"The Sacrifice" a romantic fantasy novella by Shirley Martin

She must die! 

No, Briana couldn't bear it. The holy day of Samhain approached, when the veil between the real world and the Otherworld disappears, and demons stalk the land. To placate the gods and protect the people on the eve of Samhain, the druids choose the most beautiful woman in the land to sacrifice--to knife to death!
 

A seer with special powers, Briana's adoptive mother knows it is Briana the druids have chosen to sacrifice. You must run, she tells Briana, escape! Reluctant to leave all she holds dear, Briana knows she must escape and flees in the dead of night.
 

The druids order their most trusted enforcer to capture Briana and bring her back. Why have they chosen him? Weylyn agonizes. He has loved Briana for years. Which choice will Weylyn make--love or duty? 

 

 Excerpt:

       

        Gods, no!  Today was Samhain!  They’d never get back to their village in time!
        They plodded on, and Weylyn’s face held an expression of grim determination.  But she knew the demons would find them tonight. 
     Darkness fell.  No!  She grabbed his arm.  “Weylyn–“
     ”Don’t say it.  There is a sacred circle nearby.  We shall take refuge there, for ‘tis said the stones will grant us protection.  And the sacrifice . . .”  He shook his head.  Was he happy they would arrive too late for the sacrifice–through no fault of his–or did he feel remorse that he had failed the druids, no matter how great his effort?
   “Soon, Briana, soon we shall reach the circle of stones.” 
     The fog densed, and moisture dripped from the trees.  She clenched her hands and looked in all directions.
     He pointed ahead.  “There!  I see it.  We’ll make it to the circle in time.”  Past thick strands of evergreens, they reached the circle of stones, set on a grassy, level plot of land.  He dismounted and lifted her down carefully, so she could lean against the stones.  “See, I told you–“
     Screams and howls rent the air, screeches and the heavy thud of feet.  The earth shook, the screams getting closer. 
     “Weylyn!”  Forgetting her ankle, forgetting everything but her horror, she clung to him.
 The horse bolted, rushing off into the night. 
      Weylyn shook his head.  “No time to lose!”  He picked her up and set her across the stones, then stepped over them. 
     Strange creatures moved among the trees, bright eyes shining in the dark.  A monster approached them, closer, closer.  No!  Gods, no!  Briana screamed.  
     “Weylyn, please, what are we going to do!”   She held Weylyn fast, her heart pounding with fear, with horror, with a terror greater than any she’d known.  His heart thudded next to hers as he pressed her body to his. 
     No, no, no! 
     The demon neared them, its eyes gleaming with intensity.  The stench of rotten meat fouled the air, and it grunted as it moved with slow, plodding steps.  Shorter than they, it had a solid build, its squat body covered with fur.  Saliva dripped from its mouth.  Razor-sharp teeth glittered as it opened and closed its thick lips. 
     “Stay behind me, Briana!”  Weylyn threw off his cloak and drew his sword from the scabbard.  The demon breached the space between them, only feet away.  It grunted as it moved, swaying with each step. 
     Faint with fright, Briana threw off her cloak and tugged at one of the stones to hurl it at the demon, but they were too big for her to dislodge.  She glanced up.  “Weylyn, look!”  Another brute menaced them, then another and another. 
     Weylyn’s head turned from left to right, his body flexed to fight.  How could he defeat them?  The demons would get them, devour them.  Gods, save us!
     The earth shifted beneath them.  Briana pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling a scream.
     “Briana, hold onto me!”  They moved back together, the monster still advancing.  No matter how they moved, the ground shifted, then gave way.
     “What?  What?”  Briana screamed again.  She clung to him as they plunged down, down, down, until she thought they would fall forever.  They finally stopped, and in spite of her sore ankle, she felt as if she’d landed on feathers.
     “Well, now.”  A feminine voice greeted them. “We have company.  How nice!  We don’t get visitors often.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Please check out all of my romances on www.shirleymartinauthor.com

Find this title at Amazon here 

 

Behind the Cover Artist's Curtain: The CAF

By Michelle Lee

BWL Art Director

“And so it begins …” 

Just where does a cover begin?  To some degree, it starts in a place that I have no way to touch – within the author’s imagination.  Authors will have some kind of ideas of what their characters, settings, etc look like – and they do their best to get it across within their story.  Some authors will even have an idea on mind of what their perfect cover will end up looking like.

So the first step (that involves me) is a way for an author to get those ideas across to me, so that I can try to bring it to life.

Now in an ideal world, I would have time to read each and every story two or three times before I start working on a cover, so that I know all the ins and outs of the story.  Unfortunately, I don’t even have the time to read the story once before working on the cover.

So instead, I work from something called a cover art form, or CAF.  Basically, it is a form that author’s fill out, that takes their story and boils it down to character details, and pivotal settings/scenes.

Each publisher has their own CAF …

I am an artist who likes details.  Lots of details … and options.  I am a big fan of options.  I like it when authors suggest a couple of different ways the cover could go and still be something they are proud of.

Because, that is what ultimately I am trying to create – a cover that the author is proud to have marketing their book.

So a CAF askes for the most crucial elements of a story.  What kinds of things are those? I am including various questions from various CAF's that I have used, all of which I feel am important.

First of all, I need to know what genre line I am dealing with.  Mysteries/Suspense/Thrillers will have a lot different style of cover from a Romance.  For example, let’s look at two books by the same author.

Just by looking at the covers, you can tell which cover is for a romance … and which is not.

And despite being close in genres, a romance will often differ from a Spice line book, since the Spice line tends to be erotic romances.  Although, that is not always the case – some Spice books will still have a softer cover.  But some won’t.

In this case, I bet you can tell which is which.

Next are details of the book itself …

The full title

The author’s name

Series title, if applicable

Then we get into the details of the book itself … and different publishers use different forms/questions.  Some of them that I have worked with are:

* Tone (in other words, is it dark, humorous, colloquial): 

* Specific Genre (contemporary romance, urban fantasy, etc.): 

* Setting (time period AND location):

* Pivotal scene(s): 

* Scenes or settings that are integral to the story: 

* Give us a brief synopsis of the book: (This means, literally, a paragraph or two. The purpose is to give the artist a feel for the action and tone. No more than 150 words.)

* Provide the blurb for this book:

From there, we move on to what could easily be the longest section of the CAF, depending upon the story itself.  The section where the author has to work the hardest – because it is the most crucial, and all that I have to work from to create the cover.  Some of the various questions I have asked are:

* Mood (anything that might help set the feel of the cover):

* Colors (those you want and those you absolutely do not want): 

* Objects that are part of the storyline that you might like to see on the cover:

* Main Characters:  Most covers WILL have a person or couple on it.  Make sure to provide information for each pivotal character.

- Hair Color:
- Eye Color:
- Build:
- Style of Dress (give at least two examples):

- Additional Information (be sure to include any tattoos or piercing, facial hair, etc that are mentioned about the character):

* If there is something you specifically do not want on the cover state it here. This is your chance to speak up – PLEASE use it.

If asked what the most important detail is, I would have to say eye color.  Why?  Because it is the most often overlooked detail when images are selected.  I've had it happen often that an author will find an image that fits their character to a T, from the hair to the clothes.  And then come to realize that the image has blue eyes and the character has brown.

Luckily, eye color is a fairly easy fix.  If I had to suggest which to find images based on, I say go with exact hair color, and let me change the eye color.  Because hair color is a pain to change, and have look realistic.  But eyes are fairly simple.

After that, we look at fonts.  A lot can be conveyed by a font, and it is my job to make sure that each font matches the cover I created, the genre of the book, and most importantly the book itself.  For example, I wouldn’t use a loopy lasso looking font on a serious thriller.  But I might use it on a fun, and whimsical contemporary romance about a woman roping her perfect man – a cowboy.  Conversely, I might use a stark, simple font with sharp lines and pointed tips if the book were a dark vampire romance.

Now, some authors have fonts that are used on all of their books, and they like it that way.  Others don’t mind something different each time.  So that has to be taken into consideration too.  So authors normally have a chance in the CAF to weigh in on the fonts …

Generally, the last part of the CAF directs authors to look at previously created covers for their publication house, and even covers created for other publishers by the house artists, to give a suggestions of styles, colors, look and feel. 

For example, if an author says they  like this cover By Shirley Martin.

What this tells me is that they like a sexy cover with clean, bold lines.  Nothing too busy.  But still has some soft elements – namely the red silk along the side. 

What about the following cover by Rita Karnopp?  

At first glance, this is also a fairly straightforward cover, until you start to look closer.  The woman is a bold focus point, but it isn’t as simple as it seems.  The background is stark black and white, suggesting at grittiness.  You also can’t quite make out what the background is, but you can kind of see hints of rocks, trees and water, so it is outside.  Along the bottom, is a man on a horse, in silhouette.  And it is balanced by the dreamcatcher with the author’s initials in it.

So it is a relatively busy cover, with a lot to say.  If an author suggests this cover – it could be for the colors, and the play of softness and starkness.  Or it could be because of the way numerous elements of the story are blended together. 

What about when both ideas need to be blended together?  Something a little bit busy, but sexy!

 Then you have something like Ann Cory’s Unladylike Behavior.  It has a lot of elements, the castle, the pearls, the roses, and the women.  Obviously, the woman the focus, but they the cover overall is soft and sexy, and very feminine.  And notice the roses aren’t quite normal – that is because there is a silk sheet laid over them, and faded in.  The castle has mist around it, in a soft pink to match the roses.  The roses, by the way, are colored to match the lipstick of the two women.

So if an author suggests this cover, I know we are looking at soft, sexy, and yet it can convey numerous elements of the story.

I definitely like when authors mention covers that they like elements of, even if it isn’t my work.  Makes things easier …

Now if you are interested in looking at my cover portfolio, it can be found HERE.  http://eroticdesign.eroticpen.net  I feel I must mention, some of my covers are for erotic romances … so some may be very sexy, and rather hot!  You’ve been warned. : )

So that, in a nutshell, a cover art form. 

I hope that you have enjoyed this brief glimpse into what goes on for me in creating a cover.

Fate, Kismet??

Whatever you want to call it, it turned Interior Designer, Wendy Seidel’s world upside down. From a chance meeting at the airport to Florida and back to Ohio, she can’t believe the strange circumstances that throw us together, after I  literally knocked her off her feet at the airport.

Hi, I’m Bill Johnson, and I thought I’d take a minute to talk about Wendy.

I’ll never forget my first meeting with Wendy. Yes, I literally knocked her off her feet in the airport, accidentally on purpose.  Oh, I didn’t mean to knock her over, that was an accident. I just meant to bump into her. But she darned near stopped and wham, I blasted into her.

From the minute I saw her, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. That red hair and those green eyes mesmerized me. I never went in much for red heads, too hot-tempered. But this chick hypnotized me or something.

So, there we were both hurrying to catch our plane and bam, I knocked her over. Talk about a temper. Phew, let me tell you, she could freeze a glass of water with that look and cut you to the quick with a few words.

Okay, I have to admit, getting knocked down would have put me in bad temper too, but gees, I did apologize. Not that it mattered, she was off and running lickety split. Yep, hell-bent on her mission.  So much for meeting her.

But…as luck would have it, there she was sitting at my departing gate. Well, heck, how could I resist talking to her? Not that she was much for talking. Had her nose stuck in a book and wasn’t about to take it out. At least not until I kept up my end of the conversation, which she wasn’t responding. I think I was annoying her more than anything.

Before I knew it, they made an announcement that or flight had been cancelled. So much for spending three hours trying to get to know her. At least that was my plan. I was going to con the person sitting next to her out of their seat. Instead, I had to make arrangements to stay in a hotel. Hey, maybe I’d get lucky and she’d do the same.

If you want to know what happened, you’ll have to read Designed for Love available at Amazon

 
Excerpt:
“What the hell?” My carry-on bag slid across the floor and slammed into the wall. My feet slipped out from under me, I landed flat on my back, and someone fell on top of me, pinning me to the floor. The breath knocked out of me, I lay still a moment.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I finally caught my breath and pushed him off. “Everyone’s always in such a big hurry.”

“Why’d you slow down? You darned near stopped in front of me.” He stood up, brushed himself off and held out his hand to help me up. “Sorry.”

I knocked his hand away, got to my knees and stood. I didn’t need his help. Not his or anyone else’s for that matter. What I needed was to find my bag and get on to my gate.

“Look, I’m sorry. It was entirely my fault. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.” He held his hand out to me again, but I ignored it. “Here, let me get that for you.” He hurried to pick up my bag, but I grabbed it first.

“Look, Mister, I have a plane to catch, so excuse me if I don’t have time to chat.” I straightened up my bag, grabbed the handle and started toward my gate. Good looking in a rustic sort of way, I had to admit. Probably worked outdoors or at least spent a lot of time outside. Not that it made any difference. I didn’t have time for him. Or any man for that matter. I had a career to build, and men didn’t figure into it.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like men. I did. Even dated occasionally. Eventually I’d like to have a relationship, even get married. But relationships and marriage took time, not a priority right now. My career came first. Something about him, though.

I couldn’t resist looking back. Great. He stood watching me with a silly smirk on his face. Nice eyes, soft gray. I loved gray eyes. Maybe because my grandfather had gray eyes. He lifted his hand and waved at me. Heat burned my face, and I hurried off in the direction of the gate, looking at the signs above. Only at Gate 2. Not even close. Of course my gate was at the farthest end of the airport. Thankfully, there was plenty of time to get there.

I avoided a heavyset man, hell bent on his mission. I hated this time of year. Everyone was in such a big hurry.

To make matters worse, my butt hurt but I resisted rubbing it. Didn’t need to look like any more of an idiot. Ah, Gate 11, finally. Now I could sit down and relax, since there was still forty-five minutes before my flight. I took a book out of the side pocket of my carry-on and settled back to wait. Not that I could concentrate, anger at my boss raged inside me. Who in their right mind set up a meeting with a client right before New Years? And in Florida, no less. Obviously, Nick didn’t care that I had plans for New Year’s Eve.

So I was getting out of Ohio, big deal. Sure, my friends thought I was lucky, especially with the predicted snowstorm. Didn’t make any difference to me, I liked snow.

I glanced out a window. Already it was coming down pretty heavy, and there was still a good half hour before my flight.

Damn it, I hated flying. I could have sent the samples just as easy. What was so important they required me to personally bring them? I thought we’d settled everything before the client left. Why the sudden change? They could have at least waited until after the holidays.

Nick, my boss, promised I’d be home by New Year’s Eve. Yeah right. I knew how these things went. First this problem, than that one. I’d be lucky to be home in time for my nephew’s birthday on the sixth. Nick better not have any funny ideas. This was strictly business. I’d heard about his reputation with women. So far he hadn’t shown an interest in me, and I certainly didn’t have a problem with that. Good-looking though Nick was, nothing about him attracted me. Definitely not my type. Not that I had a type.

“Looks like we’re on the same flight,” a masculine voice said.

I looked up and almost groaned out loud. This couldn’t be happening. What were the chances we’d be on the same flight? I tried to ignore him, but something drew my eyes to his.

“Bill Johnson.” He extended his hand toward me. “I really am sorry about knocking you down.”

I shrugged and shook his hand. “No problem.” A quiver started deep in my stomach when he held my hand a bit longer than necessary. Rough, calloused hands. Does hard work. Maybe construction. I pulled my hand away and turned my attention back to my book. I hated talking to people at airports. Lord, please tell me he doesn’t have the seat next to me. I couldn’t be that unlucky, could I?

Of course I could.

Taking a peek at the ticket sticking out of his coat pocket, I groaned. Seat 16A. No way, what were the chances? I hoped he’d take the hint and leave me alone.

“Are you staying in Fort Myers?” He sat down next to me.

Figured, no such luck. I nodded. Maybe if I didn’t contribute to the conversation, he’d go away. I kept my eyes on my book but couldn’t concentrate. I had the irresistible urge to look at him, but ignored it. What was it about him?

“Visiting or business?”

I looked up from my book. He just wasn’t going to quit. “Business, no time for pleasure.” Maybe that would shut him up.

He smiled. “Everyone has time for pleasure. All work and no play...” He let the rest of the saying hang.

I put the book in front of my face. “I guess I’m a dull boy then.” Why didn’t he just let me read in peace. I couldn’t be much ruder. Some people just couldn’t take a hint.

Bill laughed. A big hearty laugh that caused people to stare. I wanted to crawl under my seat. “What’s so funny?”

“Honey, you look like anything but a boy.” His gaze took me in from top to bottom and came to rest on my breasts.

Okay, I’m well endowed and wished I had left my jacket on. Not that there was much to see through my bulky sweater, but enough. Heat rushed to my face again. Crap, why did I blush so easily? My face was probably as red as my hair. “Okay, so I don’t look like a boy. Just finishing the saying. And DON’T call me honey!” I put the book in front of my face, turned away from him, and tried to read. Lord, spare me friendly people. Especially men.

The last thing I needed was a man trying to pick me up. I wished he’d just go away. I could call airport security, but didn’t want to cause a scene. He’d done enough of that.

“Since you won’t tell me your name, I don’t know what else to call you.”

“Don’t call me anything.” I slammed my book shut, stood, and walked to the window. What more did I have to do to let him know I wasn’t interested? I stared out the window. Things didn’t look good outside.

“Full blown blizzard.” Bill’s deep voice came from behind.

I felt his breath on my neck and shivered from the warmth of it. Or was it from his nearness? Whatever it was, I didn’t like it. I looked at my watch. Still almost a half hour before take off. So far they hadn’t cancelled the flight.

As if my thoughts magically conjured it up, a voice came over the PA system. “We regret to inform you that all flights to and from Cleveland Hopkins Airport have been cancelled until further notice. New flights can be rebooked as soon as we resume our schedule. Sorry for the inconvenience. Airport shuttles are standing by to take you to a hotel. If you can’t get a room, you’re welcome to stay at the airport. Concession stands and restaurants will remain open for your convenience.

Great, just great. What more could go wrong? At least I could go home. If I could get a cab, that is. With the way it looked outside, I had a feeling most of the roads were closed, too.

I moved away from Bill and took my cell phone from my purse, got the number for the cab company from information, and punched it in. Crap, a recording. “No cabs due to weather.” Terrific. I punched in information for the number of the Sheraton Hotel. Hopefully, they still had a room. Spending the night sleeping in an airport wouldn’t improve my mood.

“Sheraton Hotel, how can I help you,” a female answered.

“Yes, I’d like a room for the night.” Please don’t tell me they’re all booked, I prayed. I didn’t care what kind of room as long as it had a bed.

“Yes, I have one room left. Two double beds. One hundred and fifty dollars.”

I let out a low whistle. A bit more than I cared to spend, but no matter. “I’ll take it.” I read my credit card number, grabbed my bag and raced to the exit while I spoke. Now to find an airport shuttle. Talk about luck, a shuttle parked just outside. I pulled the door open, and someone bumped into me.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

I turned and looked into familiar soft, gray eyes. “Are you following me?” This was beginning to feel creepy. What was with this guy?

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Bill let out a low chuckle. “We can share a ride if you don’t mind. Give the driver a break.”

He followed me into the car. “Sheraton Hotel and...” He looked at me. “Where to?”

What were the odds he’d be going to the same hotel? This was getting scary. “Sheraton.”

“No kidding. Hey, maybe we can get together for a drink or something.”

Like I couldn’t guess what the or something was. I shook my head. Jerk. What made him think I’d even want to have a drink with him? “No thanks, I have work to do.” I looked out the window. How the driver managed to see where he was going was beyond me. All I could see was white. Thick, white, blowing snow. This was by far the worst snow storm I remembered. I just hoped it let up by morning like the weatherman promised.

New Book Blogger: Various Titles by Betty Jo Schuler

New Book Blogger: Various Titles by Betty Jo Schuler

Time-Tantrums by Ginger Simpson

Okay, okay, I know Ginger is monopolizing the blog, but her free days on Amazon sort of came close together.  Time Tantrums is supposed to be free today and tomorrow, however, there might be a glitch.  Still, you must suffer through this post.  :)  If you enjoy a time-travel with an historical twist, then this is the book for you.  The book was previously released as Sister's in Time and one of Ginger's best sellers, but Books We Love gave the story a new life, cover, and title.

My name is Taylor, and I can't think of a better way to acquaint you with the two 'heroines' in this story than to use a previous interview.  We might not have put our best foot forward, but truth is truth, and let's face it...Mariah and I didn't much care for each other at the time.
 

Interview with Taylor and Mariah from Time Tantrums

Today, through the power of the pen…okay, the computer keyboard, I’ve been able to bring together my two heroines from Time-Tantrums.  I thought it might be interesting to the readers of this time-travel to hear from each lady personally about her thoughts on waking up in a new and strange era.  We’ll start first with Mariah Cassidy, our pioneer wife and mother of two children then go to our modern-day attorney, Taylor Morgan.

Ginger:  “Good Morning Mariah.  It’s very nice to have you here.  A reader can only imagine how strange it was to start off on a trip to town for supplies and awaken in another time and place. Tell us how you felt about it.”

Mariah: *runs her hand down her long gingham skirt and sits a little straighter on her stool.  “It’s very nice to be here, although it does bring back some frightening moments.  *glances around at all the equipment and leans back to study the cylinder-like mike.*

Ginger:  “Tell us a little about what happened the morning you woke up in 20th century Colorado.”

Mariah:  “There isn’t much I recall except packing a lunch for the trip and waiting for Frank to bring the wagon around.  The children and I had already done most of the chores indoors and were ready to go.” *sighs*

Ginger:  “Go on….”

Mariah:  “The last thing I remember is stopping next to a boulder so our son could… well you know.  A nest of rattlesnakes spooked the team and I reckon I was thrown off the wagon seat and hit my head. Frank did the best he could to manage the horses—”

Ginger:  “I’m sure it was a frightening moment for everyone, but tell us how you felt when you regained consciousness after the accident.

Mariah:  *widens her eyes* “Scared.  There I was in some big ol’ bed, in a room filled with strange contraptions—like in here. *gestures to speakers and control panel* “I had a tube in my throat, couldn’t talk, and a man I didn’t recognize at all sat by my bedside constantly and called me Taylor.  I swear, you don’t have any idea how exasperating it is not to be able to speak.  I had no idea then who Taylor was or why he thought I was her.”  *turns and smiles at Taylor, seated next to her*

Taylor:  “Well it wasn’t any picnic waking up in your archaic bedroom with your pesky husband bugging me, either.”

Mariah:  “Pesky?”

Taylor: “Yes, pesky.  The man wouldn’t take my word that I wasn’t his wife.  And how you lived back then with no cell phones, hair dryers or nail salons, I have no idea.  *Bends her knuckles and examines her manicure*

Mariah:  *swivels on her stool* “Your husband was insistent, too.  I must have told him a thousand times my name wasn’t Taylor.  It wasn’t bad enough I had to be in a hospital for such a long time, I couldn’t believe the… the tacky clothes he brought and actually expected me to wear them to your house.  I have doilies that cover more.

Taylor:  “You wouldn’t know style if it was forced on you…and it was.  Those things hanging in your… your armoire are a far cry from New York’s fashion center.  I couldn’t tell the difference between your daytime and nighttime wardrobe.”

Ginger:  “Ladies, ladies, we’re getting off track here.  Let’s get back to the interview.  Taylor, tell us about your first impression… in a kind way if you don’t mind.

Taylor:  “Can you imagine landing in a space in time where words like taxi, phone, radio, and Lexus don’t make any sense?  I felt like I came from Mars and spoke a totally different language.  Frank, Miss Priss’ husband, got frustrated with me.  How is that my problem?”

Ginger:  “It must be alarming to wake up in a place totally strange and then have to be without the usual comforts.”

Mariah: “It’s equally as frightening to wake up in a place full of gadgets you know nothing about.  I almost fainted when the basin in Taylor’s kitchen growled at me.  And I had no idea that ice boxes had come so far.  Frozen meat, sodas, and what about that little device that opened cans all on its own?  My goodness.  I tell you what though; I’ll never be able to describe the thrill of flying.

Ginger:  “Oh, that’s right.  You flew in an airplane, didn’t you?”

Mariah: “Yes, David arranged for me to have that most wonderful experience.

Taylor:  *Her face red, her jaw tense*  “What other wonderful experiences did David arrange for you?  Did you sleep with my husband? *Hands move to hips*

Mariah:  *Lowers her gaze* “Not of my own will.  Remember, he kept insisting I was you.  *turns accusing eyes to Taylor*  “Well, you slept with my husband!”

Taylor:  “It’s not my fault.”

Mariah:  “Then whose fault is it?”

Taylor: *Points to Ginger*  “I didn’t write the story, she did. I was on my way to work, minding my own business when she dragged me into her plot.  It’s her fault.”

Mariah:  “Yeah, it is her fault.  Frank never would have thought of sleeping with someone else. We were perfectly happy until she dreamed up this combination time-travel historical. *cast a stony gaze at Ginger*

Ginger:  *checks her watch*.  “Oh dear, we’ve suddenly run out of time.  This has been very interesting, but we’ll have to say goodbye for now.  All I can say in closing is Time-Tantrums is available now.  Visit Amazon.com and take advantage of the amazing price (either free or at a very competitive amount.)  Thanks for joining us.  I’ll be back next time with a book that features only one heroine.  I think you can see how "tantrums" worked it's way into the new title.

Sarah's Heart by Ginger Simpson

Hi,

I’m Sarah Collins, and I’m here to tell you that my… well Sarah's Heart is my story, but actually Ginger Simpson’s book, and is free today on Amazon.  When I shared the idea with Ginger, I couldn’t really decide which genre best suited my experience, so I guess I’ll let you read and decide if historical, women’s fiction, romance, western, or perhaps some other category strikes your fancy.  If nothing else, the cover by Michelle Lee has to leave you breathless.  But then, a little about the story:

After my folks died, and I found myself alone and pursued by an ugly and unscrupulous banker, I decided to sell what I could, buy a wagon and team and head for California.  I truly would've re-considered my actions had I known the wagon train I traveled with would be attacked by a war-party and I’d be the sole-survivor.  God knows I tried to save my friend, Maggie, but to no avail.  After what I’d been through, I hardly expected a snakebite to take me down…and it might have had it not been for Wolf.  Not the animal, of course, Grey Wolf, a half-breed who really had reason to leave me right where he found me, but he didn’t know that at the time.

If you think prejudice runs rampant today, it’s not anything new, trust me.  Try traveling with someone of mixed blood, especially when people hold the Indians in such low regard.  Here’s a little excerpt to show you what I mean:

Set Up – Wolf and Sarah are traveling to Independence but stop for rest at a mission along the Oregon Trail.  The army arrests Wolf on suspicion of stealing from the post, although he’s never been there.  Sarah is left alone with the priests and nuns, wondering if Wolf will ever return or if staying to help teach the children is her fate.  She’s just taken three little girls on a flower-picking outing and they’re returning when…

As they trudged along the grassy path back to the mission, the unmistakable spots of a painted mare caught Sarah's eye. She hurried the children inside, handing them off to a passing nun, and then ran around to the front. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.

It had to be Scout tethered to the hitching rail alongside a black horse with a patch of white just below its forelock. Both wore no saddle, and the dappled mare greeted her with a friendly nicker. Sarah approached, brushed her hand down the animal’s muzzle and turned toward the church entrance.

Wolf stood in the doorway, his dark hair hazed gray with dust and his left eye swollen. Blue, purple and yellow hues tinged his cheek, but the bruising did little to detract from his handsome face.

Sarah ran to him, flung herself into his arms, and hugged his neck. “Oh, am I ever glad to see you. I was worried sick you wouldn’t come back.”

Sensing him stiffen, she realized her forwardness and quickly backed away, fixing a crooked grin on a face that burned with embarrassment.  “Forgive me. I’m just so excited you‘re here.” She nervously picked at her fingers.

He smiled then winced, dropping the puffy lid of his injured eye. “I would have been back sooner, but the army took its time in proving I wasn’t who they thought I was.”

“Thank God, they finally believed you.”  Sarah blinked back happy tears.

“Oh, it wasn‘t my word they trusted.  The quartermaster was on leave and the only person who could identify the man who stole the rifles and ammunition. Luckily, my description didn’t fit the details he’d provided for the wanted poster. I’m missing a scar running the length of my face, and my eyes are the wrong color. I never thought I’d be so grateful to have hazel ones.”

“Or me so thankful to see them again.” 

Still reveling in their moment of closeness, but pained by his obvious discomfort at her show of affection, she took a composing breath.  “You must be so tired. Come in and wash up.”

“How are you?”   His gaze drifted over her.

  “The people here have been wonderful to me. I couldn‘t have been in better hands. From the looks of your eye and cheek, you didn‘t fare nearly as well.”

“Just further proof that half-breeds aren’t any more appreciated than full-bloods.”  He opened his mouth, working his jaw back and forth. “The beating is a reminder from the guards in the stockade that I don’t measure up to their standards.”

Sarah reached to touch his bruised face, but he grasped her wrist, holding it in mid-air. “It’s all right, I’ve gotten used to it over the years. It’ll heal.” He gave a half smile and released her. “I sure would like something to eat.”

I hope you'll pick up a copy and enjoy the read.  I appreciate "likes" on Amazon if you truly enjoy Sarah's Heart.  I loved writing for you.

Weekly eBook Winner

Congratulations to the weekly ebook winners in Books We Love's annual Spring Fling Event!

This week's winner is James Van Hooser.

James wins his choice of any two Books We Love ebooks or Spice ebooks. He also receives TEN extra entries into the Kindle Fire drawing May 31. James, please visit our website http://bookswelove.net/ and make your two choices, then email the titles to bookswelove@shaw.ca

Remember, only subscribers to our newsletter are eligible to enter our contests, so if you're not a subscriber go here and sign up now. Find the entry form for Spring Fling there too!

http://bookswelove.net/contest.php

Congratulations James!

The Character who Keeps Coming Back

The character who keeps coming back; most writers have them. The book that can’t or won’t be finished--there's at least one on every writer’s hard drive. My particular dark horse always returns in the first warm weather, this year occurring in March. Her sweet German nickname is Blumchen and she’s here again, sucking up my waking hours. Needless to say, I’m reediting and reimagining scenes and conversations I’ve visited many, many times. I’ve journeyed to this imaginary world regularly, at least once a year, since 1986.

A complete reworking doesn’t take place every year, at least not since the first decade. Blumechen's is the first book I ever completed, although a satisfactory ending, I think, still eludes me. Like Constanze of my Mozart’s Wife, this young heroine insists on speaking in the first person, which both narrows and deepens her POV. It’s like writing pinned inside her dress. What's more, she belongs to the cast of characters already familiar to readers who are interested in Mozart and his circle of musicians, dancers, con artists, noblemen, Masons, and various stage-struck hangers on.

I’ve heard authors talk about having a “channeling” experience with their characters. There are many tales of automatic writing and spirit dictation, which sounded at first as if they should be taken with great handfuls of salt. However, after the experience I have had in writing this old and perhaps never-to-be-finished novel, I know channeling does happen. Ordinarily it takes a period of work to make your character dolls start moving independently, but in this case, it appears I was the vessel chosen by a voice from the past. She wanted me to tell me about the events of a single, intense summer, and I've tried to give her my attention.  She came at night, during a time when I was still working in an office, and kept me awake for most of the night. As you can imagine, this eventually lost me my day job, but that's all water under the bridge now.

So began this tulip-time, and now we're into green May and Blumechen is back again, stamping her little foot and calling for rewrites and editing. She insists I do my best work, despite the fact that the story is a humble “historical romance.” I hasten to add that it’s "romance" in the original sense of the word, in the way Romeo & Juliet or The Scarlet Pimpernel  or Wuthering Heights are "romances." I’m not using the modern commercial sense of the word with a happily ever after ending . I’m using the old-fashioned bloody insanity of a love affair, the madness which can so easily end in tragedy. IMO that's the true nature of the beast, and exactly what makes completing a tale of a hopeless passion so very, very difficult.

--Juliet Waldron

 http://www.julietwaldron.com/

Juliet Waldron is the author of several historical novels set in the erotic, exotic18th Century:

Mozart's Wife

Genesee

Red Magic

All available from BWL

PAGAN GUEEN is free today and tomorrow in kindle! by Vijaya Schartz

Don't miss this incredible deal. Get PAGAN QUEEN for free in kindle today and tomorrow HERE. And since it's book 2, you should first read book 1, PRINCESS OF BRETAGNE (get it HERE). Book One features the very same main characters a few years later. The next books in the series will skip a generation and feature new heroes and heroines.

CURSE OF THE LOST ISLE SERIES:PRINCESS OF BRETAGNE:
http://amzn.com/B007K1EGAM 806 AD - Alba (Ancient Scotland)

From history shrouded in myths, emerges a family of immortal Celtic Ladies, who roam the medieval world in search of salvation from a curse. For centuries, imbued with hereditary gifts, they hide their deadly secret... but if the Church ever suspects what they really are, they will be hunted, tortured, and burned at the stake.

As the Vikings raid the coast of Alba, Pressine of Bretagne sets out to seduce King Elinas of Dumfries, chosen by the Goddess to unite the tribes against the foreign invader. Elinas, still mourning his departed queen, has no intention to remarry. Head-strong and independent, Pressine does not expect to fall for the very attractive, wise and noble ruler... Furthermore, her Pagan nature clashes with the religious fanaticism of the king’s Christian heir, who suspects her unholy ancestry and will stop at nothing to get rid of her.

PAGAN QUEEN:
Download it free at:
http://amzn.com/B007Z8F7IA

810 AD - Alba (Ancient Scotland) - Queen at last, Pressine brings victory to her beloved Elinas and prosperity to their growing kingdom. But she has to contend with the intrigues of Charlemagne's bishops, spurred by her Christian stepson. While Elinas, on the battlefield, remains unaware of his son’s machinations, Pressine fends off repeated assaults against her life. She also fears the curse that could bring her downfall. For the love of Elinas, she will tempt fate and become with child. But when her indomitable passion challenges the wrath of the Goddess Herself... can she win that battle?

What the reviewers said:

"Schartz paints a realistic picture of life in a medieval castle, with all its smells, tastes, visuals, and feelings, and as always, all the primary, as well as the secondary characters are well-developed and interesting. I'm looking forward to the others in this series." Roberta at Manic Readers - 4 1/2 stars

"The exciting battles and period details also drew me in as did the intrigue surrounding Elinas' son trying to prevent him from marrying Pressine... I'm very much looking forward to finding out what's next for Elinas and Pressine when the series continues with the release of Pagan Queen." - 4 stars - The Hope Chest Review

Vijaya Schartz writes medieval in futuristic and fantasy settings as well as straight medieval historical novels and historical fantasy.  She also writes science fiction for women, with kick-butt heroines and romantic elements.

Find out more about Vijaya and all her books on her Amazon page HERE 
And on her website at:
http://www.vijayaschartz.com/

Ellie's Legacy by Ginger Simpson - Historical

Today, May 6th, is a free day on Amazon for Ellie's Legacy.  Although this book is a "previously published" work, re-releasing it through Books We Love gave me an opportunity to go back through and touch up parts that I've since learned needed some attention.  This book, previously Sparta Rose, was named the best historical read of 2009 by one of the most esteemed romance sites on the Web, Love Romance Cafe.  My reviews for SR have been positive, but I choose not to list any of them with this new version as I'm anxious to see how Ellie's Legacy fares.

  If you have positive suggestions for my further endeavors, please email me directly at mizging@gmail.com and let me know in private.  I'd prefer that method if you have issues with my writing.  I have no problem with constructive criticism, but I do take offense to the "snarky" types of reviews readers seem to be leaving these days as they do nothing to help me learn in this process of being an author.  Without readers there's no reason for stories, so I strive to bring you the best of me.  *smile*

Here's one of my favorite excerpts:

She walked to the counter. “I’d like to look at some of your sidearms please.”

One red brow arched. “Sidearms? Why Miz Roselle, what in the world are you going to do with a gun.”

“It’s a gift,” she lied. Her lips tightened into a thin line of impatience. She hated untruths. Why was everyone always in her business? First Ty, now Percy.

Men!

Percy moved to the weapons’ display case and gestured. “We have a large assortment. Will this be on your father’s account?”

“No, I’m sure I have enough money of my own.” She crossed her fingers and studied the guns in the new-fangled glass display.

“I’d like to hold that one.” She pointed to a shiny silver revolver.

Percy handed it to her. “It’s a beauty, just got it in this week. It’s one of those new Colts. A thirty-six caliber. But depending on who the gift is for, that big ol’ Colt might be a little too much. You might want to take a look at this new Smith & Wesson twenty-two caliber.” He gestured to another pistol.

Ellie eyed the blue plated weapon with rosewood grips and wrinkled her nose. “It looks so small in comparison.”

“Yes, but this one is a single action, seven shot model rather than the old cap and ball design. It’s much easier to load and fire.” Percy eyed her suspiciously, “Are you sure this ain’t for you Miz Ellie? If it is, I’m certain you’ll find the Smith more suitable to your abilities.”

A typical man’s attitude.

Her jaw tensed. When would people quit treating her like a child?

She held the revolver like an expert, measuring its weight and overall feel, but eyed the one to which he pointed, and then shook her head. The Colt was much more impressive. Its heavy weight wielded unbridled power in her hand. She turned and aimed toward the door just as it opened.

Ty Bishop.

“Whoa, don’t shoot,” Ty threw up his hands. His eyes widened. “Is that thing loaded?”

She quickly dropped the gun to her side, certain her face matched Percy’s hair. “No it isn’t, and what are you doing here?”

“A better question is what are you doin’ here. I thought…”

“I changed my mind, if that’s all right with you,” she snapped. “And why are you following me?”

“I’m not. Your pa sent me to pick up a few things he ordered.” With a huff, he turned his attention to the clerk. “Are they here, Percy?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Ty. Got those nails and rope in yesterday, same time as I got the new Colt Miz Ellie is holding.”

Ellie promptly laid the gun back on the counter. “I was just curious, that’s all.” She gave Percy a stern look then walked over to the yard goods.

“But…Miz Ellie, you asked…”

Ellie didn’t want him to spill the beans. “I came to look at material for a new dress, Percy. You must have misunderstood me.”

“But-but,” he stuttered. “You asked to see a sidearm.”

She forced a giggle and ignored the confusion on the clerk’s face. Ellie fluttered her eyelashes at him and waved a limp wrist in his direction. “Oh, Percy, you silly goose, why would I say that? I said I need some yardage—just a might longer than my arm. When you showed me the new guns, I didn’t want to appear rude.”

Thanks for stopping by, and kook for Sarah's Heart and Time Tantrums on their free days next Saturday.