Thursday, December 15, 2011

The Visionary Pamela Thibodeaux


When I first wrote The Visionary in a 5-subject notebook (where most of my stuff began way back when) I had in mind a sweet romance featuring m/f twins and their love interests. When I first typed the novel, I thought, “this is my light romance!” which was a great relief after some of my other work which dealt with subjects like domestic violence, grief, and betrayal. 

However, one day I sent off the first 3 chapters to a friend and her response was, “these twins are awful close, you need to be careful.” Of course that made me wonder Why? What happened to them or between them to make them so close (I couldn’t seem to tone down their intense feelings for one another). Then one day I walked out of my office into the living room where my husband sat watching a popular talk show. In a heart-wrenching scene the young man on the show apologized to his sisters because he couldn’t stop the abuse they suffered at the hands of their father. 

I swear, every drop of blood drained from my body and I began to argue with God…. No! Not that! Anything but that! I can’t write this! I have no experience in this! I’m not qualified as a minister or therapist! God….PLEASE….no. Three days of wavering, three days of arguing, three days of not being able to sit down and write a single word and God finally confronted me with…. “Who are you writing for anyway?” I capitulated and wrote the entire story in 4 months during the busiest time of year for a bookkeeper/tax preparer (Jan - April). 

BLURB:

A visionary is someone who sees into the future Taylor Forrestier sees into the past but only as it pertains to her work. Hailed by her peers as “a visionary with an instinct for beauty and an eye for the unique” Taylor is undoubtedly a brilliant architect and gifted designer. But she and twin brother Trevor, share more than a successful business. The two share a childhood wrought with lies and deceit and the kind of abuse that’s disturbingly prevalent in today’s society.  Can the love of God and the awesome healing power of His grace and mercy free the twins from their past and open their hearts to the good plan and the future He has for their lives?  Find out in…The Visionary ~ Where the power of God's love heals the most wounded of souls.

EXCERPT #1:

Taylor Forrestier awoke with a muffled scream. Her feet tangled in the bedcovers when she tried to bolt, and she landed on the floor with a thud and a whimper. She kicked free of the sheets and blankets then crawled into a corner. Eyes wide with horror, she tried to make sense of the shadows that danced around her, to separate the ones in the room from those in her mind. Her heart thundered. Breath escaped in short pants. She drew her knees to her chest, took several deep breaths to keep from hyperventilating, then closed her eyes and rested her head. 
Shivers overtook her slender frame. A sob escaped. Oh, God, would the nightmares ever cease, the ghosts ever rest in peace?

Resolve straightened her spine. Eyes still closed, she inched her way to the bedside table. Her hand trembled when she turned on the lamp. The light forced darkness from the room, but only one thing would push it from her mind. Agility born of fear drove her to her feet. She fumbled into a sweat suit, socks and tennis shoes, scraped her hair up into a ponytail, then fled.

EXCERPT #2:

Taylor thrashed about and fought the fear clamoring in her throat. Panic stole her breath. The monster held her while Trevor grappled with a gun. She struggled and kicked, but the monster held her fast. She had to get away. She had to stop him! She begged and pleaded, but the monster just laughed. His gnarled, horrid sound sent shivers of terror through her soul. A blast of gunshot, a flash of lightning, and the scream tore free from her throat and echoed through the room. The door burst open and strong arms encircled her. Gentle hands stroked and soothed, a soft voice caressed, tender words flowed over her. Taylor buried her face in Alex’s shoulder while he cradled her against his chest and rocked.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she murmured. A pulse hammered against her skin, a tremble shimmered down her spine. She pushed herself closer, found safety and comfort in his embrace. Alex tightened his arms around her, smoothed her hair.

“It’s okay. That’s why I’m here and exactly why I didn’t want to leave you alone tonight.”

EXCERPT #3:

Pam took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. “I love you, Trevor. Why won’t you talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You have no idea what love is.” He hissed through teeth clenched as tightly as the fists by his side. “Most people have no inkling as to what true love is. True love is sticking together when your whole world is falling apart, trusting each other when you can’t depend on another living soul, and being willing to die or kill for each other.”

EXCERPT #4:

Trevor hovered in the place between wakefulness and sleep, darkness and light, heaven and hell. He could hear his sister’s voice, but he couldn’t see her, couldn’t find her in the darkness, and couldn’t reach her in the red haze of pain and fear. He was hot, so hot. He burned with anger and shame and shook with the fear that kept him bound, unable to get to her. He felt trapped, helpless. She called to him again, but it was the sound of a little girl whimpering. He mumbled her name, assured her he was there, that he’d save and protect her. It wouldn’t happen again, he promised and struggled to jerk his hands from their restraints, to break through the darkness and rescue her.

EXCERPT #5:

“Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“I’m not through yet,” he mumbled, then slid off the couch and swung her up in his arms.

Fear snuck in, darkening her eyes. She stiffened and opened her mouth to protest. He brushed his lips over hers and silenced her objections.

“I just want to hold you,” he whispered and laid his forehead against hers. “That’s all. I promise,” he added, unable to camouflage the need in his voice.
***
He’d offered her another step to relinquish her fear and trust him. Triumph lit his expressive eyes when she wrapped her arm around his neck, smiled, and whispered, “Okay,” then snuggled her face against his shoulder and let him carry her to the bedroom.

With exquisite tenderness, he laid her on the bed, crawled up beside her, and took her in his arms. Taylor felt the strength of his need in the heat and tensed against the hardness of his body. He eased his grip and propped up on one elbow beside her. His eyes pleaded for grace when he stroked the hair off her face and said in a soft, husky voice, “Please don’t be afraid of me; please trust me. I will never force or even persuade you to give more than you’re ready to.”

They gazed at each other for a long, tender moment. She cupped his cheek in her hand, brushed her thumb over his mouth, then curled her fingers in his hair and urged his head down to fasten her lips to his. A low moan escaped his throat, yet he held himself taut.

Taylor ran her hand over his shoulder and back in a soft caress then wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hold me, Alex, I trust you.”

The emotions reflected in his tone caressed her heart when he thanked her in that beautiful velvety-rough voice. He rolled onto his back, pulled the covers over her, and held her while she slept.



AUTHOR BIO:
Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.”
Website address: http://www.pamelathibodeaux.com  
Bayou Writers Group: http://bayouwritersgroup.com  
  
BUY LINKS:
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/o3YrMq




Thursday, December 1, 2011

New Release from Jerri Drennen!!

I had to give my dear friend and fellow crit partner a shout out on the new release of her novel, Her Man Flint!!  I love her cover and the insides are pretty good too!


Grab a copy here: http://www.amazon.com/Flint-Department-National-Security-ebook/dp/B006EP1BBC/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1322741974&sr=1-1 

If James Bond and Cleopatra Jones had a daughter, Adriana Kent would kick her ass.

Everything Adriana knows about being a top-notch, undercover agent she's learned from her partner, Flint Morgan, in and out of the sheets. That is, until he's caught between those same bed linens with another woman. Heartbroken, Adriana refuses to forgive him. But when 'the other woman' is found dead in Flint's apartment, she steps up to prove his innocence--he might be a womanizer, but he's no killer.

As Adriana closes in on a suspect, she's kidnapped and sent overseas to a sadistic prince who collects women like priceless pieces of art. Now this tough as nails agent finds herself playing the helpless courtesan to a man hell-bent on breaking her spirit. Flint arrives in the nick of time, dressed as a harem girl, fighting off randy guards and surly camels to rescue Adriana so they can fly back to the states to find a way to exonerate him for murder.


Excerpt for Her Man Flint

“Are you going to lie there all day, or are we going to get the hell out of Dodge?”

The voice was unmistakable. “Adriana,” he growled.
“What? Were you expecting Lindsey ‘Silicone’ Warren, perhaps?” Adriana popped her head out from behind the huge rock in front of him for a brief second, glared, then ducked behind the boulder again. “Sorry to disappoint you, but that woman wouldn’t break a fake nail to save your arrogant ass.”
“Cute.” Flint eased up and clutched his side, putting pressure on the wound in hopes of easing the flow of blood between his fingers.
“You think she’d care one way or the other if you made it out of here alive?” Adriana continued. “Who do you think set you up anyway?”

“You did,” Flint tossed her way.

She jumped up again, her eyes spitting fire. “The hell I did. I stopped by Billy’s this morning. He asked me what I wanted when I called you yesterday.” With a seriousness Flint had never seen before, she shook her blonde head, her glare boring into him. “I never called you. He told me you were headed out here, and I knew you were in big trouble. Did you know your precious Lindsey dated Hartford?”

“What?” Flint’s mouth slacked in astonishment.

“Yeah, they were a hot item last summer.” Her gaze turned ice cold. “Apparently the relationship never ended. Why would you think I’d set you up anyway? Believe it or not, I did care for you at one time.”

Adriana abruptly looked up and aimed her rifle, firing at a man who’d popped his head over the ledge, then cursed like a sailor when she missed the mark. “Move your ass. I’m not going to be your back forever.”

She fired again, this time smiling with satisfaction when the man clutched at his shoulder.

“One down.”

Flint scrambled over to the boulder she used as a shield and pulled himself behind it, moving in close to her. 
Instantly, her womanly scent filled the air around him, a perfume he remembered all too well—a sweet, flowery fragrance with just a hint of musk. The stuff had always done strange things to his libido. Today was no exception. Even in danger and wounded, he found it difficult to ignore her wonderful essence. Hell, her in general.

“Why’d you come, Dray?” He slid to the ground, his back against the rock while he wiped sweat from his brow onto his shirtsleeve.

He glanced back at her with curiosity. Today, her long, ash-blonde hair was pulled away from her face, her perfect ivory complexion smudged with dirt that no way detracted from her beauty. Her attention was on their surroundings—no doubt trying to figure the best way to get them out of the mess he’d gotten them into.

He watched her intently, shocked to realize he’d missed her. “Why’d you save me?”

She turned to face him. “We’re partners. Isn’t that what partners do?”

“But what about—”

“Forget it. So our personal relationship didn’t work out—that doesn’t mean our professional association at the department can’t continue.”

Adriana turned away and fired again, this time at a man who’d started down the ravine after them. Her shot was off again.

Intense pain cut through Flint’s side as he shifted his body. “I owe you one.”

She returned her attention to him and grinned. “Do I get to choose payment?”

Before he could answer, she turned to the leather-clad man who was moving again. Taking aim, she fired, hitting the goon in the leg. The blast sent the assailant firing wildly in the air before tumbling down into the gorge.

“That’s two.” Her triumphant smile said she was pleased with herself.

“We were discussing payment. What’d you have in mind?” Flint’s grin turned to a grimace when another wave of pain sliced through him.

Adriana’s frown deepened as she studied the area. “Let’s get out of this alive, and then we’ll talk.” She pointed to his side. “How bad is it? You think you can run?”

Despite the blood soaking his shirt, he knew he could scramble if need be. “It’s nothing. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Let’s go.” Adriana raced for the next boulder about twenty feet away, Flint hot on her heels. On the way, she tried to sidestep sagebrush in her path, but instead hit it head-on and stumbled, rolling to the rocky ground and landed hard on her back.

Flint dove on top her as a barrage of bullets flew over them.

“Man, they really want you dead. Could you get off me?” She scowled and tried to push him away, her breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.

Flint stared at her flushed face, painfully aware of the soft yet firm breasts beneath him. Emotions he’d thought long dead stirred him to distraction.

“I’m sure the same thought crossed your mind a time or two.” He studied her face for a reaction, then lifted himself from her.

A hint of amusement danced in her eyes. “No, not dead. Castrated maybe.”

As she rose in preparation to run again, her meaning sunk in and caused Flint’s groin to twitch. “Oh, that hurt.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the ground as another bullet buzzed past them.

“Yes, I imagine it would for someone who thought with his dick instead of his brain.”

Flint couldn’t help but smile. She had such a foul, sexy mouth. He reached over and laced his fingers through a loose strand of hair, caressing its soft, silky texture. “Have I ever told you, Dray, that you have the prettiest blonde hair?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact you have. It was right around the time you were trying to get in my pants.” She glanced around. “We don’t have time for reminiscing, Flint. If you hadn’t noticed, people are trying to kill us.”

“Right. Well, it is nice,” he mumbled under his breath.

Adriana wiggled away and sat up. “Flatter me later.”

He chuckled, then grimaced when his amusement garnered him a kick in the shin.

Another round flew by and ricocheted off a nearby rock, sending them scurrying further behind the boulder protecting them, and reminded Flint that they weren’t forgotten by their attackers.

Hunching over her, he asked, “Where’s your car?”

“Over there.” Adriana pointed to a large formation and almost lost a finger when another slug zipped past.

She gasped and clutched at her hand, her eyes narrowing on him.

“Are you hurt?” Flint reached for her fingers, but she pulled away.

“If I lose even a hair on my head, Flint Morgan, you’ll pay.”

Like a snake, she slithered toward the large rock where her car was hidden. A well-timed storm cloud crossed over the sun and cast a shadow over the ravine, giving them the opportunity to make their move to the larger formation.

Flint crawled behind Adriana. He couldn’t help but admire her perfectly rounded bottom, clad in a pair of tan khakis. She really did have the best looking rear-end he’d ever seen in his life.

“Did I ask you to save my ass?” he asked, his mind now consumed by hers, rather than what he should be worried about—getting them out of this mess alive.

“No, but I couldn’t help but recall yours, and I didn’t want to see it get shot off. Now crawl faster before my ass is the one that ends up with lead in it.”

He smiled again. The women definitely had wit.

They made their way to a pile of enormous boulders, just a few feet from Adriana’s red Porsche when Flint heard the faint thrum of a helicopter in the distance.

Adriana cursed. “Who the hell’s coming now—guerilla fighters? What if they’re not the good guys, Flint? What are we going to do?”

“Just keep moving. We’ll do whatever we have to. You got any guns in your car?”

“Yeah, two. No extra ammo, though. Only what’s loaded in my Glock and .45.”

The chopper flew overhead and circled the compound before fanning out into what was clearly a search maneuver.

“Can you see any markings on the craft?” Flint squinted, trying to make out anything that would give him some idea whether it was friend or foe.
Her green eyes widened and in a soft voice she said, “I don’t think we’re going to make it out of here alive, Flint. I need to tell you something.”

“Oh? What’s that?” he asked, his attention still on the helicopter above them.

“I wanted you to know—”

“I think it’s Billy,” he interrupted, waving his hands to draw the pilot’s attention.

The craft flew over them once, then landed in an open field a short distance away.

“Run.” Flint grasped her arm and pulled her toward the aircraft, using a zigzag pattern to dodge stray bullets, while fighting the rush of intense whirlwind caused by the propeller blades.

When they reached the chopper, he shoved Adriana inside and jumped in behind her.

Instantly, they took off, hovering just long enough for them to see three men aiming their weapons up in the air.

“Get us the hell out of here, Billy. Before they shoot us down.” The ping of a bullet hit the side of the 
chopper and pounded home the importance of Flint’s words.

“Right away, boss. Glad to see you’re alive. I thought I was going to have to take you out in a body bag.”

The chopper pivoted forward and left the compound.

“You might have had to if Adriana hadn’t come along. Say Dray”…Flint glanced at the blood clotting on his shirt, then looked up to meet her gaze. “What were you trying to tell me back there?”

Adriana shook her head. “Nothing. It wasn’t important.”

She turned to stare out the window, leaving Flint to wonder what seemed so dire just seconds ago, yet now that they were safely on their way home, turned into nothing?


Men packing more than just Handguns

http://jerridrennen.com/