Sunday, March 04, 2018

#RomanceSunday #DoorToHeaven #HistoricalRomance





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 naiveté. 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?"

ALSO BY CHRISTINE YOUNG




BLURB

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.


Saturday, March 03, 2018

#YA #Sci/fifantasySaturday #OdeToRebellion #Sci/fi


They can’t control who their parents are or whether their blood is pure or tainted, but all hybrids must die.



EXCERPT: Ode to Rebellion

I stand silently until the H.P.V. gets here, and we board it. I get comfortable in a seat, knowing I have a long ride back to base.
“Are you sure you are alright?” Nova asks after a few moments.
“I’m fine, I promise,” I respond, leaning back against the seat and closing my eyes.
The H.P.V. falls silent again, all I hear are the sounds of my soft breaths and the occasional sigh from Nova. This will probably be all the silence I get for a while. The second we arrive back at base people will be rushing around, speaking to me, ordering me to go places.
The H.P.V. stays silent for a while. Suddenly there is a loud crash, and the H.P.V. trembles in the sky. My eyes shoot open. I look to Nova, who has jumped to his feet.
“What the hell was that?” he exclaims as he presses the button to open the door to the pilot.
The door slides open. The pilot presses buttons and flips switches one after another.
“Shots from the ground,” the pilot answers flatly.
Nova groans, turning back to me. “One of them must have hit a panic button before I could take them both down. They alerted a bigger base and now they are tailing us, trying to shoot us down. Damn it.”
He slams his fist into the wall of the H.P.V. making me jump.
“We have to do something before we get shot out of the sky. So, what are we going to do?” I stand, making my way over to Nova.
I look out the front window of the H.P.V., nothing but flat land as far as my eyes can see. “Go faster,” I say, “Let’s see if we can outrun them.”
“Those hydro-guns have a long range, Ara,” Nova counters.
“What else can we do? Set this thing down and fight? That would be the worst idea you’ve ever had. We have no idea how many are down there. We have no idea exactly what weapons they have. We have no idea if they have back up. If you want to set down, by all means, take your chances. Personally, I would like to live to see tomorrow,” I retort.
“What should I do?” the pilot asks.
“But…” Nova starts.
“Listen to me, Nova,” I sigh.
“What do I do?” the pilot asks again.
Suddenly another blast hits the ship. I stumble into Nova as we both yell, “Go faster.”
Nova hits the floor with a loud thump, groaning from my weight on top of him. I push myself up quickly, trying to avoid an awkward situation. I let out a puff of air, trying to blow a wisp of hair out of my face as I stand.
I straighten out my cuirass as I mumble, “Sorry.”
Nova gets back up without a word and leans against the door frame, looking out the window.
“We seem to be losing them.” the pilot states.
“Good,” I nod, sitting back down.
The rest of the flight back to the base is calm. We land at the base. Nova and I don’t exchange any words as we get off the H.P.V. I head straight back to my room, weaving through the masses of Humans and Oderians in the hallways of the base. I finally get back to my room and drop off my things. As I unload my pack I hear a light knock on the door.
“Come in,” I drone. I hear the swish of the door opening and closing. I glance up and see Nova. “What do you want?”
“I came here to say that I am here if you want to talk,” he says.
I burst into laughter, “Do you really think after everything you put me through I am going to come and confide in you? That’s funny.”
“Ara. I’m serious.” He takes several steps closer, setting his hand on my shoulder.
I push his hand away. “Nova, I’m not the same hybrid I was when we got here. I was scared, helpless. I had no idea what was happening. Now? Now if you want to mess with me, make me mad, please, by all means, go ahead, but I’m going to warn you it’s going to hurt. I’m tougher than I used to be. You really want me to confide in you? Then how’s this, based on what those two Constables said, Father probably died all those moons ago because I didn’t go back for him. I abandoned him. I abandoned him and everyone else I cared about. Guess what? I bet they are all dead now. Nova, I want to believe you, but I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I ever will. So, you need to get over yourself and move on.” I turn back to unloading my stuff.
I grab a cloth and my staff. I perch myself on the edge of my regeneration tube, and as I begin to polish my staff there is another knock on the door.
I sigh, “I can’t catch a break, can I?” I close my eyes for a moment then open them and call, “Come in.”
Nova looks at me as I glance up at the door to see who came in. I see that it is one of the main leaders of the rebels.
“Yes?” I ask as I turn toward him, putting on a fake smile.
“Messier would like to see you two,” the Oderian says.
“Lead the way,” I reply.



Author Bio:

A. M. Harris is a young author from Tulsa, Oklahoma. She has had a passion for writing since the first grade. This book actually started as a project for her seventh-grade reading class and she continued writing it on into high school. Not only does she love to write but she also enjoys music and plays flute in her high school marching band. She is a dedicated student and works hard to achieve her goals

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