Viari Rose: March 2014

27 March 2014

Destiny Unveiled by Laura DeLuca

Genre: YA

Gabriella and Darron thought their magickal battle was over when they defeated the evil warlock, Richard. When her Aunt Donna seeks Gabriella's help in rescuing her catatonic daughter from the Dark Coven, Gabriella discovers that her cousin holds a power within her that would be catastrophic in the hands of the evil witches.
Gabriella's coven sets out on a journey that may be their last. Along the way, they meet new allies, face devastating treachery, and battle not only the Dark Coven, but the darkness within themselves. When Gabriella finally comes face to face with the cousin she never knew existed, her true destiny is unveiled, and the fate of the mortal world is in her hands.

Darron was on the roof of a large building, elevated dizzyingly high over the road below. Other skyscrapers bordered it, but it was by far the largest building in the general area, standing several stories higher than it's neighbors. The few cars that dotted the street below looked like insects. Above him, the moon shone full, round, and red in the night sky. It was an autumn moon, a blood moon. By the light of that moon, Darron was able to see the practiced movements of six black-cloaked figures, who swayed to the steady beat of an invisible drum. Their shapes were obscure in the pale light, and it was impossible to determine if they were men or women because the dark, hooded robes they wore hid their features from view.

There was an altar erected in the center of a circle that was outlined in black charcoal. On that altar sat the normal tools of ritual: a black tipped dagger, a silver chalice, an incense burner, and multiple black candles. Darron owned similar items. They weren't frightening in themselves. But the altar, like the people who lingered around it, was outlined by a shimmering black aura. The vibrations they relayed were no less than evil. Their presence made Darron shudder. He watched in horror, as a silent and unwelcome spectator to the forbidden rights.

Four of the cloaked figures took up the elemental corners, preparing to call the Guardians. The Guardians answered their call, unable to ignore the summons because magick can't be divided into good and evil. It's both because nature is both, harsh and devastating yet beautiful and gentle as the need arises. It was just as easy for the dark witches to harness the destructive forces of nature as it was for Darron and his coven to call upon its life giving magick. Good or evil was in the heart of its master, not in the magick that was wielded.

A fifth cloaked figure, the apparent leader of the group, stood in the center of the circle with the dagger raised high above his head. The sixth and final coven member groveled at the feet of the leader, his head lowered in acquiescence. The hood of his cloak hid his face though he was no more than a few feet away from Darron.

"Brother and sisters," the leader proclaimed, his accented voice heavy with his foreboding presence. "Tonight in the wake of the blood moon, we come together to bring a new brother into our fold. He has completed the required tasks and proven himself worthy to join us in our work."

"So mote it be!"

The four other cloaked figures cried out in perfect unison. Their hands were raised to the sky in honor of the blood moon.

The leader picked up the chalice from the altar. He followed the path of the circle to all of the elemental corners, stopping at each of the robed coven members in turn. Each offered their willing hands to their leader, palm outward. Each welcomed the point of the black edged dagger as it dug into their open palms without so much as a gasp of pain. The high priest cut a clean line down the centers of the palms of his disciples, and they all squeezed their fingers against the open wound to allow the blood to drip into the waiting chalice.

After collecting the offering from his followers, the leader returned to the center of the circle and the waiting initiate. With one quick motion, he sliced open his own palm. He held his hand over the cup, letting his blood drip slowly into the chalice, until the wound miraculously healed before Darron's startled eyes. When the chalice was full, he carried it to the eager initiate who took the cup firmly into his hands and tilted it towards his lips.

"As this blood makes you one with our flesh, so your soul follows to become one with the darkness," the English voice intoned.

As the initiate drained the last of the liquid in the chalice, his hood fell away, revealing a blonde ponytail pulled back over a pale white face, made even paler by the outline of bright red blood around his lips. Darron watched in stunned, horrified silence as his own face turned to meet his gaze. Eyes turned as black as coals stared back at Darron with a grim smile of satisfaction.

"Rise Darron," the leader commanded. And as he spoke, he lifted the hood from his head. Rise brother of the Dark Coven."

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Giveaway is US ONLY. Laura DeLuca is giving away a Candle gift set, incense gift set, two collectible plate, infinity necklace, key chain, two crystal points, and amber box.

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Laura “Luna” DeLuca lives at the beautiful Jersey shore with her husband and three children. She has been writing stories for as long as she can remember. Old high school friends would tell you she was always scratching in her notebook instead of paying attention in class and the children she used to babysit for always loved to hear her scary stories at bedtime. In addition to writing fiction, Laura is also the sole author of a popular review blog called New Age Mama. She is an active member of her local pagan community, and has been studying Wicca for close to eight years. She loves writing young adult novels, because it keeps her young at heart. She is the author of three published works including Destiny, Destiny Unveiled, and Phantom, and has several more projects in the works.

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20 March 2014

Giveaway: Stealing His Heart by Ella Jade

Genre: Romance

Will the bad-boy pitcher strike out when it comes to love?
Shy music teacher Sophia Ballis has sworn off men. After a bad experience with a college jock she decided it was better to be alone than to get burned again. She focused on her education and now her new job at a local private school.
Professional baseball pitcher Paxton Hughes is a player both on and off the field. He's signed to the Kingston Crushers to bring home the coveted championship title. Nothing can get in his way. Serious relationships don't mix with a life on the road and he never loses focus on the game. One-night stands are his specialty for a reason.
While out jogging one spring morning, the two collide, setting their course in motion. Pax is immediately drawn to the unassuming beauty. Sophia is aware of his reputation and decides one night of meaningless sex with the attractive Texas charmer is just what she needs to get over her self-imposed dry spell. Pax has more than a one-night stand on his mind, but will his bad-boy persona and demanding schedule ruin any chances of a happily ever after?
Content Warning: contains explicit sex and adult content

"Can I walk you to your car?" Pax asked.

"Thank you." Sophia got up from the table and took his hand. "I'm parked right out front."

He led her across the dance floor, waving to the few people who were left, and then out to the parking lot.

"It's that one." She pointed to her beat-up car, the one she'd bought her freshman year of college. It was used then but it still managed to get her where she needed to go. "Probably not as nice as what you drive."

He leaned her against the car and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her heart pounded hard against her chest, strumming loud between her ears. She could smell the beer that lingered on his breath. His hazel eyes narrowed as he swiped the tip of his tongue along his top lip before tilting his head.

"I have a feeling I'm going be seeing you in my dreams tonight."He sighed as he brought his mouth to hers. "Give me something to remember these next few days."

She nodded as she placed her hands on his broad shoulders and guided him to her, closing any space between them. When his warm lips touched hers, she thought she would explode. A burn coursed through her and settled between her legs. The mild tingling she'd experienced when they danced was nothing compared to the intensity she felt now.

As he deepened the kiss, his tongue massaged hers. Increasing his hold on her hips, he pinned her between the car and his massive thighs. She tightened her grip on him when his erection grazed her center. Every nerve ending in her begged to be satiated. The ache inside her stomach moved lower until the dampness invaded her panties. Her nipples poked against the thin material of her silk bra.

When she moaned into his mouth, he placed one last kiss on her lips before pulling away. He looked at her for a moment, pressing his forehead to hers as he stuttered a few words.

"That was…well, I've never…" He ran his fingers through his hair. "You have me tongue-tied, sugar. That doesn't happen often."

Now she wanted to know what else he could do with that tongue.

"You best get in that car and drive away before I…"

She'd never wanted to have a one-night stand more than she did at that very moment. Maggie had said if there was ever a guy to have one with, Pax would be the one. He was a no-strings-attached player. Why hadn't he asked her to go home with him?

"Be safe driving home." He reached for the handle and opened her door. "You have some sweet dreams. I know I sure will."

Sleep? That was the last thing on her mind.

Buy Links: Beachwalk Press Amazon Barnes & Noble

Ella Jade has been writing for as long as she can remember. As a child, she often had a notebook and pen with her, and now as an adult, the laptop is never far. The plots and dialogue have always played out in her head, but she never knew what to do with them. That all changed when she discovered the eBook industry. She started penning novels at a rapid pace and now she can't be stopped.

Ella resides in New Jersey with her husband and two young boys. When she's not chasing after her kids, she's busy writing, attending PTO meetings, kickboxing, and scrapbooking. She hopes you'll get lost in her words.

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Ella is giving away two swag packs during her tour.

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19 March 2014

War's End by Imogene Nix

Genre: Sci-fiction Romance

Forced apart by war five years ago, Renjiro and Selina have another chance at love. Can they make it work or does fate have other plans?

Without the citizenship of the Federation, Indy pilot Selina Codecko is treated like a second-class citizen. When she gets caught up in a bar brawl she's arrested and finds herself in the hands of the Justice Officers.

Renjiro Ito has dreamed of Selina for five long years. As the Commander of the Justice Officers, the plight of this one woman will turn his life upside down.

But there's more going on than just the fate of one woman—there's a seething underbelly that wants to destroy their newly expanded Federation. The chances of a future together are slim, but they'll take any chances that come their way. Will it be enough?

~Excerpt~

"Sit down." Renjiro's terse words filled Selina with pain and sadness.

She acceded to his request in silence, holding her throbbing hand against her breast. He squatted before her, his face close to hers, his dark eyes shadowed. His touch was gentle as his fingers traced the line of her jaw. They shook a little and she felt the glancing caress. It warmed her.

He touched a raw spot on her chin and she hissed involuntarily.

"Where else are you injured?"

Selina shook her head.

"Captain Codecko? Selina?"

His gentle words nearly undid her. Tears burned in her eyes and she blinked, hoping to banish them. It didn't work though. They dripped down her face, scalding her frozen cheeks.

Now his hands dropped to her shoulders. "Where else are you hurt, Selina?" His gaze was hypnotic. It drew her words without thought.

"My hand, ribs, and the top of my head."

He frowned and started tugging at her shirt, pulling it free of the loose-fitting pants.

"What… What are you doing?"

He glanced at her, his face taut and strained. "I'm checking your injuries."

Selina blushed, the heat creeping over her face as she pushed at his hands. "No! You can't do that!"

"Just bloody watch me." His rough words surprised her and her hands dropped away. He continued his almost feverish work at her buttons and very quickly he had the shirt open. Selina thanked whatever had made her fasten a bra over her very tiny breasts. With gentle movements, he brushed the old material of her shirt to one side. He hissed through clenched teeth at what he saw. "You need a medic."

"I'm fine. I've lived through this before. Of greater concern to me is whether I'm going to be charged for causing the riot. I was just—"

"I know. Having a quiet drink. We checked the spy eyes. You will be free to go, so long as we can put together a suitable argument. But I have a proposition. One that would help you, I think."

In her experience, propositions never ended well, but she was desperate enough to listen to what he had to say. So she watched in mute silence as he rose. He backed away as she quickly refastened her shirt. Then he paced to the end of the room and back.

"I've just received a communiqué that there's some Indies about to plan an attack on this moon base. I need people I can trust to get information for me."

She waited. But as he started pacing again, it seemed she would need to ask the question. "What's in it for me?"

He stilled.

Selina held her breath. Waiting.

"I might be able to swing an official citizenship for you."

Just like that, he could brush away all the difficulties she had faced since the end of the war. But trusting people didn't come easily. Not for her. "You can just click your fingers and make that happen?"

He faced her again. His eyes shone almost feverishly bright under the lighting of the room. "No. But I know someone who might be able to make it happen, if you agree."

"Why? Why would you help me?"

He smiled. "Because I owe you."

Buy Links: Beachwalk Press Amazon Barnes & Noble

Imogene is a mother of two, compulsive reader, and bookstore owner. She lives in regional Queensland, Australia with her husband, two daughters, dog, cats, guinea pigs, and chooks. She has a particular fondness for vampires, star ship captains, and things that go bump in the night (especially vampire types).

Imogene has tried many varied roles in her working life including kindergarten assistant, teacher, principal, and kindergarten and child care director, but rates owning a bookstore and writing her own novels as the absolute highlight.

In her mother and wife alter ego, she has travelled widely and lived in some very unique places including Far Western Queensland, Cape York, and even Tasmania. She loves to travel and rates China and Hong Kong among her favorite destinations.

She blames Star Trek Voyager, Firefly, and the works of Alexander Kent for her interest in naval activities and later space fleet interest.

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Imogene is giving away 2 eCopies of Wars End.

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17 March 2014

Destiny by Laura DeLuca

Genre: YA
Gabriella is a witch. The problem is, she doesn't remember. She repressed the memories of her powers years ago when her mother was murdered. Now, the warlock who was responsible for her mother's death has set his sights on Gabriella. He is determined to use her fear to turn her to the dark side of magick…even if it kills her. Her mother's spirit is reaching out to warn her, but even that she pushes away. Desperate to save her daughter, the spirit finds a male witch–one that just happens to be in love with Gabriella. Darron is more than willing to help but the two young witches will have way more to battle than just an evil warlock. There are overbearing jocks and petty rich girls who get tempers flaring and often set Gabrielle and Darron at odds.

There is more to the story than Gabrielle and Darron could even imagine. There are terrible secrets to be revealed, battles to be waged, and lives will be lost. Only after Gabrielle and Darron both come to terms with who they really are, and open themselves up to the true meaning of magick, can they have any hope of fulfilling their destiny.

~Excerpt~
Her eyes scanned the room, from the pale blue sofa to the bloody dent in the wall. But she didn’t need her eyes to know Darron was there. Her heart sensed his presence before her eyes saw him lying in a heap on the ground. His body shuttered with occasional spasms, and even though he wasn’t fully conscious, his lips were twisted in a grimace of pain.

Uttering a gasp of surprise, Gabriella flew to his side. She knelt beside him, and choked back a sob as she took his hand in her own. She saw his chest rise and fall and was glad to know was alive, but she felt helpless as she watched his face contort in pain. She noticed something wet and sticky on her fingertips. She gently titled his head and saw a large gash that looked like it needed medical attention. The skin around the gash was so deeply bruised it looked almost black.

“Darron, what happened to you?”

He didn’t move or reply. Gabriella moved her hand from the cut on his forehead, and her fingers dripped with blood. She bit her lower lip with fear. She knew enough about head injuries to know that the wound could be serious. She grabbed a few tissues from a box on the coffee table, and tried to apply pressure to the wound, but it was useless. The tissues were soaked through in seconds.

“Darron?” She squeezed his hand, and fought back tears of fear and frustration. “Darron, please open your eyes. Please be all right!”

He squirmed and groaned a little in response. Looking at his contorted features, Gabriella felt incompetent and useless. She didn’t know what to do to help him. The cut must need stitches. The blood was gushing through her fingertips, and she was sure his life was slipping away just as quickly.

More than anything, Gabriella wanted to help Darron, to end his suffering. Her thoughts, her desperation, caused something deep inside of her to stir. Something that had long been napping was awoken. The power she had fought so hard to deny was forcing its way to the surface. This time she didn’t struggle against that power. Her instinct to hide from it was finally overcome by the thought of losing someone else she cared about.

Gabriella was pulling strength and warmth from the earth, as though her legs were tree roots taking nourishment from the element. A tingling sensation began in the tips of her toes and spread slowly though her body as she breathed in the essence of the element of air. Her blood flowed and grew warm, the element of water, bringing the power to the surface. She was overcome by a vigorous strength as she envisioned her spirit encircled by the element of fire. She felt so powerful that she thought she could stop the world from churning if that was what she wished. Gabriella focused the power, remembering for a moment her mother’s lessons. She looked down at her battered friend. She willed him to open his eyes and look at her. She demanded it of him.

Gabriella would have thought it was impossible, but she felt herself grow warmer. Her face dripped with perspiration. The power within her reached a climax. Then finally, when she thought she might burst, she felt the energy release. It seeped through her fingers, and shined with an illumination that only she could see. She heard herself chanting unfamiliar words, and scarcely recognized her own voice.

“By the power of earth, water, fire and air,
Heal this man who’s in my care.
Goddess, hear your daughter’s plea.
As I will it, so mote it be!”

Gabriella repeated the words three times. Three was the number of power. Then she watched as the wound on Darron’s forehead healed before her eyes, becoming smaller and smaller, until finally it was gone. The blood was still warm and sticky, but beneath the blood, the skin was smooth and unmarred. Even the horrible bruise had vanished. Gabriella stared in open astonishment, marveling at the work she had done.

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Laura “Luna” DeLuca lives at the beautiful Jersey shore with her husband and four children. She loves writing in the young adult genre because it keeps her young at heart. In addition to writing fiction, Laura is also the editor of a popular review blog called New Age Mama. She is an active member of her local pagan community, and has been studying Wicca for close to eight years. Her current works include Destiny, Destiny Unveiled, Phantom, Morrigan, Player, and Demon.

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14 March 2014

Champagne and Chocolate by Denyse Bridger

Austin Standish is a man of refined tastes. Intelligent and educated, Austin enjoys all of the best life has to offer. A gambler, a gunslinger, and a man who has plans to taste the sweetest prize at The Palace Casino and Saloon - the lovely owner, Chantille L'Amour, the most sought after jewel on the Barbary Coast.
Running a high-class brothel and casino isn't exactly the life she was born to but Chantille is determined to overcome the ruin her family was left in once the Civil War ended. But, she has chosen a difficult path... one that demands much and leaves her lonely. She's noticed the handsome man who comes into her world from time to time, and when she chooses to give in to desire, the passion evoked by Austin's touch may change her life forever...

As she led him to the private wing of the large building that housed her home and business, Chantille had time to question the wisdom of her actions—again. She'd been berating herself for most of the past thirty minutes. Austin Standish was a danger to her; she knew this on an instinctive level. Not that he would hurt her, of course. But, he was dangerous, just the same.

She was acutely aware of every panther-like, lissome step he took behind her. He was elegant in manner and dress, quietly contained but always alert. The sense of being in perilous company assailed her with new severity. She opened the twin doors to her living suite and went inside, hearing him close the doors behind him before joining him.

She continued into the room, uncomfortable as she chafed against the restraints of her heavy dress and the many layers beneath it. She'd permitted a few select men into this suite over the past five years, but none had ever made her so acutely aware of herself and the desire to shed her clothes and feel solid muscles and male hardness pressed to her warm curves. Her breasts felt heavy, and her nipples strained against the fabric of her chemise, rubbing against the soft material until the pebbled points ached. Between her thighs, a slow, steady throb began to increase in rhythm, finding a matching tempo in her heartbeat.

The soft illumination from the fireplace touched the wood that dominated the room's furnishings, warming the smooth, lustrous finish as shadows danced on the walls and glimmered in the reflections of the mirror that adorned one wall of the room. She saw nothing, only the darkness that had grown around her so steadily throughout the past half-hour, a darkness that touched her with fears she couldn't clearly define, much less explain.

Watching the play of light catch in the soft gold of his hair, Chantille was struck again by the intuitive knowledge that dominated the man's handsome features. Barely suppressed sensuality and anticipation were so strong in the shadowed intimacy of the suite that she felt she could reach out and touch the things that presently put them on opposite sides of a chasm she didn't know with certainty she wanted to close. The only thing she did know was that she wanted to be with him more than she had any man she'd ever met.

"Tell me what you're feeling right now, Chantille."

"Angry."

"At me?"

"No," she whispered, then shook her head to deny her dishonesty. "Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't like being vulnerable."

* * * * *

For the first time, Chantille looked right at him, and Austin could read all the uncertainty he hadn't taken the time to notice before. He answered her honestly, unwilling to do anything less.

"Being vulnerable isn't always a bad thing, Chantille. Sometimes it makes you stronger."

"I don't believe that, and you certainly don't." The edge crept back into her tone. "I feel like I did when I was a child, needing to be wanted. When I came to San Francisco, I swore I'd never feel that way again."

Austin drew in a deep draught of air and ran a hand through his hair.

"You don't have to be afraid of anything, Chantille." He knew the words were weak, and he could have kicked himself for them once they were spoken.

She actually managed to smile at the statement, though there was no warmth in the expression.

"Weak women hold no appeal for men like you, Mr. Standish," she remarked.

"Is that what you want? To appeal to me?"

She laughed, a low murmur of sound that stirred the air between them.

"I want to share my bed with you, Austin," she conceded. "What I don't want is for it to cost me everything I've worked for."

"What are you afraid of losing?"

"My independence."

"Your heart."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Don't lie to me, or to yourself."

Chantille met his eyes as if she were trying to pierce the shadows that surrounded them, to see what lay hidden behind that confident stare. When nothing shone forth, she closed her eyes.

Austin let the silence engulf them again for a long minute, then he closed the distance, touched her chin, and made her face him. His thumb brushed at the tear welled in the corner of her eye.

"I do want you," she murmured, voice raw with the force of her feelings.

The loneliness and the need for reassurance was almost a physical presence in the room with them, and Austin was forced to wonder just how long it had been since Chantille L'Amour had uttered those words to any man. If she ever had.

"I want you, too, Chantille."

Champagne and Chocolate is 25% off at the publisher's site for the month of March.
Buy Links: Naughty Night Press

Canadian born and bred, and a lifelong dreamer, I began writing at an early age and can’t recall a time when I wasn’t creating in some artistic form. My life has had several on-going love affairs that shape much of what I write, the American West, Victorian England, cowboys, a passion for pirates, Greek Gods, and Ancient Egypt. The other endless love affairs in my life are Italia and all its magic, beauty, and dazzling culture, and a passion for Romania. Those loves spill into all aspects of my life.

In the past half dozen years, I’ve signed with over a dozen publishers, and have released books in all lengths and genres, and it’s something I hope to continue to do for many more years. A visit to my website will show the diversity of what is currently available, and the mixing of genres and styles that will be employed in many up-coming projects as well.

Voted Preditors and Editors Best Author of 2012 and 2013

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Denyse is giving away a signed print of her book cover, copy of the eBook, and a pair of handcrafted earrings.

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11 March 2014

Cannibal Planet by M.E. Brines

First they destroyed his ship, and then they killed his partner and marooned him on a planet of cannibals. But that last one was their mistake. You don’t kill one Space Ranger and leave his partner alive.

Lieutenant AYA is an attractive woman in a man’s world, commander of a mercenary regiment’s artillery. She confuses masculinity with effectiveness, and denies her femininity. Women are soft, sweet and therefore ineffective. Romantic relationships are for the weak.

Marooned on a planet of cannibals as the clock ticks down on the deaths of billions, can a couple who avoid relationships, work together to save the people of the Cannibal Planet from certain death? Find out in Cannibal Planet!

~Excerpt~

I knew it was going to be one of those days when the warning panel lit up like a holiday display before we’d even been in-system ten seconds. Missiles were blossoming into existence all around us and we’d been painted by at least a dozen sensor beams before I even had a chance to swear.

As my hands danced across the control panel bringing the thrusters on line I called to my partner.

“Hey, Kid! Fire up the laser turret in point defense mode, will ya?”

He threw some switches on the weapons panel and asked, “But where are they all coming from? We’re the only ship around.”

“Minefield,” I said, twisting the ship out of the way of a missile, then corkscrewing down towards the planet’s surface. The kid was thrown from his chair.

“Kid, I keep telling you to strap in whenever you’re in a control chair.”

He crawled back toward his position. “Yeah, I know. But how was I to know that we’d fly right into a shooting war four seconds out of jump space in a supposedly peaceful star system?”

“That’s why you always use the restraint harness. By the time you know you’re going to need it, it’s too late.” I shook my head. It was so much easier just to work alone.

We dodged to port and a missile shot past us, its exhaust leaving scorch marks on our hull. He’d almost reached his chair but was thrown again by the sudden movement, rolling across the little control room of the scout ship. Our inertia-dampeners just weren’t quite up to the violent maneuvering I was putting them through.

The sensors displayed an automatic distress signal from a coastal location near the spaceport. Somebody else must have had trouble with the mines. I turned our nose towards our compatriots in misery and punched the thrusters, diving into the atmosphere.

The tracking board began screaming and flashed three missiles closing the range on converging tracks.

“Frack!” I said. “Hold on!”

We spun like a drunken dancer, dodging one. Our laser took out the second but the third punched right through our hull with a dull bong I could feel through the deck. The damage control panel switched its primary color scheme from green to red and my control stick went limp. I hit the release button on my harness, grabbed my suit’s helmet and headed for the door.

“Abandon ship, kid.”

He scrambled to his feet. “But we’ve still got power.”

“Yeah, but the maneuver drive’s toast. That means we’re a sitting duck. It’s only a matter of time before a missile gets past our point defense to finish the job.”

I twisted my suit’s helmet in place over my head and activated both the radio and the outside speakers, then slid down the ladder to the deck below without bothering with the rungs. The kid snapped his own helmet in place and followed me down, but then made a move toward his cabin.

I ran the opposite way toward the cargo hold. “No time!” I called back. “We’ve only seconds to get clear.” And if the next missile took out our fusion bottle this planet would suddenly find itself with a bright, shiny new sun, but not for very long.

Inside the hold I grabbed the backpack I kept stocked with emergency supplies and tossed it into the cargo compartment of the air raft.

“Evacuate the cargo hold.” I told him and started releasing the restraints holding the vehicle to the deck. He punched buttons in a sequence on the control panel by the hatch, then ran to the open cab of the air raft and hopped into the passenger seat.

I threw off the last restraint as the outer hatch began to slide open, sucking the final wisp of atmospheric pressure into the void. Outside, the planet whipped by twice a second as we spun out of control into the atmosphere. If it hadn’t been for the dampeners we’d have been pinned against the wall like insects waiting to be swatted by the next missile. I threw myself into the control seat, hitting the start button with one thumb while my other hand buckled the restraint harness across my body.

“Hang on, kid.” I punched the accelerator and that was the last I ever saw of him.

The air raft shot out of the cargo bay like a missile from a launch tube but when we hit the slipstream roaring past at thousands of kilometers an hour we began tumbling like a leaf in a typhoon. He hadn’t buckled up and vanished from the passenger seat, taken by the wind and the forces of gravity.

I was alone. Again.

Buy Links: Amazon Crimson Frost Books

M.E. Brines spent the Cold War assembling atomic artillery shells and preparing to unleash the Apocalypse (and has a medal to prove it.) But when peace broke out, he turned his fevered, paranoid imagination to other pursuits. He spends his spare time scribbling another steampunk romance occult adventure novel, which despite certain rumors absolutely DOES NOT involve time-traveling Nazi vampires!

A former member of the British Society for Psychical Research, he is a long-time student of the occult and a committed Christian who sees himself as a modern-day Professor Van Helsing equipping Believers for battle against the occult Principalities and Powers that rule a world in darkness. (Ephesians 6:12)

The author of three dozen books, e-books, chapbooks and pamphlets on esoteric subjects such as alien abduction, alien hybrids, astrology, the Bible, biblical prophecy, Christian discipleship, conspiracies, esoteric Nazism, the Falun Gong, Knights Templar, magick, and UFOs, his work has also appeared in Challenge magazine, Weird Tales, The Outer Darkness, Tales of the Talisman, and Empirical magazine.

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09 March 2014

Morrigan

Genre: YA
Shuffled from place to place in the foster system, Morrigan doesn't know the meaning of home. Plus, she is different. She has power over fire, the ability to move objects with her mind, and glimpse into the future. Just when she believes her life can’t get any stranger, she discovers her true identity.

Filtiarn, a knight with a dark past and a surprising secret, has been tasked with guiding the heir of Tír Na NÓg through countless perils to be returned to her family. Once Morrigan has been reunited with her mother and grandmother, their triad can save the forgotten land of magic from being devoured by an ancient evil.

Morrigan took out a white candle and a stick of dragon blood incense, and set them up in the corner of the room. She sat cross-legged, and leaned forward to light them. No matches were necessary. No lighter either. She simply touched her finger to the end of the wick, and with an iridescent spark, the candle flickered to life. It shone at first with a bright blue flame that gradually settled into a more normal orange. It was the same with the incense—another reason why she preferred not to have an audience.

She stared into the candle for a moment, and took a few deep breaths to clear her mind of all thoughts but those of the magic she intended to perform. Danu and Dagda sat on either side of her, instantly falling into silence, as though they knew she needed her complete concentration. Their energy beside her only seemed to add to the growing sense of power that charged the room.

Morrigan closed her eyes and began to shuffle the cards. As she did, she allowed her breathing to become more even. A silence filled the room as the rest of the mortal world fell away. Soon the only sound she heard was the light thump of her own heartbeat, echoed by the quicker, fast paced beat of the cats’ hearts. She wasn’t sure how much time passed as the cards slipped through her fingers. It might have been minutes. It might have been hours. When she allowed herself to fall into a trance, time became insubstantial, irrelevant.

The tarot cards were so old; the designs on the back were almost completely worn away. She had to shuffle gently to keep them from crumbling to pieces in her hands. Yet they held a power that she knew no newer cards could offer her. As she shuffled them, she focused her energy into them, silently requesting to be given the answers she was seeking. She allowed the image of her mother to fill her mind. When she finally felt the cards had fallen into the order they were meant to be in, she placed the deck face down on the floor, and cut them with her right hand. Then, taking one last, calming breath, she lifted the top card from the pile. With a trembling hand, she laid it down and read it.

“Wheel of Fortune,” she said aloud.

In the center of card was a wheel. As she stared at the picture, that wheel seemed to turn clockwise. The movements made her feel slightly dizzy. The bedroom around her became more and more surreal. The scene on the card became her reality. The figure of the sphinx that sat on top of the turning wheel looked so very real. It might have turned its head to look at her. Its lips may or may not have moved. Morrigan swore she heard a deep, resonating voice whispering the meaning of the card into her ear. Destiny approaching. An unexpected and sudden change was coming—change that could lead to good fortune.

It was the card of fate and karma returned. It meant that she needed to be prepared—to expect the unexpected. Morrigan knew the cards were telling her something was going to happen—and soon. Her destiny, whatever it was, was about to be realized. Even if it did bring fortune, it still scared her to death. She considered packing up the cards right then and there. Her rational mind had every intention of doing just that. Her hands didn’t get the message her brain was sending. Before she knew what she was doing, she had already flipped over the second card.

“The Empress,” she whispered. She exhaled deeply. “My mother.”

It was the only interpretation imaginable. Even as she said it, the pregnant woman, crowned with stars and adorned in a gown decorated with pomegranates, turned to her and smiled. She was no longer a vague featureless stranger, but the same woman Morrigan had sketched earlier that day—a face that mirrored her own. It was an older version of herself, which she saw in the reflection in the nearby full length mirror, had turned chalk white.

The Empress was a symbol of maternal power—of strong feminine influence. But could it mean that her mother was returning? She had never allowed herself to consider such a possibility. To dwell on something so unlikely would have been too painful. But now, with just the flip of a card, she found herself daring to dream. There was only one way to find out for sure. She had to keep going with the reading.

“Six of Cups.”

The third card in the spread represented her past, and even her immediate present. The six of cups specifically symbolized childhood, and she was, technically, still a child. But she had a feeling that her childhood was about to end quite abruptly. The cups in the picture were lined up across a high stone wall, each cup holding the memories of her past.

Her past. It was nothing but a childhood filled with longing—longings which were perhaps about to be fulfilled. She visualized herself taking each cup down from the wall, and pouring the troubling memories away. It was time to start fresh. A new world was about to open up for her. She had known it as soon as she had seen the image of her mother’s face. But what would that world be like? What was waiting for her in the future?

Morrigan turned over the fourth card.

“The Knight of Wands.”

The man on the horse carrying the staff had her baffled. Not because she didn’t know its normal meaning, but because as she stared at the card, it began to take on the physical attributes of the knight in her drawings. He had the same long dreadlocks, the same bewitching stare, even the same cocky smile. The familiarity did not cancel out the meaning of the card. The knight of wands was representative of a dark man filled with a kind of honey-tongued charm. He was also fiery and arrogant, a man with a definite possibility of a dark side. If the knight of wands was coming into her life, she knew she needed to proceed with caution.

She thought she was done with the fourth card, and was preparing to move on to the next, when once again, she found she had lost control of her body. This time, her hands refused to move, while her eyes forced their way back to the knight in the card. She watched as the long haired stranger began to move forward—wandering over various landscapes, some high mountains, some meadows and fields ripe for the harvest. He kept looking back over his shoulder, as though he were speaking to someone. He was on a journey, and he wasn’t alone. Morrigan didn’t need to see his companion to know who it must be.

So, her journey would soon begin, and she wouldn’t be traveling alone. She would have a guide. Whether or not that would be a good thing was another question best left to the cards to answer. The next card told her nothing she didn’t already know.

“The Moon,” she said. “Caution.”

It was a scary card. It warned of tricks and illusions. The two howling wolves that stood under the moon looked back at her menacingly, growling, showing their pointed fangs in a snarl. For the first time since she began the reading, Danu and Dagda made their presence known by lifting their heads and hissing threateningly in the direction of the beasts.

Even the cats sensed it. The journey she was about to embark on wouldn’t be all fun and family reunions. There would be obstacles and deceit, most likely from people she thought could be trusted. The moon was a sign that danger was certainly awaiting her. In was an ominous omen.

“Shhhh.”

She hushed the hissing cats, and gave them each a gentle stroke to try to settle them down, though she was far from settled herself. Again she felt the urge to stop the spread. Her instincts were telling her that no good was going to come out of this reading. She was only going to scare herself. She should never have done it in the first place. When would she learn that sometimes it was best to let life play out without interference or prophetic warnings? Then again, she knew that to be forewarned might be her only advantage. So with more bravery than she felt, Morrigan flipped over the final card.

“No . . . .” she gasped when she looked down at the terrible, skeletal face. “Oh no.”

She should have known. She thought a part of her did know even before she glanced down at the gruesome scene—a skeleton with a scythe in a field of body parts. With the divination going in the direction it was, what else could be the final outcome?

“Death,” she whispered. “Death.”

She knew that in most cases, the death card was a symbol of personal transformation rather than literal death. But a deeper sense of understanding told her that this time the card was meant to be taken literally. She saw only glimpses and shadows in her mind. Brief flashes of faces, some familiar, like her mother and the knight—some still strangers, like a beautiful, almost angelic blonde woman in a flowing white gown. But around them all, including herself, she saw the shadows of death.

Morrigan felt decidedly shaky as she gathered up her tarot cards. She placed them securely in the bottom of her bag just as she heard the door downstairs slam shut. The reading hadn’t made everything as crystal clear as she had hoped, but one thing was certain. Her whole life was about to change.

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06 March 2014

Intimate Strangers by Tara Mills

Can she ever forgive herself? Will she ever forget him?When newly engaged couple, Mac and Kate take a celebratory fishing trip off the island of Pelican Cay, they never dream their romantic bliss is in jeopardy.

What happens will test Kate in ways she never saw coming, make her question what she understands about her own heart, and lead her into the arms of another man.

~Excerpt~

There was a spring in Kate and Mac’s steps when they hustled down the dock, clasped hands swinging between them on this bright and early morning. In truth, it could have been simply the give of the walkway under their feet, but she chose to attribute it to their blissful mood. Her skin still tingled from making love with him back at the hotel. Both wore smiles that wouldn’t quit.

Kate turned her wrist, and his, to admire her beautiful new ring. The breathtaking diamond caught the light and shimmered back at her, utterly captivating her all over again.

Mac shot her a quick glance and chuckled as he gently tugged her along. “Come on. You’ll have all kinds of time to stare at that rock once we’re on the boat.”

“I can’t help it.” She laughed, still thrown by his unexpected proposal. “I love it!”

He turned her hand so he could admire the ring himself then winked at her. “It looks good on you.” Mac craned his neck and spotted their chartered boat. “I see ‘em.” He shared a nod with a man watching them from a fly bridge just ahead.

The man chuckled as he made his way down a chrome ladder to the deck to meet them. “You beat my other crewman.” Turning, he reached for Kate’s hand, hauling her into the boat as Mac boosted her by the hips from behind. Her fiancé leaped gracefully onto the boat after her, and they both faced the captain.

“Welcome aboard the Sea Sprite. I’m Brady Finn.” Still holding her hand, he gave it a hearty pump.

He didn’t look any older than they were, but his sharp features were weathered from the wind and sun. The lines framing his smile gave his tan even more warmth. Her eyes strayed to his sandy hair. Generally, she preferred men who were more clean-cut, like Mac. But the way Brady’s shaggy hair fluttered and feathered in the breeze, with the sun glinting off his natural bleached highlights, was undeniably appealing. As if saving the best for last, only now did she meet his unusual blue-green eyes. Set off by fine lines radiating out from the corner of each, they were beautiful, so striking she was thrown for moment.

No question—most women would find Brady Finn attractive. Trying very hard not to think about it, she blushed at her delayed response to his introduction. “Kate.”

As always, Mac saved the day. Offering his hand to their skipper next, he grinned. “And I’m Mac Schafer.” He glanced around, taking it all in. “Wow, this is some boat.”

“Thank you.” The captain was noticeably pleased at the compliment. “Ah … here’s Rome. He’s going to help you haul in your monster fish today.”

“Rome?” Kate raised her eyebrows as she shook the Latino’s hand.

His lips tightened. “I prefer it to Romeo.”

Brady gave him a good-natured cuff on the arm and told the passengers, “He’s not as big a fan of Shakespeare as his mom.”

Chuckling, Mac clasped hands with him and brought back the man’s easy smile. “Good to meet you, Rome.”

A sigh of contentment escaped Kate as she gazed at her fiancé. Mac had a way with people, a gift for diffusing tense situations. It’s what attracted her to him in the first place.

Stepping back, she was startled to catch the captain watching her, studying her. She had an uneasy suspicion he was very aware of how carefully she’d examined him moments ago. Looking evasively away, she reached for Mac. Pressed against his side while he chatted, Kate rubbed her hand up and down his spine, in dire need of a little of his calming mojo herself all of a sudden.

Oblivious to her tension, Mac smiled at Brady. “You said there’s a bathroom on board?”

The captain pointed to his left. “Through the salon and down the stairs.”

Mac gave Kate’s waist an affectionate squeeze. “See. Told you. You’ll be fine.”

“You can’t miss it.” Brady’s gaze landed on her again. To her relief, he didn’t linger this time. “We’ll head out as soon as Manuel gets here. Excuse me. I’ll see what’s keeping him.”

Rome waved the couple into the cockpit. “How about a quick tour?”

ABOUT THAThere was a spring in Kate and Mac’s steps when they hustled down the dock, clasped hands swinging between them on this bright and early morning. In truth, it could have been simply the give of the walkway under their feet, but she chose to attribute it to their blissful mood. Her skin still tingled from making love with him back at the hotel. Both wore smiles that wouldn’t quit.