Thursday, December 31, 2020

#Sweetsurender #ParanormalRomance


Title: Sweet Surrender

Author: Christine Young

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Book Heat Level: 5


Buy at: Amazon





Kimi McKenna finds herself thrust somewhere into the future where dark elements threaten to destroy the earth unless Kimi can work together with the white witch to stop the destruction.


BLURB: Sweet Surrender


Ripped from her family at the top of Infinity Cliff, Kimi McKenna finds herself thrust somewhere into the future. Dark elements threaten to destroy the earth unless Kimi can work together with the white witch to stop the destruction. Confused by her mate's role in the conspiracy, she refuses to acknowledge the connection. But amidst raging fire and attacks on the people she is coming to hold dear, she allows Maska O'keefe into her heart.

Maska O'keefe has loved the beautiful shapeshifter for years. Unable to save her life years ago, he vows to watch over her as he is given a second chance to convince her that even though he is a witch and not a shifter, they are indeed soul mates. Kimi's divided loyalties between her family and the cause she is now a part of will determine their relationship. Only the part she plays as the messiah can bring this to a conclusion in the final battle.




EXCERPT: Sweet Surrender


She caressed his cheek again, nodding her answer. I want to make love to you, Maska O’keefe. I don’t want you to make any excuses, maybe not tonight but soon. I am not too weak to know my mind.

“I think it’s time we left the lovers alone. They have no use for us, and Kimi is no longer in danger. She does have her mate.” Lyn cleared her throat, backing from the room and tugging on Deacon’s arm. Guy and Baylor followed suit.

“We will continue tomorrow,” Sarah said, bowing before returning to her quarters.

Mak scooped Kimi into his arms, kissing her forehead, “Depends on what Kimi has to say. I don’t want to put her life in jeopardy because she does too much too soon. No one is going to change my mind, not even the witch.” Wanting nothing more than the safety of his woman, he cradled her against his chest. God, she was light as a feather. Had she lost weight since they arrived? He’d make sure she ate right. “I love you,” he whispered for her ears only.

Carrying her up the stairs and through his house, he felt a deep compassion for Kimi. She’d given up so much for him, and still his people put her in grave danger. A battle might not be raged where she was forced to physically fight, but he had the feeling this mental combat she was engaged in was far more dangerous. He cursed Melva for her part in all of this. Then he cursed himself for his role.

Unexpectedly, he felt Kimi wind her fingers through his hair. She snuggled in closer. The warmth of her body close to him did little to ease his conscious. Perhaps he didn’t want the guilt to vanish.

“Umm...” she murmured, “feeling better. Just want to be with you tonight.” And always.

My thoughts too. What changed your mind?

Mak kissed her forehead. “Feeling better? I heard what you told me. Are you too tired for words?” He kicked the door to her room open and stepped inside, eyeing the bed with frustration.

“Yes, so much better. Why did you bring me to my room? Oh hell, it doesn’t matter where we are.” She pulled his head down and kissed him on the mouth. Too many words evaporated my energy, easier to speak without talking.

Shocked, Mak reveled in the feeling for a second before returning the kiss. “You have to rest, you know. I’m not going to be responsible for...” He told her even though his body rebelled, and he wasn’t too sure what he was talking about. It had been so long since any intimacy at all had been shared between them.

“What if I don’t want to rest? What if I want you to make love to me?” She slanted him a sexy as hell grin that made him want to put her on the bed and strip naked. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the image in his head of Kimi naked in his arms.

Yet he knew better than to rush the agenda of sex between them. No matter how much he wanted to have that closeness with his mate. “We can talk in the morning. After you’ve had a good night’s sleep. More than anything I want to make love to you, but the time isn’t right.”

“I want you,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down his arms then across his chest. She moved closer and kissed the column of his neck, and he knew she tried to seduce him.

He groaned, comprehending the fact that if she kept this up he couldn’t possibly be responsible for his actions. Of course he could. He inhaled a long deep breath and shuttered his feelings, searching for common sense.





Paranormal, romance, shapeshifter, time-travel




Wednesday, December 30, 2020

#SweetSexySadie #ParanormalRomance


Title: Sweet Sexy Sadie

Author: Christine Young



Genre: Erotic Romance

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 5


Buy Amazon


BLURB: Sweet Sexy Sadie


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. 






Tuesday, December 29, 2020

#TellTaleTuesday #DoorToHeaven


Title: Door to Heaven

Author: Christine Young



Genre: Historical Romance

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 4


Buy at:  AMAZON




Courageous and impetuous, Jessica Lawerence finds danger in her quest to save women from white slavery.


BLURB: Door to Heaven


Jessica Lawrence is the stepdaughter of a woman born in the twentieth century transported back in time to the year 1868. An acclaimed suffragette, she raises Jessica to believe in the equality of women. Jess Law believes everything she was taught, and when the time is right she becomes a private investigator. Courageous and impetuous, Jess finds danger in her quest to save all women from white slavery. Her passionate mission results in a wedding to Roc Newman, a man she knows can steal her heart...


Roc can't trust the sapphire-eyed spitfire who invades his home in search of secret papers and knocks him flat with her karate moves. Jessica's refusal to obey his wishes serves to inflame the war between them. Still, he cannot control the intense desire his reluctant bride inspires, or make her surrender her independence, until he has conquered the headstrong beauty on the battlefield of love...


EXCERPT: Door To Heaven


Salem, Oregon 1886


            No one would have ever guessed the little spitfire could create so much havoc in Roc Newman's life. He would never forget that first bizarre meeting with the pernicious but lovely Jessica Lawrence. That night set the tone for their tumultuous and stormy ride through life.

            She had shown her true colors; the wildfire that possessed her soul, the passionate spirit, and the will to triumph even when the battle seemed lost.

            When the moon appeared as a silver slipper in the sky...

            He waited for her, primed yet not prepared, forewarned through the political grapevine that Jessica Lawrence stalked him.

            Jessica Lawrence was a five foot four inch pest. In the midst of it all, no matter how precarious the situation, she seemed to remain, completely, almost unerringly, on his trail--until now. At the window, Roc scrutinized the black form below, fighting the overwhelming urge to give her a shock she would remember forever.

            She seemed hell bent on suicide. Consequently, he followed the young lady one day, dodging her path, keeping in the shadows. He had seen her enter an office mysteriously from a side door and discovered it housed a private investigator. The sign, etched in his mind, Jess Law, PI, alias Jessica Lawrence. It hadn't fooled him for a second, just gave him pause, and the fury seizing him rocked his usually placid facade.

            He gambled on her naivetĂ©. Perhaps because he had thought her harmless, a mere girl in a man's world, inadequate. Perhaps it had even been the notion she would eventually become distracted and quit. Whatever the reason, he had made a Herculean mistake, and now he pondered her next move. Dressed to blend with the night, she was out there, an apparition of darkness, wrapped in ghostly shadows.

            He moved through the house, turning off lights, banking the fires, before settling in a shadowed corner of his study where he could watch Jess. Purposely, he waited until well after midnight to lower the lights. Roc was tense, ready for the intrusion of his privacy. He was peering through the lace curtains, wondering at the girl whose appearance would have shocked most men. A long rope looped over her shoulder, the lone woman strode surefooted across the gardens.

            The sky was clear, except for a ribbon of low clouds and a sliver of moon. The house, a bastion against the silent assault about to come. A soft wind blew through the open window from the south; it cleared his head as he watched the approach.

            Jess Law shrugged the rope from her shoulder. Silhouetted against the sky, he watched the cord snake upward, grappling hook deftly clenching the chimney. He stood in awe of the mastery. Jess Law pulled on the rope, tightened it, and with a proficiency contradicting her sex, ascended. The lady moved cautiously, and when she reached her goal, she smiled. Her even white teeth glowed against the blackness of her face.

            With lithe movements, she swiftly opened the attic window. One jean-clad leg moved through the opening. She balanced precariously, for a moment, as if she were a bird ready to fly. Then her foot rested on the hard wood. The rest of her followed quickly, dropping to the floor; silent, ready to spring.

            He felt the tension, knew she listened for the sound of footsteps. She was inside. He watched the window, imagining each moment, each breath, sensing the emotions that must surely riffle her body. Roc listened for the soft whisper of her steps as she descended and thought he could almost hear the wild racing of her heart. Only a moment passed before the sounds became audible. Once on the first floor, she made her way through the house. Her fingers rested on the tumbler of his safe and turned. He heard the click, saw the handle as she pushed down. The door swung open.

            Then, without warning, he gripped her mouth. She wrenched away, turning quickly, groping for the documents, even while she tried to avoid him. Her actions, quick and agile, proved adept, throwing him off balance, but he would not relent and managed to grip her arm. No matter how swiftly she countered his moves, he still held mastery. He turned her, prepared to hog tie her if necessary. She allowed him, relaxed then surprised him, maneuvering expertly.

            Jess swiftly shoved her elbow into his chest, and he gasped for air. With a skill he didn't suspect she possessed, Jess Law threw him to the floor, and Roc bellowed, landing at her feet. The force of her action amazed him. For a second time, the breath rushed from his lungs, and Roc found himself on the cold floor. Papers, pens, and books clogged the air and littered the Persian rug then a sudden crash reverberated in the once cozy room. His shirt dampened as cold seeped through to his skin. She hadn't just thrown him upon the floor in his private sanctuary. No. She had humiliated him, threatened life and limb, and sent a pitcher of ice water on top of him. If he still held a breath of air in his body, he would have retaliated, a throw for a throw.

            He inhaled swiftly, contemplating revenge, thoroughly irritated. He'd held his own in every fight, every barroom brawl he'd ever participated, and now, in the middle of his study, he had been deflated by a plague upon the female persuasion.

            Studying the ceiling from this new vantage point, heaving, feeling the stab of mortification against his gender, he looked into the leering countenance of what was rapidly becoming the bane of his existence. Then she spoke, surprising him, since he had expected her to run. Her voice, soft and feminine, one that pinned him to the floor with its arrogance. "To the victor belongs the spoils. Would you like a repeat performance?"




Monday, December 28, 2020

#MysteryMonday #DragonsAmongUs


Dragons Among Us

C. L. Kraemer

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 


Buy at Amazon


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  



Sunday, December 27, 2020

#RomanceSunday #GottaHaveFayth


Title: Gotta Have Fayth

Twelve Dancing Princesses Book Six

Author: Christine Young

Genre: Historical Romance

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 4


Buy at: Amazon

Read First Chapter





Fayth Graham unexpectedly meets a man with sparkling gray eyes and an infectious grin, Jarret Kingsley, who gets more than he bargained in the beautiful debutant.


BLURB: Gotta Have Fayth


A regal beauty with raven hair and piercing blue eyes, Fayth Graham is unwilling to parade herself in front of the wealthy Lords of England during the season. Seeking a means to dissuade any man wishing to wed her, she pursues a way to ruin herself for marriage. When she unexpectedly meets a man with sparkling gray eyes and an infectious grin, she decides this is the man who will keep her from agreeing to obey.


He returned from six months at sea, looking for a few nights of pleasure with a willing lass, but Jarret Kinsley got more than he bargained for when he met a beautiful debutant who responded to his kisses with a wild innocence that touched his heart. Yet the obstacles looming between them might rip them apart. Both had vowed never to marry, so when consequences of their dalliances got in the way, Jarret would have to choose between the life he's always desired and the woman he loves more than life.


EXCERPT: Gotta Have Fayth


            “You’re frightening me. I don’t understand anything you’ve been telling me right now.” For a moment, Fayth closed her eyes, realizing she’d pushed him too far. She didn’t know how to remedy this. “I apologize if I’ve done something to change you.”

            “I stole your innocence instead of keeping you safe.” His voice sounded bitter to her. “I wanted you for myself, only myself, without acting on what was in your best interest.’’

            She focused on Jarret, blinked and smiled slightly. “If you remember, I asked you to ruin me,” she murmured, hoping the truth would help. “I wanted you the instant I saw you.”

            “You had no idea what would happen in the aftermath of the tempest we created. I did. The pain I feel at the thought of what I’ve put you through is an agony I’ve never felt before. You trusted me without reservation, yet I’ve brought you nothing but challenges you never asked for and compromised you so thoroughly there is no way to rectify the situation.”

            “You’ve misconstrued everything about me,” she murmured, wishing he would give her credit for some intelligence and understand she had no misgivings. “I wanted everything we did with all my heart. You should have no regrets unless you regret me.”

            “I’m a bloody fool.”

            “Then I’m a blithering idiot,” she told him, unwilling to make this about him. “I’m a willing and eager partner in everything we’ve done. Perhaps you are a bloody fool if you still think this is all about you.”

            “I could’ve stopped us before we were buried in lies. Nothing will happen to me and I knew it. The town will ostracize you, and they will applaud me and my manly prowess.”

            Fayth smiled and touched Jarret’s hard jawline. “I won’t let you dictate what I do and you’ve always known that fact. You’ve gone far beyond what we discussed in the beginning. I’ve no expectation of marriage, nor do I want any part of the institution that involves weddings and a commitment to obey.”

            Jarret’s mouth flattened. “I’m going to leave and let you have what you’ve made damn clear to me, your independence.”

            “I don’t want you to go, you hard-headed man. I want you to make love to me and hold me in your arms. I don’t want that to end.”

            “I can’t do that without the commitment you will never make. There is no other choice for me. This has become a living hell.”

            “I can still be your mistress.” She’d wanted that from the beginning. “I’ll wait for you and I won’t betray you in anyway. Not like your father betrayed your mother.”





Their attention once again was directed to the entrance. A young woman stepped through the door. Jarret’s mind centered on her face; she was so beautiful he couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping. She could have been the largest woman he’d ever seen, but her face seemed angelic. Gorgeous. Stunning. Yet she was petite with coal black hair, intricately coiffed with a few tendrils framing her cheekbones. She wore a travelling dress that had seen better days, but it didn’t distract from her slim delicate figure.

He swallowed hard and his breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure he could speak. “I want her. Gotta have her. Tonight.” Maybe my fortune is changing for the best.

“What did you just say?” Logan turned to stare at Jarret.

“My wishes for this evening have just been answered. This is the woman I’ve been waiting for. The next lady who will find my bed and enjoy all the pleasure she deserves.” Jarret rose, striding to the enchanting vision.

He reached her, feeling for the first time he could remember, tongue-tied. The air around her was filled with the scent of lemons. “Can I help you?” He touched her elbow, gently guiding her to the corner of the room where he’d been sitting. He couldn’t resist her aqua colored eyes or the tilt of her chin. When she moistened her lips, all he could think was that he had to taste them, breathe in their essence.

She stared at him, appearing a bit bewildered. “I...”

“I...” One eyebrow rose and the smile inside him grew realizing this woman, whoever she was, would be his next affair. All that remained was convincing her. He didn’t think that would be too difficult.

“I need directions.” She said, her voice assuming a note of command, yet at the same time breathless.

“You entered a tavern for directions?” he queried skeptically. “Then direction you will have.” His heart pounded in his chest, a sudden heat sweeping through his body. More than willing to give instructions to the captain’s cabin of his ship.

She let him lead her across the floor and pulled out a chair for her. “This is...” he began, only to shift his attention from his friends to this gorgeous lady.

“Fayth,” she said.

"And I'm Jarret Kingsley."

An easy peace swept through him. Gotta have Fayth. He touched the top of her hand with his. Its softness sent a warm shimmer spiraling straight to his heart.

“Fayth, a beautiful name,” Logan said, grinning at Jarret as if he knew his intentions.

Jarret slanted him the best hands offlook he could manage. Logan appeared to receive the message, and Drake downed his second pint, signaling for another.

“Kingsley, if I haven’t missed the clues, I believe your wishes for tonight have been granted.” Drake told him. Guess you won’t be going with Logan and myself.”

Now I just have to convince my lady. “Don’t the two of you have somewhere to go?” Jarret asked, nodding his head in the direction of the door.

Fayth slipped her hand from beneath his and placed it on Jarret’s arm. “I came in here for help. Can you help me?”

“Of course, directions where?” Jarret asked, knowing where he wanted her but still trying to figure out the details.

“To my new lodgings. I’ve been travelling for days and I’m confused. I’ve never been in London and I thought...”

“No fears. I’ll make sure you get where you want to go.” Jarret had every intention of taking her wherever she pleased but only after he knew her better, intimately.

The pint of ale Jarret had ordered for her appeared. She licked her lips and stared at the glass. “I don’t know if I should drink that.”

“Only if you want to. I can get you water or wine. The water is horrible, but the wine might be better if it comes from Logan’s vineyard in Bordeaux.” Jarret ignored the conversation between his two best friends. Without listening, he knew what it was that they talked and laughed about and he didn’t care, knowing he was smitten he wasn’t about to deny the emotion.

“I’ll try this.” She sipped the cold brew, a strange expression appearing on her delicate features.

“What do you think?”

“Good.” She licked her lips, and he wanted to follow the path of her tongue with his fingertip.





Historical, Romance, Regency, England






Saturday, December 26, 2020

#Sci/fiFanatasySaturday Feathers


Title: Feathers

Author: Courtney Rene

Genre: YA/Fantasy


Buy at: AmazonBarnes and Noble

Read first chapter




What happened to the angels that fell from heaven?  Do they still live among us?  Gracie is about to find out, whether she wants to or not.  


BLURB: Feathers


Feathers, brings you into the world of fallen angels. Orphaned since birth, sixteen-year-old, Grace finds her teenage world crumbling around her. Her home is burned to the ground. Her foster siblings and housemother are killed. Her life falls apart and there is nothing she can do to stop it. Her dreams have become dimensions where she can be hunted and hurt. Words like fallen angels, halflings, and nephilim are tossed around without explanation. When Grace sprouts a pair of wings, things go from bad to worse, as the fallen angels believe she may be the key to them returning to the side of God, but only upon her eradication.



EXCERPT: Feathers


We made it to the wireless store and quickly found the cells we were looking for. After being talked into a basic phone with full keyboard and a card for one hundred minutes, we were out the door in less than half an hour, cell phone set up and ready to rock. I was a bit lighter in the purse, but seventy-five dollars for the lot sounded pretty good.

“I wonder how long a hundred minutes will last?” I said.

Tory smiled at me and said, “Well, you’ll find out soon enough. Hey, what time is your curfew?”

“Eleven.” I looked at my watch. It wasn’t even ten yet.

“Want to get something to eat before we head back?” Tory asked as she pointed across the street at a pizza place.

“Sure,” I said. Before we could cross the street though, I felt it. He or it, whatever it was, had returned. I felt their stare. The hard feel of it firm against my skin. Goosebumps lifted along my arms. I looked over to see if Tory noticed it. She didn’t seem to, so I pretended I didn’t either. I didn’t even try to locate it that time. I ignored it. Completely. If they wanted to spend their Friday night staring at me, fine. Let them waste their time.

“You should come over tomorrow. We can go through my clothes. See if we can find you anything to add to your…wardrobe.”

“Hey,” I said and gave her a friendly shove. “My wardrobe isn’t that bad.”

“Yes. It is.”

Yeah, it was. “I wish I could, but I work most of the day tomorrow. I could on Sunday? After church.”

“You go to church?”

I laughed. “Mrs. Brown’s rules. Church every Sunday, no excuse, unless you’re dying or dead.”

“Okay, how about…Jesus! Gracie, look out!” Tory screeched.

I turned to see what had made her eyes widen to the size of saucers and grab my arm in a grip as tight as a cinch. Two blinding lights were barreling down on us. A car, a big one, was headed fast, right to where we stood, in the center of the crosswalk.

A heavy weight hit me from behind with a hard-smacking thud. The impact pushed the air from my lungs in a woosh. I flew through the air to land in a sliding grinding halt on the sidewalk in front of the overcrowded pizza place. Every eye right on me as I lay in a heap on the ground

“Ow,” I said, trying to hold back tears of pain as I got slowly to my feet. Blood ran down my arm where it had rasped against the concrete. My knees stung. I most likely skinned them as well. My shoulder ached. I had a feeling it took the brunt of my weight on the walkway when I landed.

I saw Tory in the same condition next to me. “Tory? You all right?”

“Yeah. What happened?” she asked as she tried to smooth her hair back into a semblance of order.

Before I could answer her though, I was roughly grabbed around the upper arms by a huge dude. He lifted me up to dangle with my feet off the ground and shook me like a rag doll.

“You stupid…girl!” he shouted right in my face. His dark blue eyes sparked in anger.

“Hey!” Tory yelled and shoved him from behind. “Get off!”

He whipped around to stare down at Tory. His long straight blonde hair flew around his shoulders like a cape. “Don’t,” was all he said.

Tory’s face turned white and she took several quick steps back. With a shaky voice she said, “Gracie?”

My feet finally back on the ground, the guy shoved a finger almost in my face and said with such quiet anger that I felt the blood wash out of my face as well, “Get home where you belong. Now.”

I looked at Tory and shrugged at her. Who the hell was he? I was shaking in my sandals, but something made my back straighten and my pride set in. I slowly but firmly shook my head at him and said, “No.”

I watched as disbelief and maybe a hint of rage crossed him face. I stepped quickly around him and grabbed Tory by the hand and made to go inside the restaurant.

“Grace Ann,” he growled. “Don’t push me anymore tonight. Go home, where you are safe.”

How did he know my name? I glanced at him once more. He was tall, well over six feet. He was stocky with muscles and bulk, but not quite huge and overwhelming. It was his face that drew me in though. It was beautiful. Even as angry as he was, he was lovely. Big dark eyes surrounded by long full eyelashes snapped at me with anger. His eyes, they pulled at me. Spoke to me. With surprising effort, I pulled my gaze away from those eyes and stepped inside the pizza place. The dark shadowed interior wrapped around me like a blanket and hid me within its depths.

“Is he gone?” Tory asked.

I tried not to, but I couldn’t help but glance outside where he’d stood, to see if he was still there. “I don’t know. I don’t see him.”

“Who was that?” she asked as she craned her head around me to do her own looking.

“I have no idea.”





Angles. Nephilim, Fantasy, Young Adult, Religion









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Friday, December 25, 2020

#Friday'sFeaturedTitle #ChallengingTheLegacy


Challenging the Legacy

Genie Gabriel


Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 1


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BLURB: Challenging the Legacy


Super-mom Tallie O'Shea took on eight adopted children and built a legacy of compassionate justice with her policeman husband. When he is gunned down, she doesn't think it's an accident. Then a former lover shows up and the lies from her past start unraveling. As dangers explode around her, can Tallie set things right before everything she loves is destroyed?


EXCERPT: Challenging the Legacy


The pressure of Pierce's fingers on hers surprised Tallie. She knew speculation about the two of them had been raging through town since Pierce showed up the night Halo exploded. Fitting, it seemed, since his arrival and the news he was Marly's biological father had rocked the foundation of her world. 


Events continued to unfold at a rapid pace, including the whirlwind courtship and marriage of her oldest son, Collin, and local cafĂ© owner, Beth Boulanger. Tallie already loved Beth like a daughter, though she had questioned Collin about the haste of their wedding. 


However, Beth glowed with innocent love as she walked down the aisle toward Collin. And Tallie had never seen her oldest son as happy as when he took Beth's hand and tucked it under his arm, then turned to face his brother, Patrick, who was performing the ceremony. 


"Dearly beloved..."


What a difference the packed church was to the intimate setting when Tallie had married Bernie. Just the minister, his wife, and Bernie's uncle, along with Collin and Patrick, who were still wary little boys not believing they might actually have a loving home of their own. 


Collin is so handsome. Just like Bernie was.


Tallie dabbed at her tears with a tissue. Bernie had worn a navy blue suit and starched white shirt. Tallie wore the new dress he insisted on buying for her and carried a bouquet of flowers--real ones--from the florist fifty miles away. The two boys were self-consciously silent in their borrowed suits and slicked-down hair. 


 "This will be a real marriage." Bernie had told her when he proposed a union so the boys would have both an adoptive father and mother. "You decide when you're ready to be physically intimate. But I'll always be faithful to you."


Tallie touched the wedding ring still circling the third finger of her left hand. A ring that had belonged to Bernie's grandmother. 


When they married, Bernie spoke his vows clearly and looked directly at her. In all their years of marriage, Tallie knew without a doubt Bernie had indeed been true to her. He never gave her reason to think anything else. 


You would be so proud of your children, Bernie.


As she dabbed at her tears again, Pierce took Tallie's hand and smiled at her. What would her life have been if she had married Pierce? She would have missed out on all her children, as well as the courage that came with being part of Bernie's legacy. She might have become as bitter as Portia Stratford.


She had loved Pierce with a deep physical passion--in a different way than she loved Bernie. She and Bernie were partners, with a love that grew from shared respect and purpose. No matter the past and whatever the future might hold, Tallie was grateful she had her marriage with Bernie and the blessings of all her children. 


Only time would tell if her relationship with Pierce would become more than being parents to Marly. Today, Tallie simply cherished this beautiful time of her oldest son marrying the woman he now gazed at with total devotion and love.