Book Blast: The Triad of Power: First Quest by Denysé Bridger

Genre: Fantasy Romance


On the fantasy world of Foress, the daughter of the world’s last remaining god is challenged to locate one of the ancient swords that were forged as the Triad of Power among the once-powerful gods. Sherindal is a skilled warrior, but a woman with many conflicts in her heart. She has spent her life in the service of her father, the god M’Har, yet it is not she who will wield the most powerful of the swords. Diviner is to be her brother’s destiny, even though she is certain the legacy should be hers. Sherindal carries another of the three ancient weapons, Huntor. The final part of the triad is to be held by the hands of men, and her lover, the Prince of Ember City, is the guardian of Predator.

They’d only slept for minutes when the huge doors of the Prince’s chambers were flung open and the spacious room was invaded by numerous men, all bearing swords.

“Rienn.”

The word was a warning, and Sherindal slithered from the bed when he released her. She scooped up her weapon as she rolled, oblivious to her nakedness. She whirled to face the first rush of the attack. Somewhere through the early morning hours since they’d made love, Rienn had thought to retrieve his breeches, she noted from the corner of her eye. He had managed to gain his weapon, and they fought, back to back.

Sherindal hissed in fury and pain when the second of the men who engaged her slipped past her defense and inflicted a wound near her waist. It was a surface injury and she quickly rewarded him by slicing off his sword hand. Howling in agony, he toppled back, then fled as he recovered his footing several feet away from her.

Rienn had killed two men and was about to run through the third when Sherindal’s voice filled the room, and the blade she wielded, Huntor, rose with her song. The attackers froze momentarily, those two who remained, and she smiled when the weapon cut them down, then drifted back to her outstretched hand, coming to rest in her grasp with near peaceful ease.

“Your blood-thirsty weapon has been sated nicely this morning,” Rienn observed with a tense glance at the gleaming blade.

“Who are they?” she asked, her tone cold as she met his gaze.

“Why would you assume I know?” he retorted instantly. “This is hardly what I would consider an invigorating start to the day!”

“Really?” One eyebrow rose in emphasis of her sardonic tone. “It is one of the more interesting diversions you might have provided, Rienn.” Her laughter was faintly mocking, and not a little bit ironic.

Rienn’s handsome features suffused with rage and he reached for her, gripped her bare arm with fingers that dug into her flesh like steel bands.

“You can be an evil bitch,” he whispered darkly.

Sherindal smiled, and this time it was genuine. She nodded, kissed his chin, the closest she could get to his mouth from her disadvantaged height, then she gasped as a fiery lance reminded her of the slash near her left hip.

“Enough, Rienn,” she said.

He released her, scooped her into his arms, and placed her in the center of the feathered mattress of his bed. He looked closely at the injury, yanked the bell pull, and then went to the heavy wardrobe at the far end of the chamber.

His guards were rushing along the corridor when he returned to the bed and helped Sherindal into one of his linen shirts. She bit her bottom lip against another stab of pain and laughed in macabre amusement when she spotted the duo who entered the room.

“They look rested enough, my love,” she muttered.

Rienn glared at her, then turned an even fiercer visage to the men who should have prevented the assault in his private rooms.

“Get them out of here, then report to Radisan.”

“Radisan will no doubt beat the life out of them, Rienn,” she remarked. “Your brother is overzealous when it comes to punishment. He enjoys watching other people writhe, especially when he is the orchestrator of their anguish.”

“Would you rather I reward them for their lapse?” he snapped. “We could have been killed, Sher!”

“Highly unlikely. Get me my own clothes,” she requested. “I want to dress.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he warned from his position near the door. As the two guards dragged the last of the fallen men into the hall, he slammed the door into place and speared his lover with a look that frequently froze men in their tracks. Sherindal rose from the bed to retrieve her belongings.

“Why?”

She sighed and began to apply salve from the small medicine kit she carried. When the wound was smeared with the peach-colored cream, she wrapped clean linen around her hips, then continued to dress. Dark brown trousers, forest green tunic, black boots and vest, and lastly the sword, in a sheath that she wore at her back, the glittering hilt visible between her shoulders when she faced the Prince again.

“Rienn,” she said gently. “I would not leave you if it wasn’t necessary. This is something I must do. I have no choice!”
 

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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 affair in my life is Italia and all its magic, beauty, and dazzling culture. That passion spills into all aspects of my life.

My first major fantasy novel is AS FATE DECREES. (Available in bookstores everywhere, and on Amazon’s international sites.) The novel relies heavily on Greek Mythology, and is set in Ancient Greece and modern Athens. If you enjoy a tale of Gods, Destiny, and the battles of an Eternal Champion, this is the book for you! (Less than six months after publication, it was a finalist for the 2008 Aurora Award.) Not surprisingly, there’s a touch of romance throughout, of course!

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. (All my social site links, etc., are on the About Me page.)

Author Links:  Site     Blog     Facebook     Twitter   

The Decision by James Burnett

Genre: Supernatural Romantic Comedy

Sexy superstar idol Chevalier has a problem. Shy and publicity averse, he escapes his fans by morphing into a woman, thanks to a family gene. However, this ability will not last forever, and in any case will end the first time he – or she – has sex.

Six years into an amazingly successful career when he had no time to do anything but work, it’s now time, after twelve years of switching between the two aspects, to work out which one should become permanent.
The challenge, while dating in both aspects, and trying new things to help settle which of two different futures will be best, is to work out which choice will bring the greatest happiness. Of course all this has to be done without revealing the family secret.

This proves harder than expected, as both aspects interact with a lot of the same people, several of whom notice that the two aspects are never seen together.

Complications abound as work and social pressures combine to create unexpected situations which threaten to derail the process of making the right decision.

~Excerpt~
The concert had been a great success. As always. He was wildly popular, with his slim physique and knock'em dead looks, but it was the voice that captured them. Women and girls swooned over him, and he was not unaware of the occasional glances he got from men. As the stadium cleared out, Chevalier locked himself in his changing room. Changing room. He laughed at the thought. Yes, that's what he did in here, but nobody suspected what changed. The transition took a few minutes, but the body needed several more to recover. That was one reason the door was locked. The other was that he didn't want anyone to discover his other clothes. They also fit a five foot ten person, but not Chevalier, at least not when he was Chevalier. Three inch heels and a B cup wouldn't do anything for his image, if they were found.

Another seven minutes later, she emerged. She was dressed to be ignored. Undistinguished working clothes that looked like they had been worked in. Nothing to draw attention to herself. The heels were to make her taller than Chevalier. In five years as Chevalier's administrative assistant, more gofer in the eyes of his management company, nobody had suspected Serina Sharpe was also Chevalier.

She had Chevalier's clothing and stuff in an anonymous bag, and walked confidently out of the exit, straight past the crowd of fans aching for a closer look at their idol. An idol that nobody ever saw leave. Even so, there was still a crowd of hopefuls, all of whom ignored her, a nondescript woman who didn't deserve a second glance.
As far as Chevalier's management company, MAK Industries, was concerned, she was a necessary evil. On paper she worked directly for Chevalier and was supposedly his cousin. She had become not only a buffer between him and his managers, but between him and the world.

In the taxi she took back to the hotel, she remembered the night when he was thirteen. Puberty had arrived, and he woke up in the middle of the night, exhausted and sweating, as if from a disquieting dream. Absently he went to scratch his balls. They weren't there. Neither was the other thing that should be close by. Instead there was a slit. He had run to his parent's bedroom, frightened out of his mind. As soon as they had turned on the light, his father had said, "Calm down. I didn't know whether this would happen to you, but I know what it is."

"What!" he, or was it now she, had screamed. "You knew this might happen and you said nothing!"

His mother's calm voice took over. "We didn't know whether it would happen or not. If it didn't, well, we would have scared you for nothing. Your father's family has a gene that affects roughly three children out of four. At puberty you gain the ability to switch sexes."

"You mean I'm a girl now?" It was almost a squeak.

"Yes, Steve." His father explained, "But only for the moment. You can change back and forth, until you decide which one suits you the best. It takes a lot of energy, so I wouldn't do it too often."

"Daddy, you mean you were a girl once?" He fought to keep his voice normal.

"Yes, but I much preferred to be a man. One word of warning. This ability will only last until you have sex for the first time. After that, you're stuck with the role you chose. Also, if you don't make a choice, sometime in your mid to late twenties, your body will choose for you, and it may not be the one you want."

"Don’t worry, love" his, or was it now her, mother said, enveloping her in a warm and comforting hug until she stopped trembling. "Tomorrow we can go out and buy you a lot of girl's clothes. I always hoped I could do girly things with you." The enthusiasm in his mother's voice gave him pause. He knew she had wanted a daughter, which was why they had tried for his brother, Dave, who was ten now. He loved her, and if this would give her joy, then he would be a dutiful daughter for a while.

Buy Link:   Amazon

I was educated at Gordonstoun School in Scotland, where I lived in what was supposed to be an enormous pentacle built by a mad sorcerer. That may have affected my outlook on life.

I made my career in casinos, first in London, and then in The Bahamas, having now worked for what is now Atlantis casino on Paradise Island for almost forty years. I really enjoy meeting all sorts of interesting people every day, and that gives me an awful lot of insight into people’s characters which I can use in my writing.
I run a pit that is located between two enormous glass sculptures by Dale Chihuli of the sun and the moon. This means that I tell people that I can always be found ‘between the Sun and the Moon in Paradise’.

Having read SF and Fantasy from a very early age, it was probably inevitable that I would write my novels in that genre.

When I need to chill I take the ferry to one of the other islands, which is fabulous for doing absolutely nothing. Except writing of course.

I am married and have two wonderful daughters, and two furry cats who often sleep with us.
I started out by writing stories from the casinos where I worked, as many were worth recording, and some were truly outrageous. I started novel writing when I had exhausted what was truly a mother lode of entertaining vignettes.

I don’t write for a particular market, but I write what I would like to read myself, and I always try to be different.

The Dragon Legacy by Jane Hunt

Genre: Paranormal Romance




When emotionally fragile Fleur Curwen decides she wants excitement in her boring life she signs up for a Murder Mystery Weekend in the wilds of the English Lake District. She enters a paranormal world where danger and death are common occurrences.

Demon slayer Lukas Draco is a loner. He lives by two simple rules: No emotional entanglements and duty must remain his first priority. His beliefs are challenged when he's inexplicably drawn to Fleur, a human woman with an unusual psychic aura. Sparks of sexual attraction ignite threatening both his search for the dragon's egg he buried a thousand years ago and Fleur's life.Under the cover of a murder mystery weekend an apocalyptic hunt begins.




Excerpt:
Fleur stole a sideways glance at Lukas as he conversed with Jasmine. His impressive physique exuded an aura of power personified by a fit, muscular body and long, lean limbs. Filled with suppressed sexual excitement, she half closed her eyelids, leaned back against the headrest, and continued her secret study of him. His face was the epitome of masculine beauty, characterized by well-defined angular cheekbones, covered with pale, almost translucent skin. Its apparent delicacy did not detract from his masculinity; he looked like a fallen angel. A tell-tale blush stained her cheeks rosy. A rush of heat pooled between her legs. Fleur shuddered. Shocked at her impulsiveness, she sat on her hands and admired the sleekness of his fashionable long, straight hair, which looked like silk. Neediness overpowered her cautious nature as her gaze feasted on its remarkable black color, reminiscent of an exotic bird or reptile with highlights of metallic turquoise and blue woven through it. Fleur stole another glance at Lukas from under her lashes. He stared back. Horrified, she blushed unable to avoid his inquisitive gaze. She waited for the smug look or the double entendre. Lukas’ smile hid a myriad of emotions. The fire in his heated look betrayed him, luminescent and golden, in stark contrast with the dying afternoon light.

Lukas slanted a glance at Fleur. The look of rapt absorption on her face stilled his breath. She looked at him hungrily, as if he was a delicacy she would love to taste. His blood echoed in his head as it thundered through his arteries. Arousal exploded in every inch of his body, highlighted by the uncomfortable tightness of his designer jeans, a testimony to his body’s readiness to act. He stopped talking in mid-sentence. Jasmine looked at him through the rear view mirror. His body leaned into Fleur’s, attuned to her hot gaze’s invitation. No. He couldn’t, not here or anywhere, with her. Lukas sensed the exact moment Fleur noticed him. He disguised all signs of his arousal. He hoped his expression revealed none of his inner turmoil.
The truck turned into a concealed driveway. Calmer, he resumed his light conversation with Jasmine, who didn’t remark on his recent distraction. Fleur stared through the window. Moments later, the truck stopped with a shudder. Lukas smiled at her hasty retreat. He sighed as the truck door shut behind her. His lack of control bothered him. His mission needed all his attention. A dalliance with a pretty human was not on his agenda. It would jeopardize the dragon egg’s safety.

“Welcome to Hallow House.”

Jasmine walked around the truck for their luggage. The grey, windswept house stood hidden among the hills. Paint peeled from the window frames and moss grew along the grey stone walls. A wave of coldness swept through Fleur. She shuddered. “It’s so atmospheric, perfect for a murder mystery.” She looked across at Lukas. He seemed preoccupied. A woman appeared at the house’s front door. Lukas’ face lost its shuttered look. He smiled.

“It’s lovely to meet you both. I’m Grace.”

“It’s lovely to meet you too,” Fleur smiled at the older woman, reassured by her kind smile.

“I’m delighted to meet you.”

Lukas shook Grace’s hand. Her gaze widened as their physic auras merged. Lukas controlled his response; his face remained devoid of expression. Jasmine frowned and touched her mother’s shoulder. With one last puzzled look at Lukas, she said,“I’ll show you to your rooms. Afternoon tea is at three. The conservatory is at the back. You’ll have an opportunity to meet the other guests there.”

Lukas smiled. He sensed her interest and strength. They’d met once, years before. She owed him, and he needed her help now.

Fleur unpacked her bags in her shabby-chic room. Her mind strayed to Lukas’ surprising effect on her. Vivid recollections of his strong embrace and the hardness of his muscular body bombarded her. She splashed cold water on her face in an attempt to cool the burn from her inner heat. Why did she crave this man’s touch? Intimate images danced through her confused mind. She sprayed perfume on her heated skin. Nothing in her life prepared her for this tangle of conflicted emotions.

Perhaps she’d hidden away too long? She needed excitement. Her ex-lover didn’t understand her grief after the premature deaths of her much-loved parents. Instead, he chipped away at her self-esteem. Lukas saw through her layers of self-protection. He noticed her. The heat in his stare scorched her deep inside. She needed this man. She blushed at her wickedness. The alarm on her mobile sounded, almost three; time to go. She took a deep breath, determined to dampen her aroused state. With a final check of her appearance, she retrieved her bag and headed downstairs.

Fleur stood inside the conservatory until her eyes adjusted for the brightness. She walked further into the room and scanned the occupants for Lukas, but he wasn’t there. Disappointed, Fleur looked around the room. Jasmine’s companions drew her gaze. Something set the unusual men apart from the other people there. She saw a familiar face. Grace was deep in conversation with two of the older guests. She looked busy, so Fleur didn’t disturb her.

The designer-clad men recaptured her interest. The dark-haired man appeared fascinated with Jasmine. His face darkened as Jasmine interrupted his diatribe.

“You’ll have to excuse me. I need to welcome Fleur.”

Jasmine headed in her direction. Without Jasmine’s vivacity, the conversation between the two high-powered men lapsed into silence. The younger man looked bored and distracted. The delicate rose- patterned china tea cup appeared awkward in his large strong-boned hands. He ran his long fingers through his shaggy, platinum blond, almost silver, hair. It masked the paleness of his silver-colored eyes. He looked handsome. Fleur waited to see if her heart flipped. It didn’t. Her stomach lurched at the implications of her discovery. Her attraction to Lukas was based on something deeper than eye candy.



Buy Links:   Amazon 

Writer, Blogger, Book Reviewer.

As a child I had a complete stable of make believe horses and my imagination remains as vivid. Now it creates characters and scenarios which provide the inspiration for my stories.

I am so excited to finally have career as a writer. My love affair with the written word started as a teenager. I secretly dreamed of writing the romantic novels I loved to read. Life had other plans for me. Marriage at twenty-one whilst still at university launched me into a career in health service management. I often thought about writing in my spare time but my career and two wonderful children kept me occupied 24/7. Illness forced an abrupt end to my career. Always the optimist I seized the opportunity to write full time in 2012.

The Dragon Legacy is my first published novel and I am excited to be sharing it with a wider audience.When I'm not writing I enjoy reading, book reviewing, blogging, social media and walking in the countryside. Passionate about animal welfare.

Author Links: Website    Facebook Page       Twitter

Free on Smashwords: Vows by Tamaria Soana

Addison Klein’s marriage is falling apart. She’s contemplating whether she should fight to keep her family together or walk away. After the sudden death of her best friend, Peyton, and a vicious fight with her husband, Tyler, Addison knows she needs to decide what the future holds.

Just when Addison feels she's alone in making this life altering decision, she gets a little guidance from her guardian angel and rediscovers herself.  After some soul searching she realizes the vows she said on her wedding day meant something to her... for as long as we both shall live. 

With a new outlook on life Addison sets a plan in motion to seduce her husband.

 Warning: adult language

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Tamaria Soana is middle aged, but just feels her life has begun. She writes sexy contemporary romance stories that always end with a ‘happily ever after’. Growing up she loved to read and make up new places in her head to escape to. In her late teens she began writing short stories and poetry; it wasn’t until her late thirties before she began to spin a full story. She’s married and a stay-at-home-mom of two beautiful young girls, they reside in Western New York. Cuddling up with a good book under an electric throw is her way to escape the cold Buffalo nights. Besides writing, she co-owns Shades of Rose Marketing and hosts a talk show on Talkshoe called Live with Tamaria ~ Giving authors a voice.

Author Links:    Site     Facebook Author Page     Twitter

See Me by Natalie-Nicole Bates

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Carly Anders  is hearing voices in her head. Another one of her kind is trying to contact her. She knows of the malevolent freaks—others who are eternal like her and seek out the weak to inflict pain upon. For years, Carly has held up huge protective walls to keep herself and her secrets safe. Now, physically and mentally exhausted, Carly needs protection and rest.

She accepts the invitation to visit an internet friend who needs help appraising a collection of antique photographs.  The situation is not ideal, but Carly hopes a male presence in her life will deter the determined suitor who haunts her thoughts and dreams.

Daniel Tremont is not what Carly is expecting.

The former funeral director has a secret of his own. Not only is he eternal like Carly, he is her creation from all those years before—her abomination she thought she killed.

Daniel has been searching for Carly for years. He knows she is the piece of his life that he has been missing for so long. Now that he has found her, he has no intentions of letting her go. 

Excerpt:

     He waved a hand in front of her face, but she didn’t blink. The lights are on, but no one’s home.

     “Carly, my angel,” he whispered and cupped her cheek into his palm. He revealed in the silkiness and warmth of her skin. Still, she didn’t react. She was almost…a zombie.

     His own body jerked in reaction to the fear she was emanating. She was clearly sleepwalking and in the throes of one hell of a nightmare, yet she didn’t cry out any longer. It was all now playing out inside her mind.

     “Charlotte, see me,” he implored.

     Her lips twitched at the mention of her real name.

     “See me,” he repeated.

     Suddenly, her body gave way and she collapsed. Catching her, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. As he laid her down, her breathing became ragged. He placed a hand over her heart as it raced, and passed healing calmness through his hand, feeling the energy pulsate against her skin. Beneath his hand, he would feel her heartbeat slow to a normal rhythm.

     “Daniel?” Her voice was mere caress.

     “I’m here, my angel. You’re having a nightmare. You’re frightened. It’s okay now, I’m here, and I will never leave you,” he promised.

     “Everyone leaves, Daniel. You can’t understand, you can’t…” Her body started to tremble.

     He climbed onto the bed and straddled her body. Leaning close to her face, he said, “Carly, let go of your fear. I can take it. Let go and see me,” he commanded.

     Her breath came out in a whoosh, and a wall of fear and resistance hit him like a blow from above. It wasn’t exactly painful, more startling than anything else.

     His vision flip-flopped, and he could see an image from inside her mind of two souls forever entwined as the result of one act. It made perfect sense. She was reliving the day their souls became one. The day of the fire.

     He then saw black, suffocating water. She was reliving her own death, as well.

     As the visions left him, he was consumed with the mishmash of fear, loneliness, and resistance within her.

     He had to make her understand that it was over. “I will never leave you, Carly. That is my promise to you,” he insisted.

     A flicker of life ignited in her eyes. Her hands came up to his face, and to Daniel’s surprise, tears bubbled from his own eyes. He was releasing the pain and fear he had absorbed from his beloved.

     “I’m so sorry, Daniel, so sorry,” she murmured.

     “There’s nothing to be sorry for, my love. It’s over. It’s time to move forward now.”

     “You don’t understand what I am, Daniel.”

     “I do understand, Carly. I am what you are. See me for what I am.”

     In his mind, he could see the moving clockwork gears of her thoughts once again as she tried to process what he was telling her to be true.

     “Just accept it, and let’s move forward.”

     She drew his face to hers and her lips parted beneath his. Time blurred and he drank in the essence of his Carly. Her soft, barely covered curves molded themselves against his the hard planes of his body. Her hands were under his t-shirt, her fingers stroking him.

     If he pressed on, he knew she wouldn’t refuse him. But in her vulnerable state, he wouldn’t let anything progress further that night. Carly needed time to process everything that happened. There was plenty of time to pursue a physical relationship. They weren’t going any where…he hoped.

Buy Links:   Leap of Faith Publishing     Amazon      Barnes & Noble 

Natalie-Nicole Bates is a book reviewer and author.

Her passions in life include books and hockey along with Victorian and Edwardian era photography and antique poison bottles. Natalie contributes her uncharacteristic love of hockey to being born in Russia.

She currently resides in the UK where she is working on her next book and adding to her collection of 19^th century post-mortem photos.

 Author links:    Site      Facebook        Twitter 

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The Dragons of Winter by P.A. Brown

Genre: M/M  Paranormal Sci-Fi

Ciburon is poised to bond with Alecca, his predestined mate and ascend as sovereign crown of Xyamaira. But he has rivals who seek to supplant his rule. If they can prevent Ciburon from successfully teaching Alecca in the ways of his people, the dragonshifters, and mate according to custom, he will forfeit his kingdom and face exile or death.

Kytam, a powerful white dragonshifter mated to blue Tamhrin seeks to prevent Ciburon's success by any means necessary, including trickery and betrayal.







Excerpt:

The last dregs of Xyamaira’s pale winter sun left its golden rays on the slopes above Kalec’s Keep. When Tlalon, Radynne’s housemate, threw open the heavy curtains to let the early morning sun into Alecca’s room, he rolled away from the bolt of pain in his head and groaned.

The sound earned him a sharp slap on his bare ass.

“Go away,” he muttered from under his down pillow. When that was dragged away, he threw himself on his back and glared at his mother’s lover. “You’re back.”
“Yes, I’m back and your mother sent me to tell you it’s time to get up.” Tlalon’s voice grew silky. “Ciburon will be here in less than six hours. You want to be ready for him, don’t you?”

“Six hours? Ban’don! Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” Alecca cursed and bolted upright, grabbing his temples at the pain that shot through his head. Sharp stones pressed against his skull, pushing his eyes out of their sockets. His mouth tasted like the bottom of a dung pit.

“That’s why, Lex,” Tlalon said dryly. “Too much wine last night. You should have listened to your mother and gone to bed at a civilized hour instead of playing dice half the night.”

Alecca grunted and Tlalon laughed.

"Aye, Stone Island wine goes down smooth as honey, but it has spines in it when it gets into your head the next mornin'.”

Alecca knew the man was right, but he didn’t feel like being lectured. Not today. He stood, blinking and swaying on the cold stone floor. Curling his toes away from the chill, he followed Tlalon obediently through the short corridor to the bath house. The bath was already full of others. Some looked as bad as he felt. He caught Daigon’s eye and grimaced. Daigon had matched him drink for drink last night around the dying fire, after everyone else had grown a brain and gone to bed. This morning they were both paying for that indulgence.

Alecca would have liked nothing better than to crawl back into bed, even as he knew that refuge was no longer his. After today, he would be leaving his childhood home for good. Either at Ciburon’s side as his mate or in servitude as a neutered geld or guard.

Or dead.

Buy Link : Amazon

Born in Canada Pat doesn’t remember a time she didn’t want to write. It runs in the family you might say - her great uncle John Defoe was the renowned editor-in-chief of the Winnipeg Free Press pre WWII. Pat Brown's approach to life was tempered in the forges of Los Angeles and after eight years in the City of Angels she was endowed with a fascination for the gritty side of life. She explores those worlds in her various stories. Dragons of Winter is her latest.

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