ROMANCE SUNDAY: A BEAUTY IN BUCKSKINS ~ A DEVIL IN DISGUISE

My Angel by Christine Young

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A BEAUTY IN BUCKSKINS

When her father decided to send her to a finishing school back East, Angela Chamberlain refused to be confined to stuffy drawing rooms. Instead, the daring spitfire who could shoot like a man and ride like the wind longed for a life of adventure and romance—and she knew exactly who could give it to her. Devil Blackmoor was a hired gun with a dangerous reputation. But Angela was willing to go to the ends of the earth to capture the handsome devil's heart.

A DEVIL IN DISGUISE

He'd come to America looking for excitement, but Devil Blackmoor got more than he bargained for when he encountered a beautiful rebel who answered his kisses with a wild innocence that touched his very soul. Yet standing between them were more obstacles than either ever dreamed. For Devil had strapped on a gun for the wrong man. And that made Angela his enemy. Now he'll have to choose between his duty and the woman he loves more than life.

EXCERPT:

Denver, 1893

A polished azure sky looked down on a day that vacillated between winter and spring--a day unable to make up its mind. Cool breezes lifted Angela Chamberlain's brand-new canary yellow skirt off the moisture-laden sidewalk. A blazing hot sun dried the puddles in the street left over from last night's deluge.

Unlike the day, Angela had no trouble making up her mind. Angela knew what she wanted out of life. She touched one finger to the sapphire earrings adorning her newly pierced ears.

She wanted adventure.

She had a terrible craving to see the world--to climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower, to walk the Great Wall of China. She yearned to fly in a hot-air balloon high above the earth, or ride in a gondola in Venice. She wanted to fall in love with a man who was as brave and smart as her father and as dangerous as Devil Blackmoor.

Angela's wish list had no end.

Instead of adventure and romance, in three short weeks she'd be enrolled in Miss Somebody's finishing school for young ladies, where knowing which fork to use was more important than riding with the wind on her favorite horse, Kangee. A place where changing one's clothes three times or more each day was common practice.

Two days ago she'd told her father she didn't want to go.

And two days ago her father had told her she would learn to appreciate the schooling and that she was a very lucky young woman. He'd also promised her a trip to the continent for a graduation present.

A graduation present! She wanted to yell at him, but wisely kept her mouth shut. She wanted to travel now. Today. But more than anything, she didn't want to be confined to the stuffy drawing rooms in the East. Just like her father, she needed freedom. But her father meant to take the choice from her.

To gossip and chatter with rich society women was not her destiny. To know which wine was served with fish would not make her happy. This was his dream for her. Sam Chamberlain needed to look to his own heart and remember the choices he had made twenty-five years ago.

Her destiny was out there somewhere, waiting for her to snap it up and hold the moment close to her heart. She knew what she wanted, and to prove her point, she'd bought a camera and had the machine sent over to the hotel. She meant to photograph all her adventures, every nook and cranny, every monument, every intriguing person.

Across the street and down two blocks, Devil Blackmoor had just taken the saddle off his horse. He brushed the stallion's back, all the while petting the animal's sleek coat and crooning into the horse's ear. Mesmerized, she watched his hands and the gentle way he stroked the horse.

She wished she had her camera.

Devil Blackmoor commanded her attention. He symbolized everything a father cautioned his daughter to be wary of. Despite the warning, Devil's strong jaw, his powerful shoulders and the confident way he held himself beckoned to every feminine nerve in Angela's body.

Angela clutched her hands to her chest, willing her gaze to shift to something or someone who wouldn't shatter her senses and set her blood boiling. Helpless to control her wayward heart, she kept looking back at Devil. She noticed everything about him, the way he moved, the way his denim jeans clung to his legs and the way they molded to his backside. Devil laughed at something the bouncer from the saloon said, and when he smiled, one edge of his mouth tilted crookedly. Ange­la's heart swooned and fluttered, and she thought she might never breathe again.

SCI/FI FANTASY SATURDAY: unbalanced leader seeks to destroy their young and shatter their world. THE AIR DRAGON'S SECRET BY KERYN MUNSON

Title: The Air Dragon's Secret

Author: Keryn Munson

ISBN: 978-1-62420-219-3

Genre: Fantasy

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TAGLINE

Young dragons Glan and Nuriel have a secret. When exposed, worlds collide as an unbalanced leader seeks to destroy their young and shatter their world.

BLURB

Young dragons Glan and Nuriel have broken dragon law, a union of fire and water punishable by death. The spark between them grows; an unbreakable bond fraught with danger. As word of their pairing spreads, clashing cultures tip an uneasy peace between earth, water, fire and air. Hunted by rival dragon groups and an unbalanced father bent on revenge, the two must decide to hide, run or fight to save their alliance and their future.

EXCERPT

Pushing through a stand of tangled bushes with thorns that tore at her scales, she burst into bright sunlight as the trees ended quickly opening onto a swamp. Glan glanced again to the left and to the right still unable to shake the feeling her father was waiting for her. With the canyon to her back she was nervous and jumpy seeing her father behind every rock or rotted stump. The trees formed almost a perfect circle around a body of water so clogged with decaying articles it made her gag.

Pools of fetid scum and stumps of fallen trees jutting from the black water made up the outer ring of the pond. She wrinkled her nose taking shallow breaths to avoid the stench of rotting vegetation and the unmistakable dead flesh of animals caught in the muck forever. Hanging grey moss decorated the few trees still standing with their roots deep in the smelly liquid, drawing water from the silt below the algae. The carpet of moss disappeared turning into squelching black mud that sucked her feet down into the sludge. 'Hmmm...not very fresh, it smells like death.' she thought her face showing disgust as she edged her way around the stinking liquid in the darkness of the trees carefully keeping her tail in the air.

At the center the water was free of algae and festooned with blooming lily pads floating lazily on the surface rotating slowly in the morning breeze. 'Funny,' she thought, 'there isn't any frozen water or even any hint of snow here.' The air was much warmer and as she waded through the tepid water bubbles rose near her feet then popped, spewing a dead smell toward her nose. Grimacing, Glan looked again at the center where the pink and white lilies drifted surrounded by their green porches where dragonflies rested. She studied the movement of water as it eddied, making crazy circles. Deducing that wind wouldn't be able to move the water in circles, Glan knew the swamp pond was fed by some fresh source. Excited she moved forward splashing eagerly, breaking the peace and quiet but determined to find clean water.

Continuing her circle around the swamp pool she made it to the halfway point. Blocking her way stood a large rock jutting from the land like a fat dragon tail. Flat on top, it was too wide to jump over. Thinking it was a good time to test out her injured wing, Glan unfolded them and gingerly stretched, giving them two test flaps. There was pain but not much. Launching gracefully into the air she jumped to the top walking four or five steps to the other side. Near the far edge and using her wings again but carefully, Glan descended.

~ * ~

Before she could really move, a dragon rose up on the other side of the boulder. The orange and yellow colors of the skin told her this was a fire breather. Even from the ground the dragon towered over the boulder and, rising to its full height, they were eye level. The startled face of the fire dragon had a slender nose and triangular shaped head wearing multi-colored scales giving off small sparks. Amber met blue as they gazed at each other. Glan stopped dead in her tracks still flapping her wings slowly and ignoring the pain. Her feet found the rock again and she poised unsure of what to do next. The dragon from her dream stared at her with those blazing eyes. He was the fire breather she believed tried to kill her just the day before.

Glan hissed. Turning rapidly she ran to the edge of the rock, her wings ready for flight. Hearing a snort behind her, she prepared to take off despite the pain flying caused. Barely registering the whisper sound of wings not her own Glan heard a soft thud as the dragon landed in front of her on the other side of the rock, blocking her escape. Was air combat better for her with her wing disabled or did a ground fight give her a better advantage where she could escape into the forest? She quickly dismissed both strategies, this was a fire dragon and water was her only hope.

"How far do you think you'd get with that injured wing?" the dragon asked in a voice matching not only his size but his color, the tones amber colored, honeysweet and deep. Her jaw dropped in surprise and she fought to find her tongue.

"Far enough," Glan answered shortly while furtively looking to the right where the water shimmered darkly. Not moving from her spot her mind raced, planning her escape route silently. The big male regarded her with interest and, to her complete surprise, stepped aside.

"Fine, go ahead," he said, "don't let me keep you," sounding amused.

Eyes narrowed to slits, wondering where the trick was, she spread her wings, flapping them aggressively to let him know she was not afraid. Even though he was bigger she was faster, more compact and far more courageous than he probably anticipated. Giving him a look full of suspicion mixed with curiosity, she challenged him.

FRIDAY'S FEATURED TITLE: A fast-paced miracle story about a runaway mom who goes to Tokyo to find herself, but discovers the strength of family and the power of love. TEN YEN TOKYO BY CHRISTINA ST. CLAIR & AMANDA ARMSTRONG

Title: Ten Yen Tokyo

Author: Christina St. Clair

  Amanda Armstrong

ISBN: 978-1-62420-272-8

Genre: Spiritual Fiction

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Book Heat Level: 2

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TAGLINE

A fast-paced miracle story about a runaway mom who goes to Tokyo to find herself, but discovers the strength of family and the power of love. 

BLURB

Seagull wanted to soar just like her namesake, didn’t she? When she heads to Tokyo in search of herself, she is drawn into a world of mystery and miracles. Encountering many colourful characters as she travels, she is caught up in a dark underworld that forces her to question her scientific mind as well as her family values. Can Seagull believe in the unknown and can she lay the ghosts of her past to rest so that her future can begin?

EXCERPT

Prologue

I can't believe I'm doing this. What kind of person am I? Leaving my own baby behind and him not yet two weeks old. It's not that I'm leaving him in a basket by the river, or putting him in a fire truck and turning on the alarm to alert the firemen. I am leaving him with a caring father who is gaga over him and four grandparents who think he is the most precious baby they have ever seen. My mom and dad act as if he's the reincarnation of the baby boy they lost.

Mom keeps hugging him and saying, "You are so precious, so perfect," in a hushed voice. It makes me wonder if she thought I was going to birth a kid with the sort of severe birth defects her baby had. My brother. He only lived a few hours after birth. I've not said a word to Mom about how I was almost twenty years younger than she when she had Stephen and how her age might have been part of the reason for his pitiful physical condition. I admit, though, during my pregnancy, I did have a few pangs of fear and was glad when the amniocentesis was okay. Lucas is thriving and healthy.

I simply cannot become gaga over him. When I said I didn't want him during the pregnancy, everyone ignored me or patted my back and told me not to worry. As soon as I saw him and held him against my breast, they said I'd fall in love. But I knew I wouldn't. And I didn't. I wanted a girl. In fact I want four baby girls who will love to dance and sing, who will straighten one another's hair, who will giggle at night after I turn the lights out. But now I'll not have any more babies, because what man will want to bond with me if he finds out I abandoned my first child. And I want honesty in my relationship. I don't want secrets between my man and me.

I could, I suppose, change my name. But how will I manage that? Unless I really am the person behind the name, it will be a big lie. I need to travel far away. I think I will go to the west coast, maybe to Seattle. I could get lost in a big city easily enough where no one will ever find me. I can keep my name and social security number and get a job.

Will John try to find me? Perhaps he'll send the police after me. They might locate me. I'll have to leave a note telling John I have left. Forever. Explaining my love for John wasn't enough, and I have no love at all for this baby boy. I told John to name him whatever he likes—he wanted me to choose, but I didn't care enough. I could not come up with one single name—which is a sure sign of the depth of my feeling of, well, disinterest. I am not interested in caring for this infant. He should have been a girl and things might have been different.

How will I cope without my parents? They will be so hurt, so worried, but they have my twin sister. She is not identical but she is much more pleasant than I've ever been. A bit controlling maybe, but usually no trouble. Me, I was always a rebel, always giving mom and dad grief. I could change my name from the awful one they stuck with me that gave me nothing but misery growing up. Seagull. Can you imagine being called such a thing! I hated it as a child when other kids would raise their arms like wings.

But now, I see, it was right for me. I am Seagull. I am about to fly.

Oh yeah, my twin sister's name is Sarah. Of course. She will, like the Biblical Sarah, have a baby she adores when she's in her nineties. I suspect she may have quite a few sooner since she just married Doug who is her dream guy. Okay, he's not an athlete, but she loves him for his geeky glasses, his sweet smile, his puny arms.

My John is so macho, so masculine. He matches me.

But I must fly. I must fly.

This story is straight from the heart. Told in a passive voice and as a first person account through Elice and Micha's eyes. THE GIFT BY CHRISTINE YOUNG FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED

The Gift

Christine Young

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REVIEW:

This story is straight from the heart. Told in a passive voice and as a first person account through Elice and Micha's eyes. Their thoughts tug your heartstings. Their memory of their past life, the war and of course the present. They never fell out of love but exhuming those feelings hurt. They also had to face the consequences of their actions when an unexpected visitor arrived in their plantation home. Elice and Micha found out that in war, there is something worst than death and it is cowardice.

BLURB:

A man and a woman on opposite sides of the Civil War get a second chance at love after one final battle returns soldiers to their war-torn homes to rebuild their lives.

EXCERPT:

"Get in the house, now!"

"Mama?"

Elice Weld shielded her eyes and watched the ground fog rising in the distance. She didn't know what was coming her way, but she could guess. The rumors that a Union cavalry unit was in the vicinity had spread like a wildfire on a Kansas prairie.

Rain had fallen all morning. Now the clouds had separated, and the sun heated the earth, causing the evaporation of the water-soaked ground. The cavalry rode through the mist like dark, avenging wraiths bent on the destruction of all mankind. She could see seven men silhouetted on the horizon.

"Izzy, go." Elice didn't want to frighten her daughter but the urgency of the moment could not be denied.

"But mama?"

"Go to the cellar. Now."

"It's dark."

Izzy's voice echoed in Elice's head, filling her with a wild panic she didn't know how to stop. Every time soldiers approached she was terrified. The last four years had been the longest years of her life. "Do as I say, quickly." Elice hugged her daughter, turning her at the same moment and with a gentle shove sent her through the open door of her house.

"Izzy."

Elice knew the panic in her voice would mobilize her young daughter. She despised the fear and the terror. She loathed the war. She looked up. The fog was dissipating, and she could see the dark blue of the Union coats. She didn't have anything left for the soldiers to take. Good God, they'd taken everything already--everything save her daughter and her hope for the future.

She inhaled a quick breath then stood on the steps, hands folded together in front of her, watching the dark wraiths inch closer. She knew from experience she couldn't fight these men. She would do as they said and when they left, she would put the pieces of her life back together.

Until the next time…

"Mama," Elice jumped when her daughter tugged on her skirt before looking at her with sorrow-filled eyes. "Are the soldiers going to take my doll?"

"No," Elice ruffled her little girl's hair. "Go back inside. Go to the cellar and don't come out until I tell you it's safe."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine." But Elice knew she might be lying to her child. She wasn't always fine when the soldiers invaded their home. "Now go and don't make me say it again. Stay there until I come for you."

Izzy nodded before she turned and walked through the parlor to the stairs leading to the cellar.

When Deacon appeared in Las Vegas he knew his first job was to save Lyn from a Sea Demon, but the next order of business was to convince her he would someday mean more to her than she’d ever expected. SWEET TALKIN' SUGAR BY CHRISTINE YOUNG

Title: Sweet Talkin' Sugar

Author: Christine Young

ISBN: 978-1-62420-243-8

Email: achristay@aol.com

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 4

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Lyonesse McKenna, was dreaming or was she? From the instant Lyn saw Deacon McClain across a black jack table in a crowed Las Vegas casino the unmistakable attraction sent Lyn’s senses flying into overdrive. Her family of shapeshiters believed in soul mates. She’d always been sceptical yet she couldn’t help but question the way her heart sped when he looked at her.

When Deacon appeared in Las Vegas he knew his first job was to save Lyn from a Sea Demon, but the next order of business was to convince her he would someday mean more to her than she’d ever expected. But her stubborn nature and unbendable spirit consumed Deacon...and he had to chase away all the demons real and imagined in order to win her heart.

EXCERPT

In observation mode, he walked through the casino, hands in his pockets, listening and watching, his heart racing. Before the blackjack table at the end of the row, he paused to reflect and decide on a course of action. The air inside was sultry, hot and smoke-filled. He swept one hand through his damp hair, fresh from a summer rain. He forced his mind from the heat and the rancid smell of cigarettes, and with single-minded focus, stared at the table and the cards lying innocuously on the green felt.

The picture of cool calmness, she sat on a bar stool, a drink in hand and cards in the other, her legs crossed provocatively. Her daringly cut emerald V-neck dress didn't leave much to the imagination, but he forced his gaze to the man beyond who stared at her as if he owned her. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end and a chill slivered down his spine, nerves on edge, muscles tensed. His brows furrowed when the man turned his attention, for one brief moment, his way.

The dealer gave her another card and she tipped one corner up to look at it then let it go. Her body language spoke volumes to him and he wondered if the dealer noticed too. The poker face she so obviously tried for was something she'd never possess.

Deacon McClain paused before settling on a bar stool across the table from her. He waited for the last hand to finish before placing his chips in front of him and nodding to the dealer he was ready to play. His fingers closed around his glass of whiskey as his heart thundered in his chest. She glanced his way, inquisitively cocking her head to one side before slanting him a sexy-as-hell-grin.

The grin sent a message that nearly catapulted him from his seat. Inhaling a deep breath to calm his splintering nerves, he turned his attention back to the cards he'd just been dealt. Not good, not good at all, he motioned for another, then sat back and gazed at Lyonesse. Lyn McKenna, the woman he'd been sent to find and bring home. He'd never believed this gig to be an easy one, but now he felt sure this might be his most difficult assignment of all. Her easy grin sent his heart into a tailspin and her long shapely legs were hard to ignore. What would happen if she gave him her full attention?

He'd lose all sense of perspective and balance.