Cover Reveal - Sarah's Hope

I'm pleased to share my new cover with you.  Sarah's Hope...a continuation of Sarah's life will be released soon by Books We Love.  I'm closing in on writing "the end."  I'm hoping everyone who read  Sarah's Heart and Passion will want to explore life a little further with Sarah.
If you want to purchase your own copy and be prepared...all my books are available via my Amazon page.  Oh...this beautiful cover was done by Michelle Lee.

 BLURB:

Sarah Collins first began her journey on a wagon train bound for old west and met a man who’d become the love of her life. After waking from a dream she believed truly valid, she met her half Lakota-half-white man again…this time for real and in Manhattan…and married him.  Now Nathanial Elder (AKA Wolf) is dead at the hands of a drunk driver, and Sarah Elder is trying to get past her grief and get on with life.  Somewhere, somehow, she angered someone and she hasn’t an inkling who or how.

Frightening phone calls, death threats, and police investigating for clues turn Sarah’s life into sheer turmoil. Another dream about Wolf adds even more confusion, and best friend, Marie, who is staying with Sarah until the culprit is caught doesn’t take things too seriously until the caller obviously knows all about her, too.

 A murdered policeman, a stranger who seems to know everything about Sarah’s past, present and future, makes the danger astonishingly real. Will the police discover the person who eventually kidnaps Sarah, and will they save her before the killer sends her soul to the great beyond?  Has Wolf intervened from the grave to lend help in keeping his wife alive?  

Sunday Snippets by Ginger Simpson #sundaysnips

I'm baaaack! and this week sharing a sample from a Novella coming soon from Books We Love, The Pendant.  This is going to be a re-release and probably one of the hardest works I've done because there really is no hero or heroine...just a story about an inanimate object.  Enjoy:

 Sheila Townsend hauled open the heavy cathedral door and slipped inside. She scurried up the long aisle into the safety of the confessional and collapsed. Panting, she creaked open the little sliding door. The priest’s outline loomed on the other side.  

"Father, forgive me, for I have sinned.” She swiped at her bangs, wet from the fog outside.

“How long has it been since your last confession?” The priest’s voice filtered through the mesh between them.

“Six months, Father.”

 “Tell me of your sins, my child.” 

“I-I’ve had evil thoughts and fear I’ve done something horrid.”

“What have you done?”

“I might have killed someone because of the curse.”

“Curse?”  His deep voice climbed an octave.

“Yes, the one that plagues this necklace.”  She dangled a chain close to the screen. “I must leave it here with you and stop this madness.” 

Sheila rose, dropped the silver pendant onto the shelf separating parishioner from priest, and fled without another word. She paused at the door long enough to secure her scarf over her head and pull her coat collar higher. The stained-glass window, an image of the Holy Mother, she’d seen before looked far less impressive at night than when the sun shone through the tinted panes.

 Sheila pressed her weight against the door, allowing the breeze to flicker the candles at the altar. The gripping hatred that had consumed her for the last month melted away like snow in springtime. Gone was the unexplained need to hurt the same person whose picture she’d displayed in the locket.  Now she was free—free from everything except the guilt and memories of plunging a knife deep into her boyfriend’s back. 

Stepping into the misty night, she headed toward the river.  She hadn’t been totally forthcoming with the priest. Her ‘might have killed’ was totally misleading. The police were sure to soon find Andre’s body in her living room, and she no longer had a will to live. She’d made peace with the Lord; now she needed to find peace within herself and what she’d done.

****

Father Finnegan’s brow furrowed at the woman’s sudden departure.  “A curse?”

He stood and pushed through the curtain at the rear of the confessional, walked around and opened the door to the parishioner’s side.  There on the shelf lay the necklace the woman had left.  A silver locket hung from a long chain, and when opened, displayed a picture of a handsome young man wearing a black sweater.  Father Finnegan pinched the locket closed.  The pendant looked entirely harmless—nothing more than a delicate piece of jewelry.

“What have you got there, Father?”

The priest turned to find Sister Mary Catherine standing behind him, her brow raised as always when something stirred her nosy side.

 “A necklace…supposedly a cursed one.”  He laughed. “Me thinks ‘tis the soul of the person who left this beauty behind is the one who needs the blessing.”

“The piece looks to be a great match for the fund-raising bazaar, if you’ve no other plans for it.”  The nun smiled and opened her hand. 

*************************

You can find all my books available on my Amazon page.  I hope you'll enjoy one.

Now, if you'd be so kind as to check out the following links and make sure I still have some playmates on Sunday:

http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)

http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)

http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)

Sunday Snippets from WIP by Ginger Simpson #sundaysnips

I don't yet have a cover, but I'm sharing a few paragraphs from Sarah's Soul which will be available early 2016.  I'm half way done, but I still have a long way to go to try and fool the reader with my attempt at mystery.  I hope Sarah has something in mind...this is her story, and I'm pantser and I rely on her talking to me.  So far, so good....what do you think?  Remember...this is only a first draft.

She rolled her eyes, her mind spinning.  “Jesus, Sarah, it’s only a phone.  Even if it isn’t Marie, a voice can’t hurt you.”  She mumbled words of courage as she crossed the room.  Taking a deep breath, she raised her Samsung to her ear.  “H-hello.”  Nerves made her push out her greeting.

“I know where you are.”

“What, no heavy breathing this time?”  Her decision to go home would end his warning, and she felt brave for a fleeting minute.  Still, the back of her neck tightened.

Silence.

“Well, Mr., you’ll have to find someone else to bug because I’m leaving.  Who you gonna call now if I don't answer, Ghostbusters?”  She laughed, releasing her tension.

“I’ll call you, Sarah Elder.  I suppose you’re going home.  I know where you live.”

“Who is this?”  The tension quickly returned and her voice notched up volumes.

“We’ll talk later.”

His parting chuckle sent shivers up Sarah’s spine.

“Damn!”  She considered calling 911 again, but what good had that done?  Instead she clicked the phone off then back on, and dialed Marie’s number.

“Hello.”  Marie sounded as though she’d just gotten out of bed.

Sarah glanced at the clock.  “For God’s sake, it’s almost ten o’clock, Marie.  Are you still sleeping?”

“It’s Saturday.  I always sleep in on the weekends.”  Only a muted yawn sounded.  “Did you want something….did something happen?  The last question showed her best friend was now wide awake and concerned about Sarah’s problem.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m coming home today and I just had another phone call.  I want you to notify the super and ask him to install a better deadbolt on my door.”

“Whatever for?  You already have one.”

“This time the caller not only said he knows where I am, he knows my name and where I live.  I don’t know what else to do.  I'm scared.”

“Okay, I’ll get the super to change your locks and add a stronger deadbolt.  Don’t worry, sweetie.  I’ll stay with you until we figure out why you’re being harassed and by whom.”

Oh, thanks, Marie.  You don’t know how much better that makes me feel.  This being totally alone sucks.  I never realized how much I miss Wolf.”

“I know, sweetie.  I’m not Wolf, but come on home.  We’ll tackle this together.”

Chapter Break....


Sarah struggled to get her bags up the stairs, then proceeded down the long carpeted hallway.  Her heart raced and she kept glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one followed.  As she passed the apartment Wolf had shared with his sister, Molly, she noticed the door ajar.  Molly’s husband, Gil, had returned just before Wolf was killed and the couple had recently moved back to Missouri.

Maybe the super had shown the apartment and forgot to lock it…or maybe he was inside.  If he’d changed the locks on her place, she no longer had keys. Had he kept them or left them with Marie?  She'd better check. Sarah pushed the door open wider with her foot and peeked inside.  The familiar layout and remembrance of dinners she’d shared during happier days misted her eyes and she blinked back tears.  “Mr. Douglas,” she called, stepping inside.  “Are you here?”

 No answer.

Maybe he worked in the bathroom.  Sarah stepped into the bedroom, but the adjoining bathroom light was off.  For some reason, she was drawn to turn it on.  She side-stepped though the door way, her other hand still firmly locked around the handle of her wheeled bag, and flipped on the switch.  Her free hand covered her mouth to muffle a welling scream.

Scrawled across the mirror, in what looked like blood, was her name…Sarah Elder.  Red spots dotted the sink from the dripping letters.  Reflected in the mirror were letters on the wall written in the same red writing.  She jerked around.  D-E-A-D.  Her heart beat so loud she heard it.

 Who?  Why?  In a panic, she glanced around, noticing the closed shower curtain.  Had it moved or had she imagined it?  Her breath halted and she raced out the door and back into the hallway.

Where was Marie…or Mr. Douglas?  She pounded on her door.  “Let me in.  Let me in.”

Marie opened the door, her brows arched into peaks.  “What the heck is wrong?”

Sarah rushed inside, closed, locked and bolted the door.  Sagging against it, she released her pent-up breath.

“Sarah…what’s wrong.  You scared me to death.”

“Scared you?  Molly’s old apartment was unlocked and the door partly open.  I thought Mr. Douglas might be inside, so I went in….”

‘And…”

“And someone wrote my name across the mirror…in something icky and red.  It looks like blood.”

“You’re kidding!”  Marie gasped.  “Was Mr. Douglas there?”

“No.  I thought I saw the shower curtain move, but I didn’t stick around to see if anyone was behind it.  Whose doing these things, Marie?”  Tears Sarah had held at bay ran down her cheeks.  Someone wrote ‘dead’ on the wall.  Who wants me dead?  Sobs replaced her tears.

Marie hugged her.  “I don’t know, but we should probably call the police.  Did you touch anything in the apartment?”

“J-just the bathroom light, why?”

“Maybe they can dust for prints or something.  I don’t know.  Let me call, and then you’re going to contact your carrier and get your cell number changed.”

Marie used the landline and dialed 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

My friend, Sarah Elder, is receiving  disturbing phone calls and now someone has written her name and the word, dead, in red in an empty apartment near hers.  Can you please send someone right away.  We’re two women here alone.”

“Yes, ma’am.  I’ll get a patrol car headed your way.  Manhattan, right?”

“Yes, Eagle Tower’s apartments on 2nd street.”

“Would you like me to stay on the line with you until the policeman arrives?”


******
As with all my books, this will be available on Amazon.  Now, hop on over to my pals who also blog their Sunday Snippets and see what they have to offer:

http://authorjamiehill.blogspot.com/  (Jamie Hill)

http://triciamg.blogspot.com (Tricia McGill)

http://medievalnovels.blogspot.com (Vijaya Schartz)

http://connievines.blogspot.com (Connie Vines)

http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/ (Juliet Waldron)

If you'd like to join our blogging effort, please email me.  The more the merrier, and we are getting great coverage thanks to you.  See you next week.

Coming Soon ~ Cover of Darkness by Jamie Hill

My summer writing project is to complete book three in my latest series, Witness Security. Cover of Darkness tells the story of US Marshal Ben Markham  and ADA Addison Decker. 

Enjoy a preview of this coming soon title!

-----------------------------------------------------

Six months earlier

Kansas City, Kansas

“Let’s call it a night. Have a good one, you two.” Mitzi Pomeroy flipped the lock on the front door to her club then waved to the last remaining bartender and waitress. It’d been a busy night and her feet were killing her. She climbed the spiral staircase to the second floor and slipped into her office.

The plush sofa looked inviting, but she didn’t care to stick around any longer than necessary. It was freezing cold outside. She simply wanted to finish the last of her bookkeeping and go home to a warm bath and a glass of white wine. Her thigh-high boots were rubbing one leg wrong, so the first order of business was to remove them. She sat in her desk chair and unzipped the black leather, peeling the boots off one at a time. Picking them up, she swiveled and set the boots aside for another night. She had some warm Uggs to wear home.

Mitzi massaged the ball of one foot for a moment before firing up her laptop to go over the night’s receipts. Removing her cell phone from her pocket, she scrolled through messages for anything important. Nothing that can’t wait. She set the phone aside and turned her attention to her computer.

Business had been as brisk as the weather. Something about cold nights brought people to the club in droves. When she saw the impressive numbers she could only smile. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

A loud crashing noise from downstairs caught her attention. Something had fallen over. Dave and Tricia were normally quick about leaving. She couldn’t imagine they were still here.

Mitzi padded out to the hallway in her nylon stockings and leaned over the railing. “Dave?” she called loudly.

There was no answer.

“Tricia?”

Nothing.

Damn it. Slightly irritated, she trounced down the stairs to see what was going on. If those two were getting frisky in one of the rooms she might just let them have it. The place was closed. They could take that stuff somewhere else. 

The club was dark and quiet. She didn’t see anything out of place, and wondered what had made the crashing sound. She walked through the bar area and flipped on the first light switch she came to.

Dave was lying on the floor, a pool of blood forming under his body. Stunned, Mitzi covered her mouth with her hands. She bent down to look at his face and spotted a bullet hole in the middle of his head. She still didn’t understand exactly what had happened, but something was terribly wrong.

She turned and saw Tricia’s body lying a few feet away with another bullet hole and a similar pool of blood. Panic gripped her as terror coursed through her veins. Mitzi struggled to remain calm. Must call nine-one-one. 

Patting her pockets frantically, she remembered the cell was on her desk upstairs. No time for that, she hurried to the regular phone on the wall by the hostess’ stand. She grabbed the receiver, but before she could dial, another noise brought her focus back to the bar.

A man dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie rose from behind the bar, his arms full of liquor bottles. He looked at Mitzi and his eyes narrowed.

She’d never forget the vicious expression on his face at that moment.

He yelled over his shoulder, “Someone else is here!”

Another man appeared wearing the same attire and carrying a loaded canvas bag. “Fuck!” he swore and dropped the bag. 

They’re robbing the place. She didn’t have time to complete her call. She had to get out—fast.

The second man reached behind his back and pulled out a revolver, aiming it at Mitzi.

She glanced around. There was nothing on the hostess stand except paper and pens, but right next to it was a table where they kept a bowl full of promotional giveaways. Currently, it held pink and black stress balls for patrons to take and use as desired. The balls had ‘pleasure or pain?’ printed on them. Mitzi had thought it was cute at the time she’d ordered them.

She grabbed one of the palm-sized rubber balls and chucked it at the head of the man holding the gun. Her aim was off and she missed. But he ducked, which gave her enough time to make a break for it.

Mitzi raced to the front door, unlocked it, and ran shoeless and screaming into the frozen night.

------------------

Coming this fall to Books We Love, Cover of Darkness, Witness Security, Book 3.

http://bookswelove.net/authors/hill-jamie/

A Page Straight From Ginger Simpson #APageStraightFrom

Yellow Moon

by

Ginger Simpson

Coming Soon

After many nights spent pondering a way to escape while bound in her blankets and now yet another day of trying to find a comfortable rhythm tied to a plodding horse, Yellow Moon closed her eyes and pretended the motion was the gentle rocking of a canoe as Ate fished for their dinner.  She pictured the sky blue water, the sweet smell of the wildflowers wafting on the breeze, and her beloved ate, determination showing on his face as he searched for the biggest catch.  Keeping the peaceful picture in her head proved difficult.  Her entire body ached, her hands were numb, and her head hurt.  Why was this happening to her?  No answer came, but a dark void called to her and an exhaustive sleep claimed her.

Cheers and ululations woke her.  The shrill noise the women made reminded her of welcomes she’d lent voice to, and tears blurred her eyes.  She raised her face to see tepees and a crowd swarming the horses.  Would the women stone her as she had heard happened to others?  In all her moons, she’d never seen a captive mistreated by her tribe, but she wasn’t blind to the fact that torture happened, often out of sight of children.  She chanted a prayer to Wankan Tanka to spare her life.

Conversations among the people were in a Siouan dialect, and most words were discernable.  Her captors were Crow, known to be bitter enemies of the Sioux and Cheyenne over territorial disputes.  In the light of day, the symbols painted on their horses were visible, and she learned the name of the man who abducted her...Plenty Coup. 

He untied her and pulled her from the horse...one she recognized as belonging to Thunder Eyes.  The Crow had not only stolen women, they’d taken the animals as well.  Would her husband-to-be come after her?  How could he without his stallion to carry him?  Did he even know who took her and the others?  She stared bravely into the face of Plenty Coup.  “Why did you bring us here?”

“They...” he pointed to the other women, will become slaves and serve my people, but you...” He stood back and ran his gaze up and down her body.  “You, I think I will take as my wife.”

She gasped.  “You cannot.  I am promised to Thunder Eyes of the Santee.

“That makes my plan even better.  I cannot think of anything more vengeful than taking his woman...unless of course I....” Plenty Coup slashed his forefinger across his throat to emphasize his meaning.

Yellow Eyes lifted her chin skyward and let the sun wash over her face.  Pretending she was back at the Sun Dance and dealing with the fear of becoming wife to another Sioux didn’t change a thing.  She turned pleading eyes to her captor. “Please do not hurt Thunder Eyes.  I will not resist you as long as you promise to let him live.”

“Then tomorrow, I will have my wife, Pretty Shield, ready you for the ceremony.”

“Your wife?”  Yellow Moon’s jaw dropped open.

Yellow Moon is my current WIP and almost finished.  Books We Love will be open to submissions again in January, and this will be one of the first emails they receive.  It's been a long time in the works because I'm a pantser and Yellow Moon has been a spoiled brat to work with.  She rarely talked to me...until recently.  I hope you enjoy this teaser from somewhere in the story.

Ginger's Sunday Sampler of What's to Come...

Although my passion is primarily western historical novels, sometimes my muse comes from an entirely different setting with a story to tell.  I'm happy to present a little sample of my "coming soon" mystery suspense, A Novel Murder.  I already have the cover and I'm so stoked I had to share it here for the first time.  Consider this a debut of another Michelle Lee creation.  Now all I have to do is tie up the lose ends and get the story to my publisher.  I think Michelle's cover art is the kick in the pants I need.  :)

Blurb:

Unexplained visions, murder and mayhem…that’s what Michelle’s life has come to, and she desperately wants out of her detective position to be behind her own desk, being the author she’s forced to conceal behind a pseudonym.  Even though the fodder for her first book came from past cases, if she can just write her break-through novel under her real name, she’ll leave the force, switch her genre to romance, and pursue the relationship she wants with her hunky partner. His desire is evident, but fraternization on the job is forbidden, and she can’t gamble with the income she needs. Still, maybe those horrible visions seen through the killer’s eyes will go away for good if she’s no longer part of the local police department.

Excerpt:

 The smell of decomposition hung heavy in the air of the small bedroom--a nauseating odor that defied description. A homicide detective in Philadelphia for nearly five years, Michelle Wallace still found dealing with death unsettling. She clutched a tissue to her nose, nerves shuddering through her as she surveyed the posed body of the deceased. In the queen-sized bed, a young woman in her late twenties or early thirties, lay with hands and arms crossed over naked breasts, her blue eyes fixed in a permanent stare. Her mouth, lips painted bright red, twisted in what was probably her last attempt to scream. The piece of rope embedded around her throat left ligature marks on her otherwise flawless skin.

The room hummed with activity. Uniformed officer, with gloved hands, went through drawers and the closet. No one dared touch the body until the medical examiner arrived. Michelle already knew what he’d find as the cause of death. She’d seen the whole thing happen. Not literally, but in an unbidden vision; something she couldn’t help.

Shell’s gaze shifted to the nightstand, specifically the novel laying there, The Perfect Crime by M.D. Lynch. If only her fellow officers knew she authored the book. Her pseudonym, consisting of her initials and her mother’s maiden name, kept her writing persona separate from her professional side. Although proud of her work, she dared not brag. They guys would never let her live down the fact that she used some past cases to pattern her storylines. Only her mother and her best friend, Naomi, knew about Michelle’s fiction passion, and they’d been sworn to secrecy. No book signings or personal appearances for this author until she wrote a breakthrough novel and could earn her way as an author, and leave the force.

Her attention flipped back to the hectic scene transpiring around her, especially the three officers ogling the shapely corpse. She gave a dismissing wave. “Shoo, get on with your job. There’s nothing to see here.” She rolled her eyes, disgusted at the lengths men would go to in order to glimpse a bared breast--even on a dead woman.

Michelle’s partner, Tony Rizetti, turned from the building super in the hallway and came inside. He eyed the body, his brow raised. “How long you think she‘s been dead, Meesh?”

God, she hated his nickname for her. Why couldn’t he call her Shell like everyone else? So many times she’d asked, but the sparkle in his eye when he defied her showed his stubborn side.

Already certain of her answer, she shrugged at his question. “Three, maybe four days--but that’s just a guess.” The lie about the time involved rolled off her tongue as smooth as butter. She turned and eyed the body, knowing for sure that exactly three days ago the woman had been brutally attacked and murdered.


*****************

I hope you enjoyed my little teaser and that you'll be on the look out for it. Watch the coming soon section t Books We Love for the actual release date, and while you're there, check out all the new releases, including the "special editions."  Also, here's information released on the latest exciting contest hosted by Books We Love:

Ask our readers and friends to visit  http://bwlpp.blogspot.com/2012/09/howling-halloween-contest_8.html

or direct them right to the contest page on our website:

http://bookswelove.net/contest.php