Sunday, August 25, 2013

LS Murphy Reaper Blog Tour




































Reaper Blurb:

There’s no way sixteen year old Quincy Amarante will become the fifth grim reaper. None. Not over her shiny blue Mustang. Her Jimmy Choos. Or her dead body.

She’s supposed to enjoy her sophomore year, not learn about some freaky future Destiny says she has no choice but to fulfill.

It doesn’t take long for Quincy to realize the only way out of the game is to play along especially since Death can find her anyway, anywhere, anytime. And does.

Like when she’s reassuring her friends she wants nothing to do with former best friend Ben Moorland, who’s returned from god-knows-where, and fails. Miserably.

Instead of maintaining her coveted popularity status, Quincy’s goes down like the Titanic.
Maybe … just maybe … that’s okay.

It seems, perhaps, becoming a grim reaper isn’t just about the dead but more about a much needed shift in Quincy’s priorities—from who she thinks she wants to be to who she really is.


Bio:

L.S. Murphy lives in the Greater St. Louis area where she watches Cardinals baseball, reads every book she can find, and weaves tales for teens and adults. When not doing all of the above, she tends to The Bean (aka her daughter), her husband and a menagerie of pets. “A Reason to Stay”, a contemporary romance novella, is available as of November 2, 2012. Reaper is her debut young adult novel and will be released on January 7th, 2013.

She is a co-rep for the Southern Illinois region of Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) and a member of the St. Louis Writer’s Guild.

Links:






Excerpt

A spitball stops in mid-air less than an inch from my nose. 

It hangs there. I assume everyone else notices the wet wad of paper too, but when I turn to my bestie Jordan, her mouth is stuck open with her eyes half closed. 

She was just laughing. Now she’s ... frozen? 

The sudden silence is louder than a room full of gossiping teenagers. 

Mini-quakes creep up my spine like a centipede hurrying toward my hair. 

I’m not entirely sure my heart is beating. I wave my shaking hand in front of Jordan, hoping this will break her free of whatever happened. 

No reaction. 

Why am I moving? 

So many times, I wished Jordan would stop talking. Now is the one time I need her high-pitched voice to pierce my ears. 

Quin, relax. It’s okay. No way this is real. I pinch my arm hard, but it doesn’t change anything. 

A loud pop makes me spin around in my seat. A man stands in front of the chalkboard in a bluish-white robe staring at me through blizzard white eyes. He holds a staff in front of him that looks like melting glass.

“Hello, Quincy,” he says in a deep velvet voice. “How would you like to see your future?” 

I stand and stumble toward the back of the room. “Who are you supposed to be? Gandalf?” I’m unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. 

“One person dresses up like me in a movie, and that’s all I hear.” He leans back on Mr. Spragg’s desk. “I’m far more attractive than him and so much more fun.” He winks and lifts his robe, revealing a pair of yellow and red striped Bermuda shorts and orange flip-flops. 

My eyes pop wider at the mismatched mess, but I keep my thoughts about his sense of fashion to myself. 
“Who are you?” 

His sigh echoes off the walls. “I’m Destiny.” 

“Who?” 

Rolling his eyes, he raises the staff high to his left. Like a swordsman, he stabs and swooshes it down in an arch. The air ripples as a dark slit opens. A man in a deep brown pinstripe suit steps through. His cheap sneakers don’t match the formality of the tan fedora and horn-rimmed glasses. 

A pony-sized white German shepherd saunters in behind him, and I take an automatic step back. The dog turns his head, black orbs where its eyes should be.
Pinstripe man glances my way before turning toward the person who calls himself Destiny. His features contort and a maroon tint creeps over his face. 

“What the f—” 

Destiny flips his finger and the new guy shuts up. After a moment, he does another finger move. 

“We said when she was eighteen, Des.” 

“I’m aware of that, Forsyth.” 

“She’s not eighteen.” 

“Really? I never would have guessed.” Sarcasm fills each word as Destiny raises his eyebrows like a flag on the Fourth of July. 

Forsyth glares. “Then why am I here?” 

“I let you pick the date, but I never agreed to honor it.” Destiny pats the dog on the head with sneer and wipes his hands on his robe. “Now is the time. Teach her.” 




Friday, August 16, 2013

All Romance EBooks and Nook

Yep, just finished loading Micah's Heart on All Romance Ebooks and on Nook!

So readers, if you want a HAWT, Gothic type paranormal romance then be sure and grab a copy of Micah's Heart.


All Romance Ebooks

Nook


I just received my first review of the book.  Stephs Book Retreat gave it a 5 star review!

You can check it out here!

Have a great weekend!!!

Judith
website

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Best Selling author Deborah MacGillivray: Riding The Thunder!


























Summoning Thunder. . . Inspiration Found in the Oddest Places

by


Deborah Macgillivray


Thomas Wolfe once wrote that we can never go home again.  In the strictest meaning, perhaps not.  But in my soul, I do go to those off-the-beaten-path, special places that were once a part of my life.  I revisit spots that have a magical hold over me, and see people who affected me in some inexplicable, remarkable way.

I found I leave pieces of myself in my books.  Sometimes it’s an insider joke.  Others it’s a touchstone.  My dear friend, Dawn Thompson, had a touchstone in all her books.  You will see the phrase green darkness used at some point in every novel she wrote, an honor to Anya Seaton’s book Green Darkness.  It was the book that made Dawn want to write.  Now that Dawn has left us, I carry on her touchstone by working that phrase into all my historicals.  My tribute to her. 

Nowhere is this leaving a trail of bread crumbs the key to one’s self more evident than in my contemporary romance novels the Sisters of Colford Hall ™ (Montlake/Amazon Publishing).  In the first three books of the series, The Invasion of Falgannon Isle, Riding the Thunder, and A Wolf In Wolf’s Clothing, I drew heavily on my memories of growing up of places and people that moved me in some form.  Most of these people and spots are now long gone, though they still live in those shining images dear to me.  In The Invasion of Falgannon Isle it was the Scots and their wonderful, quirky humor, the ability to accept there’s more to this world than just what meets the eye, and their tendency to laugh at any situation.  Not just at, but with.  I took those precious remembrances and spun a fantasy, creating an imaginary isle with 213 bachelors and only three unmarried women two were gay and the remaining one was a woman the males couldn’t court because of an ancient curse!  It’s a Brigadoonish romp which came straight from my heart.  And with The Cat Dudley a poker playing feline it’s an island where I could easily retreat to and live in bliss!

When I shaped the series, I wanted each book to stand on its own, though still be very much a part of the series.  I desired paranormal elements in each book, yet those components should be unique to each story.  I aimed for each novel to be fresh, not just a blueprint of the previous books, so I looked to the other half of my roots for the second book
the beautiful state of Kentucky for the setting.  One reader who read Riding the Thunder remarked that she loved the book so much she wished there really was a place called The Windmill.  Well, in truth there was.  Once upon a time there was a small restaurant/motel named The Wind Mill.

(“idealized” postcards from the 1950s)


Located on Lexington Pike, it was halfway between Lexington and Nicholasville.  Long ago, the suburban sprawl of Lexington saw the distance between the massive college town and the small southern community sadly fade.  The Wind Mill was also the halfway point between Michigan and Florida on the “Blue Highway”.  Decades before the interstate system was put in place, the road was the main artery from North to South.  Truck drivers required a place to eat and to catch some rest, as did many vacationers heading to sunny Florida.  Those frequent travelers used the spot as a stopping point in the long drive.  There was truly a motel, restaurant, swim club and a Drive-In theatre.  And yes, there was even a horse farm across from it.

The place was nothing special.  By the time I began visiting there, it already had a slightly seedy, rundown air of fading into the Twilight Zone of time.  My visits to the area rarely lasted long, only a week or two each year, but for some odd reason the quirky place that was out-of-step with the rest of the world made a deep impression in my young mind and heart.  And very much like Scotland, the people there seemed to have a slower pace to life, able to enjoy the moment
truly relish their oddball sense of being unique. These out of way places have their own speedgenerally slow and stop. . .LOL and it filled my imagination with a wonder and magic I cannot truly explain.  So, yes, The Windmill did exist.  It had a Wurlitzer that tended to play the wrong tunes at times.  There was even a very special young man nicknamed Ooo-it.



Over the years, I visited the area less and less.  It hurt too much to see the city sprawl, the giant Lexington pushing closer and closer, until finally consuming the tiny town of Nicholasville.  All the area’s special flavor, its eccentricity was lost.  Only those images remained, frozen in my mind. . . seeds waiting to come alive.  I wanted to capture that timeless feel, so thus my stage was set for the romantic battle of Jago Mershan and Asha Montgomerie.

My stories always evolve from the questions of who and why.  I see a scene in my head, such as the opening of Chapter One:  Jago sitting at the bar, waiting, and drinking a beer.  Who is he?  Why is he there?  Who is he waiting for?  He’s waiting for Asha, naturally.  Then, when Asha enters, it’s more questions.  Where did she just come from?  How will she react to this lone wolf invading her domain?  What is a woman from England doing in a nowhere spot in Kentucky?  I knew who she was basically, the little sister of the heroine in the first book in the series, but the questions then propelled me to define Asha and her quirky world and how Jago fit into it.

Cats seem to have a penchant for wandering into my contemporary stories, so I wasn’t surprised the nameless cat appeared and took up with Jago.  I kept trying to give the black cat his name, only he defied my efforts, so I permitted that, too, to become a part of the story.
  
As for the tune Tell Laura I Love Her the song was very popular when I was a small child and it seemed to play endlessly on the Jukebox at the real Wind Mill Restaurant.  Records were not updated too often.  LOL.  Bobby “Boris” Picket, J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers, The Kinks, The Hollies. . . all played on the 45s, three songs for a quarter.  Everything from those few weeks scattered through my early life lived on, razor sharp in my mind.  I recall the beautiful Wurlitzer, the shiny lights holding a faerie magic, like a lit Christmas tree, the Wallette changers on the walls by each booth.  If I just close my eyes and allow my mind to cast back in time, suddenly, I conjure the way the afternoon sun slanted through the plate-glass windows, which ran across the front of the brick building.  It’s all there for me the Drive-In showing Vincent Price movies; the sound of someone bouncing on the diving board at the swim club; I hear the chatter in the restaurant, or the taste cheesecake topped with fresh strawberries.  Scents, as well, play a big part  in those memories popcorn in the concession stand, baby oil and chlorine from poolside, and the smells of food cooking in the diner.  I feel the breeze off the Kentucky River caressing my face; I hear the rush of the water over the weir at Lock Eight.  All of these elements supercharged my senses and created such vivid and happy memories within me.  Inside my heart The Wind Mill was not a rundown place whose magic was extinguished by progress of the times.  It lived and was nurtured within my soul.  Pure magic.

Finally, one day Riding the Thunder was born. . .





Deborah Macgillivray is the author of the Award-Winning contemporary romance series, the Sisters of Colford Hall ™(Montlake/Amazon Publishing) and Scottish Medieval Historical series, The Dragons of Challon™ (Kensington Books).  She also has an anthology, Cat O’ Nine Tales, dealing with her favourite subjectsRomance and Felines.

Her titles include:  The Invasion of Falgannon Isle, Riding the Thunder, A Wolf in Wolf’s Clothing, A Restless Knight, In Her Bed, One Snowy Knight, and Cat O’Nine Tales, available in paperback and eBook through Amazon.com and wherever books are sold.  

She now lives in a small town in Northern Kentucky where she is working on the next books in both series.

You can follow her on:

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Regina Carlysle New Release - MAD MOON!!

All the peeps who leave a comment will have a chance to win one of Regina's HOT previous ebooks!  So if you want a great read, be sure and comment!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks so much to my friend, Judith for hosting me her today. I’m sure she’s expecting me to blab a bit about my brand new Ellora’s Cave release and she wouldn’t be wrong about that. As my readers know, I write erotic shifter and contemporary westerns (gotta love those cowboys) and I tend to go back and forth between genres. Over the years, I’ve found it keeps me fresh. One thing I proudly admit is that I am in total love with my High Plains Shifters series (EC) and have just finished the sixth book in this popular series. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the stories, these are all set in a fictional town in West Texas. I’d always wanted to build a world where shifters lived and loved by their own set of rules so I ‘built’ the town of Cloverfield, Texas and populated it with wolves who are cowboys, ranchers, oil men, shopkeepers, bankers and teachers. It seemed only right that I eventually expand this world into other areas and chose to set Mad Moon in a small town in East Texas. This sets the book apart from other books in the series yet I’ve still maintained a strong connection between the two wolf packs. I’m also happy to say that though the other books in the series are novellas and short novels, Mad Moon is a full length story. I just loved writing it and hope you’ll pick it up.

Again Judith…thanks so much for having me here today! Many hugs headed your way.

Where to find Regina Carlysle:


Buy links for Mad Moon

Ellora’s Cave Publishing  http://www.ellorascave.com/mad-moon.html





































Mad Moon
Regina Carlysle

High Plains Shifters, Book 6

Madden Moon knows what she is the second she walks into the old café. Shifter. Wolf. Trouble. Struck by her beauty and the air of exhaustion about her, the leader of the Texas Rogues wishes her straight out of town, but as the mating energy of their species sizzles between them and her enemies approach, he has no alternative but to bring the beautiful lycan under his protection and into his bed.

Runaway Lana Vronski is in big trouble. As she races through the woods, local wolves in hot pursuit, she believes all is lost until she is rescued by oh so sexy Madden. When he offers her sanctuary and sex hot enough to burn them both, she accepts his proposal. But it isn’t until the mating heat between them begins to sizzle wildly out of control that Lana learns her true salvation awaits in his arms. Lana’s enemies are relentless, however, and will stop at nothing as they attempt to rip her from the arms of the man she loves.


A Romantica® paranornal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Except!!

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.
An Excerpt From: MAD MOON
Copyright © REGINA CARLYSLE, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

He scented her the moment she opened the door of the old café. He didn’t know who she was but what she was couldn’t have been more clear.

Shifter.

Wolf.
Madden Moon’s nostrils flared as the rich, spicy smell of the female curled through his brain, igniting base instincts that he promptly pushed aside to reexamine at another time. The she-wolf was an icy blonde, beautiful and wary. Though he’d never been a fan of short hair on a woman, the edgy pixie cut suited her delicate features. Her eyes, even from the distance, were a dark, exotically tilted midnight blue, thickly lashed and currently narrowed as she halted and stood skittishly in the doorway. The stranger shot him a quick glance and the single panicked look spoke volumes. She knew he was shifter too.

For a moment it seemed she’d bolt and head back out into the dark of night but that didn’t happen. His spectacular hearing registered the low growl of her belly. Then as her gaze shifted away, she squared her shoulders and hurried to a corner booth across the room from him.

As High Alpha of the Rogues, it was his responsibility to keep tabs on shifters who might pass through this area of East Texas. This poor, bedraggled little thing didn’t seem much of a threat to anyone. She looked stressed-out and exhausted. Still, he covertly watched her as she ordered something from the menu and gulped down a tall glass of ice water. By the time she’d finished that and started to drink her coffee, the waitress had set a plate containing two large burgers and a heaping mound of fries in front of her.

If he hadn’t known she was shifter by her scent, the woman’s enormous appetite would have given her away.

She glanced up at him and Mad had the good grace to look away. It was hard as hell to avoid staring at her, wondering about her and trying to figure out why she seemed so distressed. He might be a wolf but he was also a gentleman.

Most of the time.

Mad finished off the last of his coffee and leaned back against the faded faux leather of his favorite booth in Joe’s Hot Griddle. The remains of his fried ham, eggs and buttermilk pancakes littered the aged laminate table. The only twenty-four-hour breakfast joint in Sweetridge, Texas, wasn’t even close to being hot tonight. No more than two or three customers filled a room that could easily accommodate eighty. That was fine. It suited his mood. Mad wasn’t in the mood for company nor was he feeling particularly chatty.
Joe Grubbs, the shifter elder who owned the place, wearing a dingy white apron over the girth of his belly, ambled up with a pot of coffee. Without asking, he poured Mad another cup. He tilted his head toward the she-wolf who was busily devouring her meal. “Wonder who she is.”

“No clue but I figure I’ll find out soon enough. Probably just passing through. If that’s the case, she can go in peace.” After grunting his thanks for the coffee, Mad motioned for the man to sit. “Why aren’t you out hunting with the others tonight, Joe?” Mad eyed the older man over the rim of his cup.

Joe shrugged. “Somebody’s gotta earn a buck or two around here. These days I’m feeling my age and those men get out of control with the bloodlust. Thirty years or so ago, I liked hanging with the rowdies, but now the thought of it just wears me out. I took a pass. But I could ask you the same. Figured you’d be out there ramrodding that mangy pack. Instead you’re here and looking morose as hell.”

“Just restless.” As High Alpha, it was his duty to tear up the woods and raise a little hell, all in the spirit of camaraderie and brotherhood, but he didn’t have the heart for it. He didn’t have to be psychic to know something was in the air.

Deep in his bones, he believed something was fixin’ to roll over him like high tide on the Gulf.

Off in the distance, he heard the howl of wolves. His men. His pack. They’d been hunting in the nearby woods for the better part of three hours now and, knowing some of them, their blood would be running high. It was a dangerous time for some of the younger wolves who were known to get into a shitload of trouble after a bloody hunt. When they were finished, they’d be looking for a balls-to-the-walls fight and a fast fuck, in no particular order. Gods help whoever got in their way.

Mad glanced at the woman. If she knew what was best for her, she’d get out of town while the getting was good. One or two of those young pups were downright dangerous and if they happened upon her after the hunt, she’d be in deep trouble. Exhaustion seemed to roll from her body, easy to pick up on, and he knew it would be hard for her to fight off trouble in her current physical state.

Yes, she’d best get the hell outta here pretty damn quick.

Finally he stood and tossed some cash on the littered table then glanced at the pretty lady shifter. He frowned and gave Joe a look. “With the hunt going down tonight, it might be a good idea to give the little blonde a heads up. She needs to hit the road.”

When Joe nodded, Mad shrugged, determined to put some distance between himself and the sexy stranger. 
“Best take off and see what’s what, Joe. You take care now.”

He felt the woman’s eyes on him as he made his way to the door and stopped to return her stare.

A sound similar to white noise buzzed in his ears and fairly rattled his brain then stopped almost as soon as it started. Chills raced over his arms.

What the fuck?


Monday, August 5, 2013

Guesting over at Jerri's Place!

Yep, trying to get the word out about my new release, Micah's Heart.

My buddy, Jerri, is guesting me today!  Be sure and check it out.

Here's her Blog!

Wow, I took off last week and brewed about a story I started last year.  I'm going to finish it soon.

Also, I received my first rating on Micah's Heart too.  The reviewer will contact me when she posts the review this week.

What was it?

A FIVE STAR!!  Whoooppp!!



I'll post the link to it when she tells me.

Hope everyone has a very blessed week!!

Judith
website