gripping and romantic, Night Secrets is as impossible to put down as it is to forget."
Julie Bonello, eCataRomance

 
by Shirley Martin

Chapter One

    A slight tug released Keriam’s soul from her body. She floated to the ceiling, amazed as always that she could look down at herself in bed. With a certainty born of past experience, she knew this was no dream. Ever since her mother’s death two years ago, preternatural powers had evolved within her, and she often wondered why. Was it her mother’s way of watching over her from the Otherworld? These night journeys were even more recent and something she must learn to control, if only she knew how.
    She drifted through the bedchamber walls, then once outside, flew over the maples and oaks that bordered the royal domain of Emain Macha, approaching the open countryside. Heading north, she traveled over the many farmsteads nestled in small groupings with their wattle-and-daub houses, the herds of longhorn sheep dotting the open fields. Here and there a hillfort guarded the country. Although it was deepest night, everything looked clear and luminous.
     Maintaining her leisurely flight, Keriam approached the capital city of Moytura, its shops and stores closed, its many taverns and inns dimly-lit but alive with noise and laughter.
     A heavy mist swirled around her, the night air cool and damp. She headed westward to the Plain of Sorrows, a vast land preceded by a meadow and transected by the winding Nantosuelta River. Through the fog, she drifted down among the thick clusters of oak trees lining the riverbank and smiled at the fairies who slumbered in the branches. To her heightened hearing, the rippling water of the Nantosuelata echoed like a waterfall.
    The sound of hoofbeats jolted her. As quickly as her spirit form would allow, she took refuge within an earthberry bush, afraid someone might see her, even in the dim light.
     Two men gathered by the river, their voices audible as they secured their horses to tree branches. Focusing her gaze in the hazy light, she recognized them as officers in her father's army, although she didn't know their names. What were they doing here at this late night hour? One bald and the other blond, they wore simple tunics and short boots.
    "Gamal just returned from a mission," the bald one said. "He should arrive shortly."
     Was that Major Roric Gamal, her father's courier?
    Aimless talk ensued for several minutes, army gossip and tales of female exploits.
     They became silent when Roric Gamal rode up, an officer she'd seen at the palace many times. He dismounted and looped his horse's halter around a tree branch, then approached the others. Younger and taller than the other two, his gait was steady and confident, like one accustomed to authority.
    "Where's General Balor?" Gamal asked. "He should be present." His clipped accent told her he came from one of the southern provinces, Mag Aurfolaig, perhaps.
     "Couldn't come," the bald officer explained. "The general sent me to represent him."
    "Very well," the newcomer said, his baritone voice clear and resonant. "Let's get this business over with, so we can return to our quarters before dawn." Gamal raised his booted foot onto a tree stump and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knee, and lowered his voice. "No dissension now! We have already agreed we must kill him."
    Kill whom? Keriam’s spirit body turned cold. Merciful Goddess, these men are plotting murder!
    The bald man stepped forward, shaking his fist. "Do it and get it over with!"
    "Think before you speak, Dothan! We must proceed with caution." Roric paused. "First, we must bribe a few government officials. Blackmail others. That will take time. The Lug Festival would be the best opportunity for killing him,” he said, looking at the other two. “Don’t you agree?” Receiving affirmative replies, he continued. “Gives us months to plan. And all the crowds there will make it easier for the assassin to disappear among the people and escape.”
    The Lug Festival, only four moonphases away. Keriam drew back, pressing her hand to her mouth, then gasped when her hand passed through her face.
    Roric Gamal recaptured her attention. "We know the king intends to invite King Barzad of Elegia to Avador soon to discuss forming an alliance between the two countries. Last thing we need. If we can keep Avador weak, we should have no trouble gaining control of the realm." He set his foot on the ground and drew himself up to his full height. "But if Avador forms an alliance with Elegia, there go our plans. We must kill the king!"
    Keriam sank to the ground. Her father! They were talking about killing her father! Goddess, no! They must not get away with this evil.
    "Agreed," the blonde man said. "But how do we accomplish this assassination? Remember, General Balor has the final word. Anything we decide must have his approval. Got to have the army behind us."
    "Of course," Roric said. "Now, I've given the plan much thought. Here's how we'll proceed . . ." 
    The warble of a bird alarmed Keriam, daybreak graying the trees.
A tug pulled her spirit back. No, not now! She must discover more of their plan.
    Within a heartbeat, Keriam found herself falling into her body, as if from a great height. She lay stunned, unsure where she was. At last recognizing her surroundings, she wanted to weep, so afraid for her father, her mind awhirl with panic. Somehow, she must discover details of the plot and warn him.
    No one knew of her spirit travels, but what if someone found out? She'd be accused of witchcraft, a practice forbidden in the kingdom. And no one was aware of her other mental powers, of her ability to discern a person's past or see into the future by touching that person. Unfortunately, this talent often didn't work when she needed it most. By the Goddess, why couldn't she see into her father's future? 
    As she heard her maid in the next room, a new fear crashed through her. What if Maudina found out about her nightly trips? Superstitious girl that she was, would her maid report her to the druids? Keriam prayed she wouldn't, hoping she could count on the maid's loyalty. Like all the servants at the palace, Maudina received a sufficient wage, and well-paid servants were more trustworthy than poorly-paid ones. Surely that fact would ensure the maid's faithfulness? 
    The druids held great power in the kingdom, and religion ruled the lives of all of the country's inhabitants. Keriam closed her eyes, imagining her punishment should she be reported to these wise men. If found guilty, she'd be burned at the stake as a witch. Not even her father could save her, assuming he was still alive to try. Keriam said a silent prayer to Talmora, the Earth-Mother Goddess, to keep her father safe. Shifting her position, she thought hard. She must warn her father of the plot against his life without revealing her means of discovery. Would he believe her? He had to. She pushed her woolen bedcovers aside and slid out of bed, tired and groggy but determined.
    No one must ever learn how truly different she was.
__._,_.___



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