Thursday, April 30, 2015

The Blood of the Land: A Warder universe ghost story

Posted by: Angela Korra'ti
As urban fantasy goes, my Free Court of Seattle series isn’t particularly gritty—although Bone Walker has some darker themes than Faerie Blood does, and I’ve got some long-term plot plans that will go in darker directions. But by and large, the series skews to brighter and more upbeat action, much like the sorts of books I like to read. There are reasons, after all, that I tell people that the Free Court of Seattle series is my “music, magic, and computer geekery” series. Those are the things I like to emphasize.

But that said, there are darker themes and darker questions to explore in the Warder universe. And my short story “The Blood of the Land” gets into one of those questions, namely: if a Warder is magically constrained to remain on his or her land, what happens when the magical connection to the land is tainted?

 “The Blood of the Land” was originally published by Drollerie Press, in the Civil War anthology Defiance. It picks up in media res with the escaping slaves Dorcas and Caleb, as they’re fleeing northward through Kentucky with the help of the Underground Railroad. They’re in search of a particular barn that’s supposed to be their next stop, only to discover that the men hunting them have beaten them there. And they’ve shot the couple who owns that farm, Elias and Jenny Sutherland.

All of which is a pretty dark setup for a story. But as this is the Warder universe, there’s more going on. Elias and Jenny are in fact Warders. And Dorcas herself has power—she’s a powerful healer, a gift that makes the son of her master determined to get her back at any cost.

If you’re thinking this sounds similar to the setup for my character Faanshi in Valor of the Healer, you’re not wrong. But hey, I like writing powerful healer characters. And I wanted to introduce another source of power into the Warder universe as well—namely, Yoruba mythology. Dorcas is a follower of Inle, one of the orisha in the Yoruba religion, and from him she derives her healing power. You can read more about Inle here and here.

What happens to Dorcas and Caleb—not to mention Elias and Jenny—well. If you want to find that out, come read the story! Its official page is here on my site. And of particular note, I have the story available for “reader sets price” on Smashwords—including free! Everywhere else, including Amazon, it’s available for 99 cents. So check it out. This is the first ghost story I’ve ever written, and the first historical story I’ve written for the Warder universe. I’m very happy to make it finally available again.

As Angela Highland, Angela writes the Rebels of Adalonia epic fantasy series for Carina Press. And as Angela Korra'ti, she writes the Free Court of Series urban fantasy series. Come say hi to her at, or follow her on Facebook or Twitter.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Home Beautiful

Posted by: Jenny Schwartz
It's research, all right? I look at houses and interior design pages and generally dream about places I could never afford to live in not because I'm a hopeless procrastinator, but because my writing demands it. No, really.


I'm not convincing anyone, am I? The truth is, I flat out adore looking at the clever buildings people have created. So I thought I'd do a post sharing some of my favourite inspirational sites:

Tiny Houses Blog - for life lived small and beautiful.

Coastal Living - they have fabulous, fabulous beach-y photos.

Wooden Boats - actually I don't follow this site, but maybe I should.

Home Edit - lots of cool and do-able ideas.

and here's one for the dreamer in all of us Luxury Real Estate.

So, do you have any house/design sites that you have to follow?

I also have a stash of architecture and design books. Hmm, maybe I am a tad obsessed :)

PS I also recently found an island I'd like to buy. Any billionaires feeling generous? Petra Island.

Monday, April 27, 2015

Here Be News

Posted by: Unknown
Jeffe Kennedy's Petal and Thorns has a new cover!

A BDSM take on the classic Beauty and the Beast fairytale, this award-winning novella tells this story:

Petals & Thorns

In exchange for her father’s life, Amarantha agrees to marry the dreadful Beast and be his wife for seven days. Though the Beast cannot take Amarantha’s virginity unless she begs him to, he can and does take her in every other way. From the moment they are alone together, the Beast relentlessly strips Amarantha of all her resistance.            

If Amarantha can resist her cloaked and terrifying husband, she gains his entire fortune and will be allowed to return to her family and a normal life. But the Beast seduces her at every turn, exposing, binding, tormenting, and pleasuring Amarantha until she no longer knows her own deepest desires. Increasingly desperate to break the curse that chains his humanity, the Beast drives Amarantha past every boundary. But her desire for a normal life may jeopardize the love that will save them both.

Also, Jeffe Kennedy's upcoming release, The Talon of the Hawk, garnered a Top Pick review from RT Book Reviews!

The third book in her Twelve Kingdoms series elicited this response:

“The saga of The Twelve Kingdoms returns in grand style! It takes a great deal of trust for Ursula to accept that Harlan is interested in her as a woman; his position as a mercenary means he’s skilled at playing courtly games. She’s always possessed a physical strength, so it’s beautiful to watch her accept her own personal power, as a woman and as a daughter of Salena, even when her stubbornness gives you fits. Harlan is her perfect match because his talent at observation allows him to see beyond the tough warrior image she employs to avoid showing her feelings. This is a complex world full of danger, subterfuge and secrets with empowering female characters who are not afraid to fight for their future.”

RT Book Reviews, 4.5 Stars Top Pick

More Epic Fantasy
Veronica Scott's most recent column for USA Today Happily Ever After focused on the epic fantasy romance genre. Jeffe Kennedy and Eleri Stone of HBM were among the interviewees on what the appeal of epic FR is for authors and readers, as well as sharing recommendations for more reading. Other authors featured in the article include Grace Draven and Dana Marton.

You can find the article here:

(Veronica is also a Here Be Magic author.)

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Switching Genres

Posted by: Janni Nell

My last paranormal, the final book in a series of five, was published in 2013. You’d think I’d be glad to finish but I really missed Allegra, my paranormal investigator, and Casper, her hot guardian angel. So much so that I struggled to find new characters and begin another paranormal series. Everything I came up with felt wrong. I needed something new, different. I’d always loved fun chick lit mysteries so in 2014 I started writing one. That one turned into a series of three novellas. Here’s an interview with the heroine Sassy Chance.

Janni Nell: What was your life was like growing up?

Sassy Chance: I was an only child in a single-parent family. Mom was always a little off-beat, so it was no surprise when she dumped me with Great-Aunt Gracie and ran off to join the circus. Poor Gracie. I was fifteen and well on my way to turning rebellion into an art form. But I hadn’t counted on how tough my great-aunt could be. I’ll always be grateful that she never gave up on me. If I amount to anything in life, it’s all down to her.

JN: Is Sassy your real name?

SC: Unfortunately, yes. My mom is off-beat, remember? I think she was hoping I’d live up to it. I’m sure I’ve disappointed her.

JN: You also have an interesting middle name.

SC: Well, I don’t talk about it much. People think I’m kidding. Or worse, they laugh. My middle name is actually my mom’s maiden name. Okay, it’s Dainja (pronounced danger). Feel free to chuckle.

JN: How would you describe your personality?

SC: Oh, I don’t know...  My best friend says I’m brave, caring and loyal, but she’s just being nice.

JN: What one thing would you take to a deserted island?

SC: Since Devlin Fox is a person not a thing, I guess I can’t say him, so it would have to be my favorite pair of designer shoes. I know, I know, they’d be totally useless. But they’re pretty and they remind me of Great-Aunt Gracie.

JN: Where would you go on vacation?

SC: Anywhere I could afford. So there won’t be any vacations in my immediate future.

JN: What is your major skill or talent?

SC: This is kind of depressing, but my only real talent is for getting in trouble. I mean I just seem to attract it. The Queen of Bad Luck that’s me.

JN: Do you have any hobbies?

SC: Not unless you count shopping.

JN: You sell shoes, if you had to pick another career, what would it be?

SC: Don’t tell Devlin, but I’d like to do what he does. He’s a sort of P.I.—unlicensed—and he’s great at martial arts. Of course, I have no skills that would be useful for a P.I. and as for martial arts... Don’t make me laugh. I trip over my own feet.

JN: What’s your favorite color?

SC: I like most colors. I don’t really have a favorite.

JN: Favorite food?

SC: Salad. That’s weird, right?

JN: What are your future plans?

SC: My immediate future will involve looking for another job. Knowing my luck, things won’t go smoothly.      

JN: Thanks Sassy, it’s been great interviewing you.

SC: Hang on a minute. I’ve got a question for you. Now that you’ve written my story, what are your future plans?

JN: I’m working on a new paranormal. That’s all I can say at the moment because I’m a pantser and even I don’t know what it’s about yet.

The first Sassy Chance novella The Bride, The Groom & Me is FREE at:
Amazon          Kobo        
iBooks       Google

Saturday, April 25, 2015

A Shifter Short Story

Posted by: Annie Nicholas

Awe and Isnay


Annie Nicholas

Orange and pink light haloed the mountain peaks as the sun rose in the sky. Awe followed the river winding through the lush green Apisi valley, toward the bend where it created the border between his pack’s and Ohneka land. Claws digging into the dirt, he ran with a loping wolf’s gait that ate distance but not energy.

In feral form, he ran faster than if he stayed in his civil man shape. Unlike his wolf cousin, Awe still walked on two legs. Shifters appeared like a blend of animal and man in feral form. The only thing that didn’t change was his eyes. They stayed amber like his animal cousin in either form.

Awe carried a backpack with clothes and sweet honey cake taken from the kitchen. He hoped Isnay had a sweet tooth since he wished to lure her close enough for a possible kiss. If he hurried, he would be in position before the omegas from the other pack arrived to do their laundry. Every six days. This was their schedule and it had taken over his life. He’d even taken two of Vendu’s guard duty spots so the other wolf shifter would work for him today.

All for a pretty face who flirted with him over the river currents. His alpha, Sorin, refused to negotiate for a cross-pack mating when there were eligible females to mate within the Apisi, but Sorin wouldn’t stop Awe from seeing Isnay on his own time.

Whatever the consequences, he just needed to stay on the Apisi side of the river. The Ohneka hunters couldn’t challenge him for watching.

He trotted along a narrow path, leading away from the edge of the river’s bank into the dense vegetation of the forest. The pack slipped easily off his back and onto the ground. Shifting shape to civil form was painless. He used his trigger memory and watched as his silver fur retreated into his skin. Joints popped and muscles realigned until his civil shape was completely restored. It was dangerous to travel in the forest as a man. He wasn’t as fast or as strong, but he wanted Isnay to see this form. All the other times she’d flirted, he’d stayed in feral since he’d been so close to the border.

Smoothing his long black hair from his face, he braided it with experienced ease and tied it with a thong. He pulled his worn leather kilt from the bag and adjusted it around his waist. The late spring air was warm enough for no shirt.

The river widened here and the currents slowed to a crawl. Smooth stones lined each side and made it a good place for washing in general. Traditionally, the packs didn’t use the site at the same time. Too many fights.

The young branches of the birch trees that lined the other bank bent to the side as Isnay stepped out of the forest in civil form. Her chestnut hair was parted in the middle with two braids that fell to her waist. For an omega, she was very shy. It had taken him many moons to finally get her to acknowledge his existence. She raised her face to the wind with a smile and set her basket of laundry by the river.

His heart raced. She could smell he was close. He stepped out from his hiding spot with the backpack. “You’re early.” He searched the area around her with both eyes and nose. The other omegas and their hunter guards were near but still out of sight.

She narrowed her eyes and slowed her steps. “Awe?”   With shaky hands, she smoothed away the wrinkles from her dress.

“It’s me.” He preened as her gaze wandered from his head to his toes then back again. At least she didn’t scream in horror. One never knew what a shifter’s civil form would look like when you met them as feral. Even from this distance he could see the blush blooming on her cheeks.

“You’re earlier.” She lowered her gaze. Isnay didn’t act as promiscuous as the Apisi omegas. Her bashfulness only made Awe want to mark her as his even more. Omegas were the packs’ easy lovers, artists, and caregivers. They eased tension, especially in the more high strung hunters. A pack would fall to in fighting without omegas around to distract from dominance games and pack politics. She glanced over her shoulder. “The others will be here soon.”

He opened his bag. “I have a present for you.” Pulling out the wrapped honey cake, he stepped into the river and crossed until the water reached his mid-thigh. He couldn’t go further or he’d be trespassing on Ohneka land, and their hunters were close. Getting his ass beaten wasn’t part of his plan.

His alphas had new pups to care for and their tempers were on short leashes. They would use his pelt as a pack room rug if he was caught by the Ohneka. Bad enough Peder, one their omegas, was taken hostage by the Payami last summer. The Apisi couldn’t afford to pay a ransom for members who were stupid enough to get caught by another pack. Awe had to play by the rules. For now.

Isnay took a step forward then glanced over her shoulder again. A visible shiver ran through her body.

He’d never been able to tempt her into the water. If an omega crossed territories it wasn’t considered much of an offense. Pack wars weren’t fought over their gentler brethren. The rules would be different for Awe. As a pack hunter, he was considered a weapon. He understood Isnay’s hesitation. There were stories of omegas being stolen throughout history. Look at what happened to Peder. How could he convince her of his honest intentions?

She sniffed. “Do I smell honey?”

He nodded and unwrapped the cake.

She removed her moccasins and gathered her skirts above her knees before stepping into the slow-moving river. This time of the year honey was a scarce commodity. The Apisi had saved some to celebrate the birth of Sorin’s and Susan’s pups.

He couldn’t keep from grinning. “It is. The bakers were up late last night making honey cake.”

She didn’t meet his gaze like a hunter might. There was no domination in the way she held her shoulders. Her presence eased him, let him relax like he couldn’t among the pack. Not many hunters would have had the courage to step into the river with a stranger from another pack though. Maybe her trust in him should be considered foolish, but who was the fool standing on the border of pack land holding honey cake? lol

“You stole from your pack?” The glance she tossed him held a sharper edge of intelligence than most hunters’ teeth.

He blinked. Dog shit, he was messing this up. What sort of shifter stole from his pack? His role was to provide, and he was proving otherwise. “Um…I won’t have any when it’s served.” He took a step closer, offering her the sweet again. “This is my piece.”

Lifting her chin, she finally met his stare with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Clearer than the sky above them and brighter than the sun. She took a piece and savored the bite, pressing her lips together and closing her eyes. “I haven’t had a sweet all winter.” She plucked another large piece, but didn’t eat it. Instead, she held it to his lips.

His heart swelled as he took the bite, purposely licking the sticky honey from her fingers.

She sighed.

“Isnay!” A male voice shouted from the forest.

Both of them startled, and Awe almost dropped the cake. In his obsession with Isnay, he’d forgotten the approaching Ohneka hunters. He grabbed her wrist as she darted back to shore.

Her eyes went wide with fear.

He placed the cake in her hand and released her so she could retreat to her side of the river safely.

Two hunters stormed out of the forest in feral form and raced into the river. A crowd of omegas, both female and male, followed. Isnay stood apart from them, cake forgotten in her hand and concern painted on her face.

Before the hunters reached him, Awe leaped back to his side of the river. They most likely wished to only chase him away from the border since they couldn’t know if he was alone or not.

Awe returned to the thick brush where he’d first hid and sat to wait.

The Ohneka hunters settled on the other bank, guarding the omegas as they did their chores. To his relief, no one chastised Isnay. They’d probably leave that for their alpha when the hunters reported the incident.

She sat by her basket, eating her cake and didn’t appear worried. She shared a few bites with friends. When she finally looked in the direction of his hiding place, he rose to his feet. Smiling, she blew him a kiss.

Fading back into the wilderness before he caused her anymore trouble, he sat out of view and watched Isnay. His alpha might not want to negotiate a mating with the Ohneka, but Awe wouldn’t give up on Isnay yet.

This story is based in the series Chronicles of Eorthe, book one is Scent of Salvation. The continuation of Awe and Isnay's romance can be found in the Alphas on the Prowl boxset, releasing April 28th.

Alpha shifters are on the prowl, and they're used to getting what they want. But there's more to claiming a destined mate than raw power, and they'll have to prove themselves worthy – in more ways than one.
Alphas on the Prowl is page after page of passion and pleasure in this box set featuring eleven tantalizing shapeshifter tales from NY Times and USA Today best selling authors.

Annie Nicholas writes paranormal romance with a twist. She has courted vampires, hunted with shifters, and slain a dragon’s ego all with the might of her pen. Riding the wind of her imagination, she travels beyond the restraints of reality and shares them with anyone wanting to read her stories. Mother, daughter, and wife are some of the other hats she wears while hiking through the hills and dales of her adopted state of Vermont.
Annie writes for Samhain Publishing, Carina Press, and Kensington Publishing.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Reading by Gender

Posted by: Nicole Luiken

I hate it when other people try to dictate what I should read.  I'm tired of people telling me I should be ashamed of reading YA because I'm an adult, or turning up their nose at romance or dismissing SF/fantasy as "rocket ships" and "elves". So earlier this year when I saw an article going around Facebook called I Challenge You to Stop Reading Straight White Cis Males Authors for One Year my first kneejerk reaction was anger. No, I darn well will not stop reading some of my favourite authors just because they're men.

[NOTE: Most of my anger comes from the title of the article rather than the content. If the article had been called Challenge Yourself to Read more Fiction by People of Colour and LGBT I would have been intrigued instead.]

Then I got curious. The title of the article implies that ‘everybody’ is reading ‘too much’ fiction by men. How much of my reading was written by women and how much by men? (I’m leaving the ‘straight and white’ part out of the equation, because I often don’t know the race and gender orientation of the writer. In fact, some of the names could be men writing as women and women writing as men for all I know. Certainly, someone reading Robert Galbraith’s bio can be excused for not guessing that J.K. Rowling was the author.)

So far in 2015 I have read 27 books by 17 men:  Neil Gaiman, Patrick Rothfuss, Tony Abbott (5), Stephen King, Kelly McCullogh, Brandon Sanderson, David Weber, Jim Hines, Lemony Snicket (4), Jim Butcher (3), Rich Burlew, Brent Weeks (2), Ben Aaronovitch, Alex Bledsoe, Dave Duncan, Joe Abercrombie and Robert Rankin.

Does that seem like a lot or too much? Does it seem unbalanced?

It’s not. I am a voracious reader. I also read 53 books by 42 women this year: Diana Pharaoh Francis, Tanya Huff, Jayne Castle (2), Mary Pope Osbourne (5), Carrie Vaughn, Jody Wallace, Kristin Cashore, Shawna Reppert (2), Jenny Schwartz, J.R. Ward, Meljean Brook, Annie Nicholas, Cassandra Clare, Jeffe Kennedy, Nalini Singh (2), Regan Summer, Suzanne & Melanie Brockmann, Anne Bishop, Rebecca Zanetti, Mary Robinette Kowal, Gini Koch (5), Judith Graves & Dawn Dalton, Angela Korra’ti, Eleri Stone (2), Patricia Briggs, Shelly Laurenston, Seanan Macguire, Shannon K. Butcher, Veronica Scott, Marcella Burnard, Catherine Asaro, Jo Walton, Sharon Lynn Fisher, Catherine Jinks, N.K. Jemison, R.L Naquin, Katherine Addison, Faith Hunter, C.J. Cherryh and Leigh Evans. Which firmly tips the balance the other way.

Statistically, one-third of my reading is written by male authors and two-thirds by women. As I said, I read mostly SF/fantasy and romance (and prefer books with both elements). Romance is primarily written by women (the exception being m/m romance, which is written by both men and women). My SF/fantasy reading is split more evenly between the sexes. So is my YA/MG reading.

Based on a much smaller sample size, my husband’s reading seems to fall out at about 70% men, 30% women. I would guesstimate that my mother’s reading is 95% women authors. Should my husband read more women authors? Should I, and my mother, read more books by men?

After some reflection, I’ve decided that I’m okay with my reading choices. I am not going to boycott male authors, but neither am I going to go out of my way to read 50-50 down the gender divide.

Bottom line: I believe people should read books that they enjoy. By all means, sample widely, try all the genres, read books by people of every colour, gender and orientation, then, once you discover storytellers you like—read them.

How do your reading tastes fall out?

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Friends and Lovers

Posted by: PG Forte
One of the fun aspects of writing a big, sprawling vampire family saga, is the ability to explore my characters' changing relationships. Psychologists might tell us that any friendship that lasts longer than seven years isn't going anywhere, but my vampires beg to differ.

Yes, we're all creatures of habit (that goes for humans and vampires--lol!) and there will always be a lot of things in our lives that remain at least partially stable, but when you live forever there's gonna be some changes from time to time.

Fallen Embers (book five in the children of Night series) released this week and it was so much fun to finally delve into the complicated relationship between Conrad and Georgia, and even to hint at some of the reasons for the huge animosity that exists between Georgia and Damian. 

Georgia is Conrad's oldest friend. And, out of all the relationships in the series, theirs is the one that has changed the most over the, decades...make that centuries. They went from friends to lovers to strangers to...whatever they have now. 

The story of Conrad and Georgia is one of timing--both epically good and tragically bad. It's a tale of regrets, missed chances and divided loyalties. Up until now, Georgia has appeared to be at least partially villainous--don't expect that to change. These are still vampires, after all. They're never going to be squeaky clean. They're also not gonna sparkle, but let's not go there!

Let's just say that, in Fallen Embers, we get to see a few more facets of Georgia's personality. It's been fun letting her shine. 

Here's a brief excerpt. Georgia's secret is getting harder to keep. In this scene with Conrad, she almost breaks down and reveals the truth:

“Wait.” As Georgia moved to pass him, Conrad put out a hand to stop her. “Don’t go yet. Come and sit with me for a while. I wish to talk with you.”

“Talk?” Georgia’s eyes widened in alarm. She glanced around in surprise. “What—here?”
Conrad’s gaze followed Georgia’s. There were a handful of wrought-iron benches scattered around the property—mostly holdovers from those days when he had been in the habit of throwing elaborate house parties. They made for convenient dining areas, but were only semi-secluded, not quite what he was looking for tonight.

“Let’s go inside. There’s less chance of being overheard and, if you’re hungry, I can have the servants bring us some food. Come,” he repeated, smiling expectantly. He crooked his arm and waited for her to take it.

Georgia cast another long look around her. “Oh, very well. If you insist.”

Conrad studied her more closely. Was she pouting? Her expression was definitely not happy as she slipped her arm in his. And the sigh she heaved was so unexpectedly mournful, so in-tune with his own feeling of unrest, that it prompted Conrad to reach for her hand where it lay upon his arm He squeezed it gently, offering what comfort he could. “You feel it too?”

Georgia stilled. “Feel what?”

Conrad shrugged. “I hardly know how to describe it. A vague malaise. The rush of time flying past us, perhaps?”

“Ah, that.” Georgia’s mouth tightened. “In truth, I feel it more than you know.”

“Now then,” Conrad said after they’d settled themselves, drinks in hand, in the salon—he on the sofa, she on one of the armchairs facing it. “Talk to me, ciccia. Tell me what’s been bothering you.”
Georgia dropped her gaze to stare into the goblet in her hand. “I don’t know what you mean. What makes you think there’s anything bothering me?”

“Because it’s written all over your face.”

She took a small sip and then replied, “As I told you, I spent the day following up on pointless leads. What you’re seeing in my face is exhaustion. It will pass.”

“Somehow I doubt that’s all it is.”

“Well, I’ve no idea what else you want me to tell you.”

“Tell me the truth.”

“I have just done so!”

Conrad sighed. “How long have we known each other now? And through how many dire circumstances? I have seen you when you’re tired, Georgia, but I’ve never seen you look so careworn. Won’t you confide in me?”

“Careworn?” Georgia’s laugh sounded brittle and forced. “Oh dear, has it really come to that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but is not ‘careworn’ a word men most oft employ when they wish to suggest that a woman’s looks are not to their liking? Does my appearance leave so much to be desired then? I do beg my sire’s pardon. Perhaps it’s my choice of hairstyle that he finds unflattering?”

“My dear, don’t talk such nonsense. Your beauty is intoxicating—as it has always been. And, even if it weren’t, I’m certain you are far too wise to be concerned overmuch with my opinion of such things.”

“Perhaps not when it comes to fashion.”

“Exactly. No, my dear, what I’m asking about is something quite different. There is something in your expression. I cannot find the words to describe it.” He looked her over once again, searching for words. “You look…sad.”

“Sad…” Georgia repeated the word thoughtfully. “Yes, well, I suppose there might be some small truth to that.” A shudder worked its way up her frame; it was small, but not so subtle that Conrad could have missed it. She shook her head. “I assure you, it’s nothing with which you need concern yourself.”

“And yet, I am concerned.” He was also growing impatient. They both knew he could compel her to speak—though neither of them would enjoy it. Was that really what she wanted?

“Conrad, please.” She gazed at him entreatingly. “One might be sad for any number of silly or unimportant reasons. Is a little privacy really too much to ask for?”

Conrad frowned. Privacy was all well and good, but his heart told him there was more to it than that. This helpless, hopeless tone was something new. Whatever was troubling her, it was clearly not the ‘nothing’ she would have him believe. “Georgia…”

“Or if you cannot be dissuaded, can we not at least postpone this conversation for another time? Please, my love. I ask you for little enough. Can you not grant me this?”

There’s a thin line between blood and madness.
Children of Night, Book 5
Early Twelfth Century. When the half-civilized Conrad Quintano stumbles upon a stacked battle on an isolated beach, his first instinct is to walk away. What does he care if a bunch of worthless vampires kill each other? But a dying ember of chivalry compels him to rescue the pretty female vampire in distress—radically altering the course of his already cursed life.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Here Be News

Posted by: Unknown

New Releases

Out of Rhythm (Face the Music book 1)
They might be one of the hottest up-and-coming bands in Australia, but the members of Selling the Sun have a lot to learn about life, love, sex, and each other.

Coming off a successful Australian tour and prestigious industry award nominations, Gemma Field’s life should be perfect. Instead her parents want her to get a real job, the second album isn’t coming together, and her best friend, Kirsten wants nothing to do with her. Falling for her best friend was never going to make life easy.

After an almost accidental drunken kiss almost six months ago, they aren’t even talking. Gemma can’t even talk about it with anyone – not her family, not her bandmates, not even the one person she used to share everything with. Instead she lives in a space of indecision and pain, and it’s affecting all aspects of her life, including the band.

Kirsten Vincent missed Gemma like crazy, but did she miss her as a friend or as something more? She’s confused and Gemma is hurt, and the consequences of a bad decision will affect more than their personal lives. Will another kiss, a sober kiss, a kiss with intent, do more damage, or could it be the start of something more?

Praise for OUT OF RHYTHM: With fun, authentic characters, sexual tension that leaves you on tenterhooks, and wonderful world building, Shona Husk is an awesomely talented Australian writer and it's fantastic to read rock star romances set here at home. - Kylie Scott, author of the Stage Dive series


There’s a thin line between blood and madness.

Children of Night, Book 5

Early Twelfth Century. When the half-civilized Conrad Quintano stumbles upon a stacked battle on an isolated beach, his first instinct is to walk away. What does he care if a bunch of worthless vampires kill each other? But a dying ember of chivalry compels him to rescue the pretty female vampire in distress—radically altering the course of his already cursed life.

Present Day. Marc Fischer continues his desperate search for Elise, while his newly single twin sister, Julie, is hooking up with everything that moves—at least that’s how it looks to a jealous Armand. As the twins’ unusual abilities grow stronger, Marc makes the mistake of trying to protect Julie from what he’s learned about their true nature.

Meanwhile, Conrad’s relationship with Georgia—the vampire he saved centuries ago—is about to alter yet again. They’ve each been keeping dangerous secrets. Secrets with the power to destroy the entire clan. Now, with Julie’s life threatened, the Fischer-Quintano vampires will learn the most painful truth of all. No lie lies hidden forever.

“Damian and Conrad truly have an original and unconventional love story that will entertain as well as romance you. Their fledgling parenting attempts are charming and totally endearing” –RT Magazine on Now Comes the Night

“I can't wait for Ms. Forte's next book in this series, and I am definitely firmly in the `Team Conrad' group. I recommend this one for those who know that vampires don't sparkle, and aren't always sweet and gentle lovers.” —Long and Short Reviews on Now Comes the Night

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Busting Cosmic Dust Bunnies

Posted by: Unknown
In space, no one can hear you sneeze. Of course, I don’t recommend leaning out of the airlock while sweeping dust bunnies into the void. Parts of you might freeze or boil—are we actually clear on what happens when you lean into a vacuum? I just looked it up and…really gross things happen to bodies exposed to a vacuum. Apparently the lack of pressure lowers the boiling point of your blood, so it does that and then explodes out of all the surrounding tissue. Awesome.

That’s not what I wanted to write about.

Have you ever wondered how we’ll go about spring cleaning in space? The ship that your crew has been zipping about in is going to collect a lot of dust, even with all the hatches sealed and locked. Skin particles, hair, whatever the engineer picked out of his nose and flicked behind the power core when he thought no one was looking. The stuffing from that suspiciously Klingon-featured teddy bear that is just a keepsake. Powdered rations spilled and not properly cleaned up. The residue in the pipes leading to the water recycler.

Oh, God. I don’t even want to think about what else is in the water recycler. I bet that engineer pees in the shower, too. Then again, he might as well. All the water in his ship probably funnels to the same place, and the filters on that unit will need a regular cleaning.

I suppose you might land once in a while, throw open all the hatches and get the brooms out. Flush the tanks, take a risk on the local water. But what if your craft isn’t equipped for atmospheric reentry. It’s the bargain model—sleek enough to skip from star to star without too much hassle, not quite robust enough to actually land anywhere. Or…what if spring on Planet Bazooka is the season of the tank crab? Militant buggers the size of a Mini Cooper that like to scuttle through open cargo hatches and have crab babies on your just swept floor?

There’s got to be a better way to bust cosmic dust bunnies.

I thought about sonic cleaners, but they just loosen the dust and grime. It’s still there, just no longer attached to whatever you were cleaning. It might also be pulverized, but still part of the universe. Ultra violet light can be used to disinfect the dust, but the dust is still there. The fact is, that unless you have a handy, pocket sized black hole, whatever you bring onto your ship is going to stay on your ship until you take it off again. That’s, like, a law of physics or something. So, while we might be able to clean smudges off the shiny bits with newfangled solvents and tech, we still have your nail clippings and sloughed skin to do away with. Eventually, all that dust is going to make the place smell a bit, maybe tickle a sinus or two. And every time you sneeze, more stuff is going to enter your closed and fetid atmosphere—unless you’re leaning out of an airlock at the time.

I have come up with a solution. We could install vacuum ports. Program a sequence, hit a switch and a tidy (short and tidy, we want to be able to breathe afterward) current sucks anything loose toward a vent in the floor, through a duct and into a collection chamber. The chamber can then be vented outside (space dust!) or, for the environmentally conscious, emptied in a responsible manner. Um…incarnated at a station, then turned into space dust? Compacted and…burned? Mixed with the sludge from your water recycling unit and served in the staff cafeteria? Used to stuff upholstery? Ideally, we could find a way to turn it into fuel. Yeah, I like that.

Small animals (fur emitting, litter busting, flea bags!) should be kept away from vents during operation. Toes, fingers and other delicate naked bits shouldn’t get too close to the vents, ever. You don’t want to lose a testicle if someone accidentally starts the cleaning cycle. Likewise, any keepsakes should be kept strapped down. A blocked vent will not effectively clean a room.

It’s not a perfect system, but I’m open to suggestions. How would you go about spring cleaning in space?


On the Chaos, the crew play poker for pennies and chores. Loser cleans the bathrooms and Felix is the worst poker player in the galaxy. He's also not that dedicated to cleanliness. Probably a good thing they have a doctor on board!

Chaos Station (Chaos Station #1) is available now. 

To read the first chapter and learn about the rest of the crew, visit

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