Monday, April 21, 2014

A. K. Michaels


Excerpt and Giveaway by A. K. Michaels



Excerpt

Alex picked up on something he had just said “This time? You said you’ve only been here a few days this time? So you’ve visited Scotland before?”

Zach confirmed that he had. “Yes I was here before but a very, very long time ago.”

She was looking at his profile and questioned him. “When?”

Zach’s face looked thoughtful as he answered. “Well, let me think, it was during the late 1800s I think, 1898 or thereabouts. It was a very different place then.”

Alex could only stare at him. 1898 oh my God, that can’t be right, she thought. “Sorry but did you mean 1998?” she whispered and Zach’s head shook as he answered.

“No, 1898 give or take a year – yes Alexina, I am very, very old.”





Title: Defender’s Blood Alex’s Destiny 
Author: A.K. Michaels 
Series: Defender’s Blood (#1) 


Genre: Paranormal/Urban Fantasy 
Publisher: Self Published 
Release Date: Nov 2013 


Editions/Formats Available In: eBook & Print



Description

Alex has no idea her life is about to change beyond her wildest imaginings. She is the last in a long line of very special females born for a dangerous task, and she isn't sure she is up to it. Zach, her vampire protector, is just as sure she is.

Demon attacks, angels and even the ultimate, divine intervention, shake Alex to her very core. Can she do this? Can Zach keep her safe? The alternative is unthinkable: demons once more ruling the earth.

Zach has to ensure that Alex puts a stop to this - and quickly!

PLEASE BE AWARE THERE ARE EXPLICIT SEX SCENES IN THIS BOOK - NOT SUITABLE FOR UNDER 18!

Book Links

Amazon CA * Amazon US * Amazon UK * Barnes and Noble * The Book Depository  * Goodreads


About the Author

A K Michaels was born in Scotland quite a number of years ago! She was married at a young age and is a mother to three much loved children. After the birth of her last child she went back to higher education and studied for a year before gaining employment in the banking industry. She worked in that role for a number of years before leaving, both the job and the country.

She lived abroad for a few years before returning to Scotland and finally taking up her dream - writing.

She is the author of the Defender's Blood series of books and two other series, The Witch, The Wolf and the Vampire and also Sabrina's Vampire, together with a Wolf Erotica Novella, Lori's Wolf. Her books fall into the Paranormal/Urban Fantasy genre and she loves writing those particular kinds of stories where she can let her imagination run wild!

She now spends her time reading - everything from Sci Fi to Crime, Erotica to Fantasy, Thrillers to Paranormal Romance. She loves spending time with her family and, of course, writing!

She has Twitter, Facebook Page and a Website.

Author Links

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Monday, April 14, 2014

Gretchen S. B.


Guest Post and Excerpt by Gretchen S. B.



Guest Post

Playing In Your Own Sandbox

All you other writers out there will have to tell me if you agree or if I am a crazy person. I used to want to be an actress. To play different characters and bring them to life to entertain others. Then I started seriously writing and realized that suited me several times better.

When I was acting the world was already created and structured for me. Sure every once in a while you can shape a role and make it your own, but usually it is within the parameters of the director and writers. It is like you are sitting in someone else’s sandbox, playing with the toys available to you.

When I really started writing I realized that I could set all the rules, I could build the world I wanted to play in from scratch. It was as if I was creating my own sandbox, it could be the shape of a cow with blue sand if I wanted.

Maybe I am just that much of a ‘march to the beat of your own drum’ person, but I can’t imagine not writing now. Not only do I get to create the world but I can’t always skip to the end and find out what happens. I have to write it out and experience the story with my characters. I find that I become so much more invested in the story when it is the world I created verses playing in someone else’s sandbox.



Berman's Wolves
Gretchen S. B.

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Description:

When a scientist runs an experiment on three separate college campuses that goes horribly wrong, several hundred students find their lives altered forever. They must learn to adapt to their new lives as Werewolves. Immediately after the incident a government program was put in place to keep track of these unwitting subjects. After a year the program falls apart as those in charge argue on how to proceed.

Without the programmers constantly looking over their shoulders the werewolves have now started to organize themselves. Creating their own hierarchy and alliances.

Jack is the Alpha of Pacific Northwest University's pack F. He thought the government had finally taken a step back and let him and the other Alphas run their packs. Recently, however, he has been hearing rumblings about the programmers wanting to reinstate the program. He thought they were just rumors until he finds out one of his pack is being threatened by several of the lab assistants that took part in the original experiment. Now Jack must scramble to find allies and hunt down those threatening his pack. The more he goes looking the bigger the plot becomes.

Excerpt

Lyra knew the Weres who jumped her were members of pack L, former lab assistants of Berman’s from Pacific Northwest University. They hadn’t tried to negotiate this time, but had simply jumped her as turned the corner on her way home from the off-leash dog park in her neighborhood.

As soon as she smelled her attackers approaching, she turned to Hazel and pretended to have lost her cell phone. Hazel hadn’t questioned it, just taken Fizgig’s leash from Lyra’s outstretched hand and continued walking to Lyra’s apartment.

Lyra double-timed it toward the park. She knew her attackers would follow. All she needed was enough distance between them and Hazel. Lyra loved Hazel like family, but the other woman was not a fighter. Hazel would try, but she would only be hurt or used against Lyra. It didn’t really help matters that Hazel and Lyra knew all of each other’s secrets. In Lyra’s case some of those secrets could get them killed.

Lyra knew leading the attackers away from Hazel and the dogs was her best and only option. As the outskirts of the forested trail closed in around her, Lyra spun and braced herself for the attack. She could smell the malicious intent like rotting meat rolling off of them. She had one advantage: they didn’t know how well she could fight. Growing up in a predominantly male social group, Lyra had honed her skills. They thought girls were weak. They would underestimate her. Lyra gave a small grin as the three Weres came into view around the bend.

Lyra posed as if she’d been off-guard and was helpless, widening her eyes and shrinking away in horror. The tallest guy headed toward her. Lyra counted, waiting until the last second when his arms stretched out to grab her. She roundhouse-kicked him in the head. The Were crumpled. Weres could take and dole out major damage and Lyra was stronger than most. The blow had landed perfectly, and he’d be out of commission for a few minutes.

The other two men didn’t make the same mistake; they rushed her. Lyra backed up. She needed more room than the thin nature trail provided. She was able to get one punch in to the guy on her left before the other man grabbed her.

Panic began to rise as a strong arm banded around her throat. Screaming to herself, she pushed the panic aside. She struggled to remember the course of action for this type of attack. Using the heel of her shoe, she stomped on her attacker’s foot. Inwardly she swore as she connected with a boot—she couldn’t do any damage that way. His arm tightened, and she knew he meant for her to lose consciousness. That would be bad. She felt the loss of breath acutely and Lyra knew she had maybe thirty seconds to get out of the hold before she was incapacitated.

She gave one swift kick behind her as she dug both her thumbs at her throat to relieve the pressure. Her kick hit true and her attacker cried out as her heel connected with groin.

She felt the man back up and she moved the opposite direction, scanning for the Were she’d punched in the stomach. She didn’t see him, not at first, but what she did see made her curse.


About the Author:

Gretchen happily lives in Seattle, Washington where she spends her time creating new characters and situations to put them in. She also enjoys cheering on her local sports teams, even though it sometimes seems they are allergic to winning.

Gretchen has spent most of her life in Washington state. She graduated from Central Washington University with a BA in History and a BA in Philosophy. Though there was a brief stint after college where she lived in Florida and worked for the mouse (Disney World). She loves that Washington provides a large range of activities, from Shakespeare in the park to rodeos.

She has had a love of reading and telling stories as far back as she, or anyone else, can remember. Currently, she loves to read the same genres she writes. She also loves exploring her home state. At the end of her adventures she unwinds by curling up on the couch, knitting while catching up TV shows via Netflix.

http://www.gretchensb.com/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7398184.Gretchen_S_B_

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Gretchen-S-B/540293959350712

https://twitter.com/GretchenSB








Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Jennifer Allis Provost



Guest Post, Excerpt, Giveaway, and Trailer by Jennifer Allis Provost






Guest Post

When I was asked to create a playlist for COPPER GIRL, it got me to wondering what kind of music the main character, Sara Corbeau, would listen to.

You see, Sara’s world is a bleak, depressing place. Magic has been outlawed (though the government throws it around like cheap confetti), taxes are outrageous, and the only jobs to be had are either in the military or desk work. Add that to the fact that her father and brother have been missing for over ten years, and that she hasn’t had a date in forever.

Naturally, Sara would want to listen to something happy.

Being that one of Sara’s two main joys in life (before meeting Micah, that is) is her car, she would have a ready supply of driving music. And, being that one of her other joys is hunting through flea market stalls, her driving music would be made up of classics.

Don Henley – Boys of Summer

Journey – Don’t Stop Believing

Fear Factory – Cars

David Bowie – Always Crashing in the Same Car

Then, Micah appears in Sara’s dreams, and, soon thereafter, her bed. Their attraction is strong, so strong that it freaks Sara out. Still, despite her reservations, she doesn’t want to let him go.

The Cure – Friday

Eurythmics – Sweet Dreams

Oasis - Wonderwall

Def Leppard – Love Bites

About that last song… Well, things don’t always go smoothly in matters of love, now do they? While Sara tries to negotiate the intense emotions evoked by her dream man, she manages to run afoul of the Iron Queen, gets captured by Peacekeepers, and searches for her missing brother, both while awake and in her dreams. How does it all turn out? Pick up COPPER GIRL to find out.





Excerpt Chapter 1

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

My office, like most modern offices, cranked the air conditioning down to Arctic proportions during the summer months. Consequently, we workers arrived in the morning dressed in sandals and sleeveless tops, donned heavy sweaters upon reaching our desks, and ended up shivering by noon. Ironically, when our workday ended we were hit by a wall of oppressive heat the moment we stepped outside the main doors. No, this wasn’t a flawed system in the slightest.

That day, I wasn’t having it. I had the grand idea of spending my lunch hour outside, away from the icy wind stiffening my fingers and chilling my neck. After I unwound myself from the afghan I kept in my desk (and only used in the summer months), I gathered up my lunch and my phone and headed out for an impromptu picnic in my car.

What I hadn’t considered was that the office runs the air conditioning so cold because it was, well, hot outside. Very hot, in fact. So hot that the cheese was melting in my sandwich and the lettuce looked like something that had washed ashore months, maybe even years, ago. I was parked in the shade and had taken down my car’s convertible top, but I still couldn’t manage to get comfortable. I’d already shed my sandals and cardigan, which left me wearing my sundress and…

Dare I?

I glanced around the parking lot of Real Estate Evaluation Services, the ‘go-to firm for all your commercial real estate needs’, according to the brochures. No one, human or drone, was taking a noontime stroll, and, by virtue of my being on the far side of the lot, no cars were near mine. Most of my coworkers didn’t even have cars, so the lot was rarely more than half-full. What was more, from where I sat, I couldn’t even see the office.

I dared.

I took a deep breath and channeled my inner wild woman, then leaned the seat back and slipped off my panties. Removing that small bit of cotton made an incredible difference, and the heat became somewhat bearable. Enjoyable, even. 

Was that a breeze?

Ignoring my decrepit sandwich, I fully reclined the seat, set the alarm on my phone, and closed my eyes. A nap. Now that would make today bearable.

Suddenly, he is there.

Here.

Kissing me, holding me.

I know I’m dreaming, because he’s perfect. His lips are soft but insistent, his hands gentle. I glide my fingers across his back, feeling thick cords of muscle, before sinking my fingers into his hair. It’s superfine, like cobwebs, and when I crack an eyelid, I learn that it’s silver. Not gray or white, but the elegant hue of antique candlesticks and fine flatware. Cool.

I squeeze my eyes shut again, not wanting the dream to end any sooner than it has to. He kisses me once more, and I can’t help melting against him. His hand travels up my leg, up past my hip… shit! No panties!

I try twisting away, but he already knows. I feel his mouth stretch into a smile, and he moves to nuzzle my neck. “What’s your name?” he murmurs.

Sara,” I reply. “Yours?”

Micah.” By now, his hands have traveled to my waist, and he slides one around to stroke the small of my back. “Why did you summon me, Sara?”

I didn’t,” I protest. “I don’t know how.” I would say more, but he nibbles a trail from my neck to my shoulder, and pushes my dress to the side. As for me, I let him .

Micah raises his head, and I get a good look at him for the first time. His eyes are large and dark gray, like thunderheads, his features chiseled into warm caramel skin, and his unruly mop of silver hair seems to float around his head. He wears an odd, buff-colored leather shirt, made all the odder in this heat, and matching leather pants and boots. Boots?

You did summon me,” he insists. “My Sara, you must tell me why.”

Does it matter?” I ask. I pull him back to me, kissing him with all the passion I’ve never felt with anyone during my waking hours. Micah kisses me back, fingers deftly unbuttoning my dress while his other hand rubs my lower back. I’ve never felt so free, so alive as I do in Micah’s embrace, and I have no intention of rushing this. None at all.

My phone screamed for attention, thus ending the best dream that had ever been dreamed. Ever. I fumbled to silence it, then shook myself back to reality. I still felt warm and glowy from the dream, almost after-glowy. It wasn’t until I stretched and got tangled in my clothing that I noticed anything was amiss.

The straps of my dress had slid down around my elbows, and the dress itself was unbuttoned to my waist. What’s more, my bra was all askew and a nipple was dangerously close to freedom. I shot a quick glance around the parking lot as I fixed my clothing; luckily, there was no one around, either of the human or robotic drone persuasion. I hoped no one had gotten an eyeful of how I was apparently fondling myself in my sleep.

Some dream. Soon enough, I got the top half of my dress squared away and reached into the passenger seat, only to come up empty. My panties were gone.

Great. Either one of my coworkers had found me sleeping and stolen them, or a randy squirrel had absconded with my delicates. Hoping for the latter, I stuffed my feet back into my sandals and returned to the office and my ever-growing mountain of paperwork.

Speaking of the mountain there was a fresh sheaf of reports on my desk, ready for sorting. My title, if it can be called that, is Quarterly Report Collator.

This impressive moniker means that I have the ability—no, make that the responsibility—to place various documents and reports in their proper order, usually alphabetically. I’ve even been known to utilize ascending numbers when the occasion warrants, a feat those who get paid far more than I do cannot seem to manage. As long as they keep paying me, I’m fine with my place on the food chain, low though it may be. It sure beats the alternative--a luxurious but caged life as a sellout government shill, performing spells on command as if they were parlor tricks. My family may have lost much, but we still have some pride left.

I dove right into the heap of reports, for once appreciating the mindless work since it gave me the mental space to dwell on my dream lover. Why would a man in my dream claim that I’d summoned him? And what was with his getup? Micah had looked like he should be playing the part of a swashbuckling hero in a trashy romance novel, not hanging around in the parking lot of a midsized corporation specializing in commercial real estate acquisitions and liquidations.

And his name: Micah. I was certain that I’d never heard it before, which puzzled me. If I were going to create a dream lover, wouldn’t I give him a regular name like Tom or Joe? A name I was at least familiar with?

I swiveled in my chair and called up my search engine. We are not, under any circumstances, supposed to use this bit of technology that is standard issue with each and every one of our ergonomically correct workstations. I’m not quite sure what the punishment for internet usage is, but I’ve always imagined ninjas dropping out of the ceiling and hauling me off to their lair. After enduring a mild torture session, I’m given a cup of hot sake and sent on my way.

I could have waited until I got home. I had a nicer computer and better, faster internet access than the office does, but I couldn’t wait. Not while the image of Micah’s thundercloud eyes still burned in my memory, inciting not-safe-for-work thoughts.

I typed in Micah: define, and the results page immediately listed a bunch of Biblical references. Mmm, not exactly helpful. I clicked around for a while until I found one of those sites that specialized in the meaning of names. It read thusly:

Micah ( mī ' kə ) he who resembles God.

Huh. My dream man was certainly attractive, but I didn’t know if I’d go so far as to call him a god. Then I remembered that there was a type of stone called mica, which also seemed like an unlikely source for me to pull a name from. In the midst of typing mica: stone, I was interrupted.

Hey, beautiful.”

I glanced up and saw Floyd, the office sleaze, hovering at the edge of my cubicle. Better and better. I clicked off the browser and nonchalantly swiveled away from the keyboard. To throw the ninjas off my trail, of course. “You and Juliana heading over to The Room tonight?” he asked.

The Room is a local hangout, stocked with stale beer and watered-down liquor, not to mention a floor that has never, ever been mopped. Not. Even. Once. But it’s cheap and close to the office, so we all go. Since I started working at REES, I’ve been a regular. “We haven’t discussed it.”

Everyone’s going,” Floyd pressed. “C’mon, I’ll buy you a drink. You like gin and tonic, right?”

I heaved the stack of reports from my lap to my desk and uncrossed my legs, squarely planting my feet in order to deliver the Keep Away From Me speech to Floyd yet again, when I remembered my lack of undergarments. Quickly, I snatched my afghan from where I’d tossed it before lunch and spread it across my lower body like a shield.

Whatever,” I mumbled, which Floyd counted as a victory.

See you there,” he drawled. I hate him.

I spent the rest of my shift with my thighs clamped together, having mild anxiety attacks whenever I stood. Or sat. Or reached for anything. Needless to say, by the end of the day I was more than ready for something eye-wateringly alcoholic. Juliana, my best friend and REES’s office manager, was game, as she usually was, and we made it to The Room in time for happy hour. Normally, I feel like I’m in her shadow, what with her long, dark hair, matching eyes, and the body of a pre-war pinup girl, but tonight I didn’t care. Right about now, a little overshadowing was just what the doctor ordered.

After a few bowls of pretzels, and more than a few cocktails, I confessed my al fresco state, to which Juliana and I clinked glasses and downed a few shots in honor of my missing panties. Floyd, the scum, welshed on his promise of gin and tonic. I really do hate him.


Copper Girl
The Copper Legacy, Book One
Jennifer Allis Provost


Genre: urban fantasy

Publisher: Spence City
Date of Publication: June 25, 2013


ISBN: 978-1939392022
ASIN: B00CXWC7JU

Number of pages: 248
Word Count: appx 80k

Cover Artist: Lisa Amowitz



Purchase it at Amazon or BN

Book Description:

Sara had always been careful.

She never spoke of magic, never associated with those suspected of handling magic, never thought of magic, and never, ever, let anyone see her mark. After all, the last thing she wanted was to end up missing, like her father and brother.

Then, a silver elf pushed his way into Sara's dream, and her life became anything but ordinary.

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/Ml9Q3WmSHBw







About the Author:

Jennifer Allis Provost is a native New Englander who lives in a sprawling colonial along with her beautiful and precocious twins, a dog, two birds, three cats, and a wonderful husband who never forgets to buy ice cream. As a child, she read anything and everything she could get her hands on, including a set of encyclopedias, but fantasy was always her favorite. She spends her days drinking vast amounts of coffee, arguing with her computer, and avoiding any and all domestic behavior.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jennallis

https://www.facebook.com/copperraven

Twitter: @parthalan

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Thursday, April 3, 2014

Maggie Mundy


Spotlight on Hidden Mortality with Guest Post, Excerpt and Giveaway by Maggie Mundy


Hidden Mortality will be on sale for .99 throughout the tour so if you don't want to enter the contest you can still purchase the book at an amazing price! You can't loose at .99 cents




Hidden Places from my Past

People often say write what you know. If you are writing epic fantasy in a make believe world this is not so easy. The first book I wrote which is still sitting on my computer was one such fantasy. In Hidden Mortality, the second book I wrote I decided to stay nearer to home.

I grew up in Bristol, England a long way from Australia where I currently reside. Cara is the heroine in my book and lives in Bristol. Bristol has a colorful past as a seaport. It was a major dealer in the slave trade where many a fortune was made. The port is now outside of the city at a place called Avonmouth, which is where one of the bodies is found in the book. The killer had hoped the tides would take the body out to sea.

The antagonist Vincent lives on The Downs in Bristol. It is a beautiful grassed area surrounded by woodlands. People play in the day but there have been murders and assaults under the cover of darkness. Isambard Kingdom Brunel was a great engineer in the 1800’s and built The Bristol Suspension Bridge. To this day people still go there and throw themselves off to commit suicide. One lady who did survive was at the beginning of the last century. She wore a crinoline that acted as a parachute. Bristol is now a modern thriving city with great nightlife.

The City of Bath is featured in Hidden Mortality as well. Think Jane Austen and you have Bath. It has historic buildings in the Roman Baths where Car’s ancestor Rosie was last seen before her death. There is also beautiful honey colored Bathstone architecture such as the world famous Crescent where Cara and Seth share their first kiss.

My parents were Irish and when I grew up I would visit the Emerald Isle frequently. In Hidden Mortality Cara runs a business called Celtic Dinners where she taps into her Irish heritage. The farmhouse called Waterfall House actually exists and was my grandparents’ home. It is still in the family. You can actually visit there for a farm stay. Dingle is a small fishing village in Ireland and is where my father came from. If you get the chance to go to Ireland put it on your list.

Seth lives just outside of Trowbridge and the cottages you see in that part of the country are reminiscent of his forge and home. You also have the famous White Horse and Stonehenge nearby. If you were like to find out more about the places in my book I have a Pinterest page set up for Hidden Mortality. http://www.pinterest.com/maggiemundy/

Excerpt

Cara kept searching but couldn’t find the book she wanted. The assistant at the empty counter smiled politely as she approached.

“I’m looking for a book called Immortality and Witchcraft, Fact or Fiction,” Cara said.

The woman typed the title into her computer. As Cara waited, someone walked up to the other counter beside her. She turned to look. Her world stopped as she met the slate grey gaze of the man staring straight at her. This wasn’t possible. He couldn’t exist. He was just a dream lover. Yet there he was, standing next to her as big as life.

She tried to smile, but it probably came out as more of a grin. He didn’t smile back. Her legs turned to jelly. If she didn’t breathe, she would pass out. She reached out and gripped the counter. One of them had to look away but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Someone was talking to her and the moment was broken.

“Excuse me.”

“Sorry.” Cara replied, as she forced herself to look at the salesperson. She was afraid if she glanced back, he would be gone. Her imagination must be playing tricks on her.

“It looks like we should have one copy left,” the woman said.

“I think I’m just about to sell it,” the other shop assistant said coming up to the register. “We could order it in for you. It might take a couple of weeks.”

“Please, take my copy.” The man at the other counter held out the book. His voice was deep, exactly as it was in her dreams. She was caught again in his gaze. The world disappeared and for a moment they were the only two people alive locked in the gaze they shared. Her hand went to her chest. She could feel her heart racing at the thought of him being near.

“Thank you, but no I couldn’t. You had the book first.”

“Please, take it. I have plenty of time to wait for another copy to come in.”

She found it hard to say no. Perhaps, it was the fact he was about six three and wore grey bike leathers. They added to the effect of making him look powerful. The shaved head and the stubble on his face gave a menacing look, but she wasn’t afraid of him. This wasn’t right. Her life was wild enough without dream lovers becoming real.

Plus, she wouldn’t want her other dreams to become real as well. She needed to say something, or he would think she was an idiot standing there with her mouth gaping. He held the book out to her. As she took it, her hand touched his. It was such a tiny touch and yet it meant he was real. She felt the heat rising up her neck as she blushed. She also sensed another heat inside her. It was the same way he had made her feel in her dreams.

“Thanks.” Cara paid for her book and listened as he confirmed his contact details. Seth Scanlon. She had a name. She wasn’t really stalking. Taking another book off a shelf, she flipped through the pages. He glanced her way before he left and caught her gaze once more.

She couldn’t fool herself. The look he gave her was so intense she felt he was seeing inside her soul. Her breath caught. She shivered although the shop was warm. For a split second, she considered following him and saying he must remember all the times they had made love.

She could just imagine the expression he would give her. He didn’t know her. She was a stranger. The shop became suffocating as she pulled at the collar of her jumper. She needed to be outside. There was no sign of him on the street. For a moment, she wanted to cry. At this rate, she would give the silly schoolgirls in the shop a run for their money.


Hidden Mortality
Maggie Mundy


Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Soulmate Publishing

Date of Publication: 6th February 18, 2014


ISBN:-13:978-1-61935-329-9

ASIN: B00I911NI0


Number of pages:281
Word Count: 85,000


Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde

Purchase at Amazon

Book Description:

A witch is murdered in 1850 in a ritual that will grant longevity to four men. What they are not aware of is that she has bestowed the same power to another called Seth to avenge her death.

Cara lives in present day Bristol, and is a descendant of the witch. Having been unlucky in love she fills her days with food with her Irish themed catering business. Her nights are another matter; they are full of erotic dreams of a mysterious lover, or nightmares with mutilated bodies. So this wasn’t the best time for her Nana to tell her she is coming into her power.






About the Author:

Maggie Mundy lives in Adelaide, Australia and is a member of Romance Writers of Australia, and the local chapter SARA (South Australian Romance Authors). She recently completed a Bachelor of Arts in Drama and English at Flinders University. She had a short story published in the RWA Topaz Anthology Little Gems in 2010 called Sea and Vines. Over the past year she has had stories on line with Alfie dog in the UK and Antipodean SF in Australia. She has also performed for many years in corporate entertainment for which she wrote her own sketches, which probably explains why her head is so full of characters. She loves writing romance but thinks falling in love can be scary, especially in her stories where creatures of the night really exist.

Twitter  @MundyMaggie

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