WiP-It Wednesday for March 31, 2021

 PG Forte: I'm back with more new covers! These are for upcoming short stories set in my Children of Night world. I'm hoping to have at least one of these books finished by the end of the year.

Additional Scene From JEXX, a Sensuous Sci-Fi Romance by Linda Mooney

This month, I'm offering up this additional scene from JEXX, a sensuous sci-fi romance.

~ ~ ~

Throughout their existence, Govun mates have never been able to procreate. And yet, Kaxx and Jelia know they’ve been blessed with a miracle baby on the way.

However, it’s also brought about unforeseen and unexpected problems and possibilities—some of which might have hilarious consequences.

Link

HERE BE NEWS for March 29, 2021

 

                            

Monday, March 29, 2021 

Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:

                    

New!

4-Point Star
Erotic Sci-Fi Romance
by Linda Mooney
Word Count: 52.9K
$3.99 e

Being called to become part of a Gaspiel is an honor, a chance to serve in the war against the Fol’Minites and to protect the K’Stollians’ world. Four men are required to form the four-point star, each one controlling a different element of their warship—navigation, weapons, engine, and the captain. But the most important element and hardest to find is their fifth, their Visl—their strength.

When Ensign Sienna Pratt finds out she is called to be a Gaspiel, she sees it as an opportunity to learn about a system no one knows anything about, and she agrees. She knows the K’Stollian ships are different. They don’t run on fuel, have no material for weapons, they are completely bio-dispensing organisms. Basically, the ships convert the endorphins released during sex into power to run their systems, and that’s where Sienna would come into play. Not knowing exactly what she’s signing up for, she’s willing to take the risk to help the people and the planet. But when it comes time to fulfill her obligations, can she give herself over?

The crew quickly learns that Sienna is not your average Visl, and she will not take things lying down. She is not merely there to service the men, she's determined to prove her worth. The war has been raging for centuries, but now it’s a battle for the K’Stollians’ existence. Someone is sabotaging them and wants to wipe out their entire species, but who? The Gaspiel know there is strength in numbers, but whom can they trust?

To make matters worse, rule number one is not to let your emotions become involved, but when it comes to the four males who've claimed her body, that quickly proves impossible.

Warning: Contains recharged batteries, two ports of entry, a two-year commitment, lumpy seats, miracle soothing cream,  unexpected food additives, a dead language, a plot to destroy an entire civilization, and a woman battling her heart for the love of four men--one especially.

Excerpt and Buy Links

Tuesday March 23, 2021: PG Forte muses about some of her fictional worlds

New Worlds and Old

 This has been an interesting month for me, writing-wise. On the one hand, I've been working on the reboot of my first series, Oberon. On the other, I've been planning out three new books in my newest series, Games We Play. Oberon is a small, fictional, coastal town in California, where I've spent most of my adult life. Games we play is set in Atlas Beach--a small, coastal town in New Jersey, where I grew up. The two worlds may sound similar, but they're really not. And that's mostly down to me. I'M what's different. There's a big gap between the writing of the two series, and an even bigger gap between now and the last time I lived in, or spent a significant amount of time in, Jersey. I'm not the same person I was when I first wrote Oberon. I'm really not the same person as I was back when I identified as a Jersey Girl.

The oddest thing, though, is how I  feel about these two fictional places. I feel more nostalgic for Oberon. It strikes me as a more comfortable place. It's a simpler place, more affluent. It feels safer, somehow. And yet...the series is romantic suspense, with murders (or attempted murders) taking place in eight out of nine books. And people have conversations like this: 

“Damn it, boys," Marsha seethed. "That’s the third time this month you’ve left your key. And the month’s only half over! What is going on, with you guys, anyway? You never used to be this forgetful.”

“Oh, sure we were. It’s just that Jasmine was usually around to let us in,” Jesse explained, smiling sweetly.

“You know, Mom,” Frank looked from his work again, and fixed her with a look too eerily like his dad’s for Marsha’s comfort. “Most people don’t even bother locking their doors. So, you know, they never have these problems.”

“No, they just have problems with being burglarized. Or-- or murdered in their beds, or something! And most people do too lock their doors,” she snapped at him. “Even here in Oberon. And definitely anywhere else in the state.”

Still, to me, Oberon will always feel like this:

[Scout] had filled the bird feeders early that morning in a fit of enthusiasm, and now, what seemed like dozens of house finches darted and swooped across the yard. Two of the cats sat motionless on the deck, watched them through slitted eyes. The gardens, always lush with flowers anyway, positively shimmered as the slanting rays of the sun glinted off the wings of the butterflies and hummingbirds that fluttered around the blossoms. The mingled scents of honeysuckle, jasmine and rose was almost overpowering.

To the left of the yard rose the dark, graceful woods, through which she used to travel back and forth to school. And in the distance, partially obscured, a sliver of ocean view could be glimpsed – sparkling, pure shot silver –between the large, old bay laurel trees that bordered the property line at the back.

It was impossibly romantic, Scout thought, with a flash of irritation. It was completely, totally and unfairly romantic with the golden sun gilding everything it touched, the soft sounds of bird calls, the perfumed air. And Nick. Looking so impossibly good.

 

Atlas Beach, is edgier. The town has fallen on hard times. It's less affluent than it used to be--that's for certain.  And even though I have no plans for murder or mayhem, I don't think anyone in Atlas Beach will be leaving their doors unlocked any time soon! 

The first three books in the Games We Play series are available now.  You can read more about them here: https://www.pgforte.com/games-we-play

The Oberon series  isn't available, at the moment, but I  do have one Oberon crossover novella available on Amazon.

In Waiting For The Big One, Gabby and Derek went from being friends to being lovers. Now, they're waiting for their "big day". But will it be the wedding of their dreams? Or a bride's worst nightmare?

A quick trip to Gabby's hometown turns into the wedding from hell when Gabby and Derek are plagued by hailstorms, lost reservations, voracious goats, angry bees and enough family drama to fill a barn.

Guess it's true what they say, "The course of true love never did run smooth." But can the happy couple hold it all together, or will their Big Day turn into a Big Mess?

​ ***A different version of this book was previously released as part of the Sapphire Falls Kindle World program.***

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07SF7MD54

There's also an Oberon prequel novella, Such Fleeting Pleasures, that you can get for FREE when you join my FB reader group, The Crone's Nest! 

Love wasn't always strawberries and cream for Lucy and Dan Cavanaugh...or was it? In this Oberon prequel, we travel back in time to see how it all began.

​ Most of the material in this prequel novella (set some eighteen years before the series begins) also appears as flashback scenes in A Taste of Honey.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheCronesNest

HERE BE NEWS for Monday March 22, 2021

 

                            

Monday, March 22, 2021 

Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:

                  

Title: Space Baby 

Series: Interstellar Sheriff 

Author: Jenny Schwartz 

Release Date: March 22, 2021 

Four years ago, Thelma Bach thought she’d lost everything when she was exiled to the Saloon Sector. She was wrong. Life on the frontier has given her the galaxy’s best—if sometimes most stubborn—husband, the cutest ever baby boy, an adolescent AI who thinks of Thelma as her mom, and the most loyal, loving and meddlesome group of family and friends anyone could wish for. 

But when her son’s life is threatened, Thelma’s perfect world comes crashing down. 

The galaxy will learn that there’s no force in the universe as powerful as a mother determined to save her child. The Badstars will tremble. Murderous truths will be revealed. And one special baby will find his voice. “Ma?”

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Space-Baby-Interstellar-Sheriff-Book-ebook/dp/B08VVX9NH7/

Tuesday March 16, 2021: Deborah Bailey discusses Cover Design Options for Authors.

Thursday March 18, 2021: Maureen Bonatch asks "Do your pets talk to you?"

The following excerpt is important to me because this was the scene that made me realize what the theme of the Oberon series was. Family. I was writing about family. Nick has one, Scout wants one, together they make one.

You might think the theme is food. But it's not... 

Scent of the Roses
Oberon, Book One
by PG Forte
Paranormal Romance/Romantic Suspense

This title is currently out of print.

Blurb:

For years, Scout Patterson has tried to run from the mistakes in her past. Now, she's coming home--to face the ghosts she's never laid to rest, and the love she thought she'd lost forever. Reawakening that love would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, love is not the only emotion that can last forever. ​

 Memories and dreams are the only things that have gotten Nick Greco through the past twenty years. Memories of the girl he loved and lost, and dreams of what his life would be like, if he could only find her again. And if he can bring himself to believe that anything she tells him is true. 

 Can the star-crossed lovers put aside the hurt and distrust they still harbor toward each other? Or will the evil which already nearly destroyed them once, triumph yet again?

Excerpt:

The smell of sautéed onions, of garlic and basil and green peppers and other fragrances she couldn’t identify brought Scout back to the present. On the stove, steam rose from a large pot of water. The contents of two saucepans sizzled. Nick stood at the counter next to the stove, chopping basil. 

 “Hey.” He smiled at her over his shoulder. “We’re almost there, don’t fall asleep yet, okay?” 

Scout nodded weakly, but then decided conversation might be the only way to focus her attention. “You really look like you know what you’re doing over there. I’m impressed. I didn’t know you could cook.” 

Nick flashed an amused grin at her. “Well, of course I can cook.” 

“Why of course? Lots of people can’t, or don’t, cook. I can’t.” 

“That’s not the point, is it? You’re not Italian.” He sprinkled the basil into one of the pans and then stirred, with a graceful twisting motion of his wrist. 

 “Oh.” Scout thought about that. “You mean, it’s like a cultural thing?” 

“Nah, I think it’s more...oh, I don’t know...genetic, I guess.” 

“Genetic? So, you’re saying anyone with Italian blood in their veins can cook?” 

“Pretty much.” He bent to open the oven door and removed a fragrant, crusty loaf of bread, which he quickly deposited into a cloth-covered basket. Then he slid the basket across the table towards Scout, along with a small bowl of warm olive oil to which a clove of garlic, crushed red pepper, and several sprigs of fresh rosemary had been added. “At least, we all think we can. Here, why don’t you start with that.”

 “You don’t mean that you all cook well, though, do you?” Scout broke the bread apart, and dipped a piece into the fragrant oil. The taste revived more than her energy, she felt her heart warming within her. She’d had no idea she was so cold. 

Nick had gone back to chopping––sun-dried tomatoes, this time––which he added to the mixture cooking in the other pan. “Absolutely. You can’t really call it cooking if it’s something no one wants to eat, right? The real secret, however, is that each of us, in our heart of hearts, believes not just that we cook well, but that we cook better than just about anyone else. At least certain, special dishes, we do. I think that’s why Italians tend to eat at home so much. Why pay for someone else’s mediocrity?” 

“So, is Lucy a good cook, too?” 

“Of course. Case in point. She makes a minestrone that even my mother can’t touch. But, you know, she’d pretty much have to be good with herbs and vegetables and stuff, anyway, being married to Dan. If you want to taste something really special, get her to fix you some of her homemade, tri-color gnocchi with pesto sometime.” He flicked the heat off under both pans and tilted the contents of the pot into a strainer in the sink. Steam rose to envelope him. 

 That’ll be the day, Scout thought as she shook her head. “I don’t know, Nick. I can’t really see Lucy jumping at the opportunity to fix me dinner. Unless maybe it was for a going away party.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Nick said, smiling to himself as he assembled everything onto two plates, which he then carried to the table. “One of these days, you know, she just might surprise you.” 

 He set the food down with a flourish, and slid into the chair across from her. The plate in front of Scout had been piled high with multicolored pasta bows in a delicate basil cream sauce, tossed with a mixture of red and green peppers, onions, broccoli, yellow zucchini, sun-dried tomatoes, and cubes of grilled chicken. All topped with more basil and paper-thin slices of Parmesan cheese. “It smells wonderful.” 

 Nick watched with amusement as she inhaled the fragrances greedily. “Yeah, but it tastes even better. Mangia!” 

“So,” she asked, between mouthfuls. “Is this one of those special dishes that you cook better than anyone else?” 

“Nah,” he answered with a grin. “This is just what you get when you throw a lot of leftovers together. It’s nothing really, just a snack.” 

Scout looked at him curiously. “So, what’s the deal with you and Lucy? I know you’re cousins, and all, but she seems awfully worried about you.” 

“Well, we’re double first cousins, that might have something to do with it."    

“Double first cousins? What does that mean?” 

“My mother and her mother are sisters, and her father and my father were brothers. Plus, for a while, after my father died, I practically lived with her and her family.” 

“Sounds like you’re all pretty close.” 

 Nick nodded. “Yeah, we are.” 

“You’re lucky.” 

“You keep telling me that,” he observed, grinning wryly. 

“And you don’t think you are?” 

“I guess I am.” He shrugged. “Luckier than my daughter, anyway. What does she have in the way of family?” 

Scout stared at him, surprised by the bitterness in his tone. “Oh, come on, I know something about families, too, you know. Especially ones that don’t work. I saw your daughter with her cousins. She knows she’s loved. She’s got you and she’s got her mother, and even if you aren’t living together, it’s still better than being abandoned.” 

He nodded. “I know you’re right. And I know it’s gotta be better for her now then it was when Lauren and I were together; although, there are plenty of people who’d maybe tell you otherwise.” Nick’s voice was harsh. It pained her to hear it. “But still, it’s not what I wanted for Kate.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Ah, it was just a mistake, that’s all. As Lucy would probably be the first to tell you.” He shook his head, thoughtfully. “She says I make a lot of them.”

Bring It Back(list) Scent of the Roses by PG Forte

The following excerpt is important to me because this was the scene that made me realize what the theme of the Oberon series was. Family. I was writing about family. Nick has one, Scout wants one, together they make one.

You might think the theme is food. But it's not... 

Scent of the Roses
Oberon, Book One
by PG Forte
Paranormal Romance/Romantic Suspense

This title is currently out of print, BUT I'm in the process of re-booting the entire series. Join my FB group for updates: 

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheCronesNest

Blurb:

For years, Scout Patterson has tried to run from the mistakes in her past. Now, she's coming home--to face the ghosts she's never laid to rest, and the love she thought she'd lost forever. Reawakening that love would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, love is not the only emotion that can last forever. ​

 Memories and dreams are the only things that have gotten Nick Greco through the past twenty years. Memories of the girl he loved and lost, and dreams of what his life would be like, if he could only find her again. And if he can bring himself to believe that anything she tells him is true. 

 Can the star-crossed lovers put aside the hurt and distrust they still harbor toward each other? Or will the evil which already nearly destroyed them once, triumph yet again?

Excerpt:

The smell of sautéed onions, of garlic and basil and green peppers and other fragrances she couldn’t identify brought Scout back to the present. On the stove, steam rose from a large pot of water. The contents of two saucepans sizzled. Nick stood at the counter next to the stove, chopping basil. 

 “Hey.” He smiled at her over his shoulder. “We’re almost there, don’t fall asleep yet, okay?” 

Scout nodded weakly, but then decided conversation might be the only way to focus her attention. “You really look like you know what you’re doing over there. I’m impressed. I didn’t know you could cook.” 

Nick flashed an amused grin at her. “Well, of course I can cook.” 

“Why of course? Lots of people can’t, or don’t, cook. I can’t.” 

“That’s not the point, is it? You’re not Italian.” He sprinkled the basil into one of the pans and then stirred, with a graceful twisting motion of his wrist. 

 “Oh.” Scout thought about that. “You mean, it’s like a cultural thing?” 

“Nah, I think it’s more...oh, I don’t know...genetic, I guess.” 

“Genetic? So, you’re saying anyone with Italian blood in their veins can cook?” 

“Pretty much.” He bent to open the oven door and removed a fragrant, crusty loaf of bread, which he quickly deposited into a cloth-covered basket. Then he slid the basket across the table towards Scout, along with a small bowl of warm olive oil to which a clove of garlic, crushed red pepper, and several sprigs of fresh rosemary had been added. “At least, we all think we can. Here, why don’t you start with that.”

 “You don’t mean that you all cook well, though, do you?” Scout broke the bread apart, and dipped a piece into the fragrant oil. The taste revived more than her energy, she felt her heart warming within her. She’d had no idea she was so cold. 

Nick had gone back to chopping––sun-dried tomatoes, this time––which he added to the mixture cooking in the other pan. “Absolutely. You can’t really call it cooking if it’s something no one wants to eat, right? The real secret, however, is that each of us, in our heart of hearts, believes not just that we cook well, but that we cook better than just about anyone else. At least certain, special dishes, we do. I think that’s why Italians tend to eat at home so much. Why pay for someone else’s mediocrity?” 

“So, is Lucy a good cook, too?” 

“Of course. Case in point. She makes a minestrone that even my mother can’t touch. But, you know, she’d pretty much have to be good with herbs and vegetables and stuff, anyway, being married to Dan. If you want to taste something really special, get her to fix you some of her homemade, tri-color gnocchi with pesto sometime.” He flicked the heat off under both pans and tilted the contents of the pot into a strainer in the sink. Steam rose to envelope him. 

 That’ll be the day, Scout thought as she shook her head. “I don’t know, Nick. I can’t really see Lucy jumping at the opportunity to fix me dinner. Unless maybe it was for a going away party.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Nick said, smiling to himself as he assembled everything onto two plates, which he then carried to the table. “One of these days, you know, she just might surprise you.” 

 He set the food down with a flourish, and slid into the chair across from her. The plate in front of Scout had been piled high with multicolored pasta bows in a delicate basil cream sauce, tossed with a mixture of red and green peppers, onions, broccoli, yellow zucchini, sun-dried tomatoes, and cubes of grilled chicken. All topped with more basil and paper-thin slices of Parmesan cheese. “It smells wonderful.” 

 Nick watched with amusement as she inhaled the fragrances greedily. “Yeah, but it tastes even better. Mangia!” 

“So,” she asked, between mouthfuls. “Is this one of those special dishes that you cook better than anyone else?” 

“Nah,” he answered with a grin. “This is just what you get when you throw a lot of leftovers together. It’s nothing really, just a snack.” 

Scout looked at him curiously. “So, what’s the deal with you and Lucy? I know you’re cousins, and all, but she seems awfully worried about you.” 

“Well, we’re double first cousins, that might have something to do with it."    

“Double first cousins? What does that mean?” 

“My mother and her mother are sisters, and her father and my father were brothers. Plus, for a while, after my father died, I practically lived with her and her family.” 

“Sounds like you’re all pretty close.” 

 Nick nodded. “Yeah, we are.” 

“You’re lucky.” 

“You keep telling me that,” he observed, grinning wryly. 

“And you don’t think you are?” 

“I guess I am.” He shrugged. “Luckier than my daughter, anyway. What does she have in the way of family?” 

Scout stared at him, surprised by the bitterness in his tone. “Oh, come on, I know something about families, too, you know. Especially ones that don’t work. I saw your daughter with her cousins. She knows she’s loved. She’s got you and she’s got her mother, and even if you aren’t living together, it’s still better than being abandoned.” 

He nodded. “I know you’re right. And I know it’s gotta be better for her now then it was when Lauren and I were together; although, there are plenty of people who’d maybe tell you otherwise.” Nick’s voice was harsh. It pained her to hear it. “But still, it’s not what I wanted for Kate.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Ah, it was just a mistake, that’s all. As Lucy would probably be the first to tell you.” He shook his head, thoughtfully. “She says I make a lot of them.”

When You Talk to the Animals

By Maureen Bonatch 

Does your pet talk to you? Mine does. Well, at least I think he does. I not only spend much of my day talking to him when I’m home alone, I also occasionally answer for him. I’m not referring to Zoolingualism, or imitating animal sounds (although he does seem to try to occasionally send me mental messages). I mean I act as if he is answering as a person would. Well, a small, furry, person. 

Some part of me thinks I know what he has to say. Unfortunately for Scruff, he can’t really confirm that the responses I provide for him are accurate. Instead he stares silently at me with his big, brown eyes desperately trying to give me a message (or wondering why his Mom is so…odd). 

I can probably safely assume that the majority of the time that message is that he’d like another treat, or that he wants to go outside. But I’ve taken it upon myself to imagine that he has much more to say if he could only convey it in more than pointed stares and huffs (he’s not much of a barker). 

 I’ve found that if I mention this to others who have pets that they often agree that they talk to their pets. I don’t always ask if they answer for them as well. 

I’ve also taken the liberty of providing my tiny dog that has been noted to resemble a stuffed animal with a deep, masculine voice with a little bit of a southern accent. Why? That I can’t answer. I guess he kind of gave me the impression that since he’s a little guy with a lot of attitude who is terrified of almost everything—including the occasional leaf if it touches him—that he’d want to portray a tough image. I also assume he’d never forgive me if I gave him a high, squeaky voice to accompany his fuzzy cuteness that often gets him mistaken for a girl. 

The southern accent? I have no idea. It just came to me as part of his ‘character’. Speaking of characters, mine always come with a pet or animal sidekick. Often I base the character of the animal, and sometimes the name, on animals I know, or have known. 

A few include: 

• Evil Speaks Softly- Mozart (dog) 
• Destiny Calling- Tercet (cat) 
• That Magic Moment- Juniper (cat) 

I’ve taken this relationship a step further with my upcoming paranormal cozy mysteries and provided the ability for my character to communicate with her pet, and that the animal can actually communicate back—magic has it's benefits! I’ll share more about these stories in the coming months. 

 So tell me, do you talk to your pets? If so, do they answer back? 

 P.S.- I’m teaching an online Self-Care Course for Fantasy, Future & Paranormal (FF&P)- Romance Writers in April - Find out more info and sign up right here  

I may not be able to offer you the ability to do magic, but spending more time taking care of ourselves can certainly feel pretty magical.

 

Author Bio: Maureen Bonatch grew up in small town Pennsylvania and her love of the four seasons—hockey, biking, sweat pants and hibernation—keeps her there. While immersed in writing or reading paranormal romance and fantasy, she survives on caffeine, wine, music, and laughter. A feisty Shih Tzu keeps her in line. 

Find Maureen on her website, Facebook & Twitter Be the first to know about Maureen’s book sales and new releases by following her on BookBub, Amazon and/or signing up for her newsletter