Saturday, November 30, 2013

Christine Celebrates the Paranormal with Sweet Sexy Sadie

Title: Sweet Sexy Sadie
Author: Christine Young

Genre: Erotic Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 5

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From the first time Sadie’s eyes met those of Brody McKenna in the hot Sierra Madre Mountains, theirs was a potent attraction—not gentle, slow, and easy, but hot, hard, and all-consuming. The daughter of a dysfunctional family, Sadie had dreams no man could wrench from her with hot sex and an all-consuming passion. She’d challenge this alpha male with all the strength she possessed. But her red hair, fiery temperament, and indomitable spirit obsessed Brody...and he knew he had to find a way to show her he was more than he appeared and convince her to make a life with him.


Sadie didn't know what to make of Brody. Exceptionally handsome and charismatic, he'd made her smile the first time she saw him sauntering down the road toward her. Good lord, but he looked as if he owned the world. Tall, tanned from the sun, amber-green eyes that sparkled as if he saw some light humor in everything. He was wiry and sleek; a quickness about him surprised her. His blue-black hair was tied back with a leather thong, his chin angular.
Perhaps he did own this part of the Sierra Madres. His family seemed to own most of this town.
Her research had brought her to this place, Cactus Junction. Now the prospect of getting to know an interesting man would be an added perk. In the bathroom she slipped out of her clothes and into a tepid shower. A few minutes later she emerged squeaky clean and ready for the next part of her adventure.
Unpacking her clothes and taking out her laptop, she opened it. What do explosive experts do?  Hmmm....
Why, they blow up things. What would he blow up around here?
Lord but that sounded crazy to her. Before typing in the necessary info to pull something up on Google, she leaned back, relaxing into her chair. The wallpaper was outdated, and the old fan complimented the air conditioning. She realized she liked the atmosphere.
Enough musing. Mining in the Sierra Madres. Let's see, it says here they mined silver as early as 1521.
Sadie scrolled down the paper. Ok… Montezuma, in 1492, was already drinking hot chocolate from goblets made of gold. Maybe she should be studying this instead of her research thesis. The migration of butterflies. Once she'd thought the topic was romantic. Chasing after butterflies…
So what are they doing now? Junior drilling companies… She wondered if that was what the McKenna Clan was, a junior company. How soon was too soon to ask? Probably not on their first dinner together. Knowledge brought power and she firmly believed everything happened for a reason. Then her chance encounter in this place was not a coincidence.
This says the companies are drilling to find the ore. So… Do they still need explosives? If not, he didn't do much for his day job. Perhaps the family had millions stashed away. At first glance this hotel was theirs and Brody had told her the land this town sat on belonged to them. But millions in the Caymans? Probably not.
She closed her laptop. Then leaning back, she shut her eyes and tried to cleanse her mind of all thought. A little catnap might be in order, but her heartbeat so fast she didn't think sleeping was a plausible scenario. Eager to meet the McKenna Clan and begin her research, her body was wound tight as a rubber band ready to snap.
The bag of chips in her purse seemed to call to her just after her stomach growled its discontent. Trying to ignore the excessive calories and her empty belly, she rose and wandered to the window. Dinner would be that much better if she waited. Outside, the sun still beat down and one could see heat waves decorate the street.
The air conditioner chose that moment to blow out cold air. Sadie wrapped her arms around herself then turned the monitor down a notch.
Back at the window she looked at the street below. A man walked down the sidewalk, and as he grew closer, he stopped and shielded his eyes then gazed up to her room. Sadie's breath caught in the back of her throat and another chill swept through her. This time it wasn't caused by the air conditioner. The sight of the man sent an eerie feeling to the pit of her stomach. She stepped back in an attempt to remove herself from his line of sight.
The knock startled her away from the window. She jumped, afraid it might be the man she'd just seen but knowing it wasn't.
"Sadie? Sadie, you in there?" Brody called from outside the door. Damn, but she'd recognize his voice anywhere. A smile crossed her face. She meant to forget the stranger.
"Come in." Sadie looked back to the street below. No one was there. Once again she rubbed her arms. She felt as if a ghost had just swept through her, leaving her cold from her core outward.
"You okay?" Brody stepped inside, looking concerned.
"No, I don't think so. I…" Pausing, she hesitated to tell him what had just happened. What she'd felt. He'd think she was crazy.

Friday, November 29, 2013

Christine Presents: Friday's Featured Title

Title: Solar Wind
Author: Carol Ann Lee
Genre: Futuristic Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 3

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Privateer Meets Stowaway: In this sequel to Banner's Bonus, Zeke Slater poses as an average cargo pilot, yet in reality he's a privateer for a secret alliance of merchants turned vigilante. He captains a cargo ship that is covertly super-charged, heavily armed and anything but harmless beneath its benign guise. The mission is to seek and destroy pirate ships marauding the trade routes.

Four years have passed since Zeke worked for Kira's father. Zeke has changed, and Kira, knowing no more than he allows, senses he's up to no good.

Despite the fact that Kira too has changed, Zeke refuses to see her as anything other than his past employer's unruly daughter. 

While sexual tension smolders on board ship, the bad guys lay in wait at the next port.


"Boss, what do y’ make of this?" Frank asked from across the helm, his eyes fixed on an overhead monitor.

Rising from his seat, Slater moved to stand behind his first officer. "Make of what?"

"Portal Screen B." He hitched his chin toward a pulsing red indicator.

Slater paused, his eyes following Frank’s. "Looks like something’s shifted back there."

"Yep, that’s what I figured too, but check this." Frank’s craggy gray brows drew together in concentration as he tapped in another directive. "Unless I’m mistak'n’, I’d say we picked ourselves up some live freight back at Port Chance."

In silent speculation the captain’s eyes narrowed as he watched the security vid-cam quickly replay the last sixty seconds of activity.

"You want me to run a backup on the sensors, Boss?"

"No, I’ve got a better idea." Descending the short flight of stairs to the corridor, Slater snagged his leather jacket and holstered weapon off a hook, wrenching them on as they made their way toward the ship's hold.

Lights snapped to life, and a host of familiar scents greeted them as they stepped inside the cargo bay. It was a pungent mixture of imported rarities, exotic spices, and the distinctive odor of raw textiles.

"Help!" came a muffled, yet decidedly feminine voice. "I want out!"

"Y’ hear that?" Frank asked, his breath forming in the chilled air.

"Over there." Slater’s eyes were focused on a stack of shipping modules lined along the starboard wall. "That damned Celeste," he muttered.

"Celeste? Y’ don’t think she’d be so foolish as t’--"

"I wouldn’t put anything past her." The sleek blue-black barrel of Slater’s weapon quietly slid from its holster as they wormed their way through the tightly stacked freight. If nothing else, he’d give her the scare of her life.

The muffled sounds came again. Stronger. More urgent. The insistent kicking and thumping coming from the far corner.

Thunk! "Somebody, get me out of here!" Thunk! "Please! I’m freezing." Thunk! Thunk!

"Since when did we start haulin’ talkin’ veggies?" Frank asked, grinning as they drew to a halt before a fresh produce pod.

A muttered curse was Slater’s low-voiced reply as he disengaged the lock on the vented pod. "All right, Celeste! Come on out." And with a swift upward motion that belied the weight of the cumbersome lid, he threw it back on its hinges.

"It’s about time somebo--dee..." Kira Delaney’s voice trailed into quivering silence as bright overhead light spilled into the pod--even as Slater’s lips formed an unspoken curse.

Frank’s long, breathy whistle finally broke the silence. "Y’ want me to check the next crate over for Celeste?" he asked, his gravelly voice dripping with unmasked laughter.

No response.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Christine Presents: Highland Honor

Highland Honor
Christine Young
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 3

Scotland November 1512:

A heavy frost sat on the frozen earth, and a full moon shone clearly between the heavy clouds dotting the sky. Lady Callie Whitcomb looked over her shoulder as she raced through the deepening gloom toward the lighted tavern ahead. Every shadow, every mournful sigh of the wind sweeping through the trees, every chilling animal sound filled her with terror. Fear for her life drove her to put all thoughts of danger aside. He would follow her, find her, and drag her home.


"Don't think of that now," she reminded herself fiercely, even while tears stung in the back of her throat and fear made her limbs tremble. "Don't ye dare think of home. It no longer exists." Nothing and no one could coax her back or make her believe there was naught but terror in the home where she'd been born.

"I will never marry Lord Huntington. Never!" she whispered fiercely, the chill night air solemnly echoing her words.

Her stepbrother, Archibald Covington III, made sure she could never return.

"There ye be, lass! I've been waiting for you."

The voice rose from nowhere and surprised her. Her heart froze, lurched, then began an erratic beat, while raw nerves snapped, sending a myriad of sensations racing down her spine.

"Archibald--" she whispered, panic sweeping through her. "He's found me." All she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears.

Before she could reach her destination, before she could find safe refuge from him, his men had found her. No! Not now. Not when she thought she had eluded them all.

A wave of fear sweeping through her reminded her, that if caught, she would be taken back to Archibald and forced to marry Lord Huntington.

"I'll help you down, lass."


Before she could react and spur her horse forward, callous, rough hands centered on her waist then pulled her from her mount.

"No!" She cried out to no avail. Regaining her wits, she beat fiercely upon the man's broad chest, tearing at his face and his thick beard with her fingers.

"Ach, lass! Hold still! I mean ye no harm. Stop this--" His voice was gruff and impatient.

Fear for her life had spurred her haste. Terror she might see Huntington or Archibald with each turn of the road haunted every hour of her journey. Archibald had retainers everywhere. Messages would have been sent. A highlander could be bought.

"Ruffian! Unhand me! Ye barbarous Scotsman."

If Archibald had guessed what path she followed...

"Verra well, ne'er let it be said that I dinna do a lass' bidding." Just as suddenly as he'd grabbed her, his hold upon her vanished. She stumbled backward.

Instantly, she found herself sitting on the frozen earth. The man towering above her watched her with concerned dark eyes. Despite the scar stretching from forehead to chin, his mouth quirked upward in a humorous slant.

"Ye be a handful, lass."

Mary of A Romance Review says, "Overall I liked the story and can recommend it as a worthwhile read. The author has a lot of talent and the plot and tension of the story are well handled."

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Christine Presents: Travel Oregon

Lithia Park
Ashland, Oregon

Lithia Park is the largest park in Ashland, Oregon. It consists of ninety-three acres of forested canyon land around Ashland Creek. The park stretches from downtown towards the headwaters of Ashland Creek near Mt. Ashland. It's name comes from lithium oxide which is found in the stream water.  By the way there is a fountain in downtown  Ashland where the adventurous can taste the water which has a very distinctive flavor.
The park was the site of a flower mill, the first building in the city of Ashland. In 1908 an amendment to the city charter was made setting aside all city owned property bordering Ashland Creek for use as a park.
As a teenager my friends and I loved to go to the park to talk and listen to music. There were few people at the park then now it is a bustling area with an ice rink and playground for the children. Many people use the trail for scenic walks.
Situated above the park is world renowned Shakespearian Festival theaters. The largest of the buildings is the outdoor Elizabethan theater, then the Thomas theater and the Angus Bowmer theater. The Elizabethan theater was built in 1893 and expanded in 1905. In 1917 a new domed structure was built then fell into disrepair. Over time the theater has been used for various things including boxing matches.
The typical season consists of three plays in the outdoor Elizabethan stage, three in the Thomas theater and five in the Angus Bowmer theater.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Christine Presents: Forever His

Forever His by Chrsitine Young
Excerpt Heat Level:
Book Heat Level:

August 30, 1895
Near Buffalo Creek,
South Dakota

The sun beat down. Searing heat waves hit the hard packed earth, blistering, charring everything, even the dry prairie grass. Jacob St. John, his arms stretched overhead and bound to a whipping post, no longer counted the lashes tearing into his back, no longer felt the horrific agony.

More than a half-dozen men and one woman were gathered in the sage-patched backyard of the run-down shack. So far not one person made a sound as they watched Chavez wield the whip, stripping the flesh off his back.

If Chavez weren't so angry and seeking revenge of his own, he would probably have just had him shot. Revenge was a powerful motive. Chavez wanted Jacob to suffer, to yell before he died. It seemed Etta Barringer did too. So far Chavez was toying with him, taunting and teasing him, cutting an inch here, ripping an inch there, not doing much damage but making mincemeat out of his back.

Jacob hadn't made a sound yet, not even a sharp, indrawn breath. He wasn't about to even though he knew Chavez would get impatient and start slashing. There was no hurry. Chavez had as long as he wanted. No one save Etta knew where he was, no one would come looking for him, at least not until the sun went down. By then Chavez would be done with him, and he would either be dead or buzzard-bait. For the life of him, he couldn't figure why Etta would hand him over to Chavez. She had always been Pinkerton to the core, yet she had betrayed him once before. If he survived this, he meant to have answers. He'd move heaven and earth to search out the lying Etta Barringer and find out exactly what she had against him.

The pain of betrayal at the forefront of his mind, and vows of revenge against the instigator of this kept him going. He focused on the woman's laughter and the scent of lemons that permeated his soul.

He had been taken by surprise. Still, he didn't go down easily. It took all of Chavez's men to get him bound securely to the post in back of the shack. And of those men, not one came away from the encounter without a scratch. Blood from the multitude of small cuts Chavez had inflicted ran in rivulets from his back, pooling on the parched thirsty ground, soaking into the dirt, staining it.

He stood, his head proudly erect and that seemed to draw anger from Chavez. The grip of his fingers curled around the top of the post, the only sign of Jacob's pain--and fury.

The first real stroke of the whip felt like a red-hot branding iron searing across his back. Jacob didn't flinch, nor would he as long as he could hear her laughter or smell lemons floating languidly on the breeze. He wished he could see her, stare into her beguiling, green eyes until she knew he'd never stop hunting for her. Fury at his own weakness rose, and the anger he felt deep inside simmered, because she'd always attracted him. Ever since she showed up in a small town in Oregon, seduced him then drugged him and left him to sleep off the opium-laced whiskey, she'd fascinated him.

Concentrate on her--on what you're going to do when you find her again . . .

Christine Young has done it again in this historical romance. The blizzards, betrayal, deceit and a ruthless bandito like Chavez made this a great romance.

Melinda for Night Owl Romance     5 out of 5