Sunday, September 30, 2018

#RomanceSunday #TheLeaderOfTheBand #ContemporaryRomance

Title: The Leader of the Band
Author: Genie Gabriel

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 2

Buy at: Amazon

On stage, band leader Zach Zacata controls the emotions of thousands of fans, but he can't control his middle-aged body. When he has a heart attack, best friend and sometime lover Lauren Westover provides a place where Zach can heal. And Zach realizes he has one more chance to win Lauren's love--if a killer doesn't get to them first.

EXCERPT: The Leader of the Band

Staring at the woman in the mirror, Lauren slowly pushed the gray wig off her head. Her naturally blonde hair lay matted forlornly against one side of her head. As she turned her head, a white bandage became obvious, framed by a semi-circle of close-cropped stubble around her ear where waves of golden hair used to flow.

I could have lost my life instead of my hair,she reassured herself. Still, a spiral of panic threaded through Lauren’s belly. 

Sometimes Lauren disparaged her beauty, especially when lechers with insulting hands expected free access to her body. However, she also knew her physical appearance garnered many opportunities a plain woman never enjoyed. 

Now, hidden out in a retirement center and disguised as an old woman, no one had spared a second glance at her. Hadn't she wanted to be respected for something that didn't depend on good looks? 

A commotion at the door startled Lauren away from her own musings. Zach slipped inside and slammed the door shut behind him. Then he leaned against it, gulping deep breaths of air. His silver-streaked wig hung precariously over one ear; his satin smoking jacket was missing the belt that knotted it jauntily around his middle when she left him less than fifteen minutes ago.

He slid the lock into place and limped toward Lauren. “Whoever said women lose their libido in old age never visited this place.”

He flung the wig on the bed for the cat to play with and sat beside Lauren on the vanity bench. “How are you doing?”

Lauren shrugged. “Have the police found any sign of Matt [my son]?”

Zach’s fingers tiptoed across the bare skin at the back of Lauren’s neck. “Nothing yet. Johnny is spending most of his off-duty time shaking up the homeless hangouts. But they’re a tight-lipped bunch. Don’t talk to cops much.”

Zach’s lips touched the cool skin of Lauren’s nape. “He'll be alright.”

Her shiver this time wasn’t from fear for Matt but the trail of Zach's kisses across the base of her neck. Funny how being in a place with older people had eased Zach’s mind about aging. These men and women hadn’t given up on life when their youth faded. They still indulged their passions and their dreams. They spoke their minds and pursued what they wanted without regard to what others thought.

They were free in so many ways from the restraints and criticisms of the world. Free from their own unrealistic expectations, yet at peace with taking risks and trying new experiences.

Why had Zach feared growing old? "Will you make love with me?”

Lauren turned and stared at Zach. Disbelief, humor, interest, and eagerness flickered in her eyes before she placed her hand in Zach’s. 

Saturday, September 29, 2018

#Sci/FiFantasySaturday #ElvenRoses

Author: Brandon Hill

Genre: science fiction/fantasy
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 1

BLURB: Elven Roses

            Aldrec was an elf who was mystery to all but himself. Keeping others at arm’s length, he lived each day staving off madness from his impossibly long and somewhat reclusive life.  Mericlou was an Alerian model: an obsolete brand of android from a bygone era, lost in the monotony of the daily grind and her eccentric ‘family.’  Their friendship, born of  serendipity, healed their lonely souls.  Later, love entwined their lonely hearts…and nearly rekindled a shameful war.

EXCERPT: Elven Roses

Nalsa district, across the river, Number 4 Windhill Apartments.
The elf repeated the address to himself as he pushed his way through the crowds. In human cities it was unusual for a something as petty as purse-snatching to be the subject of intense gossip amongst the marketplace goers, but elven cities like Lusea were known for their tranquility and near-nonexistent crime. The owner of the flower shop, an elf maiden who knew him, had given him the android's address from her records after his promise to deliver the flowers she had dropped, and he had magically stored them for safekeeping. Her home was not far away. Yet he hoped that he could find her first and offer his help.
He was in luck, it seemed, as he became aware of her crying above the ambient noise of the thinning crowds as he reached the marketplace edge. Her electronic voice was very distinctive, and her cries were both plaintive and miserable.
The elf pressed on through the final throngs of shoppers and followed the sound at last to a lone figure sitting on the steps of a shop just beyond the pillars of the marketplace atrium. Her face was buried in her hands.
He came to her side and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Slowly, she lifted her head.
"By the Divine…!" the elf gasped, eyes widening at the sight of her.
She was beautiful!
Though her amber-colored doe eyes were bloodshot and red, her tear-streaked face was, like all androids, devoid of any physical blemish. If it could be said to be an imperfection, there was only a tiny mole set below and to the right of her deep-bronze-red lips. A black leather choker was clasped around her neck, from which hung a gold-encrusted amethyst. Androids were a common sight, and female types, even more so, but it was as if, at the sight of this particular android, he had never truly noticed them before. For a second, he simply stared, his voice caught in his throat at her beauty that, for lack of a better word, could only be described as perfect.
The elf fumbled with his hip satchel for a handkerchief, which he offered to the android. The android hiccupped another couple of suppressed sobs as she stared curiously at him then at his gift. With only the faintest of smiles, she accepted it. The pale, near-alabaster tone of her skin made her fingers seem as delicate as a china doll's.
"I saw what happened," the elf said, finally finding his tongue. He knelt beside the android as she used the handkerchief to dab at her eyes. "Are you okay?"
The android shook her head, and a couple more tears streamed down her stained cheeks.
"No…I…I think I'm really, really far from okay," she croaked. "That little punk… My entire lifewas in that purse! My ether link, my makeup, my ID cards…"
Her last few words became garbled as she grimaced and broke again into a torrent of cries and wails. She buried her face in the handkerchief, and before long, had soaked it through with her tears.
"It's…the perfect end…to a perfect day!" She came up for air, only to cover her face again and resume her crying fit.
Alarmed, yet hesitant, the elf placed his arm around her shoulder, and to his surprise, she readily accepted him. The android leaned into his breast, and coughed out a few more ragged sobs, too exhausted to cry anymore.
"Th-thank you," she quavered, having composed herself and looking more than a little embarrassed at having emptied her sorrow into the bosom of a complete stranger. "I'm not usually like this, really. It's just that…well, today's just gone all to hell, if you know what I mean?" She followed her statement with a loud, wet sniffle.
"Oh, I can guess," the elf said, recalling, in spite of himself, his mood before seeing her chase after that purse-snatcher. He gave her a reassuring smile. "Besides, I've had something of a bad day myself."
"Have you ever had yourpurse stolen?" The android asked, as though nothing could have possibly been worse than what had happened to her.
At this, the elf stifled a potentially regrettable laugh. "No, but then again, how many men, human or otherwise, do you see with a purse?"
The android let out a slight guffaw, and smiled.
"Aha, so you canlaugh!" the elf said. "I was beginning to wonder if your sense of humor had been taken as well. But seriously, if I didhave a purse—heaven forbid—I know that it isn't exactly the best thing to wear in the city, even in Lusea. It's too easy to steal: bands snap; there's nothing to hold on to. I've seen it before."
"I guess I learned it the hard way, huh?" the android said grimly. She bent over, cradling her forehead in her hands. "Boy, was I stupid, or what?"
"Look, don't talk like that." The elf shook his head resolutely. "You're notstupid. You just made a mistake, is all. Besides, that kid was the one to blame. Hewas the one who stole your purse. Hey, that reminds me…"
He removed his hip satchel from his belt and unzipped it. "Here," he said, "you can have this."
"Oh, no!" the android said, pushing it away the moment he presented it. "I couldn't possibly-"
"No, I insist," the elf said, pushing it back her way. "Besides, it's full of stuff that I don't really need. Go ahead. Take a look inside."
She wiped the stray tears from her face and eyed him suspiciously, but the elf's reassuring smile was mysteriously disarming. She reached inside.

Friday, September 28, 2018

#Friday'sFeaturedTitle #Dragon's Among Us

Dragons Among Us
C. L. Kraemer
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 

BLURB: Dragons Among Us

In a world full of anomalies such as the platypus and self reproducing Komodo dragon, is the human race willing to accept that dragons may be real?
Sapien Draconi-human-dragon shape shifters-all over the world face this dilemma every day. The question has become life and death as their species is plagued with unexpected and unwanted shifting in the most unlikely of places.
The Ancient Ones-full-blooded dragons-can offer advice, but few seem to put forward workable solutions to the problem.
The fate of the shape shifters hangs in the balance, and an answer must be found before the Homo Sapiens find, dissect, and hunt Sapien Draconi to extinction.

EXCERPT: Dragons Among Us

Aleda crawled from her sleeping bag and, individually, stretched her muscles. She’d always enjoyed camping. It was the only time she slept well. Something about the unpolluted air, the nights sounds of nature and knowing there were no other people about produced a sleeping potion no doctor could recreate. She dressed warmly against the morning chill and meandered to the stream to get water for coffee and cooking. Not having done much the day before, her ravenous hunger puzzled her.

“Must be the good mountain air.” She made coffee, scrambled eggs, and toasted bread with a slender wire camp toaster, which she held over the fire. As she sat in her chair enjoying the taste of food and quiet of the surrounding woods, hair on the back of her neck began to stand on end and her skin tingled. She shook off the feeling and poured another cup of coffee. The sensation of eyes observing her movements overpowered her senses and her amulet began humming, the sound increasing in volume with each passing minute.

“Enough!” Aleda tossed her plastic plate to the table with a clatter, stomped to her tent and retrieved a heavy coat. “I’ll nip this foolishness in the bud, right now!”

She hesitated as she started to storm from the camp. Camera.Quickly returning to her tent, she stomped away from her personal sanctuary, Nikon in hand, stomach complaining. Half a dozen paces from the camp, after wreaking a rushing flurry of birds into flight, Aleda realized, if she was to find out what was inducing her amulet to hum and her hair to stand on end, she would need to slow her pace—think before she stumbled into trouble. She proceeded into the stand of trees serving as the backdrop for her camp. Sauntering to nearest the evergreen, she placed her hand on the bark and felt a buzzing sensation tickle her palm. Aleda stumbled backward, dumbfounded by the commotion stirring within her. Logic and reason said she shouldn’t be sensing anythingby touching the tree.

“This whole trip is turning out to be totally illogical.”

Aleda narrowed her eyes and concentrated on the skin of the tree. She began to see small creatures scurrying up and down the grooved surface of the bark, the scene recalling the Marquam Bridge merging into I-5 at rush hour. She pulled deeply of the air surrounding her and discovered she could taste ponderosa, yellow pine and western larch trees tinged by intermittent bursts of avalanche lily, trillium and huckleberry. Another deep breath captured faint blackberry and raspberry sensations. Standing very still and concentrating with an intensity she’d never utilized, Aleda began to recognize the buzz of life around her. In her ears, insect sounds whispered from every direction, her skin reverberated with the movement of air caused by birds flying and bees busy with spring activities. When the scene before her began to waver and tiny flashes of white light popped in her vision, Aleda realized she’d quit breathing. She pulled air into her lungs and crumbled to the soft pine needle and moss covered forest floor.

"All in all I was very impressed with this author’s imagination and the ability to bring the story to life for me within the pages of her book.  It held my attention and kept me wondering what was next throughout the pages."  Courtney Rene for Rogue's Angles  

Thursday, September 27, 2018

#Christel'sSunrise #HistoricalRomance

Author: Christine Young
Genre: Historical Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 4

Highland Sunrise by Christine Young
Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
Genre: Historical
Length: Full Length (174 pgs)
Heat Level: Spicy
Rated: 4 Stars
Reviewed by Dandelion

I loved the rapport between the two main characters. Although at times they both struggled to find the right words to explain their feelings for each other, somehow they managed. They both loved the other and so over time it became easier. Both were also very independent and that caused a little friction between them. However, Ryder would typically just shake his head and go with the flow. There were a huge number of sex scenes, and I think this story would have stood alone quite well without so many (there were times they did nothing to forward the plot, but seemed added just to have a sex scene), but they didn’t detract from the plot either.

There were so many other fascinating and fun characters in the story: her sister, her cousins, their husbands, her aunt, the Duchess. Reading about all the things they attempted and succeeded in doing was really fun. They were not the typical regency “tonnish” people of the days. This made this story much more fun.

And of course, although there was a lot of fighting, terror, murder and mayhem, the story has a very satisfying ending.

Life is carefree for Ryder MacLaren who loves to see what is on the other side of the sunrise. Laird of Clan MacLaren, he is wealthy, handsome and happily unencumbered...until stunning Christel McClellan enters his life. When he hears her story, he believes the child she thought dead has been sold to a wealthy buyer.

Ryder strained to see the apparition Christel pointed toward but he saw nothing. "No, but I think I hear her."
"Yes, she is crying, not weeping as usual. Do you know anything about her story?" Christel turned to him, hope shining in her soft blue eyes.
"I've heard her lover died. But that was a long time ago."
Ryder pulled her back into his embrace, not ever wanting her to leave. He would hold fast to her for as long as she would allow him. "At war... I don't recall which one. The clans seem to have always been at war with someone, especially the English."
He felt the nod of her head against his chest. "Does anyone know the legend? I would seek them out."
Her breathing was slow and she seemed relaxed. But Ryder feared for her. If she started asking questions, would this ghost come to harm her? He didn't know anything about apparitions. But he also knew he would have to give her a chance to discover the truth. "Only if you let me go with you. I would be honored. There is a woman, older than time. She wanders the castle grounds. Most see her in the late evening and early morning."
"Old as time, no older?"
A shimmering silver light hung over the castle and floated above the turrets. Ryder pointed toward the light. "Is that her?"
"She's a bit reclusive." Christel turned in Ryder's arms. "Yes, that's her."
"One might say that about her." His hands rested at the small of Christel's back. He wanted to kiss her but didn't want to frighten her again. Maybe a lazy gentle kiss would be accepted. The thought made him grin.
He traced her neck with the tip of his finger, hoping she would find his attentions acceptable then bent close to her. "I want to kiss you. Will you let me?" She shivered in his arms but turned her face up to him.
"Yes." She breathed softly. Her words gentle yet hesitant.
Her reticence bothered him. What had happened in her past? His thoughts shot to Lord Rathen and her hasty departure from London. Every part of him tightened with disgust. He would discover the truth and make the despicable rake pay for any injustice committed against Christel.
Watching her eyes for signs of fear, Ryder lowered his mouth to hers. He touched her gently, molded his lips against her, thrilled to hear the sigh of pleasure emanate from her. He ran one hand up her back, pulling her closer, reveling in the feel of her softness against his hard planes. Her breasts pushed against him. The need to feel every inch of her pulsed through him but he didn't dare.
He moved back and once again looking into her eyes. She lowered her lashes then returned his gaze.
"Don't think, little one, just feel and know that I would never hurt you. I want more but I won't rush you."
She touched his cheek with one slender fingertip. "Kiss me again."

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

#CatchingMera #ParanormalRomance

Author: Christine Young
Genre: Erotic Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 5

BLURB: Catching Mera
Meara Thorton was a feisty, world-class computer hacker—cornered by the FBI and shockingly given the chance to be their newly acquired technical analyst. Brilliant and intuitive, yet aching with the loss of everyone she has cared about, her restless heart led her to discover a love she fought and a world she didn't know could possibly exist.

Jace McKenna was an enigma, a loner, impossibly handsome, sincere and committed. The Apache shapeshifter blood running through his veins burned hotter than the blistering Sierra Madre sun. Jace knew the moment he caught Meara's scent she was his for eternity. 


"Catching Meara is a superbly written mystery that draws readers in and makes them a part of the team. The characters are vivid and provide a perfect canvas for the life of a unique team that catches some truly nasty villains. Ms. Young provides a perfect blend of paranormal, mystery and romance providing the reader an entertaining adventure."
Rating: 4 cups out of 5

Three more cops followed behind. No, they were government agents. The logo printed in white across their chest announced their profession.

Bright lights swept the room in a slow steady arc, searching for her. Finally resting on her face, she shielded her eyes. Smoke from the crucified computers filled the cubicle, making the agents choke. Sweat from fear beaded on her forehead, and her heart lurched to her throat. She closed her hands over her heart as if she could slow the furious beating.

"Hewitt, check this out. There might be more than this one. Barrister go search through the other rooms."

"Right, McKenna."

"My name is Jace McKenna," the man said as he approached cautiously, kicking debris from under foot until he stood above her. "Put your hands in the air." 

His voice held so much authority and sounded so calm. For a moment she thought he meant to reassure then she remembered she was his prisoner. Well, she would be as soon as she complied with his demands. 

Jace appeared dark, dangerous, handsome and tall, she noted at first. Very tall, which was hard to miss, since she was skinny and short. His eyes were an amber color with a hint of green. He towered over her. Beneath the deceiving bulkiness of his bulletproof vest, she observed next, his shoulders were very broad, and though his hips were lean, his thighs, tightly hugged by his jeans, were muscled and powerful.

His hair was blacker than the midnight sky, nearly indigo with its sheen, his amber eyes were cast into a rugged face that appeared naturally tanned. He was probably somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties. He seemed fierce, alive with a striking tension and a volatile energy that seemed to exude from him.

Shaking, sweat dripping down her face, Meara slowly raised her trembling arms. "D-don't shoot--me, please" She heard the pathetic whimper in her voice as she blinked the stinging sweat from her eyes where it melded with her mascara. Her heart pounded so hard against her chest she was sure it would burst through her ribs.

"Stand up, slowly." He swept the flashlight as well as the gun up and down the length of her body, which had been curled into a tight fetal position.

Rising to her feet, she leaned against the wall behind her, trying to keep her hands up and not fall flat on her face. She wiggled her butt against the wall and inched her way to a standing position. Her life flashed in front of her in a series of leaps and bounds until she saw the faces of her parents. 

"Do as he says," they whispered. "Everything will turn out fine. You'll see. We love you." Then, just as they appeared, they vanished.

Their faces faded into the smoke and flashing lights. Her eyes open wide, she gazed at her enemy--her jailor. The man who was here to arrest her. Mind games, or was it mind think that her parents used to play with her, teaching her to communicate through thoughts instead of words. She focused on his brain, sending out feelers, trying to read his thoughts and trying to tell him she was no threat.

The next moment he was beside her, grasping one of her arms, and in one swift move he had turned her, both hands were behind her back and handcuffed. Her breath stopped for a moment. The movement had been so sudden she was thrown against the wall. Her face flattened on the smooth surface. Yet she was glad for that because the impact brought her back to the reality of this moment. Her mind cleared for a brief second. For courage she inhaled a swift deep breath.

Manic Reader Review 
Rating:  4 1/2 stars out of 5
Reviewer: Alberta 

Meara is a loner, content to spend time with her computers, without the bother of having too many people around her. When she turns from hacker to government computer specialist, she meets Jace, who knows she is his mate, but all he has to do is tell her he is a panther shape shifter and that she is destined to be his.

There is a lot of dodging bad guys, dodging another shape shifter, and trying to keep secrets from each other. In the end, Catching Meara is pretty entertaining, and I liked both characters, despite Meara’s dysfunctional personality.

Tuesday, September 25, 2018

#TellTaleTuesday #FrozenDeath #Mystery

Frozen Death
G. L. Didaleusky
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 1

BLURB: Frozen Death

Ancient Indian lore holds the answer to these mysterious medical aberrations. A newly constructed Florida male prison sits on ancient hallowed grounds called Forbidden Hill. Soon after the prison opens, two male inmates freeze to death without exposure to frigid temperatures. John Randall, a widowed prison doctor, meets Lena Windmaker, a single, off-duty sheriff detective at a local library. Their initial plutonic relationship soon kindles into a more amorous one. They hide a personal secret that could bring them together or destroy them. They uncover articles in local, post-Civil war newspapers describing residence succumbing to Frozen Death. John and Lena race to discover a cause before it chooses other victims.

EXCERPT: Frozen Death

At 3:30 A.M., the telephone rang. On the fourth ring, John picked up the receiver, his mind still foggy from sleep. "This better be an emergency."

"Is this…Dr. Randall?" 

John realized the caller had a male voice, not the feminine voice of Nurse Simpson. “Yes, I'm Dr. Randall. I'm sorry for being so abrupt when I first answered the phone. I thought it was the infirmary nurse calling again."

"I've answered the phone the same way on several occasions at this time of the morning," said the male caller. "My name is Steve Patterson. I'm the ER physician at Ocala General Hospital."

"Is it about the inmate I sent to you a few hours ago? Was it a drug overdose?"


"A brain tumor?"

"No. His CT brain scan was normal, along with a normal drug screen," said Patterson. "I'm sorry to tell you but the inmate died."

John nearly dropped the phone. "What did he die from?"

"He froze to death. I've never seen anything like this in my thirty years as an ER doctor. After running all the tests on him, he started to shake. His temperature rapidly dropped followed by cardiac arrest. I tried everything to save his life, but nothing worked."

"I’m sure you did everything you could. Hopefully an autopsy will give us an answer to his death." John decided not to tell him about Inmate Armstrong’s similar death yesterday morning. "Thanks for calling me, Dr. Patterson."     

"I'm just sorry I didn't have good news to tell you." He hung up the phone. 

John couldn't go back to sleep. He got up and put on a pot of coffee. After he had showered, shaved, and dressed, he went back to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. 

As he sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee, the telephone rang. The ominous ring almost caused him to lose his grip on the coffee cup. He glanced up at the wall clock: 5:15 A.M. John sprang from his chair and rushed toward the ringing phone on the wall. 

He picked up the phone. "Dr. Randall."

"It's Nurse Simpson from the infirmary." She took a deep breath. "I have an inmate…"

Stevi B. for Manic Readerssays:

"Frozen Death is a very intriguing mystery and it gets even more interesting as the answer appears to be found in Ancient Indian lore. If you love Indian lore, medically impossible puzzles, and mysteries that look impossible, you will like Frozen Death." 

Sunday, September 23, 2018

#RomanceSunday #TheHavershamLegacy #HistoricalRomance

The Haversham Legacy by Nickie Fleming

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 1

Buy at Amazon

BLURB: The Haversham Legacy

The sudden marriage of the Marquis of Haversham ignites a series of events. The marquis is murdered, his wife and daughter suffer an accident. The marchioness is dead, but where is baby Justine?
Young Nigel Denby is the only one who can name the culprit of these murders. However, he has to flee the country on the accusation of high treason. He swears revenge on the man who arranged this.
When he meets an highwayman and his daughter, a plan is formed and at last he returns to England, to trick the murderer into confession.
Little does he know that his mysterious companions have secrets of their own…

EXCERPT: The Haversham Legacy


October, 1668

A woman approached the group of courtiers around the King. She looked very young and very innocent compared to most of the other women present. Her delicate pink gown made her stand out even more.

Charles the Second smiled pleasantly when he saw her and beckoned, "Ah, there you are, my dear! James, may I present Lady Claire De Vere, eldest daughter of the Earl of St. Albans."

The man he addressed made a courtly bow.

"Lady Claire, this is one of my best friends, the Marquis of Haversham."

A bit further away, a young man watched the scene. His name was George Templeton and he was the cousin of the marquis. He was not dancing, as one would expect of such a young and dashing young lad. With his fair hair, blue eyes, and his sportsman’s body, he was the dream of every girl and her mother--even more so because he was the sole heir of the Marquis of Haversham. The marquis was already thirty-eight years old and had never married.

James faced the girl--and it was plain to George how this pleased the older man. Of course the lady was pretty, with her black hair, blue eyes, and cherry-like mouth. She could be his daughter though, and most certainly she was too innocent for his cousin’s taste. Although James had never looked for a wife, he did not object to taking the occasional damsel to his bed. He once told his cousin that he preferred experienced women who knew how to please a man and did not make demands.

Yet right now he seemed to be drowning in the eyes of this girl who could only have sixteen or seventeen years of age. She said something and he laughed at it. Then he offered her his arm and they moved to the dancing floor.

George began to feel a bit unsure at that exact moment. It was as if the center of his universe suddenly shifted out of focus. He had built his life on the certainty of becoming the next Marquis. He could not--would not--allow something to happen to his dreams of becoming a rich and wealthy man.

The Haversham Legacyis a beautiful blend of the lavish and the picaresque, combining courtly life with swashbuckling adventure.
Mindy McKay for Rogue's Angels

Saturday, September 22, 2018

#Sci/FiFantasySaturday #DragonsOfTHeIce #Fantasy

Title: Dragons of the Ice
Author: C. L. Kraemer
ISBN: 978-1-62420-333-6

Genre: Fantasy
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level:  1


Dragonlings are a challenge at the best of times. When a plot is discovered to extinguish the dragon shifters of the world, parents to be Petra and Dagmar, Olga and Lee fear for the future.


Unexpected dragon shiftings have increased since the conference in China. More deaths being covered up inexplicably sends Lee Svensson to Japan to investigate from the Swedish Embassy. Why is it World Watch, Inc., a marketing company, is always on site when a shifter dies? Lee is charged to find out. When the husband of his wife’s best friend discovers an account he is managing, World Watch, Inc., is manipulating oil companies by buying up all available stocks, the two realize their paths are the same. Now that their wives have announced the impending births of dragonlings, it is imperative the men solve this riddle. An American dragoness shifter and former full blood warrior dragon will prove courage comes in all sizes.


Dragons among us, Book III
C. L. Kraemer

Reviewed by Jeffrey Ross

5 Stars of 5

An intriguing shape shifter novel! 5 Stars!

Dragons on Ice is epic in scope-- and its global vision and cinematic presentation will remind readers of a James Bond film. The author works on numerous  current modern themes, including the influence of big oil, political manipulation, and the intricacies of marital relationships. Readers will learn a great deal about the classes of shapeshifter dragons which robustly populate the earth, including their history, mating rituals, and birthing practices. Yes, there are many wing-flapping flying scenes and numerous spouts of flame images. The bad guy is a most-villainous creature who pits himself against the decent shape shifters just trying to get along with the "two-leggeds." A fun read combining fantasy and political intrigue!

EXCERPT: Dragons of the Ice


The flight to Tokyo was tedious and Lee Svensson was not a good traveler. Airplanes exacerbated his claustrophobia, and the air turbulence upset his stomach. He disembarked with the passengers heading into the terminal. It never ceased to amaze him how polite Japanese travelers were. The walkways, while crowded, found the citizens accommodating to one another and foreigners. Lee located his luggage at the baggage retrieval. A close by kiosk offered instructions for the second leg of his journey. He purchased a rail ticket to Sapporo and flagged a vacant taxi willing to take him to the station. After settling in his window seat, Lee opted to close his eyes and allow the gentle movement of the bullet train lull him to sleep. There were two changes to make before he reached his destination far to the north of Tokyo in the Hokkaido prefecture.
This was his first trip away from Olga since they'd wed before the spring conference. If there hadn't been so much evidence against the target, he would've passed off this assignment to another. The nature of the investigation, however, required his presence at the offices in Sapporo.
"Sir? Excuse me, sir. We're at your stop."
The uniformed train attendant woke him, opting to gently rouse the stranger.
"Domo arigato."
She smiled, a shy affair showing a small dimple in her right cheek.
"You're welcome, sir."
Lee rose from the seat and stretched his muscles. He was facing one more transfer then eight hours of sleep. His meeting wasn't for two more days, but he felt the need to be rested. He'd be glad when he could stop moving and call Olga. She'd been acting very odd before he left yesterday. Was it just yesterday? He shook his head realizing his sense of timing had flown out the window after several time zone changes.
The second transfer was quickly accomplished as Lee settled his briefcase next to him. Safely ensconced in his seat on the final leg of his journey, his eyelids began to drift toward his cheeks.
The ring of his cell phone startled him awake.
"Hello? Olga! Good heavens, what time is it there?"
He listened to the voice of his lifemate, feeling tightness in his shoulders disappear. His lips slid into a smile and he stretched his legs before him.
"I know, my love, but just put up with her while I'm gone. She is, after all, the one who promoted you to the council and encouraged them to use your work."
The countryside was giving way to homes. Lee straightened and started checking around his seat for anything he may have left.
"What? Olga? What did you just say?"
The sound must've been distorted by such a long distance.
"Olga? Let me call you back. We're at the final station, and I need to get to my hotel room. I'll be able to hear you better from a landline. Okay?"
He sensed she wasn't thrilled but clicked off his phone knowing she would wait for his call. Lee made his way to the hotel and his room.
Showering away two days of travel, he reveled in the hot water sluicing down his body chasing away the aches and pains of sitting for so long. Over-sized, terrycloth towels specifically set out for him as per his reservation request, warmed and relaxed the remaining weariness from his bones. The urgency to sleep was exerting power over his need to speak to his wife. He shook off the need to sleep. He'd better call Olga or she'd worry unnecessarily.
Once he'd gone through the hotel's phone exchange, he waited on the bed as the phone rang at the other end.
Finally."Hi, sweetheart. I couldn't quite hear everything you were saying while I was on the train. Now, what did you want me to know?"
He sat listening to his wife relay the news to him. This changes everything.
"I think we best talk seriously about this when I get home. I'll be here for at least a week following up on a… situation. The outcome here will determine my next assignment. I miss you, Olga."
"I miss you, too, Lee. Be safe. If this has anything to do with the events at the spring meeting, I want you to promise me you'll be especially vigilante."
"I promise, love. I'll call you every day."
Stunned, he crawled beneath the covers depositing the damp towel on the chair next to the bed. Before he thought to turn out the light, his eyes betrayed him and closed.
Lee Svensson was sound asleep, the worries of the coming day temporarily forgotten.


Dragons among us, Book III
C. L. Kraemer
4 Stars of 5
Reviewed by G. Lloyd Helm

I found myself in a world not unlike my own, except that the actors were dragons with the magical power to appear to be people and to function in human society with plain humans none the wiser.  The dragons all seem to have the same problems humans have; the everyday jobs and interactions that we all must endure, the everyday paperwork problems, the decisions about having and caring for children, but these dragons live on a more violent plain where a self absorbed dragon thinks he should be the most powerful dragon in the world. He thinks he should do away with all the "lesser" changeling dragons and the minor dragons and let only the pure blood dragons like himself live. The racism and dictatorial desire runs rampant within  dragon kind.
The story has echoes of Harry Potter and the battle to rule the world of magic, but it also has feelings of a James Bond, or George Smiley novel. I rather liked it and it did hold my interest enough that I read most every word rather than skimming through it.
I only gave it a four because there were Cherokee Indians living in Tee Pees on the Rose Bud range and that isn't right. Cherokee's (My People) lived in long houses before Andrew Jackson drove them onto the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma, where many of them including Will Rogers, lived and continue to live. They never lived in Tee Pees. It's a small thing, but that kind of error steals credibility from an otherwise pretty diverting tale.