Thursday 20 October 2016

Nancy Fraser - Eye of the Pharaoh


 I have the lovely Nancy today sharing a little of her new time travel story with us Eye of the Pharaoh!





Blurb

Publicist Teri Hunter has her hands full promoting Professor Joshua Cain and his new non-fiction book, The Pharaoh’s Mummy. She’s not convinced it’s even possible to turn this absent-minded, modern-day, Indiana Jones into a best-selling author.

Dr. Cain’s PhDs in archaeology and art history have prepared him for almost anything on the lecture circuit and among ancient ruins. He’s just not sure about a book tour...or the sexy publicist sent to monitor his every professional move.

When an odd request falls in their laps while in New Orleans, Josh and Teri find themselves transported to 1920’s Egypt where they must resolve an ancient curse in order to be sent home. Will the dangers facing them hinder their success and threaten their very lives? Or will help from an ancient guardian keep them on-track and safe?

***

Excerpt

Wake up. Kick ass. Repeat.

Teri Hunter mouthed the motivational phrase she’d chosen for her personal mantra as she stepped across the threshold into the dark and musty storeroom.

A dim light shone from a glass-enclosed workroom in the far corner. Taking a tentative step forward, she faltered when the floorboards creaked beneath her feet. Something fast and furry brushed against her ankle. A shiver ran down her back, yet she fought the urge to retreat.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

This was obviously today’s obstacle. Were it not for her professional commitments and intricately organized schedule, she’d have no doubt bolted for the door and returned to the safety and illumination of the main building.

‘Sorry, but the storage area doesn’t have overhead lighting. Preservation of the antiquities. You understand.’ The dean’s words echoed in her head. To make matters worse, what little outside light there was had become nearly non-existent due to an impending thunderstorm.

Drawing a deep breath, she took a second step and then a third, winding her way past a half-dozen crates, some open, some not. To her left she heard a rustling of paper; to her right the distinct sound of footsteps.

Her apprehension grew, the hair on her forearms stood at attention. She’d barely made it halfway across the room before bumping into something large and solid. Reaching out, she laid her hand against the oversized object. Slowly, she raised her head and came face to face with the painted mask of an Egyptian noble. The chipped finish gave the death mask a deranged look.

“You come here often, big boy?”

***

Excerpt 

Teri stared in amazement at the well-worn guest home Dr. Cain had chosen for their stay. In her mind’s eye, she could see the grand entranceway of the Marriott on Canal Street, feel the pampered luxury of the hotel spa. Instead, she got this . . . an early nineteenth-century home in obvious need of repair. Collingwood, apparently, had history. Of what, she wasn’t certain. From the road, it looked like something torn from the pages of a horror novel.

“This is where we’re staying?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise and disappointment.

“You’re welcome to go elsewhere, if you’d like. Personally, I prefer a room with some character.”

She choked back an outright laugh. “It’s certainly got character. As a matter of fact, Freddie Kruger comes to mind.”

He shot her a disapproving frown before taking his bags from the driver and starting up the front walkway. Teri had no choice but to follow. They’d barely made it to the porch when the huge oak door opened. A short, frail-looking woman stood in the entryway.

“Welcome back, Joshua,” the woman greeted.

“Thank you, Martha. It’s good to be here.” Glancing back to where Teri stood, he said, “This is Miss Hunter. She’s with me.”

“Oh,” the woman said simply. “Welcome, Miss Hunter. We trust your stay here at Collingwood will be enjoyable.”

Teri smiled faintly, but couldn’t muster up a ‘thank you’ to save her soul.

“One room or two, Joshua?”

In unison, they both answered, “Two.”

Martha responded with a minute bob of her graying head and then motioned toward the parlor with a sweep of her hand. “We were just about to have tea if you’d care to join us.”

“If you don’t mind,” Dr. Cain began, “we’d like to get situated in our rooms. We’ve got an event at the museum tonight and I, for one, would like a bit of down time to work on my lecture.”

“You’re in your usual room. I can give Miss Hunter the room next to yours, if you’d like.”

He shook his head. “Perhaps she would be more comfortable across the hall with the view of the garden.”

“As you wish, Joshua.”

Teri followed closely behind as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. She was about to turn toward the long hallway when she realized they were climbing yet another flight. What she wouldn’t give, she realized, for an elevator or even a bellman. Rather than voice her wishes, she hiked her carry-on higher up on her shoulder and tugged on the handle of her suitcase until the wheels gained purchase on the worn carpet. The next landing looked to be at least a half-mile away.

When they reached the third floor, Martha stopped outside the first room off the staircase and opened the door. “This is your room, Miss Hunter.”

Dr. Cain, Teri realized, had already crossed the hallway and opened the door to the room just opposite hers. Teri took a short step forward. “Thank you.”

“Bathroom is down the hall,” Martha told her, the woman’s simple statement stopping Teri dead in her tracks.

“Down the hall?” she asked. “You mean there’s no bathroom in my suite?”

Martha chuckled heartily, her wrinkled cheeks jiggling and sagging like warm Jell-O. “Child, there’s no suite in your suite, it’s just a room. And, everyone shares the facilities.” Nodding toward the end of the long hallway, she added, “The key hangs outside the door. You take it in with you, lock the door from the inside and try not to take longer than fifteen minutes.”

***

Excerpt 

A cool breeze brushed across her skin, pulling her back toward wakefulness. She smoothed her hand across her forearm and felt tiny goose bumps beneath her fingertips. She turned her head from side to side and opened her eyes. The sight greeting her sent her heart rate into overdrive.
           
“Who are you?” the woman asked.
           
Teri pressed her eyes shut tight in an effort to dispel the vision, to wake up from what was obviously a dream. When she opened her eyes again, she could make out the faint image of a woman standing at the foot of her bed.

She should have been frightened, paralyzed with fear in fact. But wasn’t. Instead, she found herself struck by the woman’s classic beauty. Her jet-black hair hung in a straight frame around her face, falling just short of her waist. Her huge dark eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner. The flowing robe she wore was a plush cloth of deepest purple, trimmed in gold thread. The expensive garment hugged her ample curves.

“I’m Teri, Teri Hunter.”

“From where do you hail, Teri Hunter?”

“Excuse me?” The woman’s speech seemed stilted, as if she struggled with the English language. Rather than answer her question, Teri asked, “Who are you?”

“I am Anukahaten, guardian of the queen-Pharaoh’s tomb.”

“You’re the guardian of Hatshepsut’s tomb?” Teri asked. The urge to pinch herself awake was overwhelming, but not as tempting as the thought of asking a few more questions before she did.

“Yes. It is so. Many years ago, I failed my queen and now I struggle to make things right.”

“I know about the stone,” she admitted, “and the curse. Can you tell us where to find the statue?”

“I only know it is here, close to Cairo, but I know not where.”


“Can you at least tell me what it looks like, so we’ll know when we’ve found it?”

“It is barely as tall as the length of a man’s hand,” Anukahaten began, “no bigger than a . . .”

Anukahaten’s vision began to fade, her voice trailing off, interrupted by an insistent tapping, an intrusion Teri wanted desperately to ignore.

***

Buy Links:  Amazon 

Fun Fact  The idea for Eye of the Pharaoh came about following a trip to the Field Museum in Chicago. For the longest time afterward, I couldn’t get the images of ancient Egypt out of my head. Then, out of the blue, I received a gift from a relative who had passed...a gorgeous necklace fashioned like an Egyptian collar. The late relative had no way of knowing about my recent fascination with Egypt so I took it as a sign. There was obviously a story inside me begging to come out.











Author Bio

Like most authors, Nancy Fraser began writing at an early age, usually on the walls and with crayons or, heaven forbid, permanent markers. Her love of writing often made her the English teacher’s pet, which, of course, resulted in a whole lot of teasing. Still, it was worth it.

Published in multiple genres, Nancy currently writes for four publishers. She has published twenty-two books in both full-length and novella format. Nancy will release her 25th book in early 2017. She is currently working on her next Rock and Roll novella and two other equally exciting projects.

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.






Twitter: https://twitter.com/nfraserauthor  @nfraserauthor













Thursday 4 August 2016

Marianne Rice


So happy to have Marianne Rice over today giving us a sneak peak of the latest story from
her The Wilde Sisters Series
 



WILDE FOR YOU by Marianne Rice
The Wilde Sisters, Book 3

SYNOPSIS:

Event planner Sage Wilde has lots of lists and no time for a relationship… 

Precise to a fault, Sage plans everything—meetings, meals, and sex. But when she learns her youngest sister can’t carry a child, she steps up and commits to the role of a surrogate mother. It’s not out of sentiment, because Sage doesn’t do love or touchy-feely, but out of practicality. She doesn’t plan on marrying or having children, so why not rent out her unused space, right? 

Luke Riley is a sexy firefighter who’s looking for love in all the wrong places… 

Luke’s morning gets a little brighter when he’s called to a clinic and spots a blonde beauty wearing killer red boots. Though she doesn’t seem interested, he manages to introduce himself. It’s unusual for a woman to push away his advances, but Luke is attracted to her confident nature and strong personality. It’s not long before he wears her down, and she finally agrees to a date. 

Who says you can’t mix work with pleasure? 

Sage blames her growing affections for Luke on pregnancy hormones. But one last hurrah before her belly swells sounds like a well-deserved thrill. After a few passionate nights, the line between love and lust begins to blur—leaving her more confused than ever. 

Luke is mesmerized by her keen wit and social charm. She may claim not to want children, but when she befriends his troubled foster sister, it proves there’s a heart inside of Sage waiting to be loved. 

Will Sage’s surrogacy unlock her willingness to commit? Or will Luke stand by as the woman he loves plans a future without him? 

Available on Kindle Unlimited!

THE WILDE SISTERS SERIES

SWEET ON YOU, Book 1

THEN CAME YOU, Book 2



ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Marianne Rice writes contemporary romances set in small New England towns. Her heroes are big and strong, yet value family and humor, while her heroines are smart, sexy, sometimes a little bit sassy, and are often battling a strong internal conflict. Together, they deal with real life issues and always, always, find everlasting love. When she’s not writing, Marianne spends her time buying shoes, eating chocolate, chauffeuring her herd of children to their varying sporting events, and when there’s time, cuddling with her husband, a drink in one hand, a romance book in the other.






Friday 29 July 2016

Carly Jordynn

Please welcome Carly Jordynn. Today she is introducing her new story 
SASHA BISHOP SHIFTER.
It is Book 2 of 3 in the Sasha Bishop Vampire Slayer Series



Her classmates are becoming vampires. Sasha is accused of being their Sire. The one person she thought she could trust has turned against her. Secrets from the past haunt Sasha’s present, making her senior year, one of turmoil and deception.





Sasha Bishop is the Slayer. With her Halfling and Vampire allies by her side, she had fought and won a vampire war. Now some of her classmates are missing. When they resurface as vampires; they accuse Sasha as being their Sire.
Trouble brews for Sasha and her vampire boyfriend, Hutch when he sides with the newborns. It takes the war to a whole new level. It’s become personal. Angry and hurt, Sasha finds comfort with handsome vampire, Rhydian McDavid, who has an alarming connection to her Slayer past. Now, she must pair up with some unlikely allies to stop a vampire massacre at the Prom, all while being crowned the Prom Queen.
The battle doesn’t stop there. The Vamps of Craig’s Creek are back with a vengeance and plan on making Graduation a buffet. A storm, tornado, and some surprising revelations, guarantee Sasha’s life will never be the same.



BUY LINK FOR SASHA BISHOP: SHIFTER




Carly Jordynn is a writer from Northern Kentucky who loves to weave tales of fantasy, paranormal, and romance. When she isn’t writing a book, she writes lyrics for the Christian band, Phil Parks and One Step Closer.
Carly loves to travel. You can find her at various conferences and other author events throughout the year. Her hobbies include: travel, photography, reading, party-planning, dinner with friends, and hanging out with her family.
Carly is a member of the Romance Writers of America and the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators.

FIND CARLY ON SOCIAL MEDIA



OTHER BOOKS BY CARLY JORDYNN





Thursday 16 June 2016

Diane Saxon - Barbara's Redemption

Today I would love to welcome Diane Saxon. Her new books Barbara's Redemption has just come out and she is giving us a taste of what it's about!



Blurb
 Black Hawk pilot Captain Barbara Lynn Perry is running scared. Witness to an event too horrible to think about and too dangerous to talk of, she finds herself alienated from a world she has always had faith in.
With her Special Forces brother missing, she has only one other person to turn to. When her friend Flynn Swann isn’t available, Barbara is left with no choice but to trust the man Flynn sends to save her.
Psychiatrist Dominic Salter’s information from her superior officer’s file is that Barbara has gone rogue. Despite the damning evidence, every instinct tells him he’s dealing with an honorable woman, one who single-handedly saved Flynn from torture and a sure death. Dominic’s challenge is to delve his way beneath her tough, defensive attitude and coax the truth from a woman who’s too frightened to reveal her dark secret.
In his brand new facility containing a state of the art Dreampsych Transcender he’s experimenting with, a machine far beyond a simulator, Dominic has to gain the trust and confidence of Barbara while he resists the hard pull of attraction to this kick-ass woman.
Betrayed by a member of his staff, events take a sinister turn, and the pressure is on in a fight against time for Dominic to persuade Barbara to put her trust in him and reveal the truth before matters are taken out of his hands.
Pre-Order Links & Order Links

Excerpt - Chapter One
She raised a shaky hand to rub her fingertips over taut lips and tried to swallow, but her tongue was too thick to allow it, her mouth too dry to comply. She held the same hand horizontally in front of her face and watched the vague tremble. The tremor that threatened her sharp shot. The shake that no longer allowed her to pick up a glass of whiskey without being a dead giveaway.
She needed help.
Flynn.
Flynn could help.
She’d saved his life, goddammit. Of course he would help.
So she waited in the silent twilight for Flynn to come.
Pitch black descended and still no sign of the man. So dark she could no longer see the trembling hand in front of her face, but the sweat still formed in the creases along her palm, making her hand slip as she tightened her grip on the gun. She swapped it over from right to left while she rubbed the damp onto the leg of her black yoga pants. It made no difference, she could shoot as well with one hand as the other. Not that she could see to shoot, but she hadn’t imagined for one moment Flynn would have kept her waiting this long, and dark would close in before he arrived.
She’d hunkered down in the comfort of the straw, her mind filled with visions of blood and gunshots while night descended faster than she’d realized.
She’d kept Flynn waiting three nights previously. God only knew how long he’d waited for her, but she’d listened to her sixth sense, believed someone else was there at the meeting point, and she’d hightailed it out of there, leaving Flynn to his own devices. He was still a tough cookie. No point in her hanging around to save him. She’d already saved his sorry ass once before.
The dim light of the stables flickered on and filled the place with a dull buzzing sound. Cautious, she straightened and moved toward her target. The cowboy seemed to be the right height, but it looked like Flynn had gone to seed since leaving the Special Forces three years earlier. She’d heard rumors he hadn’t coped well with civilian life. Probably more to do with having half his face carved up. She twitched her nose in distaste. The voices of the men who had tortured him filled her head, the vicious sound of their hyena cackles as they cut Flynn with glee. It hadn’t been the prettiest of sights, but she’d seen worse. She’d even killed men herself, but never for fun. Only out of necessity, duty, and a desperate desire to live.
It was the pleasure they’d taken out of torturing a man that had turned her stomach. Not that anyone knew. She’d die before she allowed anyone to see her
weakness. It looked like she may have to, after recent events. She’d thought she’d never witness anything worse than Flynn’s torture. But she had.
She closed her eyes and took a moment to control her pulse rate before she stepped forward.
The cowboy turned, staggered slightly in the dead giveaway of a drunken sidestep, and smiled broad and sloppy as his unfocused gaze met hers. Drawing in a deep, slow breath, she realized her mistake. It wasn’t Flynn.
With no other option, Barbara tucked her gun into the back of her pants. It was a mistake she would never have made a month ago. One that under any other circumstances would have cost her life. Lucky for her, it was only some piss head in her way.
“Hey.” Loose-limbed, she stepped forward, a deliberate wide smile in place. “I’m looking for Flynn. Is he here?”
Confusion flitted across the man’s face, his brows pulled down in an exaggerated drunken frown.
“He’s a dipshit.”
Surprise at his viciousness stopped her advance as the man swayed, took two clumsy steps to his left before he gained his balance, and stood swaying before her. His thin lips twisted, bitter and angry.
“You’re not his girl. His girl’s a fuckin’ little bitch. Lost me my job and had me arrested.”
With barely a twitch of her eyebrow, Barbara skimmed her gaze over him. Nasty little fucker. Reminded her of her mother’s boyfriend. Several of her mother’s boyfriends. But one in particular had been a mean son of a bitch. He’d slapped her around plenty, until her mother had caught him and almost pulled his hair out by the roots. Her mother may have had scores of men come and go after Barbara’s father’s death, but she never let a single one mess with her daughter.
Barbara narrowed her eyes at him, never flinched as the horse behind her snorted and stamped impatiently in its stall. All her concentration centered on the drunk. She’d learned long ago with hard lessons not to take her gaze off the threat. This guy was definitely a threat.
“No, I’m not his girl. Have you seen him?”
He rubbed his hand over his lips, sly gaze darting sideways. “I heard he left with the slut.”
Muscles tense, Barbara felt the sick slide of dread. “Where’d he go?”
“New Zealand. They were talking about it in the jailhouse.”
“Who?”
“The fucking sheriff and his fucking deputies.”
“What were you doing there?” She wasn’t interested, but she could see him lowering his guard as they chatted. She never lowered hers. That’s what got you killed.
The guy turned his head and spat into the hay and then sneered at her. “Mistaken identity.” He held up a hand with fingers swathed in bandages.
“Uh-huh.”
“Flynn’s bitch said I went after her. It was her who attacked me and broke my fucking little finger.”
She repressed the desire to smile. She hadn’t much to smile about, but it seemed as though Flynn could have met his match after all.
“Stupid fuckers let my wife bail me out.”
Barbara couldn’t stop the blink of surprise. He had a wife? Poor woman.
“She’s my ex-wife.” His mean eyes flickered down. “She just wants rid of me.”
She could imagine why.
Barbara watched as he skimmed his bloodshot gaze over her, recognized the lascivious leer, and knew instinctively she wasn’t simply going to walk away from their encounter. “So, what are your plans?”
“Fuckers took my gun, but I had another one they didn’t know about at my stupid fucking wife’s house. She didn’t even know it was there. I’m going to take me a horse and ride out of here, and no one is going to stop me.”
She stepped back and spread her arms wide for him to carry on. “I wouldn’t want to try.”
He took a small, stumbling step forward and then lurched at her. Little shit, she never quite saw him coming. She’d somehow thought he would have a little more finesse. His body slammed into hers, and she realized what she’d thought was fat was one hell of a lot of solid muscle bound tightly in that fat.
As he took her down, she allowed her body to go loose. She anticipated the fast whoosh of air that expelled from her lungs, but his weight was a little harder and heavier than she had expected. Winded, she lay still for a long moment. By the time she recovered, he had her breast in his hand, squeezing it tightly. Pain and indignation radiated through her, but as she tried to move, he slung his leg over both of hers to pin her to the ground. The metal buckle on his belt dug hard into the flesh of her belly, and as she wriggled in the straw, the slide of it cut in deeper. The solid press of her own gun into her spine had her stilling.
The guy was an idiot; sometimes they just made it too easy by underestimating her. She may only be five feet four inches, but she was a trained soldier, goddammit.
With a weary sigh, she gave her head a disgusted shake and tightened her lips as she slipped his gun from his hip holster and held it against his temple before he could take another drunken grunt. She pulled back the hammer and met the surprise in his rheumy eyes. There was barely a tremor in her grip as her finger softened against the trigger. No need to terminate him, provided he was reasonable.
Bastard.
The quiet snick of metal stopped her mid thought.
“Take the gun away from Buddy’s head.” Mellow Irish tones reasoned with her from behind her head.
She held it firm, never so much as twitched.
The silver glint of a gun slid into her peripheral vision and kicked up her pulse.
“I’ve got him covered, Barbara, you can remove your gun.” Her name from the unfamiliar Irish voice had her hesitating.
The sour smell of whiskey puffed over her skin, and the bloated face of the drunk still lying on top of her gave her a moment’s pause. She could have simply immobilized him and left him writhing in agony on the floor by twisting his already broken finger, or she could blow his brains out, the stupid fuck.
It wouldn’t have bothered her.
Sweat slicked on the handle of the gun to make a liar of her. Who was she trying to kid? It was never a choice she’d make to deliberately take a life. He may be stupid, but he was no longer a threat.

Where to Find Diane Saxon
Author Website | Author Blog | Facebook  | Author Twitter | Goodreads Author |
Author Amazon Profile Page



Diane Saxon lives in the Shropshire countryside with her tall, dark, handsome husband, two gorgeous daughters, a Dalmatian, one-eyed kitten, ginger cat, four chickens and a new black Labrador puppy called Beau, whose name has been borrowed for her hero in For Heaven's Cakes.

After working for years in a demanding job, on-call and travelling great distances, Diane gave it all up when her husband said “follow that dream”.

Having been hidden all too long, her characters have burst forth demanding plot lines of their own and she’s found the more she lets them, the more they’re inclined to run wild.

Previous Books: 

Loving Lydia -Atlantic Divide Book 1
Bad Girl Bill – Atlantic Divide Book 2
Finding Zoe - Atlantic Divide Book 3
Flight of Her Life
Flynn’s Kiss – Disarmed & Dangerous Book 1
Short Circuit Time
For Heaven’s Cakes
Banshee