Heather Greenis on Critters

I thought I was pretty strong in my beliefs regarding nature until I met an acquaintance. This isn't a person that calls occasionally for a friendly chit chat. Nope, this person lives close by. A couple houses away. I am sometimes honoured with face to face chats with her.

We live in the country. We get critters and lots of them. Deer, wild turkeys, lots of birds, squirrels, chipmunks, you get the idea. Her love of critters can be a bit extreme. Now, don't get me wrong, raccoons have a beautiful face, but, they can be destructive. So can skunks. Given the fact my dog loves the great outdoors even though she sleeps beside our bed, I really don't want either racoons or skunks nosing around on my property.

This acquaintance encourages both raccoons and skunks to set up house around her deck. I'm serious. Yes, their deck is attached to their house. When I complain about the broken bird feeders, she tells me to stop feeding my birds. Apparently her feeders don't attracts the critters. 

"If there isn't any bird feed, they won't go there." 

Ugh. I refuse to argue with that. I'm not going to stop feeding my birds. Not going to happen. 

She came over a few weeks ago, as spring was ever so slowly springing. In late April, I still expected cold nights and the potential for frost. She had put her hummingbird feeder out and wanted me to put mine out. Not trusting mother nature, it was too early. 

"But the humming bird needs food," she informed me. "I don't want him to go hungry. I've had him at my feeder."

"How do you know that? Have you actually seen him?" I asked.

"No. But there is poop on my deck. It's so small, it must be his."

I've never fought as hard to restrain from laughing in my life. OMG.  Send for Bird Poop Analysis. As I relayed the story to my husband, it dawned on me. I think our property value just decreased.

--

Heather Greenis

The Natasha Saga

Greed…Pride...Sacrifice

my website         my publisher 

linked in    FB author page    follow me on twitter@heathergreenis

A Page Straight From Victoria Chatham #apagefromstraightfrom

On Borrowed Time

by

Victoria Chatham

 Lord Randolph Buxton’s old friend, Pinkerton Agent Stuart Montgomery is a long way from his San Francisco home. But his arrival on their doorstep piques the curiosity of both Randolph and his wife, Lady Serena.

Montgomery is investigating an aircraft development company. Four partners have died in suspicious circumstances. Of the two remaining partners one is the owner and the other an old friend of Serena’s. Montgomery thinks time is running out for these two and is sure she and Randolph can help him solve his case. His one reservation in requesting their help is that he fears they will have to face an old adversary, someone who once attacked Randolph and left him for dead.

Randolph is more than ready to assist Montgomery, but Serena has her doubts. How much danger is Sir Hilary really in? Will Randolph’s life be put at risk again? And, most worrying of all, Montgomery shows a side of himself she never suspected, a side she must keep from Randolph at all costs.

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

Serena shook her head. “No, it’s not. You helped save my husband’s life in Cold Creek and I can’t thank you enough for that. And please, do call me Serena. I feel we know each other well enough to forgo the formalities.” 

She sat down again on the arm of Randolph’s chair, aware of an undercurrent of expectation between the three of them. The moment Randolph sprinted up the terrace steps to greet their visitor she sensed that Montgomery must have some purpose, a purpose yet to show its face. 

Her stomach clenched as she took a breath and as calmly as she could asked, “So why are you really here, Mr. Montgomery?” 

“It’s Stuart.” Montgomery returned the first name courtesy Serena offered him, but there was a hint of hesitancy in his voice as he added, “I’m here to ask for your help.” 

“Well, you know you can rely on us to help in any way we can.” Randolph lifted his glass in a cheerful salute. 

Serena’s heart lurched at such a sweeping statement. She shot Randolph a warning glance and tried to control the censure in her voice. “Careful, my darling, you may want to revise that decision when Stuart tells us what he’s working on.” 

After a moment’s thought Randolph asked, “So whatever it is has to do with aeronautics?” 

Montgomery nodded. “An aircraft development company, to be exact. The company is owned by Hiram R. Stillwater whose very loose connection with the Wright brothers sparked his interest in the possibilities of flying. He gathered a group of associates with similar interests together to raise money for his project, but the terms of the contract were odd to say the least.” 

“In what way?” Serena’s raised eyebrow emphasized her question. 

“If one of the partners died, his shares were then distributed between the remaining partners rather than going to the deceased’s family.” 

“Oh.” Serena thought for a moment. “You mean like a tontine.” 

“A what?” Her comment puzzled Montgomery. 

“A tontine,” Serena repeated. “It’s a type of investment plan devised ages ago by a Neopolitan banker, Lorenzo de Tonti. Actually, he didn’t really invent it, only modified it from other types of investment schemes of the time. Each investor pays into the plan and gets an annual dividend on his or her capital, with the shares going to the remaining partners as they die.”

“Serena, there are times when you astound me,” Randolph admitted. “However did you discover that fact?” 

Serena waved her hand at the stacks of books around them and smiled. “There is a world of information lining these walls. I read it a while ago when I was looking for something else. The thing about a tontine is, whoever remains gets the whole pot.” 

“That sounds exactly the same as with Stillwater’s business.” Montgomery stroked his chin as he mulled the thought over. “There were six investors, now there are only two left. Stillwater himself and Sir Hilary Blenkinsop-Brown.” 

“Hilly?” Serena opened her eyes wide in surprise. 

“You know him?” Montgomery asked. 

“We hunted together with the Quorn and Berkeley and . . .” Serena stopped, noticing for the first time the calculating gleam in Montgomery’s eyes. “But you knew that, didn’t you?” 

“I must admit, Sir Hilary did mention your name but I thought it better at that stage to not disclose our association.” 

“Why ever not?” 

The buy link is http://amzn.com/B00IWGKQWG

A Page Straight from Juliet Waldron #apagestraightfrom

Black Magic

by

Juliet Waldron

. 
Goran, the now grown son of Red Caterina and Christophe (as told in Red Magic) encounters a shocking destiny when he returns from years of soldiering to the Heldenberg.

  From Book 2 of the Magic Colours series:          

With an unearthly scream, Count hurled himself forward. For an instant Goran froze, watching as a green miasma flared, as the eye teeth extended. The Count’s long handsome face lengthened; his mouth became a forest of gleaming ivory, his breath an opened sepulcher.

            “Despair and Die, poor fool!”

            Blood beat in Goran’s forehead, in his loins, in his chest. The horns exploded, and he towered over the Count, his body a rippling, muscled mass. Flames shot from his eyes and spat through cracks in his black sinewy hide. He raised an arm, made a fist and roared with such rage that the stone walls of the Raptor’s Nest rocked. 

            “Corpse! Be gone! 

            The Count fell back, raised a hand to ward off the blow. The green orb protecting him wavered. Surprise twisted his features. His pale lips moved rapidly; he cowered. For an instant, he seemed only an elderly gentleman, dressed in shabby, antique clothing. As Goran reached, wanting nothing more than to grasp and crush him, when the green orb changed to black. It coalesced and fell, leaving only a heaving, crackling sooty mass upon the floor. 

            “Mary is mine!” The Count’s last words hung in the air.

             Goran blinked. The spot where the vampire had stood was marked only with a glowing pillow of creosote, like the oily residue of a chimney fire.

             Goran turned around and around in the great room. He was alone, with only the neatly covered furniture and expensive hangings for company. Furious, he threw back his horned head and roared, then stamped and stamped again. The Italian mosaic fractured; the ground beneath the floor shook. He stamped harder, crashed his giant frame into the painted walls till they cracked. A chunk of ceiling fell. He raised his arms and bellowed, called to the over-looking Heldenberg.

             The ground beneath his feet groaned and then swayed. Glass shattered as the great row of eastern windows blew out, but that only served to fuel his fury. He threw furniture through the opening and pulled down the priceless hangings. As his claws grazed wood and fabric, it burst into flame.

             Finally, he hurled himself through the broken windows, and changed again, without so much as an instant’s forethought, into a Langenmeier, long wings spread across the void. Black clouds swirled and boiled down from the heights like an avalanche of darkness. Lightning struck the roof again and again, blasting away slates.

             Below, something enormous moved on the mountain, a huge boulder parting from a stone outcrop directly uphill from the mansion. Slowly, shearing, grinding, and then gathering speed, it bowled toward The Raptor’s Nest.

             Goran exulted when he recognized it—not a boulder at all, but a squat troll, like the one he’d seen on the day he’d rescued the baby Steenbock. Misshapen and gray, bracken waved upon its knobby head. It sometimes rolled and sometimes waddled, thick legs angled wide. With a thunderous crash, it struck the side of the building. Bricks flew into the air; the many-turreted roof began a balletic inward collapse.

             With a deafening roar, the storm arrived, saturating the air with icy water. Goran stretched his wings and pushed away into the rain, aiming for a distant clear line. Studded with twinkling stars, it lay due west.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Coming soon--(I hope October) from Books We Love.
 
 http://yesterrdayrevisitedhere.blogspot.com/

See All my historical novels @
http://bookswelove.net/julietwaldron.php
http://www.julietwaldron.com
 
 

A Page Straight From Jami Gray #apagestraightfrom

Hunted by the Past

by

Jami Gray

Since I didn’t want to touch him, much, I poked a finger against his chest, ignoring the unexpected zap of awareness. “I don’t know how you found me or why, but right now I have other, more important things to do. So, why don’t--”  

The ringing of the phone interrupted my tirade.  

I shot a look at the phone sitting on the counter to our left, and then narrowed my gaze at Kayden. 

He quirked an eyebrow.   

The phone rang again. 

“You going to answer it?” he drawled. 

Stepping back, I plucked the receiver off the cradle.  “Hello?” 

“Cyn?” What do you know, it was Thomas Anderson Gunderson, A.K.A. Tag.   

I stared at the man standing across from me.  “Yeah.” 

“Where have you been? And why the hell won’t you answer my calls?”  Despite his questions, there was a thread of relief in my friend’s voice. Ex-friend, I reminded myself. 

“Why would I?” I gave my answer absently, watching Kayden make his way over to the other side of the counter and take a seat on a barstool.  

In my ear, Tag cursed. “Dammit, Cyn. I don’t have time to explain shit now— ” 

“Why are you calling me?” I cut him off, ice coating every word.  

“Why are you in Sedona?” he shot back, his voice hard. 

“I’m more concerned with how you got this number and why everyone seems determined to turn my cabin in to Grand Central Station.” 

Momentary silence filled the line.  “Shaw’s there?” 

“Got it in one.” 

“Thank God,” Tag muttered. “Be as bitchy as you want, Cyn, but tell me you’re okay. You ran away—” 

“I didn’t run from shit, Tag, I was kicked to the fucking curb as soon as you and everyone else got what you wanted.” 

“That’s not what happened.” 

“Really? Because from where I stood, it sure as hell looked like it.” Silence answered. Turning away from Kayden’s too avid gaze, I tried to regain control so I could kick both of these men back out of my life. “I’m fine, but I’m little busy dealing with my own situation.” 

“What kind of situation?” It actually sounded as if he gave a damn. 

Closing my eyes, I tried to shove aside the urge to bang my head against a wall at the single minded intensity of the male gender.  “My sister is AWOL.  Now, can we just focus on why you’re bothering me and Kayden has decided to pursue a career in B&E?” 

“How long has Kelsey been missing?”  

The urgent note underlying Tag’s question reignited my earlier sense of unease, as if there was something bigger at play here. Worry about Kelsey trumped hurt feelings, so I answered. “Not sure, a couple hours maybe.  Her car is here.” 

The string of oaths spewing over the line from Tag proved no one could swear like a Marine. “Son of mangy bitch,” he muttered, then he took a deep breath.  “The cabin’s an hour and half outside of Phoenix?” He didn’t wait for my answer.  “I’ll meet you up there.  Stay with Kayden.” 

“Tag,” his name came out as a warning of my waning patience. My fingers tightened around the phone, and it took an amazing amount of will-power to not share my own colorful vocabulary. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right. Now.” The last two words emerged around gritted teeth. 

“It’s about Flash. His killer is out.” His unexpected answer stabbed deep, drawing blood under my skin. Brutal memories boiled up and I almost missed his, “Stay with Kayden, Cyn.” 

******
Jami Gray grew up on the Arizona-Mexico border, and was adopted at the age of 14 to suddenly become the fifth eldest of 37 children. She graduated from Arizona State University with a Bachelor’s in Journalism and three minors-History, English, and Theater. (Decision-making was not her forte at the time.) Shortly after marrying her techie-geek hubby (who moonlighted as her best friend in high school) she completed a Masters in Organizational Management from University of Phoenix Oregon.


Now, years later, she’s back in the Southwest where she’s outnumbered in her own home by two Star Wars obsessed boys, one Star Wars obsessed husband, and an overly-friendly, 105-pound male lab. Delving into the wild paranormal worlds where romance collides with suspense and Urban Fantasy is queen, manages to salvage her sanity. Or so we let her believe...



Blurb for Hunted by the Past:

Sometimes death is the only way to out run the past…

A reluctant psychic who can relive the past, a man well versed in keeping secrets, and a psychopathic killer enter a deadly game where the past determines the future.


Changing the past is an impossibility ex-Marine, Cynthia “Cyn” Arden, understands all too well. Struggling in the aftermath of a botched mission, which cost her two teammates, her military career, and a fledging relationship, she’s brought home by a panicked phone call. The psychic killer behind her nightmares has escaped military custody to hunt down the remaining teammates, one by one. Next on his murderous list--Cyn. Her only chance at survival is to master the psychic ability she’s spent years denying.


The killer’s game brings her face to face with the one person guaranteed to throw her off kilter—the unsettling and distracting man she left behind, Kayden Shaw. Once she believed he’d stand by her side, until he chose his job and his secrets over her. A choice that’s left the scars of the past etched deep on her mind and heart.


To survive this twisted game, Cyn must risk trusting her heart and accepting who and what she is, or lose not only her life, but the man she loves.

Available Now:





You can find me at: Black Opal Books: www.BlackOpalBooks.com
Muse It Up Publishing: http://museituppublishing.com
Website: www.JamiGray.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jamigray.author
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/JamiGrayUFWriter
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JamiGrayAuthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/JamiGray
Google+: https://google.com/+JamiGray
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.com/e/B006HU3HJI
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/LvoZn






BUY LINKS:
You can find all the buy links for both books in all formats at:
http://jamigray.com/kynkronicles/
http://jamigray.com/psyivteams/

Welcome Tony-Paul de Vissage

The Aventurieri:  More than Human, More than Vampire

At last, I’ve got a series…about vampires…and I’m going to give you the facts…just the fact, ma’am…

The Premise:  Humans call them vampires; they call themselves aventurieri.  They have their own feudal-based government and laws more stringent than their human brothers, based on a much harsher religion.  They do not kill humans for their blood but have a retinue of servants who supply them in exchange for their protection and care.  Faithful retainers are rewarded with enthrallment which bestows upon them an elongated life span.  Their religion has given them a Prince --the Domnitor--to rule over them, and the myth of a one-eyed king who will deliver his people from the tyranny of their ruler while betraying them to the world of humans.  They fear humans and even those who live in the outside world do so in disguise and caution.  They also have their feuds, romances, insecurities, and secrets.

The Settings:  Carpathius in the Decebral Valley, within the crags of the Carpathian Mountains of Transylvania, Romania; Europe: Vienna, Austria and Paris, France

The Time:  1794-1810

The Story:  The Shadow Lord focuses on one family--the Strigoi--and its leader, the Prince's assassin--the taietor--sent to execute those who break the Principiu, laws handed down from the gods.  This act will result in the murder of the Taietor and his retinue, and send his eldest son on a journey of revenge and self-discovery.  With his younger brothers and sister, Marek Strigoi is banished from Carpathiusm traveling to Vienna and on to Paris, seeking his father's murderer.  He will discover love and a long-hidden family secret, and eventually the strength to accept the fate the gods have chosen for him.

In the midst of this turmoil, a romance blossoms for the still-naïve Marek, his first true love which will stay with him through the centuries,

EXCERPT:

Commanding them to partake of all that was offered, he climbed the dais to his own seat.

The girl was sitting on a stool at the head table.  As Marek slid into his chair, she stiffened and turned to face him.

Gods, she looks terrified.  Must be her first outing.

He smiled to put her at ease, "Good evening, Nurliu," using that little affectionate because she was the prettiest female he'd seen in a very long time.  He placed his forefinger under her chin, tilting her head slightly.

She relaxed just a little, smiling timidly.  "Good evening, Your Lordship."

Marek leaned forward to kiss her.  She started to pull away, then forced herself to be still.  

The next moment, he nearly recoiled as her fresh, unsullied scent flowed over him.  What the Hell--?  Taking her in his arms, he pressed a kiss against her bared shoulder, inhaling deeply the delicate female fragrance of her skin.

"You're human," he whispered the words into her ear so no one else could hear.   "How'd you get here?"

Releasing her, he leaned back to look into her eyes.  He was startled to see that they were a blue, so pale as to be almost colorless.  How could those fool soldiers see those and her red hair and think her one of us? No aventurieri had eyes that color.

"I-I'm the kitchen maid for Madame Lubos." She avoided his gaze.  "I heard her girls talking about what they would be paid for tonight, and I-I wanted the money!"

"You'll have to earn it," he told her solemnly, already envisioning her naked in his bed and surprising himself with the thought.

Her chin went up, though it trembled slightly.  "I'm quite prepared to do that, my Lord!"

"Good!"  Marek turned away, seizing the leg of a roasted bird on the platter before him and wrenching it free of the carcase.   "You'll get your chance soon enough!"

He bit into the drumstick, hearing a slight gasp behind him.  

He swallowed and looked at her, asking sardonically, "You didn't know we ate food, also?  Did you think the meals you prepared were just for Madame Lubos' human customers?"

Pulling a silver of meat from the bone, he offered it to her, and after the slightest hesitation, she opened her mouth, allowing him to place it on her tongue.

Chewing daintily, she swallowed and ate the second piece he held out also.  She selected a pitted cherry from a bowl of fruit next to the fowl, but as she started to eat it, Marek caught her wrist, bringing it toward his mouth.

"I have a particular weakness for cherries."  He bit the little fruit off the stem and released her hand, wondering why she blushed so.

In spite of that, she smiled a little easier and picked up another cherry, rubbing it across his lips and smearing them with juice.  He ate that one, too, and for several minutes, was content to sit there and eat the fruit from her hand.  Her fingers became stained and he licked the juice off them, his tongue lingering against her fingertips.

When he kissed her again, he could taste her own sweetness under the flavor of the cherry juice.

The Shadow Lord is the first in the Second Species series, published by Double Dragon Publishing (Canada).

Youtube: http://youtu.be/oB9flkJu6P0

                   http://youtu.be/7aXa6nYenbY

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Second-Species/267805643283799

Buy at Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Shadow-Lord-Tony-Paul-Vissage-ebook/dp/B00GH0YJP4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1383749411&sr=1-1&keywords=Shadow+Lord+by+Tony-Paul+de+Vissage

Buy at Double Dragon Publishing: http://www.double-dragon-ebooks.com/single.php?ISBN=Shadow%20Lord

Welcome Jen Black

I have to confess I would never have made a musician or an accountant, because I cannot sing true and numbers go straight through my head. But I have always been able to string sentences together. I used to fancy my essays at school were very good. Then I grew up and all the doubts and insecurities of adulthood rushed in. I realised what a labour and how good you had to be to write a book for publication. Reading was so much easier! And so I read anything and everything. When the urge to write struck again, I wrote Banners of Alba, about a young man in tenth century Scotland struggling to hold onto his birthright in spite of devious uncles and cousins. It was published in 2005 and if I edited it again today it would be a few thousand words less! By now I have learned to be more sparing with my love of words. Over the years I’d read so much history and studied it at university, I felt I could claim I knew my subject.

Harriet Klausner liked the book. “Though there is a major romantic subplot, THE BANNERS OF ALBA is more a magnificent medieval fiction that brings to life the twelfth century through the power struggles. Readers will appreciate the internal dilemma confronting the hero as he must choose between two paths filled with deceit. Symbolically the two women in Finlay's life represent the choices he has. As the champion learns that picking what he deems is good for Alba is not necessarily good for him, readers obtain an exhilarating historical thriller starring a hero worth rooting for." Harriet Klausner. 

When I started writing it was on a typewriter, the kind that required effort to punch those keys. Then I got an electric model and a few years after that along came the first computer and writing became, in one sense, laughably easy.

When Banners was published I had another story ready to go. This one, Dark Pool, concerned a Dark Pool suffers at the hands of the Dyflin Vikings and narrowly escapes death in the blazing war-torn rubble after an attack by Waterford Vikings. One reviewer claimed this book was too gritty to be a romance, but I leave that to the reader to decide.

The hero of Banners, newly proclaimed as King of Alba (the old name for Scotland) sets out, much against his will, and hampered by her argumentative brother, to retrieve her. 

In Far After Gold the hero Flane buys the heroine Emer as his bedslave. Surprisingly, (or perhaps not in the land of romantic fiction!) they fall in love and struggle against outside forces that threaten to part them. Katla, the chieftain’s daughter, wanted Flane as her bridegroom and resented Emer from the day he brought her home. When she accuses Emer of theft, Emer runs away and faces all kinds of danger. By the time this book was written, self-publishing was newly on the scene, so I decided to give it a go. The advantages are that I can control everything about the process – change covers, prices, and know exactly what the sales are.

Fair Border Bride first saw life as a paperback with the title Til the Day Go Down, which was a quote from an old border ballad. When the publisher failed, I re-wrote large sections gave it a new title and put the book up for sale on Amazon Kindle in 2011.

Set in 1543 along the border country between England and Scotland, Alina and Harry have only just met when her father threatens to kill Harry because he belongs to the hated Scott family. With the help of Matho, guard captain of Alina’s home, Harry escapes, but their problems have only just begun.Full of wry border humour, this book introduces Matho Spirston, the hero of a more serious historical novel I have out now on submission to agents.

Reluctance is published by MuseItUp Publishing, a Canadian company. The setting of the story is very close to where I live and I often walk in the grounds of Gibside estate, now run by the National Trust, and ponder the lives of those who lived there in years gone by.

In 1803, Frances is happy with her life as a rich widow until two men appear in the neighbourhood. Jack she knew as a child, but fails to recognise the man he has become. Holgate cuts a fine figure in his regimentals and impresses Frances's mother rather more than Frances. A frightening episode with Holgate leads Frances and Jack to consider a marriage of convenience, but that leads to problems neither envisaged. For reasons of his own, Jack refuses to consummate the marriage and Frances cannot bear it. The penultimate chapter, where she confronts him, strips all emotions bare.

Melanie Grey endured a bitter marriage which ended in an accident that killed her aged husband and left her facially scarred. Unable to claim her dower rights, she travels north to Northumberland in hope of a quiet life as housekeeper to Lord Jarrow. She soon discovers he has secrets, and her curiosity grows. Unexplained night time activity, and a shooting that almost kills Jarrow - can Melanie deal with these things and make a new life for herself in the country?

I’ve walked, ridden and driven through and around all the places I write about, and love delving into the past. Narrow alleyways in old towns lure me in every time! 

  A quick link to all my books is here:  http://www.amazon.co.uk/Jen-Black/e/B003BZ8JNQ