tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58588289698748558142024-03-18T03:00:32.476-04:00Here be MagicWe're a group of authors who love to write stories that are fantastical in nature, from the paranormal to science fiction romance to fantasy and all stops in between. Welcome to our virtual tavern! Do you prefer mead, ale or absynthe?Jody W. and Meankittyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13733607365443126784noreply@blogger.comBlogger2749125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-27397565736522077262024-03-18T03:00:00.011-04:002024-03-18T03:00:00.248-04:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday March 18, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday March 18, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/03/reasons-to-enjoy-fairy-tale-retellings.html" target="_blank"><br /></a></b></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/03/reasons-to-enjoy-fairy-tale-retellings.html" target="_blank">Thursday March 14, 2023</a></b></i>: Deborah Bailey explores some of the many <b>Reasons to Enjoy Fairy Tale Retellings</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-54390620810999624302024-03-14T07:30:00.001-04:002024-03-14T07:30:00.275-04:00Reasons to Enjoy Fairy Tale Retellings<p> <span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Fairy tales (and retellings) have a strong appeal. And, for
me there are many reasons why they’re my favorite type of story.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Life Lessons: Fairy tales often contain valuable life
lessons and morals that can be applied to various situations in real life.
Perhaps that’s why children and adults can enjoy them. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Magical Settings: These stories transport readers to
enchanting and whimsical worlds filled with mystical creatures and fantastical
landscapes. There’s nothing like being whisked away to a land where anything is
possible. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Universal Appeal: These tales transcend cultural
boundaries, resonating with people from diverse backgrounds across the globe.
There are versions of popular fairy tales and folk tales that have been told in
just about every culture and country. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Symbolism: Many elements in fairy tales are symbolic,
offering deeper meanings and insights into human nature. </span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Happy Endings: The promise of a happy ending is comforting
in a world where life can be so unpredictable. A HEA makes things so much
better. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Inspiration: These tales inspire creativity, which is why
retellings are so popular. You can create so many new stories from established
ones. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Royalty: Not to say that every fairy tale has a royal
family, but it’s always nice to have a Prince (or Princess) Charming show up at
some point. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Fairy Tales are for Children and Adults: Fairy tales are
popular books to read to children, but adults love them too. (As I’ve mentioned
above!)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They can have different Meanings: When I was researching
fairy tales for my novellas, I was surprised to learn the origins of Beauty and
the Beast. One version was written in France in the 1700's and was said to
reflect the anxieties of young women who might not know what to expect in marriage.
Would their betrothed be a beast or a charming hero? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Transformation: Usually, characters will have a
transformation of some kind, as when the beast becomes a man, or the heroine
transforms from mermaid to human. And who doesn’t enjoy a good story of
transformation? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Deborah A Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07436982612393661540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-7180398543349087782024-03-04T03:00:00.016-05:002024-03-04T03:00:00.148-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday March 4, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday March 4, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="https://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/02/dark-hours-fantasy-romance-by-linda.html" target="_blank">Tuesday February 27, 2024</a></b></i>: Linda Mooney gives us another glimpse of her Fantasy Romance, <b>Dark Hours</b>. Read Chapter Two here:</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.52); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.52); font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><a href="https://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/02/dark-hours-fantasy-romance-by-linda.html">https://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/02/dark-hours-fantasy-romance-by-linda.html</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-24187247808949227062024-02-27T04:21:00.036-05:002024-03-02T10:40:22.896-05:00DARK HOURS, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 2<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghXO3z2g-CdkEBvFdL9XLagY3iYpn_At0ZyhvJWyOh-dx0CQ-kr7Rb3pSoWkcCQeDOAeSonT18JUdFlY1IPa-yEc3IrQtECuihMuaR61VfSgWFqHTJk8Llm-QiTd77feCYtuz95dwBrok7_z5YGwm4c_XDn1ZVF5CAfC0X5tkfe2iwVp2r2JgcbR862jRl/s1342/2February3edf83b3e6330ac58bcf.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1342" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghXO3z2g-CdkEBvFdL9XLagY3iYpn_At0ZyhvJWyOh-dx0CQ-kr7Rb3pSoWkcCQeDOAeSonT18JUdFlY1IPa-yEc3IrQtECuihMuaR61VfSgWFqHTJk8Llm-QiTd77feCYtuz95dwBrok7_z5YGwm4c_XDn1ZVF5CAfC0X5tkfe2iwVp2r2JgcbR862jRl/s320/2February3edf83b3e6330ac58bcf.jpg" width="258" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Chapter 2<br /></span></b><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The dungeon was
hushed, even more than usual for this hour of the night. In the dead of winter
no one who wasn’t a prisoner spent any more time in these frigid rooms than was
necessary. Which made the old priest’s penance very solitary.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The frost
permeated the stones until it melded to the skin of his cheek. Matthias moved
his legs slightly to keep his knees from sticking to the rock, but the simple
gesture seemed as futile as his reason for kneeling before the makeshift altar
he’d created.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It was bitterly
cold, yet the priest felt he was due the discomfort. And more. The agony
seeping through his old muscles and bones could not begin to match the guilt
which filled him like poison.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Forgive me,
Lord, for the damage I have brought upon that man and woman. Forgive me.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">How long had he
been praying there? An hour? Two hours? Matthias groaned as a sharp pain knifed
through his back. He could kneel here a hundred hours and it wouldn’t be
enough. He could castigate himself again and again in penance and it would
never suffice. All feeling in his outer extremities had been lost.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Have pity on
this foolish man,” he continued, eyes tightly shut. “Receive my sins and cast
them away. Guide me, help me, Heavenly Father, for I have committed a most
regrettable act.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He should have
known better. Matthias was all too aware of his mistake now. But even with such
clarity of hindsight, there’s no way he could have foreseen what events would
take place, or what results would have occurred. He had done what he was
allowed to do—bring two people together in holy matrimony. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>And for that,
he’d been cursed with lifelong torment.</i><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Oh, God. My
loving God.” The old priest shifted his knees against the stone floor, shifting
off his toes and lowering his legs in order to seat his buttocks along his
calves. There was a wetness along his face, and he realized it was from his own
tears. The tears quickly cooled into stiff scabs of ice.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">To everything
there was a reason. For every sin committed, there was the consequence. God had
chosen Matthias for a special purpose, although the priest prayed it would soon
be over.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">But how could
something as diabolical as what the witch had done ever be “over”? How could it
ever be made “right” again? Two people had been condemned for life by the
blackest power ever revealed, and Matthias…Matthias was the direct cause of it.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“I am at thy
mercy, Heavenly Father.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He had never
meant for this horror to occur. He had never intended for such misery to be
inflicted. Yes, Matthias knew Gola had been found guilty of practicing
witchcraft by the church. What no one expected was the sheer power the woman
possessed because she worshiped the black arts as fervently and as devoutly as
Matthias worshipped the Trinity. No one anticipated the demons she summoned
from the earth to defeat the king and his soldiers. No one expected the
devastation she wrought in her need for vengeance. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Matthias
clenched his fists. His skin was so numb he couldn’t feel his nails pressing
into the flesh. “Have pity on this foolish man. I have created an ultimate sin.
If taking my life is what will atone for my mistakes, then take it, Father.
Take it. Take…it.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Shoulders shook
as the old man silently wept against the frigid stones. The warm tears
momentarily released the ice crystals adhered to his face.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He had been
privy to Emers’s confessions. She had made him her council and sought him out
at all hours to tell him about the man who had captured her heart.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“He is like
thunder, Father,” she’d said with the sun shining from her eyes. “You should
see him at practice with his blade.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Like
thunder, eh, child?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>“His arm is
stronger than his courage. All his men respect him.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">That was the
truth. Under Kayge d’Bayar’s command, his men were considered to be the prime defensive
force of the castle. The king’s right arm. Hence their positions were elevated
to become part of the king’s own private guards. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Kayge’s
obedience and dedication to his liege was unparalleled, which was why, after
Gola had destroyed Estephan and his whole family, when she’d tried to bring the
centurion into her fold, he’d shunned her. Fought her. And thusly, was cursed
by her.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">What followed
was shocking. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">No, not
shocking. Unconscionable. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">If only he’d
been forewarned. If only he’d known what would result from his carelessness.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“If horses had
wings and if trees could talk,” Matthias muttered with a little half-sob
choking him as he <i>remembered</i>…</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">
* * *</span></b><b style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">There was no way
of knowing when the witch had first seen Kayge. But everyone in the town and in
the surrounding kingdom knew of him. Knew how bravely the man fought and
defended his king and country with a phalanx of swords at his command. It
wasn’t until the evil woman had been caught and sentenced that she realized she
was in trouble. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It was rumored
she had tried to sway Kayge to be more lenient with her. To allow his men to give
her water when she thirsted. A bite of bread when she hungered. Kayge ordered
his men to ignore her, making her more angry with him. It was while she wasted
away inside the dungeon, awaiting her final sentencing, that she began making
plans to escape. What no one suspected was that, although she’d take her anger
out on the king, her vengeance would come down on the centurion. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">As she planned,
plotted, and began drawing forth the demons from the farthest depths of Hell,
Gola kept her attention on Kayge. On the man who showed her no mercy. The king
she’d already written off. Estephan and his family were doomed. They would be quickly
exterminated. However, she wanted to take a great, perverse joy in making Kayge
suffer in the worst way possible. Make him suffer the way he’d let her suffer. All
she needed was to find that way. That reason. That target. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It came in the
form of Emers Ammin.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It was no secret
when the centurion first spied Emers. It was on a bright and impossibly warm
spring Sunday when the lithe, young woman entered the chapel. She was an
orphan, raised by the Sisters of Perpetual Sorrow until she reached her
eighteenth year. At that time she’d left the convent, not wanting to take the
vows, and came to Noranye to live with her only remaining relative, her
father’s brother’s son, and his family. It was with the family that she
attended her first mass in her new home, and it was then Kayge saw her for the
first time.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">At that moment
the man’s heart was set. At that moment, with the pre-Lenten sun pouring over
her and turning her gold hair into a halo of bright fire, the soldier,
considered strong and unyielding, yielded.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It was fortuitous
that the d’Valani family lived in Matthias’ parish. He saw Emers regularly when
the family came to worship. It was to him Emers made her confessions to. Thus,
it was Matthias who suddenly and curiously became Gola’s primary source of
information. He had no knowledge that the witch had discovered a possible
weakness in the centurion and needed the priest to corroborate what she’d
learned.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Matthias never
questioned why the witch had become infatuated with the members of his parish
when he went on his visits to try to convert her. Nor why he was prodded with
increasing regularity about the comings and goings and dealings with the girl
cousin. Despite the rumors he’d heard about the witch, Matthias tried to
perform his duties as best he could. He was there to save her soul. He was only
doing what the king had ordered him to do. Which was why he felt he’d be able
to accomplish that by attempting to befriend her. Answer her questions. Be open
and frank with the woman.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The days became a
week, then a month. Spring melted under the summer sky. Matthias continued his
daily excursions to convince Gola to denounce her sinful ways as she was kept
captive. Despite her stubbornness, he refused to admit defeat. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In the meantime,
it was inevitable that Kayge d’Bayar would see, would meet, and would speak to
Emers Ammin. How could he not fall in love with her as well as nearly every
other man had? Matthias knew. He was also confessor to every soldier within his
parish. As such, it did not surprise him when the centurion finally knelt
inside the confessional and opened his heart to the priest.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“I caused a
great evil,” Matthias whispered. He couldn’t stop the memories pounding in his
head. It was as if the Lord was personally resurrecting each one to show the
old man the error of his ways.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Once Emers had
confided to Matthias how saddened she was that the centurion never took notice
of her, at how he deliberately seemed to avoid her, Matthias knew he had to do
something. He couldn’t stand to watch the young couple grow more distant when
their hearts were trying to forge a bond, so he played matchmaker. He had Emers
come to the church to help him with a task regarding mending a tapestry.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“I asked a
couple of the sisters if they could fix it, but they all recommended you. They
said your fingers were the most nimble, the most agile,” he informed her. Emers
had blushed, reluctant to admit she excelled in that particular skill taught to
her back at the convent. She was eager to do what she could.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It had taken her
several hours to make the repairs. By the time she finished, night had fallen.
Thus Matthias called for Kayge to escort the young woman to her home to ensure
her safety.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">As he watched
from an upper window, at the young woman riding in front of the centurion atop
the same stallion, Matthias knew his interference had worked. Pleased with
himself, the priest went to say his evening prayers, and added one more to
insure the couple a long and loving relationship.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He had no
foreshadowing of the misery he would cause to befall the two, nor of the
horrendous curse they’d be subjected to.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">TO BE CONTINUED<br /><br /><a href="https://lindamooney.com/">Linda's Website</a></span></b></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-29269295264113425872024-02-26T03:00:00.013-05:002024-02-26T03:00:00.130-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday February 26, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday February 26, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/02/traps-writers-should-watch-out-for.html" target="_blank">Tuesday February 20, 2024</a></i></b>: Deborah Bailey offers some suggestions for completing our books in her pos, Traps Writers Should Watch Out For</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-61753807900031063492024-02-20T07:00:00.001-05:002024-02-20T07:00:00.272-05:00Traps Writers Should Watch Out For<p> <span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Even if we have the best intentions for getting our books
completed, there are traps that can undermine our plans.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One pitfall is the fear of failure. It can lead to
self-doubt and procrastination and stall the writing process. Another trap is
perfectionism, where we can waste time trying to create the perfect story or
perfect sentence. It's important to remember that writing is a process – that’s
what drafts are for! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Another trap is imposter syndrome, where we doubt our own
abilities. This can be especially challenging for writers who are just starting
out. But it’s something that even experienced writers can stress about. It's
important for us to remember that everyone starts out with no experience (and
no published books or stories). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One last trap is when we compare ourselves to others. There
will always be someone who seems to have it all together, or someone who has more success. In the end we have to focus on our
own writing journey instead of questioning why we aren’t following the same
path as others.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some days will be better than others. Some projects will be easier while others will be much more challenging. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">No matter what stage you’re at in your career, don’t let these traps get in your way. Keep going and enjoy the process.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Deborah A Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07436982612393661540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-18230364977613099622024-02-19T03:00:00.013-05:002024-02-19T03:00:00.218-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday February 19, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday February 19, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/02/new-release-from-pg-forte-put-ring.html" target="_blank"><br /></a></i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/02/new-release-from-pg-forte-put-ring.html" target="_blank">Tuesday February 13, 2024</a></i></b>: PG Forte talks about her NEW RELEASE, <b>Put a Ring Around the Rosie</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZfV8dlQXeHptveaODPgNU9DMiRnu3CQQ0Y_3FjA4Kjeb3z1T6qRQTBcujfCj4r2onUDbtJF24L6NB8gZEqEZk6WfJIjm9ycdz9Q69QavvVraQOPFZd3TWOdFtu9CpMLtfRsCgoGGYR839hJzBNSAMZ8wk82F2Glpq_4ttWw56iDMqwl_5T5fQYtKVzo5/s320/BACKLIST.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZfV8dlQXeHptveaODPgNU9DMiRnu3CQQ0Y_3FjA4Kjeb3z1T6qRQTBcujfCj4r2onUDbtJF24L6NB8gZEqEZk6WfJIjm9ycdz9Q69QavvVraQOPFZd3TWOdFtu9CpMLtfRsCgoGGYR839hJzBNSAMZ8wk82F2Glpq_4ttWw56iDMqwl_5T5fQYtKVzo5/s1600/BACKLIST.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div><p>The <i>Once Upon A Princess </i>stories came to me in excerpts. Bits and pieces of the story ideas came to me but I didn't know what to do with them. Finally after a lot of drafts I figured out what the stories would be about for <i>Heart of Stone</i> and <i>Beauty & the Faun</i>. They both have Beauty & the Beast as an influence, and Cinderella too. <i>Land of Dreams</i> came later and was inspired by a friend of mine (also a book blogger and reviewer) who really liked the hero from <i>Heart of Stone</i>. So he got his own story. </p><p>Two of the books are on sale for the month of February. Read about them below!</p><p> Formula for Fairy Tale Love: 1 Adventurous Heroine + 1 Tortured-But-Noble Hero = Happily-Ever-After</p><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nBM2GKlLRNWVWiqA38DmH6ciJp7Q4nMhEV2GXQQ5UntZeYI8UZJNpc0GZIZ9PtI1pLr92wm75TZcSRVSp_Wq3CHJrrTxioiJ0IcLWYchWKwK_zdHYzwwjW5qWgAYAloD4OQx4udnRbaAlC2n0C0pZSiIryvFw2ZbDIrVOtkt_clRJY2zy7Cyh2BfPVY/s2500/DB%20Heart%20of%20Stone.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1667" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nBM2GKlLRNWVWiqA38DmH6ciJp7Q4nMhEV2GXQQ5UntZeYI8UZJNpc0GZIZ9PtI1pLr92wm75TZcSRVSp_Wq3CHJrrTxioiJ0IcLWYchWKwK_zdHYzwwjW5qWgAYAloD4OQx4udnRbaAlC2n0C0pZSiIryvFw2ZbDIrVOtkt_clRJY2zy7Cyh2BfPVY/w213-h320/DB%20Heart%20of%20Stone.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />"Heart of Stone:" Leesa trespasses into a haunted palace, where she meets a lonely gargoyle. Breaking the spell that cursed him may carry a price steeper than she's able…or willing…to pay.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><b>On sale for 99 cents until Feb. 29th at Amazon, B&N, Apple & Kobo.</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Buy link: </b><a href="https://books2read.com/u/bP5dLJ" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="background-color: white; color: #595fa0; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">https://books2read.com/u/bP5dLJ</a></div><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; page-break-after: avoid;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><b>Read an excerpt:</b></span></p><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif">Leesa headed up the stairs and stopped at the 2nd floor landing. Eduardo and Erokan's rooms had been on this floor. Dust was everywhere, but otherwise the furnishings were just as they'd been left. Varmont's bedroom, private study and library were on the 3rd floor. Most likely he would've hidden some of his valuables there. She went upstairs to check. The doors to the Duke's room, study and library were open. But the fourth door was closed. The treasure room, perhaps? </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif">She opened the door and stepped inside. Strangely, this room wasn't as dusty as the others. </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif">The air was heavy with perfume. Across from the door was a folding screen decorated with blue and yellow flowers. Behind it she could make out the base of a claw-foot tub. </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif">To her surprise, the entire room had a feminine feeling, from the huge bed covered with blush pink coverlets and plush furs to the gold-trimmed white furniture. Even the jewel-encrusted skylight above her had its own beauty, reflecting colorful sprinkles of light over the pale stone walls. </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif">A white cabinet with glass doors caught her attention. The shelves held glass bottles of different shapes and sizes. Some had liquids inside, others were empty. What were these? Perfumes? Or maybe potions. </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif">The Duke used magic. Maybe this was where he'd kept his enchantments. Would they be worth anything? Possibly. But just as Leesa reached out to open the cabinet, the door slammed behind her. </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif">Startled, she spun around. She was alone. Who had closed it? Leesa ran to the door and gripped the handle, expecting the door to open as easily as it had when she'd come in. But it didn't. She pulled and banged on it, but it wouldn't budge.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; page-break-after: avoid;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefBFwOz3ZP38qzZUz-_7WPSfqIzYqRRnnGD3THGShctcoxfIOv2Q5CSzPUuZoVqqo851J3NGaCfA_UQ16JK8IdfwZCjMSFM0tYs4wtBxGohCd4-rSzDC003XQm6r5vbC-pKOoOYdV57U2ichd14T3IJVhds0SPlCckZWMrRwtg_fTL5hrqGgaFPP8aNE/s2500/DB%20beauty_and_faun.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1667" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefBFwOz3ZP38qzZUz-_7WPSfqIzYqRRnnGD3THGShctcoxfIOv2Q5CSzPUuZoVqqo851J3NGaCfA_UQ16JK8IdfwZCjMSFM0tYs4wtBxGohCd4-rSzDC003XQm6r5vbC-pKOoOYdV57U2ichd14T3IJVhds0SPlCckZWMrRwtg_fTL5hrqGgaFPP8aNE/s320/DB%20beauty_and_faun.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />"Beauty & the Faun<b>:" </b><span face="Arial, sans-serif">Kayla flees an arranged marriage and falls
for a faun shifter instead. But how can she ignore her duty by refusing to
marry a prince?<o:p></o:p></span><p></p></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>On sale for 99 cents until Feb. 29th at Amazon, B&N, Apple & Kobo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Buy link: </b><a href="https://books2read.com/u/47ZqV7" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="background-color: white; color: #595fa0; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">https://books2read.com/u/47ZqV7</a></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Read an excerpt:</b></div><div><br /></div><div><p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">Kayla leaned against the
tree, her legs drawn up. A flash of memory from her childhood came to her,
reminding her that she'd once had days like this back when her father was
alive. The forest had been home then, with the three of them in their small
house on the edge of the woods.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"Del, I've never met
anyone like you," she said. "I haven't had a chance to have fun since
my mother and I lived in the forest. I'm always working."</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"You lived in the
forest?" he asked.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"When my father was
alive. But when he got sick and died, my mother and I moved in with my uncle
and aunt."</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"That's too bad,"
Del said. "You must miss him."</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"I do. Do your parents
live in the forest?"</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"No. They live in a big
house. I live there too, sometimes. But I love it out here. I feel free. The
forest folk are very open and welcoming."</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"Are there fairies here
too?" Her father had talked about them, and how nice they were.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"Of course." Del
yawned. "They're a lot of fun."</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"Like satyrs?" she
asked. She did want to know more about them.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">He chuckled. "Not quite.
Satyrs are always wanting to drink and have fun, but you have to watch them.
They get too drunk and then, everybody's fighting. And they cheat at
cards."</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">Kayla giggled. "Cards?
They play cards? You're kidding." She couldn’t imagine the two who tried
to kidnap her sitting at a card table.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"Sure they do." Del
sat up and stretched. "They do everything humans do, just wilder and
louder." He took a last bite of his apple, then threw the core aside.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">Wild. That’s what Lady Agnes
said her husband-to-be was. Wild. Maybe he was a satyr. Kayla suddenly felt
queasy. What would she do if he shifted into one of those? Scream? Run away?
What was she going to do?</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"Del, I don't know what
to do. If I go back, they'll marry me off." Going to town to find work
seemed like a ridiculous idea now. As soon as her uncle found out, he'd come
and force her back to his house.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"It's your choice,
Kayla."</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">"But my mother can't
stay at the house when I'm gone. She deserves a place of her own. My aunt has
her there sewing her gowns. It should be the other way around."</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">He sighed, then ran his
fingers through his curly hair. "We'll figure it out. I wish you could
stay here with me."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif">Read more about the books here: </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><a href="https://authordebbailey.com/paranormal-romance/">https://authordebbailey.com/paranormal-romance/</a></span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpLast" style="text-align: left;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72pBY4zN8qXJbGuwki2mYaIt5JOH2b6Y4GHkWOl8UQe0Sjnij5AbJEK08AfH9WR3pZyh_25x-XEhrkIZ8ApC4doRxnHXdvJ8uEkRldAnj0eedUoP2FrxAi9Ismdh2cxUjCuGTa0NgQyv4cbfwYPVZV8WnDoRghXnjn3vQbIOHyHvoDUL-yh5Mci7YrEo/s1050/0%20once%20upon%20a%20princess%20trilogy%20teaser%201.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="covers of the once upon a princess series" border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1050" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72pBY4zN8qXJbGuwki2mYaIt5JOH2b6Y4GHkWOl8UQe0Sjnij5AbJEK08AfH9WR3pZyh_25x-XEhrkIZ8ApC4doRxnHXdvJ8uEkRldAnj0eedUoP2FrxAi9Ismdh2cxUjCuGTa0NgQyv4cbfwYPVZV8WnDoRghXnjn3vQbIOHyHvoDUL-yh5Mci7YrEo/w320-h213/0%20once%20upon%20a%20princess%20trilogy%20teaser%201.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><br /></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-32362127331843362892024-02-17T07:30:00.001-05:002024-02-17T07:30:00.151-05:00Bring it Back(list) - Once Upon A Princess Series<p>The <i>Once Upon A Princess </i>stories came to me in excerpts. Bits and pieces of the story ideas came to me but I didn't know what to do with them. Finally after a lot of drafts I figured out what the stories would be about for <i>Heart of Stone</i> and <i>Beauty & the Faun</i>. They both have Beauty & the Beast as an influence, and Cinderella too. <i>Land of Dreams</i> came later and was inspired by a friend of mine (also a book blogger and reviewer) who really liked the hero from <i>Heart of Stone</i>. So he got his own story. </p><p>Two of the books are on sale for the month of February. Read about them below!</p><p> Formula for Fairy Tale Love: 1 Adventurous Heroine + 1 Tortured-But-Noble Hero = Happily-Ever-After</p><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nBM2GKlLRNWVWiqA38DmH6ciJp7Q4nMhEV2GXQQ5UntZeYI8UZJNpc0GZIZ9PtI1pLr92wm75TZcSRVSp_Wq3CHJrrTxioiJ0IcLWYchWKwK_zdHYzwwjW5qWgAYAloD4OQx4udnRbaAlC2n0C0pZSiIryvFw2ZbDIrVOtkt_clRJY2zy7Cyh2BfPVY/s2500/DB%20Heart%20of%20Stone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1667" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nBM2GKlLRNWVWiqA38DmH6ciJp7Q4nMhEV2GXQQ5UntZeYI8UZJNpc0GZIZ9PtI1pLr92wm75TZcSRVSp_Wq3CHJrrTxioiJ0IcLWYchWKwK_zdHYzwwjW5qWgAYAloD4OQx4udnRbaAlC2n0C0pZSiIryvFw2ZbDIrVOtkt_clRJY2zy7Cyh2BfPVY/w213-h320/DB%20Heart%20of%20Stone.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />"Heart of Stone:" Leesa trespasses into a haunted palace, where she meets a lonely gargoyle. Breaking the spell that cursed him may carry a price steeper than she's able…or willing…to pay.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><b>On sale for 99 cents until Feb. 29th at Amazon, B&N, Apple & Kobo.</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Buy link: </b><a href="https://books2read.com/u/bP5dLJ" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="background-color: white; color: #595fa0; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">https://books2read.com/u/bP5dLJ</a></div><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b>Read an excerpt:</b></span></p><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Leesa headed up the stairs and stopped at the 2nd floor landing. Eduardo and Erokan's rooms had been on this floor. Dust was everywhere, but otherwise the furnishings were just as they'd been left. Varmont's bedroom, private study and library were on the 3rd floor. Most likely he would've hidden some of his valuables there. She went upstairs to check. The doors to the Duke's room, study and library were open. But the fourth door was closed. The treasure room, perhaps? </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">She opened the door and stepped inside. Strangely, this room wasn't as dusty as the others. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The air was heavy with perfume. Across from the door was a folding screen decorated with blue and yellow flowers. Behind it she could make out the base of a claw-foot tub. </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">To her surprise, the entire room had a feminine feeling, from the huge bed covered with blush pink coverlets and plush furs to the gold-trimmed white furniture. Even the jewel-encrusted skylight above her had its own beauty, reflecting colorful sprinkles of light over the pale stone walls. </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">A white cabinet with glass doors caught her attention. The shelves held glass bottles of different shapes and sizes. Some had liquids inside, others were empty. What were these? Perfumes? Or maybe potions. </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The Duke used magic. Maybe this was where he'd kept his enchantments. Would they be worth anything? Possibly. But just as Leesa reached out to open the cabinet, the door slammed behind her. </span></div><div style="break-after: avoid; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Startled, she spun around. She was alone. Who had closed it? Leesa ran to the door and gripped the handle, expecting the door to open as easily as it had when she'd come in. But it didn't. She pulled and banged on it, but it wouldn't budge.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-pagination: none; page-break-after: avoid;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefBFwOz3ZP38qzZUz-_7WPSfqIzYqRRnnGD3THGShctcoxfIOv2Q5CSzPUuZoVqqo851J3NGaCfA_UQ16JK8IdfwZCjMSFM0tYs4wtBxGohCd4-rSzDC003XQm6r5vbC-pKOoOYdV57U2ichd14T3IJVhds0SPlCckZWMrRwtg_fTL5hrqGgaFPP8aNE/s2500/DB%20beauty_and_faun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1667" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiefBFwOz3ZP38qzZUz-_7WPSfqIzYqRRnnGD3THGShctcoxfIOv2Q5CSzPUuZoVqqo851J3NGaCfA_UQ16JK8IdfwZCjMSFM0tYs4wtBxGohCd4-rSzDC003XQm6r5vbC-pKOoOYdV57U2ichd14T3IJVhds0SPlCckZWMrRwtg_fTL5hrqGgaFPP8aNE/s320/DB%20beauty_and_faun.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />"Beauty & the Faun<b>:" </b><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Kayla flees an arranged marriage and falls
for a faun shifter instead. But how can she ignore her duty by refusing to
marry a prince?<o:p></o:p></span><p></p></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>On sale for 99 cents until Feb. 29th at Amazon, B&N, Apple & Kobo</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Buy link: </b><a href="https://books2read.com/u/47ZqV7" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="background-color: white; color: #595fa0; font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">https://books2read.com/u/47ZqV7</a></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Read an excerpt:</b></div><div><br /></div><div><p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Kayla leaned against the
tree, her legs drawn up. A flash of memory from her childhood came to her,
reminding her that she'd once had days like this back when her father was
alive. The forest had been home then, with the three of them in their small
house on the edge of the woods.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Del, I've never met
anyone like you," she said. "I haven't had a chance to have fun since
my mother and I lived in the forest. I'm always working."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"You lived in the
forest?" he asked.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"When my father was
alive. But when he got sick and died, my mother and I moved in with my uncle
and aunt."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"That's too bad,"
Del said. "You must miss him."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"I do. Do your parents
live in the forest?"</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"No. They live in a big
house. I live there too, sometimes. But I love it out here. I feel free. The
forest folk are very open and welcoming."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Are there fairies here
too?" Her father had talked about them, and how nice they were.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Of course." Del
yawned. "They're a lot of fun."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Like satyrs?" she
asked. She did want to know more about them.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">He chuckled. "Not quite.
Satyrs are always wanting to drink and have fun, but you have to watch them.
They get too drunk and then, everybody's fighting. And they cheat at
cards."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Kayla giggled. "Cards?
They play cards? You're kidding." She couldn’t imagine the two who tried
to kidnap her sitting at a card table.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Sure they do." Del
sat up and stretched. "They do everything humans do, just wilder and
louder." He took a last bite of his apple, then threw the core aside.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Wild. That’s what Lady Agnes
said her husband-to-be was. Wild. Maybe he was a satyr. Kayla suddenly felt
queasy. What would she do if he shifted into one of those? Scream? Run away?
What was she going to do?</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"Del, I don't know what
to do. If I go back, they'll marry me off." Going to town to find work
seemed like a ridiculous idea now. As soon as her uncle found out, he'd come
and force her back to his house.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"It's your choice,
Kayla."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">"But my mother can't
stay at the house when I'm gone. She deserves a place of her own. My aunt has
her there sewing her gowns. It should be the other way around."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-indent: 0in;"> </span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">He sighed, then ran his
fingers through his curly hair. "We'll figure it out. I wish you could
stay here with me."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Read more about the books here: </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://authordebbailey.com/paranormal-romance/">https://authordebbailey.com/paranormal-romance/</a></span></p>
<p align="left" class="BodyNormalCxSpLast" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72pBY4zN8qXJbGuwki2mYaIt5JOH2b6Y4GHkWOl8UQe0Sjnij5AbJEK08AfH9WR3pZyh_25x-XEhrkIZ8ApC4doRxnHXdvJ8uEkRldAnj0eedUoP2FrxAi9Ismdh2cxUjCuGTa0NgQyv4cbfwYPVZV8WnDoRghXnjn3vQbIOHyHvoDUL-yh5Mci7YrEo/s1050/0%20once%20upon%20a%20princess%20trilogy%20teaser%201.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="covers of the once upon a princess series" border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="1050" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72pBY4zN8qXJbGuwki2mYaIt5JOH2b6Y4GHkWOl8UQe0Sjnij5AbJEK08AfH9WR3pZyh_25x-XEhrkIZ8ApC4doRxnHXdvJ8uEkRldAnj0eedUoP2FrxAi9Ismdh2cxUjCuGTa0NgQyv4cbfwYPVZV8WnDoRghXnjn3vQbIOHyHvoDUL-yh5Mci7YrEo/w320-h213/0%20once%20upon%20a%20princess%20trilogy%20teaser%201.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><br /></div>Deborah A Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07436982612393661540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-40623463218506998352024-02-13T02:30:00.037-05:002024-02-13T02:30:00.242-05:00New Release from PG Forte: Put a Ring Around the Rosie<p> My new book <b>Put a Ring Around the Rosie</b> is out today! This very short and sweet story is only lightly paranormal (sad to say, because I do love the spooky stuff) but, as with all the books in the Atlas Beach/Games We Play universe, all roads lead back to the Wild Geese Inn with its cursed-slash-enchanted (depending on your point of view) stone, its interfering ghosts and a boggart that, sadly, does not make an appearance in this book. (Not to fear, he'll be back!)</p><p>This is the first book in the third Games We Play story collection, Whole Latte Love. I hope to have a second story out later this year. Fingers crossed!</p><h4 class="font_4 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 26px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; color: darkred; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW2zxT8txgRX5Et-o_OIx761tEZe3LNdLv4P_0VyGhDj-cnjKMPrnvsVQ7cGNsoav8EGYSo9VlIS1GHb6Nlt-cmQm-7e7_-nu6d_WO5N_rKrYTkd-oTL6HldtGN0gTtYGLGX3RpIf6PDvZkdGYJjCgJEETIVmZa3EWYApXnaExeXdQNbme5gUQfvbWPMm7/s2560/NEWEST_Ring_cloth.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1749" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW2zxT8txgRX5Et-o_OIx761tEZe3LNdLv4P_0VyGhDj-cnjKMPrnvsVQ7cGNsoav8EGYSo9VlIS1GHb6Nlt-cmQm-7e7_-nu6d_WO5N_rKrYTkd-oTL6HldtGN0gTtYGLGX3RpIf6PDvZkdGYJjCgJEETIVmZa3EWYApXnaExeXdQNbme5gUQfvbWPMm7/s320/NEWEST_Ring_cloth.png" width="219" /></a></div><br />Put a Ring Around the Rosie</span></h4><h4 class="font_4 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 26px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixGuard wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></h4><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://books2read.com/RingRosie">https://books2read.com/RingRosie</a></b></span></span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">February 14th is just another day...until it's not.</span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"> </p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">They say timing is everything, and that certainly has always been the case where Alex and I are concerned. We met nearly two years ago when he was hired to work at Cup of Joe, the coffee shop where I was already an old timer. It was lust at first sight, at least on my part, but I had a boyfriend then, and so did he. By the time we were both single and I’d worked out that he was bi, things between us had become complicated in so many other ways that it seemed much simpler and safer to just stay friends.</span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">We were work spouses for a while, and then we weren’t. And when we reconnected with each other last month it was after a prolonged period of hurt feelings and miscommunication during which we barely spoke to each other at all. </span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"> </p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Now, even though our friendship’s caught fire, so to speak, I feel like we’re both still recovering from that last, disconnected phase. Heaping a bunch of unrealistic expectations, or a need for chocolate hearts, plush toys, or rose colored anything on top of that seems like a little too much added pressure. </span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span class="wixGuard wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Read an excerpt <span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"><a class="wixui-rich-text__text" href="https://www.pgforte.com/rosie-excerpt" rel="noreferrer noopener" style="background: none; border: 0px; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></span></p>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-91388213614228161502024-02-12T12:32:00.000-05:002024-02-12T12:32:17.151-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday February 12, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday February 12, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><a href=" first published novel, Unlocking the Doors, which came out in 1988 from Scholastic Canada." target="_blank"><br /></a></i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><a href=" first published novel, Unlocking the Doors, which came out in 1988 from Scholastic Canada." target="_blank">Thursday February 8, 2024</a></i></b>: Nicole Luiken treats us to a Blast from the Past with this post about</span><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 17.6px;"> her </span><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 17.6px;">first published novel, <b>Unlocking the Doors.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 17.6px;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 17.6px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbdcajgl4pH30piscBs_fQI86KfTv1UC_94YQsuxfQiNx97Hhjq7Wuo8fMrT0Jfv9SjktGxZs451f5YAgTenGsF51XorHXzLKrWqbw4-8gN7UNZVeodwhr8bw5BLOvKHaUOTt5Au22omh8fDokQuyjPJH8q-hs53z0S8RqCrIIAH6flZz8yfWlz03LD18/s320/COMING_WEEK.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbdcajgl4pH30piscBs_fQI86KfTv1UC_94YQsuxfQiNx97Hhjq7Wuo8fMrT0Jfv9SjktGxZs451f5YAgTenGsF51XorHXzLKrWqbw4-8gN7UNZVeodwhr8bw5BLOvKHaUOTt5Au22omh8fDokQuyjPJH8q-hs53z0S8RqCrIIAH6flZz8yfWlz03LD18/s1600/COMING_WEEK.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 17.6px;"><br /></span></div>PG Forte's short and sweet NA novella releases tomorrow! It's a small-town, feel-good romance with a cursed stone, a magical kiss beneath the mistletoe, and two friends who finally find their way to being lovers just in time for Valentine's Day...what's not to like?<br /><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; text-align: center;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; color: #990000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Put a Ring Around the Rosie</b></span></span></span></span></div><h4 class="font_4 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; position: relative; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">A Games We Play/Whole Latte Love Story</span></span></h4><h4 class="font_4 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; position: relative; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="inherit-font-size wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></h4><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span color="rgb(var(--color_15))" style="font-family: helvetica;">February 14th is just another day...until it's not!</span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span color="rgb(var(--color_15))" style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgb(var(--color_15))" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Timing is everything. After three years, Rosie and Alex's friendship has finally caught fire. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px;">But is Valentine's Day too much, too fast? </span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; text-align: center;"><b style="font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://books2read.com/RingRosie" style="color: #888888; text-decoration: none;">https://books2read.com/RingRosie</a></span></b></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-PH6U6LBVFI?si=CMrK7Do_5ztUBjLr" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">Read an excerpt </span><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"><a class="wixui-rich-text__text" href="https://www.pgforte.com/rosie-excerpt" rel="noreferrer noopener" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-CFuy3VeJIItvDmf-4u3Ds4QkmVqLrL3m2kiQ5DeSi1uVKtKTMsoXyvJeEyr0hagpAItEOMStuvXgcJ-lR68dgbP1F42TYkVU5JBt9OYAOYobZfNabEh0A5neSmImK9ipl7yY-ZpKXcXcOBoKDxDFRMZ0e3set5KxnY8ptPMGO7LUPS4ne0Y2TiKCjGa/s320/SALE.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-CFuy3VeJIItvDmf-4u3Ds4QkmVqLrL3m2kiQ5DeSi1uVKtKTMsoXyvJeEyr0hagpAItEOMStuvXgcJ-lR68dgbP1F42TYkVU5JBt9OYAOYobZfNabEh0A5neSmImK9ipl7yY-ZpKXcXcOBoKDxDFRMZ0e3set5KxnY8ptPMGO7LUPS4ne0Y2TiKCjGa/s1600/SALE.png" width="320" /></a></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: center;">Last few days on these special promos!</div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">If you're curious about Ream Stories, the new subscription site for fiction, there isn't a better time to check it out. Almost 30 authors (mostly paranormal) have teamed up to offer new members a first month free to their introductory tiers. There's also a giveaway involved offering a grand prize of <b>six months free</b> subscription to any or all of the participating authors' sites. </span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium; text-align: left;">While not all the authors write paranormal, the majority of them do. Click on the link below for details. </span><br style="text-align: left;" /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGq09I8qCeFcHrQEu2pXT8Z65dq90Jf_sbI__7omChVzHeQIyLrLPb78RlcR3Q9GsFg0M8C69z69k5UxxtnXqzjsIgRqfgeH37So9lilw2dv71GDayHIrwTGi7vT6mKp3OlCDoB5Z7X_qC-Xm8zCF1Krrd8oBwOZvY5lge-VmZO1qm26wwI6PHJcDpO6Vx/s1600/425358648_10231600768712881_1015240408414441674_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGq09I8qCeFcHrQEu2pXT8Z65dq90Jf_sbI__7omChVzHeQIyLrLPb78RlcR3Q9GsFg0M8C69z69k5UxxtnXqzjsIgRqfgeH37So9lilw2dv71GDayHIrwTGi7vT6mKp3OlCDoB5Z7X_qC-Xm8zCF1Krrd8oBwOZvY5lge-VmZO1qm26wwI6PHJcDpO6Vx/w400-h225/425358648_10231600768712881_1015240408414441674_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><a href=" https://amynovabooks.com/why-choose-ream" target="_blank"> <span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; list-style: none; outline: currentcolor; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation;">https://amynovabooks.com/why-choose-ream</span></span></span></a></b></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTge7dPJ1R81PhD-PSIa-CEhP5_-tfjYoRFPG1znuHrAg-1zB0PpFe1B3KdIPav6Gtk7Ij0VYJRRuccR-lDOQUSvCK7CM8u7Uh6ziTQ7ewu1tbg1-ndmg7hzihj7kYhV-3PAlHb3Z1mjD-mUZvMjt6V1Zmq8Y9-XjvQuvkLCBVzVCL0R91vUktShBXPOSJ/s1000/header.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="1000" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTge7dPJ1R81PhD-PSIa-CEhP5_-tfjYoRFPG1znuHrAg-1zB0PpFe1B3KdIPav6Gtk7Ij0VYJRRuccR-lDOQUSvCK7CM8u7Uh6ziTQ7ewu1tbg1-ndmg7hzihj7kYhV-3PAlHb3Z1mjD-mUZvMjt6V1Zmq8Y9-XjvQuvkLCBVzVCL0R91vUktShBXPOSJ/w400-h136/header.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">All the Valentine's Day goodness! Only 3 days more!</span></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://books.bookfunnel.com/valentines24/s34z5w4ahl">https://books.bookfunnel.com/valentines24/s34z5w4ahl</a></b></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje58W0DWlg58LCBxA4DZIZmsGVuLiuFkJGw90F1tzIhsqMoSaEP_AFmx9sjLzR5Ih26iuwK0wxE1wW8zgUk5vVCRycUqhvuyylHJaGJQstuFAhvP6f4WR-iKCQ2-Zjq6sM4FkHxaf31FTTK-bnYfREc07wxsP2V2KSAieAcGxKZetRqVphWgB0gNH0t_Ah/s320/BACKLIST.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje58W0DWlg58LCBxA4DZIZmsGVuLiuFkJGw90F1tzIhsqMoSaEP_AFmx9sjLzR5Ih26iuwK0wxE1wW8zgUk5vVCRycUqhvuyylHJaGJQstuFAhvP6f4WR-iKCQ2-Zjq6sM4FkHxaf31FTTK-bnYfREc07wxsP2V2KSAieAcGxKZetRqVphWgB0gNH0t_Ah/s1600/BACKLIST.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> The first Games We Play trilogy was the result of a Submission Call from one of my publishers, the much lamented Loose Id. (For more info, check out this blog post here: <a href="https://allieritch.wordpress.com/2018/07/18/loose-id-books/">https://allieritch.wordpress.com/2018/07/18/loose-id-books/</a>) The idea was to put together three linked stories, each of which had to take place around a Winter Holiday. I chose Valentine's Day, Mardi Gras and St. Patrick's Day, which, yes, stretched the definition of winter somewhat, but there were reasons!!!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In any event...usually I'd be posting about the first book, Truth or Dare, what with Valentine's Day coming up next week, but THIS YEAR Mardi Gras falls on February 13th--the same day that the latest Games We Play book is set to drop. So today, you get an excerpt from book two, instead.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivS593RdUQOk4v4N9IJgNrnUN9z1nEVxUz_aDU_50RInNzd0adTy8dknbM1BHCDrkSmam3BJzqYLmA93gIMxERMg33Myrr8S91zo5-NtZK7EXpJjxgdRD5Ecwi88EkIXAqz5XhShbtxtT73fYFm-urPa0jO8TfpaS1jy0rYcB-n4K9J1K-wmuNKIGA5UED/s628/NEVER_HAVE_I_EVER_WITH_LETTERS.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="628" data-original-width="432" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivS593RdUQOk4v4N9IJgNrnUN9z1nEVxUz_aDU_50RInNzd0adTy8dknbM1BHCDrkSmam3BJzqYLmA93gIMxERMg33Myrr8S91zo5-NtZK7EXpJjxgdRD5Ecwi88EkIXAqz5XhShbtxtT73fYFm-urPa0jO8TfpaS1jy0rYcB-n4K9J1K-wmuNKIGA5UED/s320/NEVER_HAVE_I_EVER_WITH_LETTERS.png" width="220" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: medium;">Never Have I Ever</span></b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Games We Play 2.0<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Kristy loves Luke but if anything was clear to her back when they were kids it was that gawky, awkward, tomboys didn't stand a chance with the king of the schoolyard. She watched her older brothers set their caps for Luke's glamorous cousins and get shot down. So she did what she had to in order to salvage her friendship with Luke. She hid her true feelings and her need for him to take control. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Luke wants Kristy in the worst way -- actually, in all the worst ways: tied up, held down, beaten, bitten, whipped. But he knows he has no chance of ever having her. They'd been childhood friends and sweethearts, until she friend-zoned him in the fifth grade. He knows he can either keep her as a friend, or take her to bed and lose her forever. His biggest mistake—so far—was in hiring her to work alongside him in the bar he and his cousins inherited from their grandmother. He knows Kristy needs the money and the job, but Luke's self-control can't take the constant contact with the girl he wants to dominate–both in and out of the bedroom. Something has to give—and soon!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><a href="https://books2read.com/NeverEver" target="_blank">https://books2read.com/NeverEver</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Excerpt:</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The walk back to the inn itself didn’t take long. It was, in fact, just long enough for Luke to make up his mind, to decide on what fantasy he’d be getting off to tonight. It wasn’t even a fantasy, really. It was a memory of sorts. A dressed-up version of the night he’d come so close to having it all.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Had it really been ten years ago?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He’d been a senior in high school at the time, and Kristy had been a junior, so he guessed it had to have been. It was shortly after Thanksgiving—something else he remembered clearly because it was just a few days after he’d gotten back from spending the holiday weekend in Atlas Beach.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">His family had moved to Bergen County, in the northern part of the state, four years earlier, when his mother had gotten a teaching position at Fairleigh Dickinson University. Technically, it was still New Jersey, but culturally it was almost a different planet. Or so it had felt at the time.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He remembered he’d been surprised when Kristy called him. Not because she never did; their phone conversations over the previous four years had helped him through several rough patches as he’d adjusted to his new community. No, what had surprised him was the timing. He’d only seen her a few days earlier.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFO6PmfIKpu3RdZGvyhvTEn5OanGQwSo_uvOwcVMAwjcd0LDBpbvIRni0udqPLGKJjYkNk5kSKaMRSEQrWztQxERRHNP8wCqRHUx6f6SA1qXPlWgpOWLOGMuW-rRCr8ybrClXM3W1b2v1H6E54HrAcO-sPEA8iGgiaXHwTndutqF8ewtTvxdXxLsK8gg0/s100/reallysmallMG.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="75" data-original-width="100" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFO6PmfIKpu3RdZGvyhvTEn5OanGQwSo_uvOwcVMAwjcd0LDBpbvIRni0udqPLGKJjYkNk5kSKaMRSEQrWztQxERRHNP8wCqRHUx6f6SA1qXPlWgpOWLOGMuW-rRCr8ybrClXM3W1b2v1H6E54HrAcO-sPEA8iGgiaXHwTndutqF8ewtTvxdXxLsK8gg0/w200-h150/reallysmallMG.png" width="200" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;">“There’s this dance coming up at school,” Kristy said, in a tone that seemed to veer between nervous and annoyed. “Did I mention it last week?”</span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I don’t think so.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Okay, well, it’s the junior class’s semiformal.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Your class?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Yes. And it’s scheduled for the Saturday before Christmas.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Uh-huh,” Luke replied unenthusiastically. Maybe, if he didn’t express much interest, she’d take the hint and stop talking about it. At the best of times, he didn’t like hearing about events he was missing in what he still considered his hometown. He especially didn’t want to hear about some dance she’d be attending without him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As Kristy continued talking, Luke opened his desk drawer and took out the folder of sketches he kept hidden from his mother—pictures of naked women, tied up or in chains. He picked up a pencil, and as he half listened to Kristy talk, he added details to a half-finished picture.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“It’s going to be at the hotel. So I thought maybe someone there might have said something about it to you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Nope.” Maybe they had, but if so, he hadn’t been listening then either.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Okay, well, I’m on the decorating committee, and I think it’s gonna be really cool, you know?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Uh-huh,” he repeated, wondering why they were still on this subject. For that matter, why did she sound so weird, so…nervous, almost? Did she realize how much he hated this conversation? Nah, couldn’t be. Kristy was nicer than he was. If she knew she was making him unhappy, she’d stop. He added a gag to the picture.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“So, the thing is, it’s the kind of thing where the girls have to ask the boys.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Luke’s pencil stilled. “Uh-huh.” <i>What the fuck?</i> She couldn’t be asking him out…could she? It had been her idea that they just stay friends. Did this mean she’d changed her mind? Or was she going to ask his advice on which of their friends she should go with instead? Maybe it was neither. Maybe she just wanted to talk. He sure hoped that was all it was.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“And, well, you know my father!” Kristy’s frustrated sigh vibrated through the phone, leaving Luke guiltily aware of the fact that he’d missed a critical part of the conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Sorry, I missed that. What did you say?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The phone went silent. “What part did you miss?” Kristy asked in cautious tones.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Luke winced. “Everything after ‘the girls have to ask the boys,’” he admitted, steeling himself for Kristy’s reaction.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kristy sighed. “I said, ‘my father will only let me go with someone he approves of.’”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Well, that sucks,” Luke said, even though he was secretly—and selfishly—relieved.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Yeah, so will you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Will I what?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Will you go with me to the dance?” Kristy replied, then quickly added, “I mean, you don’t <i>have</i> to. It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just…well, it kinda sucks, that’s all, to put in all that work and not even see how it all turns out…”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Wait. Didn’t you just… Are you saying your father approves of <i>me</i>?” Luke asked in disbelief. That couldn’t be right.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“He thinks you’re a good influence.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“He does? Does he even know who I am?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Yes, Luke. He knows who you are. He knows your family. I guess he figures because you and Rocco are friends that you’re…I dunno. Safe, maybe?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Safe?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Or something, I guess.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“He oughta talk to my mom.” Luke thought about that for a moment. “On second thought, no, he shouldn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“So…?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Luke bit back a sigh. She didn’t want him as a boyfriend, but she didn’t mind using him as a sort of pretend boyfriend when she needed a date. Being there, surrounded by real couples, was going to suck. He had every right to be angry, every right to tell her no. But then she’d be disappointed. She’d have to stay home, or she’d find some other loser to go with—maybe someone every bit as “safe” as him. There was no way he was going to let that happen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“What time do you want me to pick you up?” he asked, giving in to the inevitable.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Really? You mean it?” Kristy practically squealed with happiness, which made Luke feel even more confused. Much as he liked being her hero, he kind of wished he’d been able to tease her a little more first. To drag it out. To make her beg. Maybe next time.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He sighed. “That’s what friends are for, right?”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><h1 style="text-align: center;"><br /></h1><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span class="wixGuard wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></p>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-36387971371712968602024-02-10T03:00:00.006-05:002024-02-10T03:00:00.415-05:00Bring It Back(list) ~ Never Have I Ever by PG Forte<p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> The first Games We Play trilogy was the result of a Submission Call from one of my publishers, the much lamented Loose Id. (For more info, check out this blog post here: <a href="https://allieritch.wordpress.com/2018/07/18/loose-id-books/">https://allieritch.wordpress.com/2018/07/18/loose-id-books/</a>) The idea was to put together three linked stories, each of which had to take place around a Winter Holiday. I chose Valentine's Day, Mardi Gras and St. Patrick's Day, which, yes, stretched the definition of winter somewhat, but there were reasons!!!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In any event...usually I'd be posting about the first book, Truth or Dare, what with Valentine's Day coming up next week, but THIS YEAR Mardi Gras falls on February 13th--the same day that the latest Games We Play book is set to drop. So today, you get an excerpt from book two, instead.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivS593RdUQOk4v4N9IJgNrnUN9z1nEVxUz_aDU_50RInNzd0adTy8dknbM1BHCDrkSmam3BJzqYLmA93gIMxERMg33Myrr8S91zo5-NtZK7EXpJjxgdRD5Ecwi88EkIXAqz5XhShbtxtT73fYFm-urPa0jO8TfpaS1jy0rYcB-n4K9J1K-wmuNKIGA5UED/s628/NEVER_HAVE_I_EVER_WITH_LETTERS.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="628" data-original-width="432" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivS593RdUQOk4v4N9IJgNrnUN9z1nEVxUz_aDU_50RInNzd0adTy8dknbM1BHCDrkSmam3BJzqYLmA93gIMxERMg33Myrr8S91zo5-NtZK7EXpJjxgdRD5Ecwi88EkIXAqz5XhShbtxtT73fYFm-urPa0jO8TfpaS1jy0rYcB-n4K9J1K-wmuNKIGA5UED/s320/NEVER_HAVE_I_EVER_WITH_LETTERS.png" width="220" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: medium;">Never Have I Ever</span></b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Games We Play 2.0<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Kristy loves Luke but if anything was clear to her back when they were kids it was that gawky, awkward, tomboys didn't stand a chance with the king of the schoolyard. She watched her older brothers set their caps for Luke's glamorous cousins and get shot down. So she did what she had to in order to salvage her friendship with Luke. She hid her true feelings and her need for him to take control. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Luke wants Kristy in the worst way -- actually, in all the worst ways: tied up, held down, beaten, bitten, whipped. But he knows he has no chance of ever having her. They'd been childhood friends and sweethearts, until she friend-zoned him in the fifth grade. He knows he can either keep her as a friend, or take her to bed and lose her forever. His biggest mistake—so far—was in hiring her to work alongside him in the bar he and his cousins inherited from their grandmother. He knows Kristy needs the money and the job, but Luke's self-control can't take the constant contact with the girl he wants to dominate–both in and out of the bedroom. Something has to give—and soon!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><a href="https://books2read.com/NeverEver" target="_blank">https://books2read.com/NeverEver</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Excerpt:</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The walk back to the inn itself didn’t take long. It was, in fact, just long enough for Luke to make up his mind, to decide on what fantasy he’d be getting off to tonight. It wasn’t even a fantasy, really. It was a memory of sorts. A dressed-up version of the night he’d come so close to having it all.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Had it really been ten years ago?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He’d been a senior in high school at the time, and Kristy had been a junior, so he guessed it had to have been. It was shortly after Thanksgiving—something else he remembered clearly because it was just a few days after he’d gotten back from spending the holiday weekend in Atlas Beach.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">His family had moved to Bergen County, in the northern part of the state, four years earlier, when his mother had gotten a teaching position at Fairleigh Dickinson University. Technically, it was still New Jersey, but culturally it was almost a different planet. Or so it had felt at the time.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He remembered he’d been surprised when Kristy called him. Not because she never did; their phone conversations over the previous four years had helped him through several rough patches as he’d adjusted to his new community. No, what had surprised him was the timing. He’d only seen her a few days earlier.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFO6PmfIKpu3RdZGvyhvTEn5OanGQwSo_uvOwcVMAwjcd0LDBpbvIRni0udqPLGKJjYkNk5kSKaMRSEQrWztQxERRHNP8wCqRHUx6f6SA1qXPlWgpOWLOGMuW-rRCr8ybrClXM3W1b2v1H6E54HrAcO-sPEA8iGgiaXHwTndutqF8ewtTvxdXxLsK8gg0/s100/reallysmallMG.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="75" data-original-width="100" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFO6PmfIKpu3RdZGvyhvTEn5OanGQwSo_uvOwcVMAwjcd0LDBpbvIRni0udqPLGKJjYkNk5kSKaMRSEQrWztQxERRHNP8wCqRHUx6f6SA1qXPlWgpOWLOGMuW-rRCr8ybrClXM3W1b2v1H6E54HrAcO-sPEA8iGgiaXHwTndutqF8ewtTvxdXxLsK8gg0/w200-h150/reallysmallMG.png" width="200" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;">“There’s this dance coming up at school,” Kristy said, in a tone that seemed to veer between nervous and annoyed. “Did I mention it last week?”</span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I don’t think so.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Okay, well, it’s the junior class’s semiformal.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Your class?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Yes. And it’s scheduled for the Saturday before Christmas.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Uh-huh,” Luke replied unenthusiastically. Maybe, if he didn’t express much interest, she’d take the hint and stop talking about it. At the best of times, he didn’t like hearing about events he was missing in what he still considered his hometown. He especially didn’t want to hear about some dance she’d be attending without him.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As Kristy continued talking, Luke opened his desk drawer and took out the folder of sketches he kept hidden from his mother—pictures of naked women, tied up or in chains. He picked up a pencil, and as he half listened to Kristy talk, he added details to a half-finished picture.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“It’s going to be at the hotel. So I thought maybe someone there might have said something about it to you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Nope.” Maybe they had, but if so, he hadn’t been listening then either.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Okay, well, I’m on the decorating committee, and I think it’s gonna be really cool, you know?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Uh-huh,” he repeated, wondering why they were still on this subject. For that matter, why did she sound so weird, so…nervous, almost? Did she realize how much he hated this conversation? Nah, couldn’t be. Kristy was nicer than he was. If she knew she was making him unhappy, she’d stop. He added a gag to the picture.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“So, the thing is, it’s the kind of thing where the girls have to ask the boys.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Luke’s pencil stilled. “Uh-huh.” <i>What the fuck?</i> She couldn’t be asking him out…could she? It had been her idea that they just stay friends. Did this mean she’d changed her mind? Or was she going to ask his advice on which of their friends she should go with instead? Maybe it was neither. Maybe she just wanted to talk. He sure hoped that was all it was.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“And, well, you know my father!” Kristy’s frustrated sigh vibrated through the phone, leaving Luke guiltily aware of the fact that he’d missed a critical part of the conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Sorry, I missed that. What did you say?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The phone went silent. “What part did you miss?” Kristy asked in cautious tones.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Luke winced. “Everything after ‘the girls have to ask the boys,’” he admitted, steeling himself for Kristy’s reaction.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kristy sighed. “I said, ‘my father will only let me go with someone he approves of.’”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Well, that sucks,” Luke said, even though he was secretly—and selfishly—relieved.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Yeah, so will you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Will I what?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Will you go with me to the dance?” Kristy replied, then quickly added, “I mean, you don’t <i>have</i> to. It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just…well, it kinda sucks, that’s all, to put in all that work and not even see how it all turns out…”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Wait. Didn’t you just… Are you saying your father approves of <i>me</i>?” Luke asked in disbelief. That couldn’t be right.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“He thinks you’re a good influence.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“He does? Does he even know who I am?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Yes, Luke. He knows who you are. He knows your family. I guess he figures because you and Rocco are friends that you’re…I dunno. Safe, maybe?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Safe?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Or something, I guess.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“He oughta talk to my mom.” Luke thought about that for a moment. “On second thought, no, he shouldn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“So…?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Luke bit back a sigh. She didn’t want him as a boyfriend, but she didn’t mind using him as a sort of pretend boyfriend when she needed a date. Being there, surrounded by real couples, was going to suck. He had every right to be angry, every right to tell her no. But then she’d be disappointed. She’d have to stay home, or she’d find some other loser to go with—maybe someone every bit as “safe” as him. There was no way he was going to let that happen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“What time do you want me to pick you up?” he asked, giving in to the inevitable.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Really? You mean it?” Kristy practically squealed with happiness, which made Luke feel even more confused. Much as he liked being her hero, he kind of wished he’d been able to tease her a little more first. To drag it out. To make her beg. Maybe next time.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He sighed. “That’s what friends are for, right?”</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 3pt 0in 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.4in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><h1 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Now Available for Pre-Order:</span></h1><h4 class="font_4 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 26px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; color: darkred; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></h4><h4 class="font_4 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 26px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; color: darkred; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivcKDa2c-X62Uk3g_xeXc_ghVNHOzhV_AgNZExC0WnYGuE-sTjY6GysZUTcsnEDIbW0FlnxRideTGumsEp95rtCYMCC1bXSUApPF91rjYPsPEPp_BaYjzM2pIE5fryRvYyyM1iFFruX-_uh53O7R9QcOSbiT_Cd2Potub502Tb2hyphenhyphensuJvdkuyThUW5I9_/s2560/NEWEST_Ring_cloth.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1749" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivcKDa2c-X62Uk3g_xeXc_ghVNHOzhV_AgNZExC0WnYGuE-sTjY6GysZUTcsnEDIbW0FlnxRideTGumsEp95rtCYMCC1bXSUApPF91rjYPsPEPp_BaYjzM2pIE5fryRvYyyM1iFFruX-_uh53O7R9QcOSbiT_Cd2Potub502Tb2hyphenhyphensuJvdkuyThUW5I9_/s320/NEWEST_Ring_cloth.png" width="219" /></a></div>Put a Ring Around the Rosie</span></h4><h4 class="font_4 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 26px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixGuard wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></h4><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b><a href="https://books2read.com/RingRosie"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://books2read.com/RingRosie</span></a></b></span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">February 14th is just another day...until it's not.</span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"> </p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">They say timing is everything, and that certainly has always been the case where Alex and I are concerned. We met nearly two years ago when he was hired to work at Cup of Joe, the coffee shop where I was already an old timer. It was lust at first sight, at least on my part, but I had a boyfriend then, and so did he. By the time we were both single and I’d worked out that he was bi, things between us had become complicated in so many other ways that it seemed much simpler and safer to just stay friends.</span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">We were work spouses for a while, and then we weren’t. And when we reconnected with each other last month it was after a prolonged period of hurt feelings and miscommunication during which we barely spoke to each other at all. </span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"> </p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Now, even though our friendship’s caught fire, so to speak, I feel like we’re both still recovering from that last, disconnected phase. Heaping a bunch of unrealistic expectations, or a need for chocolate hearts, plush toys, or rose colored anything on top of that seems like a little too much added pressure. </span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span class="wixGuard wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p class="font_8 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Read an excerpt <span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;"><a class="wixui-rich-text__text" href="https://www.pgforte.com/rosie-excerpt" rel="noreferrer noopener" style="background: none; border: 0px; cursor: pointer; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></span></p>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-90851744963410216642024-02-08T12:41:00.001-05:002024-02-08T12:41:17.209-05:00Blast from the Past<p> I was feeling nostalgic this past week and got to thinking about my first published novel, Unlocking the Doors, which came out in 1988 from Scholastic Canada.<br /></p><p>A little backstory. I wrote my first novel at age thirteen. Unlocking the Doors was the fourth one I wrote and I was lucky enough to have it published while I was still in high school. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGFSwLLPGnDXAk_mpj-PF0gVkyOgOd-aA7fwGCwJ4vSV6ZFBzmdLUAQ-ohu_wZS9_g12ee9wlQGb5e22J3wfEe9eeS-xeB-ABDqmj138tFbWbA0PVJmd1E3Oi_dE6cjVFYqZ1cmRea2iG8QS0WSCuJJwcHKCSq0O2y9WlFTxyUrlAZbdT57U4vfFI824Tt/s2453/20240201_142714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2453" data-original-width="2393" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGFSwLLPGnDXAk_mpj-PF0gVkyOgOd-aA7fwGCwJ4vSV6ZFBzmdLUAQ-ohu_wZS9_g12ee9wlQGb5e22J3wfEe9eeS-xeB-ABDqmj138tFbWbA0PVJmd1E3Oi_dE6cjVFYqZ1cmRea2iG8QS0WSCuJJwcHKCSq0O2y9WlFTxyUrlAZbdT57U4vfFI824Tt/s320/20240201_142714.jpg" width="312" /></a></div><br /><p>Boy, how times have changed. </p><p>I wrote the first draft on a manual typewriter, but switched to computer for later drafts. The top left picture is me at my Tandy 1000 (bought from Radio Shack). </p><p>When I finished the novel I printed it out on a dot matrix printer, stuck it in an envelope and mailed it off to Scholastic Canada. You could do that back then. The publishing houses all had slush piles and staff to read them. You didn't need an agent (though they were definitely a bonus.)</p><p class="_ap3a _aaco _aacu _aacx _aad7 _aade" style="text-align: left;">I still
remember the day I got THE CALL from Scholastic. It was a cold, dark
morning in February. The phone rang as I went out the door, but I
thought nothing of it until my mom stepped onto the porch and yelled
down the driveway, "Nicole, they're going to publish Unlocking the
Doors!" Such a wonderful moment... and then the bus pulled up and I had
to get on and go to school without finding anything else out for another
hour. 😂<br /><br />I was paid the grand sum of $1000 (that's the cheque I'm holding in the top right picture.) I got 24 authors copies to hand out to friends and family and we had a party at my house. I remember that one of my cousins brought champagne, which I'd never tasted before.<br /></p><p class="_ap3a _aaco _aacu _aacx _aad7 _aade" style="text-align: left;">The book is long since out of print, and I'm a little afraid to reread it, but I'm still proud of what teenage me accomplished.</p><p class="_ap3a _aaco _aacu _aacx _aad7 _aade" style="text-align: left;"> <br /></p><p></p>Nicole Luikenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11372595852638729630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-45403121132222927372024-02-05T09:44:00.000-05:002024-02-05T09:44:50.442-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday February 05, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday February 05, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><a href="DARK HOURS, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 1" target="_blank">Tuesday January 30, 2024</a></i></b>: Linda Mooney treats us to the first chapter of her fantasy romance, Dark Hours</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJry6qLZHtaugZDmZQvjuGQtP1Hvqfs2KzRV_rsGA5YJR-IHQQCAoBQDvvTtACciuQVvMpz-1j10r117bsbMr-2gbFN6Hy7o-ujVY3L501qzMMEFqlYj9l2M1yVbIUousOVUxqUWU1cblcvZJ4XCBTuDeQMHtsO6BTfP6U1GFDYJkZixViPhhRqDe1n5Tb/s320/COMING_WEEK.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJry6qLZHtaugZDmZQvjuGQtP1Hvqfs2KzRV_rsGA5YJR-IHQQCAoBQDvvTtACciuQVvMpz-1j10r117bsbMr-2gbFN6Hy7o-ujVY3L501qzMMEFqlYj9l2M1yVbIUousOVUxqUWU1cblcvZJ4XCBTuDeQMHtsO6BTfP6U1GFDYJkZixViPhhRqDe1n5Tb/s1600/COMING_WEEK.png" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If you're curious about Ream Stories, the new subscription site for fiction, there isn't a better time to check it out. Almost 30 authors (mostly paranormal) have teamed up to offer new members a first month free to their introductory tiers. There's also a giveaway involved offering a grand prize of <b>six months free</b> subscription to any or all of the participating authors' sites. </span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;">While not all the authors write paranormal, the majority of them do. Click on the link below for details. </span><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGq09I8qCeFcHrQEu2pXT8Z65dq90Jf_sbI__7omChVzHeQIyLrLPb78RlcR3Q9GsFg0M8C69z69k5UxxtnXqzjsIgRqfgeH37So9lilw2dv71GDayHIrwTGi7vT6mKp3OlCDoB5Z7X_qC-Xm8zCF1Krrd8oBwOZvY5lge-VmZO1qm26wwI6PHJcDpO6Vx/s1600/425358648_10231600768712881_1015240408414441674_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGq09I8qCeFcHrQEu2pXT8Z65dq90Jf_sbI__7omChVzHeQIyLrLPb78RlcR3Q9GsFg0M8C69z69k5UxxtnXqzjsIgRqfgeH37So9lilw2dv71GDayHIrwTGi7vT6mKp3OlCDoB5Z7X_qC-Xm8zCF1Krrd8oBwOZvY5lge-VmZO1qm26wwI6PHJcDpO6Vx/w400-h225/425358648_10231600768712881_1015240408414441674_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><a href=" https://amynovabooks.com/why-choose-ream" target="_blank"> <span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; list-style: none; outline: currentcolor; text-align: inherit; touch-action: manipulation;">https://amynovabooks.com/why-choose-ream</span></span></span></a></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWwLoJWqf3o_l9GDnv6UZjEYKFXEeCY9tcl9ZlPLVqrLyM6TqfKlGRn_Zpu4wLbo2o4PkDzKVcoPzDmPMbWtBGYFjA3cvWxNC-VTaI80Ui3jYgO_4v2pDMEoMOYog7m-_1S03bZNMyObrRXlTipZHi2VKSLVm8WJAsCDIdm_l9oozDRdan-yFKuWTF6Ho/s320/NEW_RELEASE.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWwLoJWqf3o_l9GDnv6UZjEYKFXEeCY9tcl9ZlPLVqrLyM6TqfKlGRn_Zpu4wLbo2o4PkDzKVcoPzDmPMbWtBGYFjA3cvWxNC-VTaI80Ui3jYgO_4v2pDMEoMOYog7m-_1S03bZNMyObrRXlTipZHi2VKSLVm8WJAsCDIdm_l9oozDRdan-yFKuWTF6Ho/s1600/NEW_RELEASE.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">New from Linda Mooney:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aTjEwfjFnwzOdpnAM6QqNLssJtqEobkba8NY3kLqQdTyi5NB_VTlJ6jk0ASxUcEW2ifwtq4BBtkzAk3ZIJ-J2c942Fbqmvg072VRb81yUQbKi6O-sR95pY_FL2wNt1mI1rn7VS-dad3ZSaEUJxvKi8Ts9Dhw4TzPPVpE8dpu8IVCYCuoo4avCdafhVMh/s1500/81LjlzIylbL._SL1500_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aTjEwfjFnwzOdpnAM6QqNLssJtqEobkba8NY3kLqQdTyi5NB_VTlJ6jk0ASxUcEW2ifwtq4BBtkzAk3ZIJ-J2c942Fbqmvg072VRb81yUQbKi6O-sR95pY_FL2wNt1mI1rn7VS-dad3ZSaEUJxvKi8Ts9Dhw4TzPPVpE8dpu8IVCYCuoo4avCdafhVMh/w266-h400/81LjlzIylbL._SL1500_.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><h4 style="text-align: center;"><span class="a-size-extra-large celwidget" data-cel-widget="productTitle" data-csa-c-id="el9b6m-xbpsg-yug7mc-bb5x9p" id="productTitle" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 36px !important; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Valentwines: 14 Tales of Romance That Didn’t Quite Go As Planned</span></span></h4></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Valentwines-Tales-Romance-Didnt-Planned-ebook/dp/B0CTS7M51X">https://www.amazon.com/Valentwines-Tales-Romance-Didnt-Planned-ebook/dp/B0CTS7M51X</a></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">Stories included are:</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">CHOCOLATES - </span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">The salesman was persuasive, the samples delicious, and the price was where Melvin couldn’t turn down buying a box.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">BUBBLE BATH - </span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">Chet decided drawing her a hot bubble bath and ordering in some Chinese food would make for a perfect night.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">DICE - </span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">A little love play based on a set of "romance dice" sounded like just thing to spice up their marriage.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">ROMANTIC MOVIE - Word on the street was that it was the perfect movie for a date night.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">STRAWBERRIES AND CHAMPAGNE - It was something different, which was why Lewis chose to spring this gift on Stacia.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">MOTEL ROOM - It was their chance to get away for the night—no kids, no worries.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">ROSE - He was dead broke, but fortune helped him find a way to get her the rose she wanted.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">DINNER OUT - They were looking forward to celebrating the holiday at the exclusive restaurant.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">JEWELRY - The heart-shaped earrings had to be real diamonds.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">BREAKFAST IN BED – Callen’s brother had a great idea, including what to fix.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">CARD - Travis couldn’t find one that expressed how much he really loved her.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">NIGHTIE - It was sheer, sexy-looking, and they had her size.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">PET - Hale swore they’d never have one, no matter how much his wife wanted it.</span><span style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><span class="a-text-bold" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 700 !important; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">GIFT CARD - Kevin was stumped on what to get his wife, until he found the perfect solution.</span></div></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-66389761106558512902024-01-30T04:00:00.035-05:002024-03-02T10:31:41.099-05:00DARK HOURS, a Fantasy Romance by Linda Mooney - Chapter 1<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiApw_4_AAPuHcNLrnfXHd8WfA1InaoeNJXPSNri3TH7NP9-k8x3SlmtdFKcoSoT9l16o4UsOMeITfOE0Njv2zslKCCQ70MSHzWpy8KRAZcw-yjndr3smDpRgf8quaj12NXCSiRMw_lROyVMd4i3_ZiIeziNff84YNWJoqc73Zu8kmaJztRT-Eme5pUuf3/s1285/tumblr_5cbf73d7f25dafe81fa7ac2952b3b77c_7253f271_1280.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1285" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiApw_4_AAPuHcNLrnfXHd8WfA1InaoeNJXPSNri3TH7NP9-k8x3SlmtdFKcoSoT9l16o4UsOMeITfOE0Njv2zslKCCQ70MSHzWpy8KRAZcw-yjndr3smDpRgf8quaj12NXCSiRMw_lROyVMd4i3_ZiIeziNff84YNWJoqc73Zu8kmaJztRT-Eme5pUuf3/s320/tumblr_5cbf73d7f25dafe81fa7ac2952b3b77c_7253f271_1280.jpg" width="179" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><b style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Chapter 1<br /></b><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Through the
thickness of tears, Emers stared down at her palms. In the wan moonlight she
could just discern that her hands were bleeding, yet she felt no pain. At
least, no pain that was greater than the one doing such damage to her heart and
mind.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The initial wall
of fear that had loomed over her and come crashing down around her had not
completely dissipated. It still lay in large, terrifying chunks around her. Even
now she would stumble blindly into it as the night grew colder and more
forbidding.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It had struck
her with such suddenness that, at first, she had been paralyzed with shock. She
had awakened alone and naked in the middle of a vast, open field of stubble.
Without warning. Without explanation.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">How had she
gotten here? Where was her home? Where was Noranye? And who was responsible for
bringing her here?<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She shivered
against a sudden gust of wind. Her long hair afforded no protection against the
late fall weather. In the dark, a phrase repeated itself over and over in her
mind.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i>Am I going
mad?</i><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Her feet were
moving but she couldn’t feel the ground. At some point she understood she could
die from the elements if she didn’t find protection soon. Clothing. Food.
Shelter. She tried to focus, staring out into the indiscernible distance for a
light, for some sign of humanity.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She paused.
There. In the distance. At first she thought she was imagining it until she
realized it was real. It seemed far away, but it definitely was a fire. A
cooking fire or one for warmth, it didn’t matter. It flickered. It meant
safety, humanity, a source of protection from the darkness and cold. All that
did matter was that she get to it as soon as possible, and hopefully, by the
grace of the gods, someone would take pity on her and provide her with a piece
of cloth and a scrap of food to sustain her.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">How long Emers
forced one numb foot in front of the other, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was
that she had to keep her eyes on the yellow glow that steadily grew closer.
Keep her eyes on it and keep walking. Keep walking and pray she would reach it
in time.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It was as if her
mind refused to acknowledge what was going on around her. From behind her came
the heavy thud of what sounded like hoofbeats. A heartbeat later a dark form
rushed over her, passing her as it headed straight for the light. A hard
downwind from what had to be enormous wings nearly knocked her to the ground.
Somehow, she was able to stay on her feet. She could only guess what had missed
her, but by now it no longer mattered. Focusing on the light, Emers continued
toward her destination.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">There was a guttural
roar, the deep sound of anger made by some animal, and a high-pitched scream
answered. Another roar, followed by the sound of whimpering. The hoofbeat noises
stopped behind her but she couldn’t make herself look back to see what was
causing them.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The dark form
came closer until it blocked out most of the light from the fire. She realized
it was a dragon. Huge. Black. Menacing. Something dripped from its muzzle, and
for a moment she stopped. She stumbled back, holding her hands out before her
as if their thin, pale shapes could keep the enormous animal from attacking.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Bile rose in her
throat. She could feel her fear rising, her breath quickening, as her eyes
locked on to the dragon’s. Small words of pleading fell from blue lips as she
begged the animal to take pity on her.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The dragon
licked its muzzle. It sniffed the air and took a step closer to her. Immense
ebony wings blocked out the night sky, but at the same time they blocked the
frigid winds. Fiery yellow eyes stared at her, a strange stare. What could
almost have been a human expression of puzzlement seemed to cross the creature’s
features. Then, without explanation, the giant beast sidled up to her and pressed
the front of its huge head against her. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">An almost
inaudible cry of terror escaped her before she realized the animal was not
about to ravage her. As her hands shook with fear, Emers reached out. Her
fingers involuntarily slid up the sides of its snout, above the gargantuan
mouth with teeth larger than her hands. The animal’s warmth was intoxicating,
and before she knew what she was doing, she reached up and wrapped her arms
around the dragon’s neck, pressing her shivering body against the creature. The
dragon responded with a low rumble, almost the way a cat would purr.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It wouldn’t hurt
her. At least, not at this moment. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Something
clanked in the distance. A gust of wind rushed over them, and it sounded again.
An object glinted in the firelight. Releasing the dragon, she hurried over to
the fire.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Emers stared in
disbelief at the sight of the chainmail and armor lying in a heap a short
distance from the pit. She reached down to push aside the shoulder guards when
she caught sight of the breastplate. Of the emblem etched where it protected
the owner’s heart. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Fear and hope
rushed through her at the thought he could be nearby. She whipped her head
around, trying to find her beloved. “Kayge!” The name fled weakly on the winds.
“<i>Kayge!</i>”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">There was no
answering call, no sound of his voice. In the dark, distant night there was
just her and the unnatural affection of the dragon helping to protect her. All
black. Black on black—night and dragon.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Kayge?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Her mouth felt
stiff. It was becoming difficult to move her lips, even more to call out. A
faint thought brushed through her mind, and Emers straightened. She needed to survive.
She needed to cover herself, or else she’d die of exposure.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">As she lifted
the suit of chainmail, she was surprised, yet not surprised, to find a shirt,
leather jerkin, and pants beneath the armor, including his boots. Half-frozen
fingers struggled with the buttons when she realized she could simply slip the
shirt over her head. The jerkin and pants were not a problem, either. At one
point she had to use her teeth to loosen the hard, nearly-frozen leather laces
on the boots. Eventually they came undone, and she shoved her feet into them. As
she knew they would be, the clothing was big on her, but she had no other
choice.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She searched for
a cloak or other outer wrap but didn’t find one. Emers pondered why Kayge would
be out here without any, when it came to her that perhaps he was wearing it
now. Without his clothing or armor, he’d need something to protect him from the
cold.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Stepping back,
she nearly tripped over an object. The long steel blade reflected the fire’s
flames, and the sight of it caused her more worry. Maybe she could think of a
reasonable explanation why Kayge had ditched his clothing and armor, but not
his sword. Never his sword.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The night was
unreasonably cold. Even with his oversized clothing enveloping her, she continued
to shiver. Glancing down at the armor, she considered putting it on as well,
but the metal was like ice. She tried to cross her arms and tuck her hands
against her ribs, but it was like hugging two handfuls of snow. Her breath
escaped her body in hot, white mists. Her nose had become a lump of skin on her
face. She couldn’t feel anything. All sensation was deadened.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">There was a
snort, and something pushed against her back. The dragon shook his head, either
with impatience or from the cold, Emers couldn’t tell, but it was enough to make
her move.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The fire burned,
flickered, inviting her to draw closer. The dragon was telling her to get
closer to its warmth. Maybe Kayge was nearby. Maybe he was unable to join her now
but would soon. If she added more fuel to the fire, he might spot it. It would also
make waiting for him to return more endurable. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A warm fire. And
perhaps a bite to eat.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The thought
evoked a rumble in her belly.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The line of
trees lay a short distance away. Emers went to fetch more wood. As she went
around to the other side of the firepit, she spotted a smear of blood spreading
away into the darkness and disappearing behind a clump of trees. Fear tightened
in her gut. She wanted to follow it. See where it led. See if Kayge was at the
other end.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She took a step
forward in that direction when the dragon grunted. A puff of smoke came from
its nostrils as it stared at her. There was no mistaking the look on its face.
It didn’t want her to leave.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Emers continued
to watch the creature as it settled on the ground and drew its wings around itself
to preserve warmth. If she tried to investigate, would it physically try to
stop her? Would it become angry and attack her?<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The massive head
turned, and the animal huffed again, this time indicating something a short
distance away. She went over to where it wanted her to go and discovered a rabbit
that had been skinned and gutted, leaving the carcass lying atop a rock. A
shiny little dagger, still covered in blood, lay in the dirt beside it. A long
branch, perhaps to spit and cook the animal, was propped next to it. Her first
thought was that Kayge had been preparing it before he disappeared. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">As her meal sizzled
above the flames, the dragon sidled closer, drawn either by the scent of blood
or by the fire’s warmth. Tossing the rabbit’s intestines toward the dragon, she
watched the animal deftly catch and devour them. Now that she could see the creature
more clearly in the fire’s light, it appeared more intimidating, more
frightening than before. But she remembered its familiarity with her, and how
it tried to give her its own body heat.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She managed a
small smile. “Good evening to you, Sir Dragon. I trust your belly is full
enough so that you won’t try to fill it with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Two glowing orange-red
eyes stared at her. Presently it broke eye contact and began to sniff the area,
staying just within the ring of light. After a while it made its way back to
her side and plopped down on the ground behind her. Emers shifted from where
she sat so she could keep an eye on the creature at all times. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Where did you
come from, and why are you here?” she commented to the animal. “You may be
friendly now, but will you be so at dawn?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She wiped the
blood from her hands in a tuft of frost-covered grass. Gathering a little of
the small patch of remaining snow she found nearby, she ate some of it, letting
the crystals melt on her tongue. The tightness in her throat lessened, revealing
how dehydrated she’d been. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Between the fire,
the clothing affording her its warmth, and the dragon’s body heat, Emers began
to feel her eyes drooping from fatigue. A movement from the corner of her eye
jerked her back to wakefulness until she saw it was the dragon peering out into
the darkness, its ears up and alert. Suddenly the animal jumped to its feet and
sprang into the night sky with a whoosh of wind. Its actions alarmed her. What
was it going after? Her deepest fears arose like bile in her mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Kayge!” Emers
scrambled to her feet. It had to be him. It had to be! Why else would the dragon
leave? “Kayge!”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">There was a
yell, then a scream, both of which were punctuated by the angry roar of the dragon.
As soon as it had begun, the sound stopped. Several silent seconds passed, and
then a mournful howl floated through the air.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Kayge!”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Her fear nearly
choked her, keeping her from breathing. She waited for the sound of his voice.
When it never came, Emers could wait no longer. She had to know. She had to see
for herself. Snatching up his long sword, she ventured out.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The rocks were
sharp, nearly causing her to stumble and fall. Regardless, she hurried to where
a shapeless form lay in a heap just beyond the edge of the forest. The clouds
broke at that moment, and the sickly moon revealed a thin frame covered in
filthy, tattered clothing. From what she could tell through the matted blood,
the man had hair. It was enough. She didn’t have to see his face. It wasn’t Kayge.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Which meant he could
still out there.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Another growl
echoed in the darkness. Moments later the black dragon swooped down close
enough for her to spot in the moonlight. Landing nearby, it approached and sniffed
the carcass, only to dismiss it. Then, like a spirit, the animal melted back
into the black of night. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A frigid wind
pushed against her, trying to find an opening in her clothing. It caused a
shudder to go through her. Kayge would come back to her when he was able. When
it was safe. If there was but one truth, it was that she knew he had to be out
there. Somewhere. Protecting her. Out there amid the cold and the dark and the
unknown, he had to be watching out for her, protecting her as he always did. As
he always would. And as soon as he felt they were safe, he would return. As he
always did. As he always would.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Until then she
would wait for him. In the meantime, there was a rabbit burning on the fire and
a dragon circling overhead, keeping its own vigil. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Turning back
toward the small encampment, Emers Ammin of Deccatar went to look after them
both.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">TO BE CONTINUED</span></b><o:p></o:p></p><p><a href="https://lindamooney.com/"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Linda's Website</span></a><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-27756967735178243102024-01-29T03:00:00.013-05:002024-01-29T03:00:00.158-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday January 29, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday January 29, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBy3jV8o_rd9diMUyli84mzO45o7Bnj6KzH-hMHFtZ5GySdqr1siLtmUgyxSA2CvfavfBKzTSHfINt1xdjqCSN4XyZzFYMSXaeufGXty0FlXWIYaDP7XNOk3AXvo3NKZi7ibOqlEXhIrMez6NzOz2otESa5rqGs32Enz6M2uKGftE2_rqm-k2FtyVIZyu8/s320/NEW_RELEASE.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBy3jV8o_rd9diMUyli84mzO45o7Bnj6KzH-hMHFtZ5GySdqr1siLtmUgyxSA2CvfavfBKzTSHfINt1xdjqCSN4XyZzFYMSXaeufGXty0FlXWIYaDP7XNOk3AXvo3NKZi7ibOqlEXhIrMez6NzOz2otESa5rqGs32Enz6M2uKGftE2_rqm-k2FtyVIZyu8/s1600/NEW_RELEASE.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4YDScYog2Anp8kLUMeifXiU9tggHmjvDIfanE_xYsSvdyTGmB3E6U725fZJdQZ_LBdJUVoTPYpatEQ7l3N9gO436IeDuUgj0eyfgp9WCGySRJrq8-L7aYuYbzR0wbkRRYjXVt5OgtsfmJTybtUhak3PSy7ioiaEqkKcufCQv93_kmUkElcL0TFdbquIe6/s2560/Welcome-to-Oberon-Generic.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1684" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4YDScYog2Anp8kLUMeifXiU9tggHmjvDIfanE_xYsSvdyTGmB3E6U725fZJdQZ_LBdJUVoTPYpatEQ7l3N9gO436IeDuUgj0eyfgp9WCGySRJrq8-L7aYuYbzR0wbkRRYjXVt5OgtsfmJTybtUhak3PSy7ioiaEqkKcufCQv93_kmUkElcL0TFdbquIe6/s320/Welcome-to-Oberon-Generic.jpg" width="211" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Welcome to Oberon</b></div></span><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">PG Forte<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">Omnibus One: Books 1 – 3<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><a href="https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon" style="color: #954f72;">https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon</a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Ever wish you could find a small-town love story with magic, mystery, a huge cast of characters and a happy ending? How about an entire series like that? Welcome to Oberon, California. Where murder and mysticism combine. Where the focus is always on friends, families and feelings. And where love will save the day…eventually.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;">Three connected tales of love, murder, mystery...all set in a mystical small town where anything might happen. This volume contains the first three books in the Oberon series: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;">Scent of the Roses<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;">A Sight to Dream Of<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;">Sound of a Voice That is Still.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: repeat white;">Second Chances, Friends to Lovers, Opposites Attract, Hurt-Comfort, Age Gap, Betrayal, Suspense.</span></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif36kTPBW6zJwqXnH9wm6onVquZiwD7FqN_59wgvL1qf9SrOszbhgW-4JcB4cUOo3-PqLP5Zu6GsLIVZcHkMdcQZb0odbqk6i-vTqBvD_-uEh7QJ0W5srKCGxzBe7OgII5WEZpX8M_uBbclBdHPFAR045mnnoiF7zR8u2ZHBDP0vFAcVRFEoGB_xCLNuII/s1500/81OjwCe8mNL._SL1500_.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif36kTPBW6zJwqXnH9wm6onVquZiwD7FqN_59wgvL1qf9SrOszbhgW-4JcB4cUOo3-PqLP5Zu6GsLIVZcHkMdcQZb0odbqk6i-vTqBvD_-uEh7QJ0W5srKCGxzBe7OgII5WEZpX8M_uBbclBdHPFAR045mnnoiF7zR8u2ZHBDP0vFAcVRFEoGB_xCLNuII/s320/81OjwCe8mNL._SL1500_.jpg" width="213" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Shield </b></div></span><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">Jenny Schwartz <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">Book 3 of 3: The Delphic Dame<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p></o:p></p></div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BRHLZRY4"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BRHLZRY4</span></a></div></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If Cherry was a selfish witch, she’d keep running. She’s an oracle. She KNOWS that trouble is closing in. However, there’s an instant in which she could escape, and so could those she loves. <br /><br />Too bad she’s surrounded herself with ridiculously noble allies. The kind of self-sacrificing, kind, clever, and resolute people who force you to love them…then go off to risk their lives for the greater good. Of course Cherry has to rescue them. <br /><br />And if she’s rescuing those she loves, maybe she could save everyone else along the way?<br /><br />Shield is the third and final, unmissable book in The Delphic Dame trilogy.<br /><br />Author’s note: you won’t guess the ending!</span></span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><h2 style="text-align: center;"><br /></h2></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-35701734053049479612024-01-23T03:00:00.007-05:002024-01-23T03:00:00.137-05:00Welcome to Oberon ~ New Release from PG Forte<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2iWq5MvoVKU10q1YZ3l0r2qLAcxIZfiG5rmNFp2d693MH7kE7mMnDogINCJ3Cqz3H03srj4CoGSCsKDbX8TzuJv59tHRF9jRhot7eeFlhIXOn-V1lm4Af0mzMuh1MR_hpkSLgmG2ie0qvkbBMHaeZdzg3CnIw6uv8xmY7Rq4Gi72k6wNUrrsPnX397VM/s2560/Welcome-to-Oberon-Generic.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1684" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2iWq5MvoVKU10q1YZ3l0r2qLAcxIZfiG5rmNFp2d693MH7kE7mMnDogINCJ3Cqz3H03srj4CoGSCsKDbX8TzuJv59tHRF9jRhot7eeFlhIXOn-V1lm4Af0mzMuh1MR_hpkSLgmG2ie0qvkbBMHaeZdzg3CnIw6uv8xmY7Rq4Gi72k6wNUrrsPnX397VM/s320/Welcome-to-Oberon-Generic.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><br />Welcome to Oberon<o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">PG Forte<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Omnibus One: Books 1 – 3<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><a href="https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon" style="color: #954f72;">https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon</a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Ever wish you could find a small-town love story with magic, mystery, a huge cast of characters and a happy ending? How about an entire series like that? Welcome to Oberon, California. Where murder and mysticism combine. Where the focus is always on friends, families and feelings. And where love will save the day…eventually.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;">Three connected tales of love, murder, mystery...all set in a mystical small town where anything might happen. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;">This volume contains the first three books in the Oberon series: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;">Scent of the Roses<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;">A Sight to Dream Of<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;">Sound of a Voice That is Still.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: repeat white;">Second Chances, Friends to Lovers, Opposites Attract, Hurt-Comfort, Age Gap, Betrayal, Suspense.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(15, 17, 17); font-size: 14px;">Since this is a collection of books, and since I've already posted multiple excerpts from all of them, I'm going to post the new video I made to go with the release... </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sJ4_wymikb8?si=UBOShJ3F6wz1Dnt4" title="YouTube video player" width="490"></iframe></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-55496948389758893442024-01-22T03:00:00.115-05:002024-01-22T03:00:00.188-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday January 22, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday January 22, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><i><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/01/timeless-romance-in-sci-fi-fantasy.html" target="_blank">Thursday January 18, 2024</a></i></b>: Deborah Bailey discusses second chances and reunions in her post, <i>Timeless Romance in Sci Fi & Fantasy</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBy3jV8o_rd9diMUyli84mzO45o7Bnj6KzH-hMHFtZ5GySdqr1siLtmUgyxSA2CvfavfBKzTSHfINt1xdjqCSN4XyZzFYMSXaeufGXty0FlXWIYaDP7XNOk3AXvo3NKZi7ibOqlEXhIrMez6NzOz2otESa5rqGs32Enz6M2uKGftE2_rqm-k2FtyVIZyu8/s320/NEW_RELEASE.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBy3jV8o_rd9diMUyli84mzO45o7Bnj6KzH-hMHFtZ5GySdqr1siLtmUgyxSA2CvfavfBKzTSHfINt1xdjqCSN4XyZzFYMSXaeufGXty0FlXWIYaDP7XNOk3AXvo3NKZi7ibOqlEXhIrMez6NzOz2otESa5rqGs32Enz6M2uKGftE2_rqm-k2FtyVIZyu8/s1600/NEW_RELEASE.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><h2>Available Now!</h2><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgGcEmJaccuijW68N4Req2SQ6gLG3NJ1Cd5-G9koCqaDPHFds0k58UtZZeyRULcIgyWtcv9AQpOLX7nvsooCEfuMxnb91NOPSS7QZAw0j7-ebvWhLYGWZrMmFEQQ6GZX-5OVHqS7OhtgNjMysR7ufAxl6tvQwDT3Mmy66xmwGXzoOrejdDKQITJRLJg44m/s1500/81jaADNZx8L._SL1500_.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgGcEmJaccuijW68N4Req2SQ6gLG3NJ1Cd5-G9koCqaDPHFds0k58UtZZeyRULcIgyWtcv9AQpOLX7nvsooCEfuMxnb91NOPSS7QZAw0j7-ebvWhLYGWZrMmFEQQ6GZX-5OVHqS7OhtgNjMysR7ufAxl6tvQwDT3Mmy66xmwGXzoOrejdDKQITJRLJg44m/s320/81jaADNZx8L._SL1500_.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>G8</b></div></span><o:p style="text-align: center;"></o:p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Linda Mooney</span><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The Eighth species, Book 2<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><a href="https://lindamooney.com/8thSpecies.htm">https://lindamooney.com/8thSpecies.htm</a> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face=""Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="font-size: medium;">G8 Children and the others are adjusting and learning to live freely outside of the underground bunker that they were once led to believe was normal life. They’re trying to find jobs as they scrounge for food and clothing, although the town is nice enough to help them whenever possible. But they’re determined to do it on their own, for the first time ever.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /><span face=""Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">When a fire at Docenti Labs sent everyone running, Ingrid Shyne was told to wipe the computers and get out, but she couldn’t leave the babies behind. How could anyone? She escapes with them, hiding out at her parents’ place, but she knows she can’t keep the infants forever. They’re Chimeras, created in a lab like the other “children” who escaped, and they need to be with those who understand them. When she reaches out, she’s welcomed with open arms, especially by one in particular.</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /><span face=""Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">Ingrid can’t wait to share all the firsts with G8—first love, first changing of the seasons, first holiday season, first birthday celebration. It breaks her heart that he and his family have been deprived of the joys in life she’d always taken for granted. But all of this could be taken away before they ever get a chance to experience any of it.</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1111; font-family: "Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /><span face=""Amazon Ember", Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;">The sheriff soon calls G8 up to begin work in his new deputy position and aid them in investigating the abandoned labs, along with the help of Ingrid since she worked there. But they soon realize their lives are at risk. For good reason. They’ll need everyone’s special abilities, along with local law enforcement, to protect themselves as well as the second generation of Chimeras.</span></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgorOQTnQeMDrGi8YIiQCf160-SwGttn9FxLjsHOTWwI6NhHwCa9HpSWHe6L4O1iu8FgOsXZqeoi7BIov8PdTIsR2-Cuzj3QHSMTo1IBhorrZR0CjSyMQo3ULqMXZKET7S3deMVV24XjWHdpAP_OLGfd83pvUnxmSwqQVnQhakZSM2WHR5nDiwD00caNoIE/s320/COMING_WEEK.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgorOQTnQeMDrGi8YIiQCf160-SwGttn9FxLjsHOTWwI6NhHwCa9HpSWHe6L4O1iu8FgOsXZqeoi7BIov8PdTIsR2-Cuzj3QHSMTo1IBhorrZR0CjSyMQo3ULqMXZKET7S3deMVV24XjWHdpAP_OLGfd83pvUnxmSwqQVnQhakZSM2WHR5nDiwD00caNoIE/s1600/COMING_WEEK.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Releases January 23, 2024</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4YDScYog2Anp8kLUMeifXiU9tggHmjvDIfanE_xYsSvdyTGmB3E6U725fZJdQZ_LBdJUVoTPYpatEQ7l3N9gO436IeDuUgj0eyfgp9WCGySRJrq8-L7aYuYbzR0wbkRRYjXVt5OgtsfmJTybtUhak3PSy7ioiaEqkKcufCQv93_kmUkElcL0TFdbquIe6/s2560/Welcome-to-Oberon-Generic.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1684" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4YDScYog2Anp8kLUMeifXiU9tggHmjvDIfanE_xYsSvdyTGmB3E6U725fZJdQZ_LBdJUVoTPYpatEQ7l3N9gO436IeDuUgj0eyfgp9WCGySRJrq8-L7aYuYbzR0wbkRRYjXVt5OgtsfmJTybtUhak3PSy7ioiaEqkKcufCQv93_kmUkElcL0TFdbquIe6/s320/Welcome-to-Oberon-Generic.jpg" width="211" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Welcome to Oberon</b></div></span><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">PG Forte<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">Omnibus One: Books 1 – 3<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;"><a href="https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon" style="color: #954f72;">https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon</a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Ever wish you could find a small-town love story with magic, mystery, a huge cast of characters and a happy ending? How about an entire series like that? Welcome to Oberon, California. Where murder and mysticism combine. Where the focus is always on friends, families and feelings. And where love will save the day…eventually.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;">Three connected tales of love, murder, mystery...all set in a mystical small town where anything might happen. This volume contains the first three books in the Oberon series: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;">Scent of the Roses<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 10.5pt;">A Sight to Dream Of<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: repeat white; color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;">Sound of a Voice That is Still.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><br /><br /><span style="background: repeat white;">Second Chances, Friends to Lovers, Opposites Attract, Hurt-Comfort, Age Gap, Betrayal, Suspense.</span></span></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111; font-size: 10.5pt;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="background: repeat white; font-size: large;"><b>Releases January 26, 2024</b></span></span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="text-align: start;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="text-align: start;"><br /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif36kTPBW6zJwqXnH9wm6onVquZiwD7FqN_59wgvL1qf9SrOszbhgW-4JcB4cUOo3-PqLP5Zu6GsLIVZcHkMdcQZb0odbqk6i-vTqBvD_-uEh7QJ0W5srKCGxzBe7OgII5WEZpX8M_uBbclBdHPFAR045mnnoiF7zR8u2ZHBDP0vFAcVRFEoGB_xCLNuII/s1500/81OjwCe8mNL._SL1500_.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif36kTPBW6zJwqXnH9wm6onVquZiwD7FqN_59wgvL1qf9SrOszbhgW-4JcB4cUOo3-PqLP5Zu6GsLIVZcHkMdcQZb0odbqk6i-vTqBvD_-uEh7QJ0W5srKCGxzBe7OgII5WEZpX8M_uBbclBdHPFAR045mnnoiF7zR8u2ZHBDP0vFAcVRFEoGB_xCLNuII/s320/81OjwCe8mNL._SL1500_.jpg" width="213" /></a></b></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Shield </b></div></span><o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">Jenny Schwartz <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: left;">Book 3 of 3: The Delphic Dame<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p></o:p></p></div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BRHLZRY4"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BRHLZRY4</span></a></div></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If Cherry was a selfish witch, she’d keep running. She’s an oracle. She KNOWS that trouble is closing in. However, there’s an instant in which she could escape, and so could those she loves. <br /><br />Too bad she’s surrounded herself with ridiculously noble allies. The kind of self-sacrificing, kind, clever, and resolute people who force you to love them…then go off to risk their lives for the greater good. Of course Cherry has to rescue them. <br /><br />And if she’s rescuing those she loves, maybe she could save everyone else along the way?<br /><br />Shield is the third and final, unmissable book in The Delphic Dame trilogy.<br /><br />Author’s note: you won’t guess the ending!</span></span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Are you Ready for a Snow Day?</span></h2><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIBEtvJuJidzwoS8XjRwNAERXMBRQi_Q9B1b379Mq_toMp71XCd4F3zvkZ4H7GVK6t8M6gvagAUo_dk-O2bP8UrwVXWv7tG2xV2wkP5p83hw-5RyOIVP_CONnVMcpU_zx33FFi2z0EtMvNrkdREqvvM-5S0EpMjhDwcO_bDaAVQDtPcGtjAb0bYzKUJKr/s1080/421001902_7017083281709750_5289164679392610956_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIBEtvJuJidzwoS8XjRwNAERXMBRQi_Q9B1b379Mq_toMp71XCd4F3zvkZ4H7GVK6t8M6gvagAUo_dk-O2bP8UrwVXWv7tG2xV2wkP5p83hw-5RyOIVP_CONnVMcpU_zx33FFi2z0EtMvNrkdREqvvM-5S0EpMjhDwcO_bDaAVQDtPcGtjAb0bYzKUJKr/w400-h400/421001902_7017083281709750_5289164679392610956_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">23 seasoned romance authors will be giving away books, swag and gift cards! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><a href="https://facebook.com/groups/worththewaitseasonedromancereaders">https://facebook.com/groups/worththewaitseasonedromancereaders</a></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><o:p></o:p></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMxiUg7yqv3wnL4YW8Bq-l63MMk3M_vHlzCGZV0uFmZrR8S7dlTWhhi4yRF1jihrGvMRKhGC7F_CZTFIunW4wGRgB9omaZOG2-yaE04d_zZYGBQEZh5wd2DIzFz_isa-ymyNzPrEXff7Vx9E5juLMHICcyQRRyiyHucL6HLk9BGXahdUY3oWT5jAaYJBM2/s320/BACKLIST.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMxiUg7yqv3wnL4YW8Bq-l63MMk3M_vHlzCGZV0uFmZrR8S7dlTWhhi4yRF1jihrGvMRKhGC7F_CZTFIunW4wGRgB9omaZOG2-yaE04d_zZYGBQEZh5wd2DIzFz_isa-ymyNzPrEXff7Vx9E5juLMHICcyQRRyiyHucL6HLk9BGXahdUY3oWT5jAaYJBM2/s1600/BACKLIST.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsloToYwRtOQzYYvyGLa5fP8MkKo5kJ52PwbF1VnY0ludAXXE1ijBBhjvq2vUmqFxYUWQcd9s2H2mcFbuE8EjZ2NPQeYvTaLUvITmPFl7lxuA_8KgQRhSvqS-fWWu-jYvrcb2jxJRt2J5OwiSNgCyQMBGf7X8-9lU-8IZbKTQv49qJ6aqEpisxPH_8mbHq/s2560/Sound-of-a-Voice-That-is-Still-Generic.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1684" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsloToYwRtOQzYYvyGLa5fP8MkKo5kJ52PwbF1VnY0ludAXXE1ijBBhjvq2vUmqFxYUWQcd9s2H2mcFbuE8EjZ2NPQeYvTaLUvITmPFl7lxuA_8KgQRhSvqS-fWWu-jYvrcb2jxJRt2J5OwiSNgCyQMBGf7X8-9lU-8IZbKTQv49qJ6aqEpisxPH_8mbHq/s320/Sound-of-a-Voice-That-is-Still-Generic.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Sound of a Voice That is Still<o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">PG Forte<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oberon Series: Book Three<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some wounds take a long time to heal, others never do. Four months after being wounded in the line of duty, Ryan Henderson is beginning to fear that his is of the latter variety. He's a patient man, but a poor patient. As winter drags interminably on, he's growing desperate for distraction--anything that might take his mind off his injury, before he goes insane.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Siobhan Quinn could give the injured officer a lesson or two in living with pain. It's been ten years since her life was changed and her heart critically wounded as a result of the tragic accident that robbed her of her family. She knows firsthand how grief can cripple a soul and drive a sane mind over the edge. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;">Sometimes it seems like Spring will never come again. Sometimes, the only alternative to living in inner darkness, is death. Your own, or someone else's. In the depths of winter, Ryan and Siobhan will have to make a choice: to help each other heal, or die trying.<br /><br /><span style="background: repeat white;">Friends to Lovers, Hurt-Comfort, Age Gap, Betrayal, Suspense.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Excerpt:</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #0f1111;"><span style="background: repeat white;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tuesday morning dawned foggy and cold. Siobhan stood on her porch and surveyed what she could see of the world. It wasn’t much. A dozen variations on the same gray theme, from pearl to pewter; and a damp that sank right into her bones.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Her eyes tracked the mist as it poured off the roof to pool in the air around her. It may have been a mistake to have waited for this morning’s low tide to collect the rocks she needed for today’s class. The beach would not be a fun place in this weather.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The rolling motion of the fog drew her eyes downward until a hint of bright color at her feet caught her attention. She focused on it and froze. Her breath seemed to thicken in her lungs as she stared at the pink and yellow plastic pails carelessly piled at the top of the porch steps, still crusted with sand. As though they’d only recently been left there by a couple of children after a day spent playing on the beach. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The slow, gray vapor swirled around her as she stood there, trying to stem the flood of images that formed in her mind. Trying to tear her eyes from the abandoned toys. Willing herself not to cry. Perhaps, the children would have made sand castles. And dug moats. And offered to bury their mother’s feet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Beside her, Selke whined with sudden impatience, wriggling his rump excitedly. A moment later, Siobhan heard it, too. Footsteps along the path. Coming toward her. Coming closer--<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Who’s there?” she called out, nearly jumping out of her skin when Ryan materialized out of the mist in front of her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Hey, relax. It’s just me. Here.” He thrust one of the two paper cups he was carrying towards her. “I brought you some tea.” He was dressed in a loden-green parka and he looked so solid, so dependable and substantial and safe, she could have cried from relief. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Thank you,” she mumbled as she took the tea, grateful for its warmth. She hadn’t realized how cold she was. Her teeth chattered against the plastic lid as she tried to drink it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He regarded her curiously above the rim of his own cup. “What’s the matter with you this morning? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tea splashed over her hands and down the front of her jacket. “Shit. Don’t say things like that!” she ordered, tightening her grasp on the cup.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> His gaze flicked over her, resting for just an instant on the pile of beach toys, and then returning to her face. “Oh. I bet your daughters used to play with stuff like that, huh?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> She shrugged and looked away, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. She cleared her throat. “It was just a surprise, that’s all. Finding them here like that. I wasn’t expecting it, you know?” But her voice wavered a little at the end and he was up the stairs in an instant.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Ah, Siobhan, I’m sorry.” His voice was rough with sympathy as he wrapped one warm arm around her shoulders. “But, you know, someone probably just found them on the beach last night, and didn’t know where else to leave them. Do you want me to put them away somewhere so you don’t have to look at them?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “No, it’s okay.” She shook her head. Pulling herself together, she stepped away from his warmth. “What are you doing here so early?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He chuckled softly. “I snuck a look at your tide schedule yesterday before I left. I figured you’d wait for this morning’s low tide to collect rocks.” He gazed meaningfully at the boots she was wearing. “Looks like I guessed right, huh?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> She returned his smile. “Yes. About that you did. But not if you were also guessing I’d turn down your help. In weather like this, four eyes are definitely going to be more use than two.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Well, okay then,” he said as he unsnapped his dog’s leash. He pulled a paper bag out of one of his coat’s pockets. “Let me just put this stuff inside, and we’ll go.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He stepped inside the center, the two dogs following along behind him. A minute later he was back. He closed the door behind him, and reached for one of the buckets. Siobhan felt like one of them should be saying something, but she could not find a single topic to break the silence. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Thanks again for the tea.” she said, finally, as they headed off the porch.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He smiled at her warmly. “You’re welcome.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He was walking easily at her side today, with only the slightest hitch in his gait. He’d gone for acupuncture yesterday and it looked like it was finally beginning to do him some good. But she had to smile, thinking about the expression on his face last evening, as he’d gotten ready to leave for his treatment session. For a tough guy he’d seemed awfully squeamish about the prospect of getting stuck with a few little needles. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Her smile faded a bit when she considered that it probably wouldn’t be too much longer before his leg was healed enough for him to return to work. She’d had her doubts about him at first, but she had to admit that it had been nice having his help these last few days. He was just about the best assistant she’d ever had--as long as he followed orders and kept his opinions to himself. He’d also turned out to be smart and funny. And a real treat to watch.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Whoa! Down, girl, she admonished herself, when she realized where her thoughts were heading. The man might qualify as eye candy, but he wasn’t much more than a kid. She was <i>not</i> going to turn into a cradle robber at this late date. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “So, this dinner that’s coming up, it’s this weekend, isn’t it?” His voice broke into her thoughts.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> She looked at him in surprise. “Yes, that’s right. It’s this Saturday night. Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Well, Nick says you’re the one to ask about tickets.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “You want tickets?” she asked, hoping she’d misunderstood. “Why? You’re not thinking of going, are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Well, yeah, I am. Frankly, Nick looked relieved at the idea of having a little back-up and besides, it sounds like fun. Good food, good wine...good company.” He glanced at her and smiled. “You are going to be there, aren’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Yes, but...well, you know, there’ll be dancing, Ryan. I mean, it is a dinner dance, after all, and...”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He looked faintly amused. “Are you asking me if I’ll dance with you?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “No, I was worried about your leg,” she blurted out, and could have bitten her tongue when his amusement was replaced by stark coldness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Well, don’t worry about it,” he said as he retreated into silence. “My leg is fine.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="text-align: left;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0yZ11PRCfTDkG6Fu9qyeLqWX6huhyOKzUQlUUrTfiHFBqR9Ei5-jm3jz14zncYl5kZobOTWJLDaXkPFfhxWck4jhoJCWd132mJB-nLFeGzXjfcf5p-x3_KjcU2RpsulaS1stlt82UVvergi8Z-OJNzQsziZ6s7AAHY3ffPixJZMhZ-8cyc4Kf9uwdLmnr/s5184/Depositphotos_443158898_xl-2015.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0yZ11PRCfTDkG6Fu9qyeLqWX6huhyOKzUQlUUrTfiHFBqR9Ei5-jm3jz14zncYl5kZobOTWJLDaXkPFfhxWck4jhoJCWd132mJB-nLFeGzXjfcf5p-x3_KjcU2RpsulaS1stlt82UVvergi8Z-OJNzQsziZ6s7AAHY3ffPixJZMhZ-8cyc4Kf9uwdLmnr/w200-h133/Depositphotos_443158898_xl-2015.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="text-align: left;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-21858141370529211892024-01-20T03:00:00.001-05:002024-01-20T03:00:00.252-05:00Bring It Back(list): Sound of a Voice That is Still ~ PG Forte<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsloToYwRtOQzYYvyGLa5fP8MkKo5kJ52PwbF1VnY0ludAXXE1ijBBhjvq2vUmqFxYUWQcd9s2H2mcFbuE8EjZ2NPQeYvTaLUvITmPFl7lxuA_8KgQRhSvqS-fWWu-jYvrcb2jxJRt2J5OwiSNgCyQMBGf7X8-9lU-8IZbKTQv49qJ6aqEpisxPH_8mbHq/s2560/Sound-of-a-Voice-That-is-Still-Generic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1684" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsloToYwRtOQzYYvyGLa5fP8MkKo5kJ52PwbF1VnY0ludAXXE1ijBBhjvq2vUmqFxYUWQcd9s2H2mcFbuE8EjZ2NPQeYvTaLUvITmPFl7lxuA_8KgQRhSvqS-fWWu-jYvrcb2jxJRt2J5OwiSNgCyQMBGf7X8-9lU-8IZbKTQv49qJ6aqEpisxPH_8mbHq/s320/Sound-of-a-Voice-That-is-Still-Generic.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Sound of a Voice That is Still<o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">PG Forte<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oberon Series: Book Three<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some wounds take a long time to heal, others never do. Four months after being wounded in the line of duty, Ryan Henderson is beginning to fear that his is of the latter variety. He's a patient man, but a poor patient. As winter drags interminably on, he's growing desperate for distraction--anything that might take his mind off his injury, before he goes insane.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Siobhan Quinn could give the injured officer a lesson or two in living with pain. It's been ten years since her life was changed and her heart critically wounded as a result of the tragic accident that robbed her of her family. She knows firsthand how grief can cripple a soul and drive a sane mind over the edge. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Sometimes it seems like Spring will never come again. Sometimes, the only alternative to living in inner darkness, is death. Your own, or someone else's. In the depths of winter, Ryan and Siobhan will have to make a choice: to help each other heal, or die trying.<br /><br /><span style="background: white;">Friends to Lovers, Hurt-Comfort, Age Gap, Betrayal, Suspense.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Excerpt:</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tuesday morning dawned foggy and cold. Siobhan stood on her porch and surveyed what she could see of the world. It wasn’t much. A dozen variations on the same gray theme, from pearl to pewter; and a damp that sank right into her bones.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Her eyes tracked the mist as it poured off the roof to pool in the air around her. It may have been a mistake to have waited for this morning’s low tide to collect the rocks she needed for today’s class. The beach would not be a fun place in this weather.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The rolling motion of the fog drew her eyes downward until a hint of bright color at her feet caught her attention. She focused on it and froze. Her breath seemed to thicken in her lungs as she stared at the pink and yellow plastic pails carelessly piled at the top of the porch steps, still crusted with sand. As though they’d only recently been left there by a couple of children after a day spent playing on the beach. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The slow, gray vapor swirled around her as she stood there, trying to stem the flood of images that formed in her mind. Trying to tear her eyes from the abandoned toys. Willing herself not to cry. Perhaps, the children would have made sand castles. And dug moats. And offered to bury their mother’s feet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Beside her, Selke whined with sudden impatience, wriggling his rump excitedly. A moment later, Siobhan heard it, too. Footsteps along the path. Coming toward her. Coming closer--<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Who’s there?” she called out, nearly jumping out of her skin when Ryan materialized out of the mist in front of her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Hey, relax. It’s just me. Here.” He thrust one of the two paper cups he was carrying towards her. “I brought you some tea.” He was dressed in a loden-green parka and he looked so solid, so dependable and substantial and safe, she could have cried from relief. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Thank you,” she mumbled as she took the tea, grateful for its warmth. She hadn’t realized how cold she was. Her teeth chattered against the plastic lid as she tried to drink it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He regarded her curiously above the rim of his own cup. “What’s the matter with you this morning? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Tea splashed over her hands and down the front of her jacket. “Shit. Don’t say things like that!” she ordered, tightening her grasp on the cup.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> His gaze flicked over her, resting for just an instant on the pile of beach toys, and then returning to her face. “Oh. I bet your daughters used to play with stuff like that, huh?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> She shrugged and looked away, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. She cleared her throat. “It was just a surprise, that’s all. Finding them here like that. I wasn’t expecting it, you know?” But her voice wavered a little at the end and he was up the stairs in an instant.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Ah, Siobhan, I’m sorry.” His voice was rough with sympathy as he wrapped one warm arm around her shoulders. “But, you know, someone probably just found them on the beach last night, and didn’t know where else to leave them. Do you want me to put them away somewhere so you don’t have to look at them?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “No, it’s okay.” She shook her head. Pulling herself together, she stepped away from his warmth. “What are you doing here so early?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He chuckled softly. “I snuck a look at your tide schedule yesterday before I left. I figured you’d wait for this morning’s low tide to collect rocks.” He gazed meaningfully at the boots she was wearing. “Looks like I guessed right, huh?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> She returned his smile. “Yes. About that you did. But not if you were also guessing I’d turn down your help. In weather like this, four eyes are definitely going to be more use than two.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Well, okay then,” he said as he unsnapped his dog’s leash. He pulled a paper bag out of one of his coat’s pockets. “Let me just put this stuff inside, and we’ll go.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He stepped inside the center, the two dogs following along behind him. A minute later he was back. He closed the door behind him, and reached for one of the buckets. Siobhan felt like one of them should be saying something, but she could not find a single topic to break the silence. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Thanks again for the tea.” she said, finally, as they headed off the porch.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He smiled at her warmly. “You’re welcome.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He was walking easily at her side today, with only the slightest hitch in his gait. He’d gone for acupuncture yesterday and it looked like it was finally beginning to do him some good. But she had to smile, thinking about the expression on his face last evening, as he’d gotten ready to leave for his treatment session. For a tough guy he’d seemed awfully squeamish about the prospect of getting stuck with a few little needles. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Her smile faded a bit when she considered that it probably wouldn’t be too much longer before his leg was healed enough for him to return to work. She’d had her doubts about him at first, but she had to admit that it had been nice having his help these last few days. He was just about the best assistant she’d ever had--as long as he followed orders and kept his opinions to himself. He’d also turned out to be smart and funny. And a real treat to watch.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Whoa! Down, girl, she admonished herself, when she realized where her thoughts were heading. The man might qualify as eye candy, but he wasn’t much more than a kid. She was <i>not</i> going to turn into a cradle robber at this late date. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “So, this dinner that’s coming up, it’s this weekend, isn’t it?” His voice broke into her thoughts.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> She looked at him in surprise. “Yes, that’s right. It’s this Saturday night. Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Well, Nick says you’re the one to ask about tickets.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “You want tickets?” she asked, hoping she’d misunderstood. “Why? You’re not thinking of going, are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Well, yeah, I am. Frankly, Nick looked relieved at the idea of having a little back-up and besides, it sounds like fun. Good food, good wine...good company.” He glanced at her and smiled. “You are going to be there, aren’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Yes, but...well, you know, there’ll be dancing, Ryan. I mean, it is a dinner dance, after all, and...”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> He looked faintly amused. “Are you asking me if I’ll dance with you?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “No, I was worried about your leg,” she blurted out, and could have bitten her tongue when his amusement was replaced by stark coldness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Well, don’t worry about it,” he said as he retreated into silence. “My leg is fine.”</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: left;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0yZ11PRCfTDkG6Fu9qyeLqWX6huhyOKzUQlUUrTfiHFBqR9Ei5-jm3jz14zncYl5kZobOTWJLDaXkPFfhxWck4jhoJCWd132mJB-nLFeGzXjfcf5p-x3_KjcU2RpsulaS1stlt82UVvergi8Z-OJNzQsziZ6s7AAHY3ffPixJZMhZ-8cyc4Kf9uwdLmnr/s5184/Depositphotos_443158898_xl-2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0yZ11PRCfTDkG6Fu9qyeLqWX6huhyOKzUQlUUrTfiHFBqR9Ei5-jm3jz14zncYl5kZobOTWJLDaXkPFfhxWck4jhoJCWd132mJB-nLFeGzXjfcf5p-x3_KjcU2RpsulaS1stlt82UVvergi8Z-OJNzQsziZ6s7AAHY3ffPixJZMhZ-8cyc4Kf9uwdLmnr/w200-h133/Depositphotos_443158898_xl-2015.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: left;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwMp_zra4TL9syWIdTCXjmNIMPKUcew85kt6PcXSpEauovMQADVa22aPzShjjJoyxiCmBGs7xaQ2kIaC-IY0iS_i8HbXS8Xw3GjQpp5lpSIFF3EN_sIv8i23WfHIQDHQJXhsIG9t2dgcO0Te53DAtFLozVgZ-WWmmi67Qf5zb24zaa2SZZmshtRv92po0/s2560/Welcome-to-Oberon-Generic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1684" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwMp_zra4TL9syWIdTCXjmNIMPKUcew85kt6PcXSpEauovMQADVa22aPzShjjJoyxiCmBGs7xaQ2kIaC-IY0iS_i8HbXS8Xw3GjQpp5lpSIFF3EN_sIv8i23WfHIQDHQJXhsIG9t2dgcO0Te53DAtFLozVgZ-WWmmi67Qf5zb24zaa2SZZmshtRv92po0/s320/Welcome-to-Oberon-Generic.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;">Welcome to Oberon</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">PG Forte<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Omnibus One: Books 1 – 3<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon" style="color: #954f72;">https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ever wish you could find a small-town love story with magic, mystery, a huge cast of characters and a happy ending? How about an entire series like that? Welcome to Oberon, California. Where murder and mysticism combine. Where the focus is always on friends, families and feelings. And where love will save the day…eventually.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Three connected tales of love, murder, mystery...all set in a mystical small town where anything might happen. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This volume contains the first three books in the Oberon series: <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Scent of the Roses<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A Sight to Dream Of<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sound of a Voice That is Still.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #0f1111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span><span style="background: white;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Second Chances, Friends to Lovers, Opposites Attract, Hurt-Comfort, Age Gap, Betrayal, Suspense.</span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-4181603910541160362024-01-19T17:15:00.000-05:002024-01-19T17:15:21.281-05:00New! G8, The 8th Species, Book 2 , a Contemporary Sci-Fi/Paranormal Romance by Linda Mooney<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlF8hC83poTa23hRXGKIjfGlJM64fr4e04ulbfplL_wLp0eg0-QnsRcnJ87DogLK7QmoeZ9uDiUbZW0GGl7U0rTjh3SgrHosLTgVzgVj6HZFEO6s-inJSHohsdrbduaZ7kSLTw2ZE7ApJCr4MXVDQUkYdWD8SnqSHiBxit7eX-NAd8McCxS8QKui1nwRKw/s375/g8ca%20250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="250" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlF8hC83poTa23hRXGKIjfGlJM64fr4e04ulbfplL_wLp0eg0-QnsRcnJ87DogLK7QmoeZ9uDiUbZW0GGl7U0rTjh3SgrHosLTgVzgVj6HZFEO6s-inJSHohsdrbduaZ7kSLTw2ZE7ApJCr4MXVDQUkYdWD8SnqSHiBxit7eX-NAd8McCxS8QKui1nwRKw/s320/g8ca%20250.jpg" width="213" /></b></a><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b> <i>New!</i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="auto-style61"><span style="font-size: large;">G8</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><span class="auto-style51" style="font-size: large;">The 8th Species, Book 2</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><span class="auto-style51" style="font-size: large;">Contemporary Sci-Fi/Paranormal Romance<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">by Linda Mooney<br />
</span><span class="auto-style51" style="font-size: large;">Word Count: 46.2K</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><span class="auto-style51" style="font-size: large;">$3.99 e / $10.99 p</span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>G8 Children and
the others are adjusting and learning to live freely outside of the underground
bunker that they were once led to believe was normal life. They’re trying to
find jobs as they scrounge for food and clothing, although the town is nice
enough to help them whenever possible. But they’re determined to do it on their
own, for the first time ever.</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>When a fire at
Docenti Labs sent everyone running, Ingrid Shyne was told to wipe the computers
and get out, but she couldn’t leave the babies behind. How could anyone? She escapes
with them, hiding out at her parents’ place, but she knows she can’t keep the
infants forever. They’re Chimeras, created in a lab like the other “children” who
escaped, and they need to be with those who understand them. When she reaches
out, she’s welcomed with open arms, especially by one in particular.</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Ingrid can’t
wait to share all the firsts with G8—first love, first changing of the seasons,
first holiday season, first birthday celebration. It breaks her heart that he
and his family have been deprived of the joys in life she’d always taken for
granted. But all of this could be taken away before they ever get a chance to
experience any of it. </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>The sheriff soon
calls G8 up to begin work in his new deputy position and aid them in investigating
the abandoned labs, along with the help of Ingrid since she worked there. But
they soon realize their lives are at risk. For good reason. They’ll need
everyone’s special abilities, along with local law enforcement, to protect
themselves as well as the second generation of Chimeras.</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><em>Warning: Contains no wrong moves, eggs with beans,
surviving, healing, a classic Chevy, BOOM!, and two people refusing to give up
hope for love and a life together.<br />
<br />
Excerpt and Buy Links: </em><a href="https://lindamooney.com/8thSpecies.htm">https://lindamooney.com/8thSpecies.htm</a></span> </span></b></p><p>
<br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-20111325116832702632024-01-18T07:30:00.001-05:002024-01-18T07:30:00.319-05:00Timeless Romance in Sci-fi & Fantasy<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #252f47; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Second Chance" is a
hugely popular romance trope. It can be used in any genre, but I think it
is a perfect trope for sci-fi and fantasy. And by second chance, I mean the
couples get a second chance to reunite and have a fulfilling relationship.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Characters could perhaps be magical creatures (like vampires, shifters, fae, etc.) or they could have the means to travel through
time using magic or technology.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Sure, there are multiple
themes within the Second Chance trope, but I think Reunion is a perfect theme
for these types of stories. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">You could apply this theme
if the couples have endured a long separation (possibly due to magic or some event) Or perhaps the characters were in a relationship in a previous
life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Let me give you a few
examples. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">One of the stories is
actually a Broadway musical I saw years ago (music by Elton John and production
by Disney) called <i>Aida</i>. Based on the opera, it's about an Egyptian
prince who falls in love with a captured princess. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">It begins when a modern-day couple meets by accident at New York’s Met Museum (in the Egyptian
section, of course). They meet, then the story picks up in the past to show who
they were in their previous lives.<br />
<br />
A reunion for sure. But in this case they don't remember their first meeting.
And who knows, maybe they've come back many times over the centuries to meet
again and again. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Fortunately for the couple
in the play, the story ends happily for them in the modern day (though not so
much for them in their shared past).<br />
<br />
Another story that fits this theme is from Ursula LeGuin's science fiction
novel, <i>The Lathe of Heaven</i>. It's not a romance, but it has romantic
elements. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">The hero can change the
present (and the past) through his dreams. Each time a new reality is created,
the heroine is also in it. Once she realizes that he's shifting events, she
remembers each new reality. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Unfortunately after the hero confronts the antagonist (which leads to another change in their reality) the heroine doesn’t remember the hero. But fate brings her and the hero together again and
it’s implied that she will always be part of any world he creates. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">In my romantic fantasy, <i>Blood
Red Moon</i>, the hero is a vampire who has an extended lifespan. He and the
heroine were separated as teens when their city was attacked by the antagonist.
They’re fated for each other because of magic that they can only perform
together. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252f47; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">When they reunite, centuries
have passed but the heroine’s memories have been suppressed. She has to regain
those memories before she can remember her relationship with the hero.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">No doubt the idea of lovers who always have a chance to reunite is why time travel romances are
popular. Whether through reincarnation, a portal, a magical spell or
technology, the lovers can meet again and again. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #252f47; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">When it comes to a second chance for love, these stories provide
endless ways to create a HEA that can last forever. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252f47; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Visit my site to check out
my romantic fantasy novella, <i>Blood Red Moon</i>. </span><a href="https://authordebbailey.com/worlds-of-fire-series/blood-red-moon/" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">https://authordebbailey.com/worlds-of-fire-series/blood-red-moon/</a></p>Deborah A Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07436982612393661540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-28584175318906587492024-01-15T03:00:00.032-05:002024-01-15T03:00:00.145-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday January 15, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday January 15, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2024/01/happy-new-year2023-reading-recap.html" target="_blank">Tuesday Ajuary 09, 2024</a>: Nicole Luiken offers highlights from her 2023 Reading Recap</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQXPdNvkLuJ1qkoexHml67JjtJUIBYhjW4E9_wDaFY8UC74BcFIptFeeMbW3hyphenhypheneV3X4AcpPAUuCEgfN4fO0ZoA2Ti67pw_KS-Tj2UX6mBJZ7qhDaq9qhFglYDdRH-D8ZrIEtxlfgJPny1_IeajEh4rZd8_fmhtUccAQk_w8r4oellmtmCzccnKqHfn2WC/s320/COMING%20UP3.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQXPdNvkLuJ1qkoexHml67JjtJUIBYhjW4E9_wDaFY8UC74BcFIptFeeMbW3hyphenhypheneV3X4AcpPAUuCEgfN4fO0ZoA2Ti67pw_KS-Tj2UX6mBJZ7qhDaq9qhFglYDdRH-D8ZrIEtxlfgJPny1_IeajEh4rZd8_fmhtUccAQk_w8r4oellmtmCzccnKqHfn2WC/s1600/COMING%20UP3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-W7eVRE-ddDBGL6ezIkjKhB-EuKcj2Bvc9EHmALsUdyd9g26vQFzQvwt00P3xpD6SgyM5d6DCQTpjIEb23tpEUXp9MpAhx2h3-bgrcPrpqgwhsRXHBRwMxb0y1TKvd0OmV5IguVCZitTQ93J-T7Y9QwpXIWjqSuEtJZTw_cJzZbmwBRuZODmewFJ4l-sr/s640/YOLO2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-W7eVRE-ddDBGL6ezIkjKhB-EuKcj2Bvc9EHmALsUdyd9g26vQFzQvwt00P3xpD6SgyM5d6DCQTpjIEb23tpEUXp9MpAhx2h3-bgrcPrpqgwhsRXHBRwMxb0y1TKvd0OmV5IguVCZitTQ93J-T7Y9QwpXIWjqSuEtJZTw_cJzZbmwBRuZODmewFJ4l-sr/w400-h400/YOLO2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.koboplusromancebinge.com/"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">www.KoboPlusRomanceBinge.com</span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">PG Forte is releasing the first of THREE Omnibuses for her Oberon series next week.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiOGSSIoogyuQezIlHYqch5aAJOol7bvmLc_x1ZJJUsO3ex1pYLuCWV4wh1gF-zUE8LRxd1IBx3cxsBM43-SKRhWI9lnHGqsko3zC8KPY7YhU7pbHksy8zvH-KP3gT35MPwbv-jNx6qTNPPtdo7xg5fZX8KQ2YH6YHMREdDTU1KN2ixs1BJxj1E_hrGDV/s1080/OBERONBS1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiOGSSIoogyuQezIlHYqch5aAJOol7bvmLc_x1ZJJUsO3ex1pYLuCWV4wh1gF-zUE8LRxd1IBx3cxsBM43-SKRhWI9lnHGqsko3zC8KPY7YhU7pbHksy8zvH-KP3gT35MPwbv-jNx6qTNPPtdo7xg5fZX8KQ2YH6YHMREdDTU1KN2ixs1BJxj1E_hrGDV/w400-h400/OBERONBS1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon">https://books2read.com/Welcome-to-Oberon</a></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><h5 class="font_5 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 26px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; color: #168975; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to Oberon</span></span></span></span></span></h5><h5 class="font_5 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 20px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Omnibus One: Books 1 - 3</span></span></span></span></h5><h5 class="font_5 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 22px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"></span></span></span></h5><p class="font_9 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Three connected tales of love, murder, mystery...all set in a mystical small town where anything might happen.</span></p><p class="font_9 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="font_9 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Contains the first three books of the Oberon series:</span></p><p class="font_9 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="font_9 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Scent of the Roses</span></p><p class="font_9 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; font-size: 16px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A Sight to Dream Of</span></p><p class="font_9 wixui-rich-text__text" style="background: repeat; border: 0px; margin-block: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; pointer-events: auto; text-align: start; vertical-align: baseline;"></p><div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Sound of a Voice That is Still. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Second Chances, Friends to Lovers, Opposites Attract, Hurt-Comfort, Age Gap, Betrayal, Suspense</span>.</div><p></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-15541417444728628512024-01-09T11:59:00.004-05:002024-01-09T11:59:56.597-05:00Happy New Year/2023 Reading Recap<p>I know all the Best of 2023 lists came out last month, but I can never bring myself to do them in early December because what if I read a really terrific book after the post but before the end of the year and it gets missed? (Tragedy, I tell you, tragedy.)</p><p>So, instead of a Best of list, here are some of my reading highlights from 2023:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdxgOOrM1wSvI-hEBD5Pm1dXRTDxg0ABNzFCI8J6gpw7YF5OJv_n8v6LxsRNSKy6OvBWtBlCf1CNDKEVm6kJSmPBwzuROYMDjE1vcZbza5QWspq5WTfcx-2o6GISEizsarLgdL-TxRykII3EXe9QOnH88v3S6AwlL5gA1NgLrLhHmIqOb0hVUy2OxeAd3/s1500/magictides.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="938" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdxgOOrM1wSvI-hEBD5Pm1dXRTDxg0ABNzFCI8J6gpw7YF5OJv_n8v6LxsRNSKy6OvBWtBlCf1CNDKEVm6kJSmPBwzuROYMDjE1vcZbza5QWspq5WTfcx-2o6GISEizsarLgdL-TxRykII3EXe9QOnH88v3S6AwlL5gA1NgLrLhHmIqOb0hVUy2OxeAd3/w125-h200/magictides.jpg" width="125" /></a></div><br />1/ The return of Kate Daniels! 2023 saw not one but two releases by Ilona Andrews in a new spinoff series, Kate Daniels the Wilmington years, which take place after the end of Magic Triumphs but before Julie's book. They were supposed to both be novellas, but the second one grew long enough to qualify as a short novel. It was so good to touch base with Kate and Curran again and see Conlan as a boy.<p></p><p>2/ A new fantasy release from Barbara Hambly, The Iron Princess. Hambly has been concentrating more on mystery for the last decade or so. Also, I discovered that she has a lot of novelettes featuring The Further Adventures of many beloved characters from her earlier series which were available on Kobo Plus. I indulged myself and read them all.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjow7I8_aWtQbxzZLoGheEIzNkR_jWx_r_gAh18B0urcYV2dbGV8IQjW_69EeHgaoJVroQGp2QNHU9ZA_MkvLuRVW8u_HyvddzbD8eg_aHaJiM_7xX-jjP9yAPNpdZzoFdaZbRdGKxYVm5Rz-Dl9Z5PtbrTfggZwRAERVUQ4Ca8uRFDYCTvHHF76FuzcTrk/s400/last%20watch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="261" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjow7I8_aWtQbxzZLoGheEIzNkR_jWx_r_gAh18B0urcYV2dbGV8IQjW_69EeHgaoJVroQGp2QNHU9ZA_MkvLuRVW8u_HyvddzbD8eg_aHaJiM_7xX-jjP9yAPNpdZzoFdaZbRdGKxYVm5Rz-Dl9Z5PtbrTfggZwRAERVUQ4Ca8uRFDYCTvHHF76FuzcTrk/w131-h200/last%20watch.jpg" width="131" /></a></div>3/ I discovered two new science fiction authors that I enjoy: Ren Hutchings Under Fortunate Stars and J.S. Dewes The Divide series (two books out so far)<br /><p></p><p>4/ A new DFZ series from Rachel Aaron, featuring a Changeling. These are high action, high stakes, set in a magical Detroit. Two books out so far and the final book releases Feb. 2.</p><p>5/ The Steelflower series by Lilith Saintcrow. Epic fantasy with an mercenary/thief heroine who's good with a sword, plus the Fated Mates trope. I flat-out loved the reveal about her past and how it turned out to be different than she'd perceived herself. Three books so far and the author is currently serializing book four on her Patreon.</p><p>6/ Double books from Seanan McGuire in her fabulous October Daye urban fantasy series, Sleep No More and The Innocent Sleep, both picking up after the cliffhanger from the last book and giving us viewpoint from both Toby AND Tybalt.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JpuRdjtU53CpUzrJ3IA7S6ZGTDAXcs6oi2A1yxTLzUfextw-Q30bAzgoremeBsopiHdVCLHJ_LB3kbb8I5YT2rZ5fgtEvIXY4vk5lG1Z-KsIwqqTmUAfRZk7KDx4Cn_slb1_E7Z96XnDwrO7R5ZWQXuBnheEwJ47wKEN6SCqtzk-Hm2TyOU3vDruRoZI/s1800/whisperingwood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JpuRdjtU53CpUzrJ3IA7S6ZGTDAXcs6oi2A1yxTLzUfextw-Q30bAzgoremeBsopiHdVCLHJ_LB3kbb8I5YT2rZ5fgtEvIXY4vk5lG1Z-KsIwqqTmUAfRZk7KDx4Cn_slb1_E7Z96XnDwrO7R5ZWQXuBnheEwJ47wKEN6SCqtzk-Hm2TyOU3vDruRoZI/w133-h200/whisperingwood.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />7/ A new book in Sharon Shinn's Elemental Blessings series, Whispering Wood. After reading it, I went back and reread the previous four books.. I love the combination of fantasy with a romantic subplot.<p></p><p>And that's all I have time for now! What were your highlights of the previous year?<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Nicole Luikenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11372595852638729630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-80067685486341466222024-01-01T03:00:00.039-05:002024-01-01T03:00:00.135-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday January 1, 2024<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday January 1, 2024 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/12/december-vignette-sagittarius-zodian.html" target="_blank"><b><i>Tuesday December 26, 2023</i></b></a>: Linda Mooney treats us to another vignette: </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Sagittarius the Zodian</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh992lJ8mXSKJwwCuySd9J9FKXPHu2uRJHwIEzmRCnAmxdaIDpbuesesBcWeAR5HOM3V9JXBgS3t1UYaABngC-y4AF0a6iqA9BlUJK-jTHEATQAbZxBC6Ep3_-gOQbWu0CYJvJje-mH42wplYbXMfADLM6oSlow-k6ZiIgqmLi5UxKwMf-LKMThSn2RnqLX/s320/SALE.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh992lJ8mXSKJwwCuySd9J9FKXPHu2uRJHwIEzmRCnAmxdaIDpbuesesBcWeAR5HOM3V9JXBgS3t1UYaABngC-y4AF0a6iqA9BlUJK-jTHEATQAbZxBC6Ep3_-gOQbWu0CYJvJje-mH42wplYbXMfADLM6oSlow-k6ZiIgqmLi5UxKwMf-LKMThSn2RnqLX/s1600/SALE.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It's the final day of PG Forte's 12 Days of Yule Giveaway. Today's free book is <b>Finders Keepers</b> details on her blog: </span><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.52)" face="Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.52); font-size: 14px;"><a href="https://rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com/2024/01/12-days-of-yule-day-twelve.html">https://rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com/2024/01/12-days-of-yule-day-twelve.html</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixU2sjBJmH_oh4PFgh4UK-nZZ_KgOA_GHLNJISP_RQa10-uwBIBIGbvhHEP0fCzZ-ciZBWDm_2D47cSRfPW2mMDDuu93EWW6AE7TgNk_FOEZFGQc2kIMG_aeMhDXQvrpcKrS6W139oeH1WLRnn58hHdCEnnuxxKOAFpc88xClAHw56u1LPSCrHzDixuwn/s1055/12SquareYule.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1055" data-original-width="1055" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixU2sjBJmH_oh4PFgh4UK-nZZ_KgOA_GHLNJISP_RQa10-uwBIBIGbvhHEP0fCzZ-ciZBWDm_2D47cSRfPW2mMDDuu93EWW6AE7TgNk_FOEZFGQc2kIMG_aeMhDXQvrpcKrS6W139oeH1WLRnn58hHdCEnnuxxKOAFpc88xClAHw56u1LPSCrHzDixuwn/w400-h400/12SquareYule.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieO-2-ohyphenhyphenXsBB6uCWQuHYOfgCqoFuCVMcWlhZ6mEIVpQxyMVuPESsjkUjXK2s5qs3KIPYn9jZVYuhCjmB7_hFKcrhGtH92tw5Dnm1XeYaUrPNWmsw61EIXphrdKzDOFdmCTFoDX2zQaqIBH3pTT8XMQlJaJ6tjKjSDFze-8eTksNtwvjsObVLLnsrLjHs1/s320/NEW_RELEASE.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieO-2-ohyphenhyphenXsBB6uCWQuHYOfgCqoFuCVMcWlhZ6mEIVpQxyMVuPESsjkUjXK2s5qs3KIPYn9jZVYuhCjmB7_hFKcrhGtH92tw5Dnm1XeYaUrPNWmsw61EIXphrdKzDOFdmCTFoDX2zQaqIBH3pTT8XMQlJaJ6tjKjSDFze-8eTksNtwvjsObVLLnsrLjHs1/s1600/NEW_RELEASE.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQrnccLqDpRmpK0LDuQd2PQbMq4qEszWRlu82WGf975zGD45pie-dBo9x-8IF-hwQCV2M0nJldqe1pn3F4vRLqTADZHM2-HRn3q6M6a1PXXuHLUrlwKaH02-VJOsjUpC-mitETvV9YPV5mhON_z-pNGR57xvj1yERoAKtQLAxB-BrOiiIkdvywJye43v3/s1200/Zodians800.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQrnccLqDpRmpK0LDuQd2PQbMq4qEszWRlu82WGf975zGD45pie-dBo9x-8IF-hwQCV2M0nJldqe1pn3F4vRLqTADZHM2-HRn3q6M6a1PXXuHLUrlwKaH02-VJOsjUpC-mitETvV9YPV5mhON_z-pNGR57xvj1yERoAKtQLAxB-BrOiiIkdvywJye43v3/w266-h400/Zodians800.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>New!<o:p></o:p></i></b></p><div style="text-align: center;">
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: 18pt;">ZODIANS</span><span style="font-size: 24px;"><br /></span></b><b>12 Romantic Vignettes Based on the Star Signs<br /></b><b>Paranormal/<br />Contemporary Fantasy<br />/Post-Apocalyptic<br /></b><b>by Linda Mooney<br /></b><b>Word Count: 24.2K<br /></b><b>$2.99 e / $9.99 p</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><o:p> </o:p><b>Includes:</b></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Capricorn
<span class="auto-style43">– Phillip discovers his guide is more suited for the terrain than he knew.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Aquarius<span class="auto-style43"> – Meomi inherited her family farm, only to be hit with a major
drought. </span></span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Pisces<span class="auto-style43"> – Elliot came to get his fortune read. Instead, Dorrie discovered
hers.</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Aries<span class="auto-style43"> – Thugs thought the old couple camping out would be easy prey.</span></span></b><span class="auto-style43"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-ansi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Taurus<span class="auto-style43"> – Tark saves a young heifer sent to the slaughterhouse where he works.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Gemini<span class="auto-style43"> – Lucia thought she was the last person alive after an apocalyptic
event.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Cancer<span class="auto-style43"> – Arlene offered him water on a scorching summer day, not realizing
how he would react.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Leo<span class="auto-style43"> – Linsie discovers why one particularly reclusive movie star is
considered to be “the least vain man in Hollywood”. <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Virgo<span class="auto-style43"> – Penni finds out that sometimes a minor traffic infraction can be a
good thing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Libra<span class="auto-style43"> – It has been years since Myles has met a woman so pure of heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="auto-style18" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif;">Scorpio<span class="auto-style43"> – Aria’s story about a missing child isn’t what Hart expected to hear.
Then again, she was nothing like he expected either.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="auto-style30"></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sagittarius
<span class="auto-style43">– It wasn't until an accident on a cold winter's night that
Embeth finally got to meet her neighbor.</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-weight: 700;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><span class="auto-style43">
</span></span><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span class="auto-style43">Excerpts and Buy Links: </span></span></b><a href="https://lindamooney.com/anthologies.htm" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">https://lindamooney.com/anthologies.htm</span></b></a> </div></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-10948661636925882582023-12-26T03:31:00.020-05:002023-12-26T03:31:00.132-05:00December Vignette - Sagittarius the Zodian<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ffBFieGMhpEhW5mpYMkTxAE22HvbYiAOOYHMqHqnD63iSHoQNelwRrVY7jawZknCZu5ivsV1BwA5wYbcGwL0ihDw7aM4KqgWzVTdK6x_kD4YtNiMj3KxWiiLG0Xhxs8vVwMFh668B9D2E1rJLWaG37KuBufinFW2Aj16BbiZBUkiXkxf_vH8lbV7KmcQ/s1280/sagittarius.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ffBFieGMhpEhW5mpYMkTxAE22HvbYiAOOYHMqHqnD63iSHoQNelwRrVY7jawZknCZu5ivsV1BwA5wYbcGwL0ihDw7aM4KqgWzVTdK6x_kD4YtNiMj3KxWiiLG0Xhxs8vVwMFh668B9D2E1rJLWaG37KuBufinFW2Aj16BbiZBUkiXkxf_vH8lbV7KmcQ/w200-h200/sagittarius.jpg" width="200" /></a><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">Sagittarius </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></b></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> Embeth
hurried down State Highway 5, thankful that the road was practically deserted
even though it wasn’t quite nine o’clock. The wind was already picking up,
signaling the storm front rolling in. When it arrived, the temperatures would
dip into the teens and drop more than a foot of snow. The last thing she wanted
was to get stranded out in the middle of nowhere overnight.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> If there
was something to be thankful for, the sky overhead for the time being was
crystal clear and bright. The moon was three-quarters full and on the wane. It
was one of the reasons why she loved living out here. No city lights to blank
out the panoply of stars.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> A mailbox
loomed in the distance. She noticed the name ARCHER on the side when she passed
it. “Three more miles,” she told herself. “Then I’ll be home sweet home.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> The blowout
almost threw her into a state of panic. Embeth wrestled with the steering wheel
as she pumped the brakes, hoping to keep the truck on the road. She felt the
wind spin her around before pushing her off the tarmac and into the ditch where
her pickup landed at an angle that was still somewhat right-side-up.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> It took her
several moments for her heart to stop racing as she continued to grip the
wheel, her eyes wide with shock. She knew the truck could easily have rolled
end over end and landed upside down. The windows could have blown out. She
could have been seriously injured, in spite of her wearing her seatbelt. A
hundred possibilities that didn’t occur rushed through her until she was finally
able to get a grip on herself and take deep, slow breaths.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> She was
sitting at a hard slant. The driver’s side door was jammed against the culvert’s
slope. Experimentally, she pressed down on the accelerator to see if she had
any sort of traction, but other than rocking a little, it was clear the vehicle
wasn’t going anywhere soon.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> She reached
for her purse but it wasn’t there. Turning on the interior light, she found it
wedged underneath the passenger side floorboard. After some struggling, she managed
to retrieve it, but her cell phone wasn’t inside. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> Adrenaline
continued to flood her system as she pressed her forehead to the seat. “Calm,
girl. Calm down so you can think straight. You know the phone has to be in here
someplace.” Then she remembered she could call out to it. “Hey, Bailee! What’s
the temperature?” There was no answer, and she didn’t have to guess why. “Just
my luck, I’m in a dead area.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> A shooting
star suddenly arched high above her, brightening the cab’s interior to where it
almost seemed like daylight. It quickly dimmed, leaving her in the
semi-darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> “Think,
Emmie, think. You’ve read about what to do if you get stranded.” Closing her
eyes, she took another deep breath. “I have to preserve heat, but I can’t keep
the engine running. I have to turn it off and only turn it back on at
intervals. That way the battery will last and I can manage through the night.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> There was
no way she could trudge the three or so miles to her place. On a calm night, it
wouldn’t be a problem. But with this storm coming in, the exposure alone could
kill her.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> Turning off
the engine, she also shut off the headlamps. On one hand she knew she’d be
nearly impossible to spot if someone happened to drive past her. But on the
other, she hoped she’d be able to see their headlights before then and flash
hers to alert them.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> Wind gusts
continued to rock the truck. The vehicle squeaked and shuddered like a trapped
animal. Embeth undid her seatbelt and tried to get comfortable while also being
able to keep an eye on the road.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> She must
have dozed off when another intense light blazed overhead. Staring at it, she
could almost imagine it was an arrow gliding across the heavens, leaving a
fiery trail behind it. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Tightly bundling her jacket around
her, she listened to the sound of the wind, and eventually the patter of snow
as the first flakes started hitting the glass. By that time the cab’s interior
was becoming unbearably cold. Reaching up, she was about to turn over the
engine when a man’s face suddenly appeared over the side of the windshield,
illuminated by a flashlight. Embeth screamed in fear.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The man threw up his hands, fingers
spread. “It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m here to save you!” he yelled so she could
hear him above the rising wind.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">It took her a moment before she
recognized him, or thought she did. She was about to mention it when he called
to her, “Can you start the engine?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Despite her gloves, her fingers
felt stiff, nearly unresponsive. Still, she was able to turn the key to the old
pickup. There was a grinding noise, but the motor failed to start. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The man shook his head. The fur
trim around his hood jerked haphazardly across his face and forehead. “I think
your engine stalled!” He gave the door a hard tug. “There’s no way to get you
out on this side. Can you climb over to the passenger side door?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">She nodded when in truth she was
doubtful. Still, she managed to brace her knee on the center console and
unlocked the other door by hand. The guy appeared on the other side of the
vehicle and opened it. Embeth reached up to him, and he hauled her out of the
cab. She was able to catch a glimpse of what appeared to be a horse before he
wrapped her securely in a heavy blanket.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Just get comfortable. I’ll have
you back at my place in no time.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Back at his place? She didn’t question
him but snuggled into the blanket’s folds as the man led the horse down the
road. Or rather, along the side of the road.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Wh-where’s your car?” she asked,
peering up at his strong profile. He’d tucked the flashlight inside the blanket
with her, enabling her to see him. Yet there was no illumination to show the
way. “Are we on a h-horse?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">He grinned. “You could say that. By
the way, my name’s Wright, like the brothers who flew the first airplane.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“What’s your first n-name?” <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">His chest was solid and warm.
Perfect to cuddle against. He must have sensed her feelings and cradled her
closer. “That is my first name.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Why didn’t you come in a vehicle?”
she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Roads are too slick.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Then he was out in this weather
on a horse?<o:p></o:p></span></b></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">She was aware of them passing a
gate. In the flashlight’s faint glow, she caught the name ARCHER on the side of
the mailbox. The one she’d passed earlier.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Wright took her up the short drive
and straight inside his house. It was warm and brightly lit. Taking her into
the living room, he bent over the back of the sofa to lay her on it. “I’ll only
be a minute. Make yourself comfortable.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Embeth slowly unwrapped herself
from the wool blanket and sat up when it hit her. They hadn’t gotten off the
horse, but came straight in. He rode it inside the house?<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Wright entered from another door, without
the horse. She assumed he’d come from the kitchen. He held two mugs, one of
which he handed to her. “Have some hot chocolate. It’ll chase away the chill.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">She eyed him over the rim of her
cup as she took a sip. She’d only seen him a few times. Random incidents and
spottings. Then she remembered she hadn’t given him her name.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Thank you. By the way, my name’s
Embeth.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Glad to finally meet you,” he
admitted. “I’ve seen you pass by several times. You bought the old Ackerman
place, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Actually, it’s my grandfather’s
place, on my mother’s side. My last name is Fields.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Let me guess. You inherited it?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">She snorted. She got the feeling
she could be truthful to this man. She couldn’t explain why. Same way she
couldn’t explain how she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“I got tired of living in the city,
with the high cost of living and all the crime. Thought I’d give my
grandparents’ place a try.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“So you’re not a farm girl?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">She grinned. “Hardly. Between my
inheritance and my writing, I manage to get by. I’m happy here.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“What do you write, if I may ask?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Embeth snorted. “Crime novels.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">His eyebrows went up. “Wow. Under
what name? Maybe I’ve read one.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Right now I’m working on my Fallow
Fields series under the name E.M. Strother. Strother was my mom’s maiden name.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">She was surprised to see his
expression of amazement. “I just finished ‘Beneath the Fallow Fields.’ That was
pretty damn good. You had me guessing up until the last chapter,” he confessed.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Thank you.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">After another minute or two of
comfortable silence passed between them, she set her mug on the end table.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Want more?” he offered. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“I’d like some answers, if you
don’t mind.” She tried to keep her voice low and even. She didn’t want to
irritate or make him angry at her. Not after he’d gone to all the trouble to
save her.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">He crossed his legs from where he
sat in an overstuffed chair. “What would you like to know?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“The truth.” Wrapping her arms
around herself, she faced him. “I’m grateful you saved me. I really am. I don’t
think I would’ve lasted the night out there with this storm blowing in. But how
did you find me in that culvert?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“I was passing by and spotted your
headlights.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“How? That’s what confuses me. My
place is farther down the road. I know I’d already passed your cutoff when my
tire blew.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“I told you. I spotted your
headlights before you went off the road.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“How?” She studied him. “You saw me
crash?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“No, but I heard it.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Embeth shook her head. He sounded
truthful, but it still didn’t add up. “Wright…”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">He sat up and placed his mug on the
floor by the chair’s leg. Turning to her, he gazed at her with a guarded
expression on his face. “If I tell you the truth, you won’t believe me.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“How do you know that? You don’t
know me at all,” she countered.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“You’re right. I don’t. But I can
sense things in you that make me believe I can trust you.” He bowed his head
for a moment, as if to center himself, then looked back at her. “Embeth, I’m a
Sagittarian.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">She gave him a confused look. “A Sagittarius?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Sagittarian,” he corrected. “Like
the zodiac…sort of.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“I don’t understand.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“There’s not many of us. Maybe a
couple of thousand scattered around the world. But we were…are…the inspiration
for the sign in the zodiac.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Embeth softly chuckled. “I’m not an
astrologer, but isn’t Sagittarius half-man, half-horse?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">A slow smile crossed his handsome
face, when she remembered the horse they’d ridden back here. He’d kept her
bundled, she thought to keep her from becoming more chilled, when in fact…<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“You didn’t want me to see you were
a, what? Centaur?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Wright leaned back in his chair. “I
saw your truck’s headlights in the distance. I was watching you when I saw the
taillights suddenly disappear.” He gestured to his body. “My Sagittarian body
is more resistant to this weather. I changed and went looking for you. I was
afraid you might have run off the road.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“How did you find me?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">He grinned. “I shot an arrow into
the air.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Embeth blinked, recalling the line
of fire arching across the sky. “The meteor. It was you. Both times?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Once I realized you’d wrecked, I
went back to grab my coat and a blanket. I’d hoped you’d only be able to see me
from the waist up. It was a chance I was willing to take. And, yes, I shot a
second arrow overhead in order to find your exact location.” He tilted his
head. “You believe me, but you still don’t believe me.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“You have to admit it sounds a bit
farfetched.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">He nodded. “That’s what I thought
you’d say. Excuse me for sec.” Getting up from his chair, he went over to the
doorway leading to what she thought was the kitchen. He kept his head in view
but hid the rest of his body from sight. “This won’t take long,” he promised,
and she heard the sound of what she assumed was him undoing his pants. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">His head bowed slightly, then there
was an odd clomping noise. Wright continued to watch her as he stepped through
the doorway, into the living room.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Embeth stared in shock but no
longer in disbelief at his equine half. He’d kept his long-sleeve denim shirt
on, but she could tell his human half ended at the hip.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“If you want to, you can come over
and pet me,” he half-teased. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">She got to her feet and made her
way over to him. Removing her gloves, she stroked the unbelievably soft hide. The
hard muscle underneath. “Your fur is brown, like the hair on your head.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“What? You were thinking we were
all blond Palominos?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">He was teasing her again, and she
discovered she liked his good-natured attitude. “Well, yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">He watched her examine him. “In
case you’re wondering, we’re not born this way. We look human until we’re about
twelve to eighteen months old. That’s when we begin trying to transform.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“It’s a good thing. I dread to
think what the doctors would think if you came out of your mother looking this
way.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">That made him laugh, and she found
herself liking the sound of it.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Embeth?” He reached out and took
one of her hands in his. “I’m trusting you with my deepest secret, but I know I
have nothing to worry about. I’ve been wanting to meet you. I’m sorry it had to
be under these conditions.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“I’m not,” she confessed. “I’m glad
you saved me. I’m glad you trust me. I’m glad you…” She wanted to say more, but
words failed her.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">He gave her fingers a squeeze.
“You’re welcome to spend the night. Tomorrow morning, we’ll call the tow
company to come get your truck out. Hopefully, it won’t be too difficult to
fix.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“I had a blowout.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“But there could be more damage
since you went into the culvert. Don’t worry. We’ll get it all straightened
out.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">She stared up into his big brown
eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Archer. I accept your offer.” <i>And anything
more you might suggest in the near future, </i>she silently pledged. <o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">He let out a breath as if relieved.
“Great! Now, I haven’t had supper. Have you?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Come to think of it, no. I was
planning on making a sandwich when I got home.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“How do you feel about pancakes?
I’m hungry—”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“As a horse?” she interjected,
earning more laughter from him.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“I was going to say I was hungry
for pancakes, since I sometimes have breakfast for supper, but your analogy is
quite fitting, given what we’ve just discovered,” he admitted with wide smile.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“Pancakes work for me. Show me the
kitchen.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“It’s right in there. I’ll join you
shortly. I need to put my pants back on,” he said, adding a wink.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Giving him one in return, she
smiled and went to get started on their meal.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://lindamooney.com/">Linda's Website</a></span></b></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5858828969874855814.post-13818237690662091762023-12-25T03:00:00.022-05:002023-12-25T20:35:19.812-05:00HERE BE NEWS for Monday December 25, 2023<p> </p><p> </p><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/s400/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="400" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrsInEwjar3VQ_mKpzS3H4ZyHcnjjmON1SLiyFVnWO3ndVhAmS96VnfmUmU1iFokeFGiqSKiW-no3Qia1Hh8YndfmIFuO3tWT9sbHN0hlueWIy1elXdM9LC40m20SLMKhdG0JCNVDg-Wbt-aJEBUDhdh0rY-b86zo6DJRlMAUvBYzXJlQJkPxZgmWDg/w400-h204/HERE%20BE%20NEWS%20updated%20banner%20with%20ATTRIBUTION.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><p> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">Monday December 25, 2023 </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at <i><b>Here Be Magic:</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s320/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPZhDdQDDKN3zw_rOoXvfVPKuLME21n7BEa-h9x_1lPGrRm-nJ-_IAnMSBA7o8y_PY0bmgJBJA5NPdj-rLon8ie06jTpKSoqHFp2hGaLXo-XE0wswhwD-pJE6Bb32P48gHy3k3wjXOal4-SQu1FBvoCac42Dw_0-VFNaEO6LtbyoZof1mInfCqwkPCA/s1600/FINAL%20IN%20CASE%20YOU%20MISSED%20IT%20SECTION%20TITLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Tuesday December 19, 2023: PG Forte introduces her new promo event, 12 Days of Yule, going on now. Check </span><a href="http://rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com/">http://rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com/</a> for details.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepxt73FpPFtW29v1rMGAQ531i0FXclgWAYSd-reMDolFDET2eTJat1JyFLOEiXNmZ3ebBPwWtbyFDYcGAAhMGCD8HKpMtDjpZPRPqkEsRnOrOGy1n5zvp7u00vyMPLn3poRvio6u5yWGsFVLEIwLF3d-RnVdaK8a6efhNcH-zQn_JBiOuoR0BpOpyG9LN/s1286/12Days.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1286" data-original-width="728" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepxt73FpPFtW29v1rMGAQ531i0FXclgWAYSd-reMDolFDET2eTJat1JyFLOEiXNmZ3ebBPwWtbyFDYcGAAhMGCD8HKpMtDjpZPRPqkEsRnOrOGy1n5zvp7u00vyMPLn3poRvio6u5yWGsFVLEIwLF3d-RnVdaK8a6efhNcH-zQn_JBiOuoR0BpOpyG9LN/w362-h640/12Days.jpg" width="362" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZcmB0vpvz9gvFMGHBnLBR0bZ95-7xcAwseWSs8yRexNxr1U45uLr9LLX0lHwjEY5G352Y8-JLA-qHH-gAigkJz-XgwjsBsnXHSKAb-1bUFlMGu3K0GNI-nZNTZ_BktGt0wYLGZagYiUyGZJ6ieuO_B68W2_ikETJzhrhGspNoHk5VHeOk8BJIc5fikQ1i/s320/SALE.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZcmB0vpvz9gvFMGHBnLBR0bZ95-7xcAwseWSs8yRexNxr1U45uLr9LLX0lHwjEY5G352Y8-JLA-qHH-gAigkJz-XgwjsBsnXHSKAb-1bUFlMGu3K0GNI-nZNTZ_BktGt0wYLGZagYiUyGZJ6ieuO_B68W2_ikETJzhrhGspNoHk5VHeOk8BJIc5fikQ1i/s1600/SALE.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-irsMGV0fJpLZ3PGIA0ey8XzCdE9X86V23YJ-qp7FD-XMJ7lQHCS9bO2l2EUBhfgY4HSaKg4sFWeGs4s67UTBKVvF8DuJ9d6HEkOVxhUZ1O3_0Rf0WNkCjYNtOt2u6pB6jk946em-SLthGDpxp3S4RjGIinPvE3YvRo2478a0nDMuPL5eGEarpY0Qm8gk/s1200/header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="1200" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-irsMGV0fJpLZ3PGIA0ey8XzCdE9X86V23YJ-qp7FD-XMJ7lQHCS9bO2l2EUBhfgY4HSaKg4sFWeGs4s67UTBKVvF8DuJ9d6HEkOVxhUZ1O3_0Rf0WNkCjYNtOt2u6pB6jk946em-SLthGDpxp3S4RjGIinPvE3YvRo2478a0nDMuPL5eGEarpY0Qm8gk/w400-h134/header.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Free Books! One Day Only</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://books.bookfunnel.com/freeforchristmas/r3yrev9hdh"> https://books.bookfunnel.com/freeforchristmas/r3yrev9hdh </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2S9sVf0yKfsjAIMPdlDb0aBL4PR7ra3_k-rWFnpiUH0g83RahVz-Ec20G6sRdeKO7INNGtNiD8z0G1x0VKFj14nTt086GLkLeK-Hh5ht_RBvXhC6DhwL4gbtGhZ-Ab7i4L0eGZVx3KvZpCnlv-1TOQ8pHRAbusx8dbSFva_06IKpR0yMERVK0Vc0FUV-/s320/BACKLIST.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="34" data-original-width="320" height="34" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2S9sVf0yKfsjAIMPdlDb0aBL4PR7ra3_k-rWFnpiUH0g83RahVz-Ec20G6sRdeKO7INNGtNiD8z0G1x0VKFj14nTt086GLkLeK-Hh5ht_RBvXhC6DhwL4gbtGhZ-Ab7i4L0eGZVx3KvZpCnlv-1TOQ8pHRAbusx8dbSFva_06IKpR0yMERVK0Vc0FUV-/s1600/BACKLIST.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i><b><a href="http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-lady-and-earl-by-ruth-casie.html"></a></b></i></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">So, a couple of weeks ago I ran across the following meme: </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3tFirK9VjaOB0FcTA7raezRYOk-I-SacoFPwcWHzeLYYGjEnMuvWKt5ZmVNflfw5UYqfSUcr7fSbDLzHkA4iDl2_hGwh-d-IHi_UMCUJtW5_n2SWrNiYyJsTWaFnvNsjmzqwqpAiMxaHrP0OwMdbLb75V5OlC_BUwHBsPDeXm7IRtK6f5OpNMXXTy0a4/s1200/405464693_677234364515458_1466186024404658278_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="779" data-original-width="1200" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3tFirK9VjaOB0FcTA7raezRYOk-I-SacoFPwcWHzeLYYGjEnMuvWKt5ZmVNflfw5UYqfSUcr7fSbDLzHkA4iDl2_hGwh-d-IHi_UMCUJtW5_n2SWrNiYyJsTWaFnvNsjmzqwqpAiMxaHrP0OwMdbLb75V5OlC_BUwHBsPDeXm7IRtK6f5OpNMXXTy0a4/w400-h260/405464693_677234364515458_1466186024404658278_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">And it reminded me of the following scene from <b>Light Up the Night</b> (which is going to be FREE for five days starting on Christmas day!). In this scene Heather is arguing with her sire, Marc, about who she is and isn't allowed to date. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, and in case you aren't familiar with the Children of Night/Beyond the CofN series, everyone mentioned in this post (well, not Lesley Gore, obviously) are vampires. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">This is an age gap story. For reference, Heather was a teenage runaway when she was turned (against her will) just a year or two earlier. Marc is NOT the guy who turned her, but IS her "guardian" now (long story) and super-protective. He was born in 1969--which makes him really young by vampire standards, not so much by Heather's Gen Z standards. Drew and Elise, OTOH, are both several hundred years old.</span><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“I thought you liked Drew. Aren’t you supposed to be friends, or something?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“I do like him. And of course, we’re friends. Did you really think I’d have trusted just <i>anyone</i> to look after you? I don’t like being the bad guy. I don’t like making the people I care about unhappy. But he’s just too damn old for you. There’s no getting around that.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“And how much older than you is Elise?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“That’s different.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“No, it really isn’t. It’s a double standard—and that’s not different at all.” She shook her head. “You know it’s funny. People keep talking about how we’re a new type of vampire clan. They say we’re re-writing the rules and making history, and blah, blah, blah. And I’m not seeing it. But I do like the way it sounds. And I think it’s something we could maybe lean into a little harder. And you know where a good place to start would be? If you let me make my own decisions about who I get involved with. It’s like the song says: you don’t own me.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">Marc frowned. “Wait. Did you just quote Lesley Gore at me?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“No?” Heather replied. “I don’t even know who that is.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“She was a singer. She’s dead now, but she was very popular during the sixties. That song was one of her biggest hits.” <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“Oh. Well, then maybe I did. But all I know is the song. And only that one part. I remember it from a movie I saw when I was a kid. I think the song was old <i>then</i>.” She studied him for a moment then asked, “So, you must be <i>really</i>old, huh?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“Oh, thank you very much. Not that old, no.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“If you say so.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">Marc shot her an amused look. “You know, someday, when you’re my age—which, by the way, is going to come along a whole lot sooner than you apparently think—I’m going to remind you of this conversation and ask you how old you feel then.” He shook his head and added, mockingly, “And you say you’re not a kid.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“Yeah, because I’m not,” Heather replied. “Just because I’m going to look like a kid forever doesn’t mean you get to treat me like one. We’re not living in the nineteen-hundreds anymore.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“Don’t you mean the eighteen-hundreds? Although I wouldn’t know anything about that, since I wasn’t alive back then. You know who you could ask, though—right? That’d be Drew. Because he lived through that <i>entire</i> century, not to mention the previous two. Or maybe even the previous three. I don’t know for sure.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“Nice try. But no. I said the nineteen-hundreds and that’s what I meant. Didn’t you ever see <i>West Side Story? </i>Or <i>Titanic? Endless Love? The Notebook</i>?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“Wait—are you talking about movies? I thought we were discussing real life?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;">“We are. But all those movies I mentioned were set in the nineteen-hundreds. In fact, I think they were filmed then, too. So, they’re probably reasonably accurate depictions of the idiotic notions you all had back then.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 24px; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.4in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczTAzKDo2uVfisefm91puxiw9VLipD0CXSD_eruWtWBauCfKJRHOt6M9g25oGnNTB6Q8EkbEgvkDMSf2OOWIDojy_slIUhP4RIt6839u_ESAT-o42VFZ69Gx8rjerv6zS_9t6sVgkd4Nz5v6wf30Okv-tAxXnljlb2j410eL2xTIKf9ICUt7C_mdxaaw/s200/fangs.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="125" data-original-width="200" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczTAzKDo2uVfisefm91puxiw9VLipD0CXSD_eruWtWBauCfKJRHOt6M9g25oGnNTB6Q8EkbEgvkDMSf2OOWIDojy_slIUhP4RIt6839u_ESAT-o42VFZ69Gx8rjerv6zS_9t6sVgkd4Nz5v6wf30Okv-tAxXnljlb2j410eL2xTIKf9ICUt7C_mdxaaw/s1600/fangs.png" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif" style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifetwyPIWYbwRaceNLrojDNGrmlr0nYQfDnzRJfjf0mSz0PDqXRQpCuwzjFX_2xbkUV0oqucwvXatkxLZbncft8NYxR9I0Y5Hro2mZ7vRrWa6MKhaBa2PUA8yNG6xaEg8AxaNw9yswaGsUIX62ZzmcxfTOE2vfDBCfcVG5rk_0BDjhZLIk9XEywVqexfw/s2560/Light-Up-the-Night-Generic.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1749" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifetwyPIWYbwRaceNLrojDNGrmlr0nYQfDnzRJfjf0mSz0PDqXRQpCuwzjFX_2xbkUV0oqucwvXatkxLZbncft8NYxR9I0Y5Hro2mZ7vRrWa6MKhaBa2PUA8yNG6xaEg8AxaNw9yswaGsUIX62ZzmcxfTOE2vfDBCfcVG5rk_0BDjhZLIk9XEywVqexfw/s320/Light-Up-the-Night-Generic.jpg" width="219" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">Light Up the Night</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">A Children of Night/Ugly Christmas Sweater Story<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i>Her love will light up his night. If they both can survive that long.</i> <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Heather is having the worst Christmas ever! Or, at least, the worst Christmas since she was forced to become a vampire. Her sire's distracted, her nest-mates have forgotten her existence, and a bunch of weirdos have taken over her lair. The only bright spot in her life right now is Drew--who didn't even used to like her! She knows he's coming around, but that's not good enough. She wants more. She wants everything. She wants him. And she's not giving up. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Drew Geiger gave up on love a long time ago. Such tender emotions have no place in a vampire's heart. But, somehow, the girl he once described as a "feral kitten" has got her claws in him, and she's not letting go. That would be fine, if only someone didn't want her dead--and if her sire didn't still inconveniently remember that it was Drew who'd once suggested that maybe she'd be better off that way.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">***This story features characters from the Children of Night series. It takes place between books six and seven in the series and follows Going Back to Find You.***<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://books2read.com/LightNight">https://books2read.com/LightNight</a></p></div>PG Fortehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00819909187492632526noreply@blogger.com0