Satin and Lipstick Blog

2012-03-10T19:24:00.002-08:00

Another Review at MyShelf.Com

Whisper of Yesterday
Julie A. Darcy
Secret Craving Publishing http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/
March 28th 2012 - Ebook / September 2012 - print
Historical / Paranormal / Romance
Amazon

Reviewed by Cornelia Amiri
"He glanced down to see a red rose-the color of blood by firelight. He could have sworn it hadn't been there before. He picked it up. It was ice cold, sending a chill through his hand. He rubbed at a petal, and found it waxy almost slimy to his touch. And as he watched, one by one, each petal dropped away to wither and turn to rust upon the bare wooden floor. He realized whatever Thornwood held in store, it would not be of the ordinary."

Indeed there is nothing ordinary about Thornwood castle or the romance novel set there, Whisper of Yesterday by Julie Darcy. This incredible cross genre novel is a Paranormal/Historical/Suspense/Romance. Readers who enjoy books with spies, ghosts, England, witches, reincarnation, the moors, or haunted castles will adorethis enchanting novel.

The tale begins in the modern era when an American, Cole de Morgan, inherits a haunted castle in Cornwall, but there are stipulations in the will. He must arrive on All Hallows Eve and stay a month. As the story unfolds, the reader is taken to the 17th century when the heroine, Aylissa Llywellen de Morgan, is burned at the stake as a witch in the courtyard of Thornwood castle. She puts a curse on the man who killed her husband, her child, and herself, Gedrych de Morgan, causing his line to be cast from Thornwood Castle until Cai walks its halls once more. Cai de Morgan was Gedrych's son and Aylissa's husband, who except for having longer hair looked just like Cole. After burning her at the stake, Gedrych bound Aylissa's ghost to the castle by moving a ring of ancient druid standing stones into the courtyard.

As the tale continues it moves into the early nineteenth century and we meet our hero, Lord Aidan Tristan Wyndmire de Morgan, an English spy, who wins Thornwood castle in a card game. His appearance is also the exact likeness of Cai de Morgan except his hair is shorter. He soon becomes involved with the resident ghost, Aylissa, and seeks to explore his attraction to her and to discover the secret of the hold she has over him. As the story travels between the three time periods, the reader beholds a love so strong and magical it overcomes death.

It is always hard for an author to find a creative way to involve a ghost, with the limitations of a spirit's body, in the tantalizing, heated love scenes of a romance. Julie Darcy's method is smooth, superb, and original. I found myself so attached to the intriguing, fully fleshed out characters of Alyssa and Aidan that I know they will haunt me for some time to come. Whisper of Yesterday is a page turner from a familiar Gothic beginning, when an American Scientist braves a blinding thunderstorm on Halloween to reach a castle he unexpectedly inherited, to a surprising, thrilling, and joyful twist at the end. Whisper of Yesterday is an enchanting read, not to be missed. This one's for the keeper shelf.

Reviewer's Note: Book will be on Amazon AUG 2012. Author's website for more info http://www.julieadarcy.com/whisperofyesterday.htm

Reviewed 2012

2012-02-18T20:38:00.000-08:00

I have a new novel coming out in March and thought I would share a small extract.
This novel starts in modern day and is mostly set in the 1800's in Cornwall.
It has the elements of an historical, ghost, witch time-travel, reincarnation romance.
With a real twist at the end.

Here is my excerpt--
Whisper of Yesterday-

He stared down into the courtyard. All was darkness. Nothing moved. Not a night creature called. He swung to face into the room. It was lit by only the faintest of moonlight and a low-burning fire.
It had to have been a dream.
Naked; the breeze was cold, but sweat still trickled down his back. He stared down at his hands. They trembled. “It was a dream.” If he repeated the words emphatically enough, perhaps he would believe them.
He ran a hand through his hair. He had been in Cai de Morgan’s body. He had seen what he had seen, done what he had done, and thought what he had thought. It was as if he was a spectator in another time and all had been beyond his control. Yet as incredible as it was, he had been there. And who was Cai de Morgan? What was the man to him? And more so, who was the woman? Why did she remind him so much of the woman in the fire? Countess Llewellyn, the woman who supposed to haunt this castle?
He strode to the dresser, lit a candle, and crossed to the large freestanding mirror in the corner. Critically, he viewed his features. Was it his imagination, or was there the slightest hint of another image superimposed over his own? Did the face look more angular, the jaw harder? He held the candle closer to the glass, and a chill prickled the back of his neck. The hair on the man in the mirror waved and curled past his shoulders, and there standing behind him was a woman. A woman with a riot of deep red hair, brilliant emerald eyes, full lips, and fine brows—a woman with the face of an angel—the woman in his dream. His hand tightened on the candlestick. It felt as if it were frozen; his fingers glued and could not be uncurled.
She no longer wore the yellow gown and headdress, but instead the white shift she had worn the first night he had seen her amidst the fire in the courtyard.
Their eyes met and held in the reflection.
He swallowed, trying to free up his throat, trying to force words that would not come. As he watched, she drifted closer, yet no step could he hear on the polished wooden floor.
“Who are you?” he managed at last, his words a strained whisper. He twisted around. She vanished. He swung back and stared into the mirror. She stood behind him with a look of accusation in her green eyes. It was as if he was a moth and she pinned him with her diamond bright gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I had to be certain.” He spoke quietly, afraid to raise his voice least she disappear. “Will not you speak to me? Will not you tell me your name?”
She opened her mouth, and just a soft sound issued forth, almost a sigh, as if it was coming from a long distance. “Cai.”
Cai. Had she said Cai? The man in the dream had been Cai. The man whose body he had inhabited for a short time. Inhabited. The thought disturbed him, but he could think of no other word to describe the happening. Was he going crazy? But no crazier than seeing and talking to a ghost. Again he wondered what Cai de Morgan had to do with him. How Cai was connected to the murdered Countess.
“I have so many questions,” he said, holding her reflection in the mirror.
She moved closer, pressed her warm soft body to the length of his back, and encircled his waist.
His mouth went dry. He couldn't swallow. He had always thought a ghost would be cold, but he had never felt such heat as that which now filled his body and hastened to pool in his loins at the soft caress of her silken hair and the touch of her hands on his sweat-damp skin.
She leaned her smooth cheek against his shoulder, and his body hardened with desire as she tilted her head to the side to watch him for several painful heartbeats through sooty lashes, her eyes dark, intense, wanting.
Suddenly he swung to seize her, but his hand passed through a draught of cold air. Goose bumps raced up his arm. She was gone, and he cursed himself for a fool. He should have known better than to try to capture something as elusive as an angel.

2012-01-27T15:30:00.000-08:00

Davee Jones has humbaly agreed to be my guest today on my Blogg. Davee has a new fantastic book called ON ELLICOTT STREET, coming our early next month. Please look for it at http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/

OVER TO YOU DAVEE-----

Davee Jones recently had the privilege of an interview with author, Christian Carvajal. You can read more about him on his website,

http://christiancarvajal.com/ . Please enjoy this glimpse into some of what inspires Davee in her writing.-

"As for the sex in Davee's writing, "Most people do it," she shrugged. "God created it. It's a natural part of life, a very important part of life. The story I had to tell required it. Without it, the story would've been too bland."

I asked her what drew her to the subject of S&M. "That lifestyle fascinates me," she admitted. "The commitment involved is sometimes deeper than a traditional relationship." Was the novel based on her own experiences? "Some," she revealed carefully, "a small part, and other things were from people I knew or talked to. When you become interested in that lifestyle, you become friends with people who are involved."

"It changed me as I wrote it," she continued. "When you're involved as a personal experience, you can describe it better...There are some things I learned about that I'm not interested in, but someone else may be. Someone may read it and say, 'That's something I want to find out about, maybe even experience a bit deeper.' That does happen. And it's okay, as long as it happens behind closed doors."

Davee considers herself both a lover of God and a sexual free spirit. "People believe they've fallen because of certain things they've done," she says, "but if you believe in a loving God, then you have the opportunity to reconcile your relationship with Him." But she doesn't believe reconciliation has to come at the cost of a plain Jane, vanilla sex life. "I have an open mind. Open up your mind to a new experience, and you might learn something. You may not like what I have to say, but you might find some truth in there."

I asked Davee if her family already read her books. "My sisters have read it," she said. But she's ready for the inevitable fallout when her work hits the street. "I was more disturbed by my family being embarrassed, not myself at all. I had something to say, and that's why I didn't write under an anonymous pen name." Indeed, her actual maiden name is Davee Jones, which should come in handy as she starts her publicity campaign--she already has the name of a rock star. She and I are from similar small towns in Oklahoma, where expectations are limited and people don't write about taboo subjects. But as Davee puts it--a sentiment with which I wholeheartedly agree--"I've got something to say, and I'm proud of what I have to say."

I admire Davee's courage. In coming months, I'll be attempting to share it. Like Davee, I know there are people, even people who know me relatively well, who'll assume if I write about a sexual act, then I must be revealing my personal history (or my wife's). Like Davee, I'll inject relevant experiences into my work, never saying what's what or who helped, and then draw the rest from conversations with close friends or pure imagination. Get ready to know me a little better than you probably intended to.

In the meantime, check out On Ellicott Street and Finless. You may be inspired to visit your friendly local purveyor of fur-lined handcuffs. If so, hold your head high. It's a free world, not-so-Gentle Reader, and you're free to find the love you want in it. If Davee's right, even God will understand.

2012-01-26T20:24:00.000-08:00

Hi, this was writen quite a while ago by my old friend Peter E. Abresch--- I thought it was interesting enough to post.

There is law, that which is, and folklore, that which we only
believe, just as there are naysayers, those who would discourage us
simply because we don't fit their folklore image of a writer, and
reality, the very real odds a writer faces in seeking fulfillment in
this the most difficult of arts. We must ignore the former, but be
aware of the latter if we hope to turn our sow's ear into a silk purse,
to use a cliche. (If you'd like a deeper discussion of writing as an
art, see http://www.sidewalkbooks.com/)

This is the subject of BookMarc #19
Naysayers and Reality.

First the folklore.

Agent Aaron Priest has said everyone thinks they can write a book.
Everyone. And yet, in a bit of a paradox, when we first embark on our
writing journey, we will find many who will ridicule what we are doing.
The reason is most people can't conceive of actually knowing someone who
has a written novel. When they are poo-pooing us--like that neat bit of
terminology--what they are really poo pooing is their own lack of
imagination. And even after getting a book published, we'll find that
people will still look at it with suspicion. Like, it's not a real
book, right? So the answer here is to be judicious in who we tell about
stringing words together.

Be judicious also in who we ask to evaluate our work. Some will
become instant critics and hate it all, others will love everything
because we did it. Neither are of any help. But a good critique group,
other writers who point out both pluses and minuses and offer
constructive suggestions, are worth their weight in gold. Always thank
them, and never argue. Never. If we speak up and say, "what I was
trying to say here was...," then what we need to go back and say what we
were trying to say. On the other hand, a critique is just another view
of our work. We should seriously consider it, try it on and see how it
fits, but in the end, it's our work. The final judgement must be ours.
But don't reject it simply because it means more work.

You must also consider me as a naysayer. BookMarc. As we move
along on this journey I'll be saying things about dramatize rather than
inform, about the difficulty of getting omniscient POV right, about
mixing first and third person together, but these things are done all
the time. I'm just trying to give you my best cut. If you believe in
what you are doing, ignore me. At your own peril, of course--ha ha. In
the end, anything done well and with finesse, and perhaps a bit of luck,
works. Allow me to repeat this one more time to drive it home.
Anything done well and with finesse, and perhaps a bit of luck, works.

That brings us to the reality.

Whether you believe it or not, folks, fiction writing is an art.
And like any art, painting, sculpture, pottery, and drama to name a few,
the pay for the journeyman is small and in some cases non-existent.

For each Hollywood star there are a zillion actors appearing on
small stages, in little theater, as extras, or as actor/ticket sellers.
For each person on the NYT best seller list there are a thousands of
midlist authors scraping by, and not scraping by. And for each of these
guys, there are thousands of pre-published and maybe
never-to-be-published authors learning their craft.

Fiction writing is the most difficult art in which to find
fulfillment. An artist can hang a painting on the wall, whether it's
good or not. A musician can play Mozart on a street corner. But the
only venue open for the fiction writer is to be published. And to do
that, he/she has to complete against all the other fiction writers in
the country, and perhaps the world. Those who teach writing, especially
those looking for students, often say that good writing will always win
out it the end. I don't want to discourage anyone, but I don't believe
it. There will always be terrific books that a publishing house won't
take a chance on because it's been done before, or because it's never
been done before. To fight against these odds takes real passion and
the desire to hone our craft until it is a work of art. I think I
mentioned a quote from Steve Martin. When asked how to succeed in show
biz, he said, "Be so good they can not ignore you." The same applies to
writing.

So, if you want to make money, IMHO, sell cumquats, or write
non-fiction, it sells easier and has a longer shelf life.

But if you want to write fiction, sit down with me in splendid
isolation, spin words into worlds, and in those rare moments when a
phrase or a sentence slips out of the ether so grand we have wonder
where it came from, and it's a keeper, enjoy the moment, for it's like
being touched by God.

It seems fitting here to repeat Hemingway's quote, "We are all
apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master."

BTW, is you know of a writer off list who would like these
BookMarcs, have them email me with Subscribe BookMarc And I'll add them
to the list.

Also if you'd like to check out some other discussions and the
table of contents of upcoming BookMarcs, click on the BookMarc a couple
of times at: http://www.easyreadingwriting.com

And remember: It's always better to light a candle in your mind by
reading Easy Reading Writing than to curse the darkness of rejections.
To check out the first two chapters with an easy order link to B&N,
simply click on: http://www.elderhostelmysteries.com/ERW002

Peter E. Abresch - BookMarc© February 13, 1998.
Author of The Faltese Malcom, Capitol Coven, If They Ask for a Hand at:
http://www.sidewalkbooks.com and the James P. Dandy Elderhostel
mysteries at:
http://www.elderhostelmysteries.com

2012-01-22T12:00:00.000-08:00

AUSTRALIAN NEWS TODAY

What is your View? LEAVE A COMMENT

Australia will no longer passively accept the arrival of asylum-seeker boats from Indonesia if Tony Abbott has his way.

The Opposition Leader is determined to impose a new and tougher policy whereby Australia uses its navy to secure its borders.

If elected prime minister, Mr Abbott will tell Jakarta Australia will no longer passively accept the arrival of asylum-seeker boats from that country, The Australian reported last night.

A radical policy departure, this has far-reaching and unpredictable consequences for Australia-Indonesia relations.

In recent talks with his colleagues, Mr Abbott said: "This is a test of wills and Australia has lost.

"What counts is what the Australian government does, not what it says.

"It is time for Australia to adopt turning the boats as its core policy."

Mr Abbott said this would involve an increase in the number of naval vessels to force the boats back, including the capacity to remove asylum-seekers from deliberately sabotaged boats before repairing those vessels to enable the boat people to be returned to Indonesia.

The Coalition has also ruled out a political deal to revive Labour's Malaysia Solution and is planning a tougher regimen of temporary protection visas.

This includes a quota on the number of permanent visas issued to temporary protection visa holders to favour authorised asylum-seekers and to provide a disincentive to people making the journey by boat.

The Australian Greens have described the concept as "illegal and immoral".

Greens senator Sarah Hanson-Young said the idea overrides Australia's international obligations under the refugee convention.

"It's immoral because it will put at risk the lives of navy personnel and asylum seekers," she said in a statement.

"Navy personnel who served during the Howard years have said turning back boats was distressing and they were in danger while they carried out the government's policy."

- With AAP

2012-01-19T23:46:00.000-08:00

Nice Refreshing recipee for left over Lemonade.

Ingredients

4 ounces prepared lemonade
2 tablespoons frozen concentrated fruit punch
4 fluid ounces carbonated water

Directions

Fill half of a tall glass with lemonade. Stir in 2 tablespoons frozen fruit punch concentrate. Pour in carbonated water until glass is full.

Nutritional Information

Amount Per Serving Calories: 101 | Total Fat: 0g | Cholesterol: 0mg

2012-01-14T19:21:00.000-08:00

Kathryn Meyer Griffith

Hi
today and for the next couple of days. I would like to welcome STAR AUTHOR-Kathryn Meyer Griffith: onto my Blogg

If you leave a comment for Kathryn you will be put in the running for a pdf. copy of The Ice Bridge. All I need is the heroine and the hero's name :-) and your email in case you win, thanks.
Further down the page Kathryn has written as essay on how the idea of The ICE BRIDGE came about. I hope you will spare a few moments to read this very informative article.

2012 Finalist for the EPIC EBOOKS AWARD for her THE LAST

VAMPIRE-Revised Author's Edition.
***

BLURB of The Ice Bridge by Kathryn Meyer Griffith:

She’ll fall in love again…with a man and the island.

Charlotte returns to her Aunt Bess and Mackinac Island, a

quaint retreat that welcomes summer tourists and allows no

cars to renew herself and write about the island’s ghosts.

She’s come to help Bess with her heartache, an ended love

with Shaun, and to renew a friendship with neighbor Hannah.

In winter Mackinac closes down and everyone looks forward to

the ice bridge that freezes across the Straits of Mackinac.

Until Hannah disappears into the icy waters crossing it.

Everyone says it’s an accident. But Charlotte and her

admirer cop friend, Mac, don’t think so. Something isn’t

right. Hannah was too smart to go off the path.

So it’s murder…but why…how…by whom?

In the end, it’s Mac–and perhaps Hannah’s ghost–who

saves Charlotte and Bess’s lives when the killer decides

they’re too close to the truth and tries to kill them,

too.

***

Eternal Press Buy Links:

http://www.eternalpress.biz/people.php?author=422

http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615725182

YOU TUBE BOOK TRAILER:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28HZqu-my1g

Amazon Buy Page:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias=stripbooks&field-keywords=The+Ice+Bridge+Kathryn+Meyer+Griffith&x=15&y=18

The Ice Bridge is an awesome book! It’s full of mystery, intrigue, and just a
touch of romance. It’s also full of ghost stories. They are brilliant and really add
something extra to the story. The characters are great and well developed. I loved
Hannah, she was a wonderful substitute grandmother to Charlotte. This book
is not a gushy romance and doesn’t have any love scenes, but I think it’s better
without them. I was beginning to wonder if Charlotte and Mac were ever going to
realize that they were falling for each other, but once tragedy struck, he was there
for her and their love began to blossom. The story focuses more on the interaction
between the characters and the mystery involving the ice bridge. The way it is
written, you almost feel like you are right there with the characters and a part
of the story. You especially experience Charlotte’s emotions first hand, I think
that might be why I had a hard time sleeping while reading this book – I was a
little spooked, but it was worth it! I would definitely recommend The Ice Bridge,
especially if you like ghost stories; it is well worth your time and the investment!
—Victoria Lyn at MANIC READERS REVIEWS

********

The Writing of THE ICE BRIDGE
ETERNAL PRESS LINK:http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615725182
YOU TUBE BOOK TRAILER: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28HZqu-my1g
By Kathryn Meyer Griffith
November 7, 2011

Eight years ago my husband, Russell, and I were celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and decided to return to quaint Mackinac Island in Michigan. We’d been there a few years before, but just for a quick afternoon stopover on our way home from visiting family in Wisconsin. We’d loved the Island for the few hours we’d been on it and promised ourselves we’d go there again someday. So when we began to plan for our anniversary vacation we traveled back for a longer stay of six days. I’d made reservations months ahead at the Iroquois Hotel on the water’s edge of Lake Huron and when the time came, after packing up everything we’d need, we jumped in the car and took off.
The Island doesn’t allow cars, only bicycles, horses and snowmobiles (in the winter) so we left our vehicle in a Mackinaw City parking lot on the mainland and boarded the ferry that would take us across the water to the Island, our luggage and two bicycles in tow. It was much cheaper to bring our own bikes instead of rent them there.
It was late August and the Island was beautiful. Crowded with colorful, fragrant flowers, clomping horses, whizzing bicycles and, of course, lots of tourists. Fudgies as they were called because they came, purchased and devoured so much of the little town’s fudge.
The Iroquois Hotel was lovely with its bright pastel colors and friendly service; a fancy in-house restaurant and our room with its wall of windows facing the lake. A lake that to me was as large as an ocean…because it went on forever.
Our six days there were heaven. We rode our bikes, peddling around the horses, carriages, and equine taxis, around the eight-mile in circumference island and enjoyed the sights. The friendly people. The breathtaking views of water, boats and woods. The fudge. We sped along West Bluff Road to the ritzy Grand Hotel (made famous in the 1980 romantic time travel movie Somewhere in Time with Jane Seymour and Christopher Reeve), ate the scrumptious and lavish tourists’ brunch there and afterwards, so full we could barely ride our bicycles, we gawked at the magnificent Victorian mansions with their elaborate gardens lining Lake Shore Drive.
We visited Fort Mackinac and listened amusedly to people talk about the ghost soldier some had reported seeing when twilight began to fall. My husband, a photography buff, even slipped out of our hotel room in the middle of one foggy night to get artsy pictures with our new digital camera of the fort, hoping to catch the ghost. He captured no ghost, but plenty of stunning photographs.
One night we even sat, spellbound, as a Lake Huron thunderstorm pounded wildly at our wall of windows. It was as if we were gazing at a tumultuous ocean.
Then one day someone, in a cubbyhole of a local hamburger joint, over our lunch, said something about the ice bridge, as the islanders called it. During the dead of winter, when the straits froze over, it was a narrow path that stretched about four miles across the ice that separated Mackinac Island from the St. Ignace mainland. The locals would drive in old Christmas trees along the path to show the way, to show it was now safe. To them the ice bridge meant freedom to come and go for up to two months a year without paying ferryboat or airplane fees. To me it sparked an idea for my next book…what if someone crossed the ice bridge one wintry night and fell through the ice? And disappeared…maybe even died?
I started asking questions of the locals: Had someone ever fallen through the ice and perished? Turns out over the years, that yes, some people actually had. Fallen in. When the ice wasn’t firm enough. Or when they’d gone off the solid marked path. Or in a snowstorm. Some on snowmobiles. Some were saved, dragged out, and some had not been. Hmmm.
That’s all it took for the book to begin forming in my head. The rest of the trip I looked at the Island with different eyes. A writer’s eyes. Writer’s ears. I filed away the memories and the home-grown stories recounted to me. Though most of my earlier books were romantic horror, I’d written a couple of straight contemporary murder mysteries, Scraps of Paper and All Things Slip Away, a few years before and Avalon Books had published them. I’d quite enjoyed writing them.
So I thought I’d write another one with Mackinac Island and its real and fictional ghost tales as the background. I’d show the beauty of the island, changing of the seasons, what it was like in summer, fall and winter (tons of snow and ice), and describe the historical landmarks. I’d spotlight the quirky close-knit inhabitants and have the protagonist gather their imaginary spirit stories to put into the ghost book she was writing. I’d make the Island nearly a main character itself with its enigmas, water, snow, ice and fog.
The novel would be about a woman, Charlotte, jilted in love, coming back to heal and visit her poignant childhood playground, and her lonely Aunt Bess. She’d meet an Island cop, Matt, and together they’d not only fall in love but would embark on a great dangerous adventure together. There’d be a spunky old lady, Hannah, living next door and the four would be great friends. Until the old lady disappears on a winter’s night while crossing the ice bridge and the mystery would begin. Had Hannah been murdered by someone….how exactly…by whom…and why? The remainder of the book would be the unraveling of that mystery as the central characters try to keep from being killed themselves by the devious murderer behind Hannah’s death. I’d embed the Island’s so-called ghost tales throughout the book to spice up the story even more. So it’d be a romantic ghostly murder mystery. Ah, ha. I couldn’t wait to begin.
When my husband and I returned home, refreshed and happy, I started it right away, with the memories of lovely Mackinac still fresh in my mind. Gosh, how I’d loved that Island. A tiny piece of old-fashioned paradise. The book came easily to me. And so The Ice Bridge was born. Now with a stunning new cover by Dawne Dominique and edited by my publisher, Kim Richards Gilchrist, it’s out in the world for everyone to read and, I hope, enjoy.
Written this day of November 7, 2011 by the author Kathryn Meyer Griffith

*********************************************************************

Kathryn Meyer Griffith has been writing for nearly forty years and has published 14 novels and 7 short stories since 1984 with Zebra Books, Leisure Books, Avalon Books, The Wild Rose Press, Damnation Books and Eternal Press in the horror, romantic paranormal, suspense and murder mystery genres.

AboutKathryn Meyer Griffith...

2012EPICEBOOK AWARDS NOMINEE for her romantic horror novel

The Last Vampire-RevisedAuthor’s Edition

Sincechildhood I’ve always been an artist and worked as a graphic designer in thecorporate world and for newspapers for twenty-three years before I quit towrite full time. I began writing novels at 21 and have had fourteen (nineromantic horror, one historical romance, one romantic suspense, one romantictime travel and two murder mysteries) previous novels and eight shortstories published from Zebra Books, Leisure Books, Avalon Books, The Wild Rose Press,Damnation Books and Eternal Press.

I’vebeen married to Russell for thirty-three years; have a son, James, and twograndchildren, Joshua and Caitlyn, and I live in a small quaint town inIllinois called Columbia, which is right across the JB Bridge from St. Louis,Mo. We have two quirky cats, ghost cat Sasha and live cat Cleo, and the four ofus live happily in an old house in the heart of town. Though I’ve been an artist,and a folk singer in my youth with my brother Jim, writing has always been mygreatest passion, my butterfly stage, and I’ll probably write stories until theday I die.

***

Novelsand short stories from Kathryn Meyer Griffith:

Evil Stalks the Night (Leisure, 1984;Damnation Books, July 2012)

The Heart of the Rose (Leisure, 1985;Eternal Press Author’s Revised Edition 2010)

Eternal PressBuy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615722327

Blood Forge (Leisure, 1989; Damnation Books Author’s RevisedEdition, February 2012)

Vampire Blood (Zebra, 1991; Damnation Books Author’s RevisedEdition, July 2011)

DamnationBooks Buy Link:http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615724253

The Last Vampire (Zebra, 1992; Damnation BooksAuthor’s Revised Edition out October 2010) Damnation Books Buy Link: http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615722075

You Tube BookTrailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZU77j_q4S8

Witches (Zebra, 1993; Damnation Books Author’s RevisedEdition out April 2011)

DamnationBooks Buy Link:http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615723553

The Nameless One (short story in 1993 ZebraAnthology Dark Seductions; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition,2011) Damnation Books Buy Link: http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615723201

The Calling (Zebra, 1994; Damnation Books Author’s RevisedEdition, 2011)

DamnationBooks Buy Link: http://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615725007

Scraps of Paper (Avalon Books Murder Mystery,2003)

All Things Slip Away (Avalon Books MurderMystery, 2006)

Egyptian Heart (The Wild Rose Press, 2007;Author’s Revised Edition, Eternal Press 2011)

Eternal Press buy link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615724437 My self-made

You Tube BookTrailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cogCNYKzPqc

Winter’s Journey (The Wild Rose Press, 2008;Author’s Revised Edition, Eternal Press 2011) Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615724604)

You Tube BookTrailer address: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FZYCs2DVhHg

The Ice Bridge (The Wild Rose Press, 2008;Author’s Revised Edition, Eternal Press 2011)

Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615725182

You Tube BookTrailer:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28HZqu-my1g

Don’tLook Back, Agnes novella & bonus short story: In This House (2008; ghostly romanticshort story out; Eternal Press in January 2012)

You Tube Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3q9rZryFMo

Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/people.php?author=422

BEFORE THE END: A Time of Demons (Damnation Books 2010)

DamnationBooks buy link: httphttp://damnationbooks.com/book.php?isbn=9781615721313

You Tube self-made Book trailer with originalsong http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0-U9c2Lwfo

The Woman in Crimson (Damnation Books 2010)

Eternal Press Buy Link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615721979

You Tube Book Trailer Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qcRBvDI5G4Y

My Websites:

http://www.myspace.com/kathrynmeyergriffith(to see all my book trailers withoriginal music by my singer/songwriter brother JS Meyer)

http:// www.bebo.com/kathrynmeyerG
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=1019954486

http://www.authorsden.com/kathrynmeyergriffith

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/profile.php?id=1019954486

http://www.jacketflap.com/K.Griffith

http://www.shoutlife.com/kathrynmeyergriffith

http://www.goodreads.com/profile/kathrynmeyergriffith

http://romancewriterandreader.ning.com/profile/KathrynMeyerGriffith

http://romancebookjunction.ning.com/profile/kathrynmeyergriffith

E-mail me atrdgriff@htc.net

****I loveto hear from my readers.

Mybooks (most out again fromDamnation Books and Eternal Press): Evil Stalks the Night, The Heart of the Rose,Blood Forge, Vampire Blood, The Last Vampire, Witches, The Nameless One short story, The Calling, Scraps of Paper, All ThingsSlip Away, Egyptian Heart, Winter's Journey, The Ice Bridge, Don't Look Back,Agnes novella, In This House shortstory, BEFORE THE END: A Time of Demons,The Woman in Crimson, The Guide to Writing Paranormal Fiction: Volume 1 (Idid the Introduction)

***

Eternal Press Buy Links:

http://www.eternalpress.biz/people.php?author=422

http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615725182

YOU TUBE BOOK TRAILER:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28HZqu-my1g

Amazon Buy Page:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias=stripbooks&field-keywords=The+Ice+Bridge+Kathryn+Meyer+Griffith&x=15&y=18

2012-01-08T14:38:00.000-08:00

She is far from the land where her young herosleeps,

And lovers around her are sighing;

But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps,

For her heart in his grave is lying.

– Thomas Moore

Excerpt from "Whisper of Yesterday" March 2012 in ePrint all formats, paperback September 2012. Secret Cravings Publishing.

He was in her room. She watched while his valethelped him off with his topcoat and muddy boots, and knelt to add more wood tothe dying fire in the black marble fireplace. The man he called Bevan retired,taking his master’s boots with him.

She shivered as the kindlingburst into flame and the fire danced higher in the grate. How she hated fire.Although she felt none of its heat, she still remembered its torturous bite asit stole the life from her body. She crossed her hands over her chest in aprotective gesture and moved closer to the man standing by the bed. He wasloosening the buttons of his white lawn shirt.

He looked so like her love, ifshe could have wept, she would have now. His hair was blue-black like Cai’s,but whereas Cai’s had fallen in a tangle of curls past his shoulders, thisman’s was trimmed short and settled upon his pointed collar.

His features looked softer, lessangular, yet he seemed to carry an aura of deep sadness that she could notexplain. He pulled his neck cloth from around his throat and tossed it onto anearby brocade chair. A cravat, she thought they called it. Fashion had changedmuch over the last two centuries, but she had stayed abreast of it, watching peoplemove in and out over the years, hearing them talk.

She smiled. None ever stayedlong. Though, in a strange sort of way she missed them.

It had been some years now sincethe castle had been occupied by anyone other than herself and Tom. SinceMeredith. She had liked the Countess. Meredith had reminded her a lot ofherself, with her red flowing hair and green eyes and fun-loving nature. Theyhad held such lively conversations in the garden, and Meredith had been not onewhit afraid of her. But as for her foolish little husband—Alyssa wished she hadpulled the trigger on him herself, the day he killed her friend.

Then there was Wyndham, who hadstopped for less than a day, looked over the castle and stables, and hastenedaway. She had not even had to put in an appearance to get rid of that one.Though Tom had told her he still put his hand out for the money from thetenants these past fifteen months. Not that there had been much, for those whohad come before had bled the place dry, selling off anything that would bring ashiny penny.

They had not touched her room,though. She had seen to that. And now he was here, and she knew neither thereason nor rhyme, and did not care. For two hundred years she had waited.Knowing one day he would come. He might have a new name, but to her he wouldalways be Cai de Morgan, her lover, her husband.

Her breath caught as he pulledoff his shirt. By all that was holy, were she not already dead, she thoughtsurely she would die for the want of him. She stepped closer. His shoulderswere wide; his waist trim, his chest so smooth it almost gleamed in the lightof the candle on the dresser. As he undid the first button of his buffskin-tight breeches, she could see where the faint line of black hair traileddown to his—she cut off her thoughts as his hand stilled. His midnight blueeyes stared right through her into the shadowy darkness of the corner.

“Issomeone there?”

His deep rich voice was like finevelvet, the exact timbre of Cai’s. Her heart hurt. Although she knew it beat nomore, it was uncanny how she could still feel the emotions of the living. Shemoved to the window as he continued to undress.

She would not watch. She was novoyeur. She had seen enough to know he was Cai, her Cai, that he had come backto her, and that she could never touch him again. She swallowed the lump in herthroat and stared down into the courtyard. The place she had died. She heardthe whisper of cloth as his breeches hit the polished wooden floor, the rustleof bedclothes as he climbed into the four-poster. The bed she had shared withCai on their wedding night—where they had pledged their love for eternity. Andshe felt grateful when a moment later the darkness descended, as it always didwhen she had stayed too long in the place of the living.

** * *

2012-01-05T23:15:00.000-08:00

Hi, hope everyone had a lovely Christmas, or what ever holiday you may celebrate. I had my daughters and their partners with them, and my lovely man Philip, so I had a very busy but great Christmas!

Apart from that I don't know if you know, but I am also a potter,and studied art and design at a University in Australia. The dragon you see at the side is one of mine and is also an oil burner. One I made a couple of years ago.All my work is handmade, no molds involved and very intricate. I do not get as much time to dabble in my pottery now, but I do supply a small gallery not far from my home town in Wangaratta Australia, with some of my wares. Unfortunatly potty is not as popular as it used to be but I still sell enough to give me a bit of pocket money and cover my costs. My pottery is called Mythical Pots and I have been a potter for 30+years among other jobs.

I have had an interest in the fancyful and medievil since an early age, (I think I must have lived in the Middle Ages in another life:-) anyway these things have always steered me on the path I have taken. As you may know, I write Fantasy 50-50 romance adult fantasy books, with lots of good romance and I hope you will agree, great story lines with lots of twists and turns. I have never recieved anything lower than a 4 out of five for my books, and mostly 4 1/2 to 5 stars.

I have branched into Ghost another one of my favorite subjects; Vampire novels, and add touches of witch and time travel and re-incarnation to a lot of my novels as well.

I am proud to anounce my upcoming Ghost, witch, re-incarnation Novel, which starts in modern day, goes to 1600's, then 1800's then back to modern day, Whisper of Yesterday, will be out in March in ePrint and paperback in August. I did the cover myself, you can view it at the side of this page. Also the first book in my Tarlis series(all books can stand alone) title yet undecided, but it may be The Dragon and the Rose) will be out in April, with print in September.

Hope you will take a look at them as I will be posting excerpts very soon.

Just adding, I have been writing for 18years, and it has been my own choice to stay with the online publishers, as I think they do a fantastic job of covering genres, that NY and other top publishers would not be game enough to touch :-)

2011-12-17T16:52:00.000-08:00

Something special for the child in us all at Christmas.

2011-12-17T16:28:00.001-08:00

The winner of my Blog Hop competition is Elizabeth
:-)
she was the only one that left an forwarding address. Thank you to all that visited. I did take a look at your Blogs. Well done and very informative.
Julie

2011-12-16T19:10:00.000-08:00

I would like to anounuce that if anyone leave a Merry Christmas comment on my blog from 16th to 18th Dec. 2011. They will be put in the running for my 11,000word E-Print Novella. Beyond the Green Door. Cheers!

2011-11-29T17:12:00.001-08:00

Guest:- Jaydyn Chelcee

I would proudly like to announce that today I have on my blog the multi-published, popular author Jaydyn Chelcee. I will be hosting Jaydyn for the next 3 days, so I hope you will settle in and enjoy your time here.
*************************************************************************************************

Good Morning Readers,

First let me say, Thank You, to Julie for having me as her guest today. It’s always a pleasure to blog at her site.
I hope you’ll enjoy the excerpt from my upcoming novel, WILD, book five and the conclusion of the Montana Men Series. This novel is unavailable until late 2012. I hope to have the first four books in the series back on the market in early 2012 and released by Secret Cravings publishing. They’ll be longer, stronger, extended versions. Be sure to watch for them! http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/

Please leave a comment for a chance to win a free E-copy of Playing for Keeps, book four in the Montana Men series. I’ll drop your name in the cowboy hat and announce the winner tomorrow.

Until then,

Happy Reading!

Jaydyn Chelcee

BLURB

A wild gamble…uneven odds…an assassin’s bullet…
She’d do anything―The only witness to the first lady’s assassination, Jayla Ross is the next target. She flees to Montana to the one man she knows can keep her safe, and save the life of her unborn child―except, she’s the last person he’d ever agree to help…
He’d risk everything―Wild Remington spent five years in prison because of Ross’s lies, and now, with a bullet hole in her shoulder, she’s asking him for help―right in time to be trapped in the wilds of Montana in the middle of a blizzard…
Jayla and Wild―two people who have nothing left to lose and perhaps everything to gain…

EXCERPT

Sliding off the horse, he approached her from the driver’s side. “Hey, in there, you okay, lady?” he shouted. “Are you hurt?”
Crack!
His hat sailed through the air landing a few feet away. The mare reared and whinnied, frightened by the sudden gunshot. The reins slid from his gloved hands. The mare bolted like she’d been stung by a bee. Wild dropped to the ground, belly-crawling until he reached cover behind a large rock. “Sonofabitch, if she didn’t want help, then why did she yell for it?”
Leaning against the boulder, he looked around quickly to make sure the mare hadn’t left the country in terror. Nope. She’d stopped a few feet away. The horse was well trained, better trained than the loco female with the loaded gun poked out the driver’s side window taking potshots at him.
He peeped around the corner of the boulder. Hell, he’d had reporters charge him like a herd of stampeding cattle, but he’d never had one try to gun him down before. “Damn, fool woman!” he muttered.
She waved the pistol around above the top of the driver’s door like it was some kind of flag. “I’ve got a gun,” she yelled.
“No shit,” Wild mumbled, and ducked back down. He snatched his cowboy hat off the ground, cursing―his favorite, the cream-colored straw one with the black and white beaded band and bits of ostrich feathers on the back. He eyed it with disgust. The demon woman had put a bullet hole through the crown. What a pissy-ass day this had turned out to be.
He jammed the hat back in place, his jaw tightening with anger. He might want to kill himself, but be damned if someone else was doing the job for him. “Are you crazy, lady?” he shouted. “Don’t shoot! I’m here to help you.”
“Wild? Is that you?”
Puzzled, he rose slowly to his feet, his arms up in surrender. “Well, now, that all depends,” he drawled. “Who the hell are you gunning for?” He didn’t recognize the voice or the car. Wild side-stepped, edging around so he could approach the car from the rear and stay out of her range, or at least make it difficult for her to line him up in her sights. He walked closer, close enough to eye the plates. U.S. Government. D.C.
Nope, he figured he was seeing wrong. He hadn’t done anything lately to warrant the U.S. government to come gunning for him. No one in D.C. he knew wanted to talk to him bad enough to drive across the country during a pending blizzard either, his other brother, Duel, maybe, but him–the ex-con? Uh-uh. No one cared enough to spend a bullet on him. Whoever she was, she was a long way from home, and a tad bit cracked to boot.

You can find me at http://www.jaydynchelcee.com

Jaydyn Chelcee Bio:

Jaydyn Chelcee has spent most of her life in Oklahoma, but at the same time, she’s traveled extensively, at least in the western half of the United States. One of her favorite settings in her contemporary western romances is Montana. She’s the author of the best selling Montana Men Series, In the Arms of Danger, No Holds Barred, Too Close to the Fire, and Playing For Keeps.

A member of the Oklahoma Writer’s Federation, Inc., her paranormal romances, the Winslow Witches of Salem Series, written under Tabitha Shay have been nominated for several awards, including the prestigious P.E.A.R.L. Award for Witch’s Moon nominated for Best All Around Paranormal in 2008 and Witch’s Fire, Runner-up for Best Paranormal Book of 2010 at LRC.

Coming soon from Moongypsy Press: WILD, book five of the Montana Men Series.
Coming in Jan. 12, and Feb. 15, from Secret Cravings Publishing: Re-release of Witch’s Brew, and Witch’s Heart, books one and two of the Winslow Witches of Salem Series.

All current releases available at Amazon.com and:-

http://www.moongypsypress.com

http://www.secretcravingspublishing.com

http://www.tabithashay.com

http://www.jaydynchelcee.com

Email: jaydyn@jaydynchelcee.com

Thank you for your time spent here with us, Jaydyn, please feel free to come again and tell us about more of your upcoming books :-)

2011-11-18T18:45:00.001-08:00

My NEW EROTIC Romance NOVELLA "Beyond the Green Door" is now up and ready to buy at https://www.nobleromance.com/
Don't be shy, It still has lots of action and good storytelling, just a bit sexier. Only $3.00 for a download. All reader types available. Cheers Jewel D'Arcy
https://www.nobleromance.com/Books/361/Beyond-the-Green-Door

NEW RELEASE

2011-11-17T23:15:00.001-08:00

MY NEW RELESE "Beyond the Green Door will be released, 21st. November 2011.

you will find it at www.nobleromance.com

Read review at bottom of post-

5.0 out of 5 stars WOW ! MAY 5th. 2011

Gail (Nebraska, USA) -

This review is from: Beyond The Green Door

I really enjoyed this book! I started it and couldn't put it down. I haven't read this genre before, so it was a new adventure for me. I will definitely buy more of Jewel's books ;)

2011-11-17T22:52:00.001-08:00

I would like to announce that my Tarlis novel-fantasy romance, magic, adventure, action, sexy elves, and warriors, The Dragon and the Rose is under consideration by my new publisher, Secret Craving Publishing!

2011-11-13T17:24:00.000-08:00

I would just like to announce that Secret Cravings Publishing,(no it is not all Erotic Romance, in fact most is Genre Romance.) Will be publishing my Paranormal Ghost Historical, March 2012, in paperback, and all electronic formats!

2011-11-10T21:09:00.001-08:00

Janet Elizabeth Jones

Please Welcome my guest Blogger for today, my good friend, multi-published, talented author Janet Elizabeth Jones. Author with Harlequin. Janet will talking on time management, and giving away a signed copy of her paperback novel Incubus, if you leave a comment in the comment box below. And contact Janet through one of her many websites.

Thank you,Julie, for having me over today :D

I'm here toconfess something. It's my dreadful secret: I am clock and calendar challenged.Time-challenged. I'm sure I'm short of time. Isn't everyone? But worse thanthat, I tend not to notice whether I'm short of time or not, because to me,time feels like a sprawling, never-ending "now" to me.

It's oftencalled absentmindedness, but I think this might be a misnomer. It seems to methat if time is relative, then the observance of it--or lack of observance--istoo. The word "absentminded" suggests that a time-challenged person'smind is somewhere besides "here". As in, "WHERE is yourmind?!" I think it's more precise to say the time-challenged person's mindis always here--the here and now, the present moment--so much so, in fact, thattheir mind cannot be elsewhere, least of all the future.

Time managementsskills, the ability to prioritize--these concepts are not strangers to me, butI can't exactly call them happy guests in the oasis of work, coffee and chocolatethat I call "my day". (There's a bit more work than coffee, and morecoffee than chocolate.) I have been told it's a matter of focusing toointensely, rather than what one might suspect, that I'm waffling around with myhead in the clouds. (Which sounds lovely to me, by the way. Doesn't it soundnice to you? Just to blow around in the sky all day with nothing to worry aboutbut dodging 747s.)

It seems to besomething all time-challenged people share, this extreme focus that eclipseseverything but what their thoughts are nibbling on. I like to think it impliesa higher level of thinking skills, and when added to my shy, geeky nature (Ihave the language barrier to prove it), that it makes me look really smart. Butthe truth is, if you ask me what time it is, I'll look at my watch and tellyou, but it will mean absolutely nothing to me other than a description of whatMickey Mouse's big hand and little hand are pointing at.

To be kind totime-challenged folk everywhere, we could consider an underlying force at workhere: the acknowledgment that time is an artificial contrivance, sometimes aconvenience and at other times a curse. And to thank you for reading this far,I'll resist the urge to spew about the uncertain future of humankind in the pressure-cookersociety we live in where "The Best Never Rest" (makes a fittingepitaph) and "Time is Money" (then why aren't we all millionaires?)and "Spend your Time Wisely" (one person's wisdom is another person'sroot canal) and "Save Time" (but where do I put it once I do?) and"Kill Some Time" (for those of us with pacifist leanings, this is nota happy thought). I'm sure you can think of many more adages we're fond ofusing when we want to justify our existence in precise sixty-second segments.

So, to hit thetopic on the head (finally)--where does this leave the writer who istime-challenged? Readingis a leisure activity, you lucky readers; writing is a solitary, addictive,sweat-your-guts out adventure that's all about time and timing. Plot is a linearphenomenon that begins, proceeds through events whose graph would resemble aMohawk hairstyle, and comes to an end, after which one imagines the rest of the"happily ever after" that follows. It is all about time.

This reallycomes home to a writer when it's time to do book promotion--which is why I'mblogging about it today. It's all about "platform". We need to crow,strategize, tweet, poke, bounce, bomb, dig, follow, swallow, share, bare andall the other cyber-duties of social networking. So, here I am, thanks to Julie,to tell you about my Harlequin Nocturne entitled Incubus, a story about two people who measure time in heartbeats.(And you thought you'd get through this philosophical diatribe without a plugfor my book? Muahaahaahaa.)

Meical, a vampire-turned-incubus,wants to enjoy a single sunrise before he dies; Caroline, a psychologist andempath, wants one more day in her momentary haven in the Poconos before facingthe man who is hunting her.

How much timedoes it take for you to realize the chance of a lifetime is standing right infront of you? The chance of a lifetime, in the nick of time, when you'restanding at death's door. In that moment of realization, it becomes clear toyou that the only one who can save you is this person you met only hours ago, aperson you're sure you've known for a lifetime or more. This person, this onefragile heart out of millions, has somehow done the impossible, the thing younever believed could ever be: this person loves you. You. The secret you. Thesleepless, hunted you. The ragged, shadowy, angry, frightened you. All of youand only you.

And you havesixty seconds to reach for each other before you lose it all.

If you'd like toread Incubus, check out the buy-melinks below, or email me and I'll send you a free autographed paperback. (Iswear on my Mickey Mouse watch that I won't be evil and share your snail mailaddress with anyone, or enroll you in a year's supply of spam sandwiches, or doanything with it except send it straight into the shredder.)

And thank youagain, Julie :)

Janet

Romance for theNight Raven: www.janetejones.com

The Night RavenMuse: http://thenightravenmuse.blogspot.com/

The Night RavenEnclave: http://yhoo.it/TheNightRavenEnclave

Meical'sFacebook page: http://on.fb.me/Meical

Meical's email: MeicalGrabian[at]gmail[dot]com

Incubus isavailable for purchase at fine cyber-hangouts like these:

eHarlequin.com: http://bit.ly/vZAVSu

Amazon.com: http://amzn.to/hZMRj3

BN.com: http://bit.ly/fwY4je

"...aworld to escape to..." Siren's Best Book Stone, Sirens Book Reviews

"...aunique, sexy plot." RT Book Reviews

"...beautifullytold." Ecataromance

"Enjoythis tale well -- I know I did." CoffeeTime Romance Reviews

====

link to cover pic: http://www.janetejones.com/images/Incubus_Cover_200.jpg

link to Meical's pic: http://www.janetejones.com/images/MeicalGrabian_headshot.png

INCUBUS by Janet Elizabeth Jones

Harlequin Nocturne (Jan 2011)

Tagline:

How do you overcome the mistrust of an empath running forher life?

One night at a time.

Blurb:

Havingstruck a deadly bargain with the ancient vampire known as the Alchemist, MeicalGrabian submits to the Alchemist's experimentation and allows himself to betransformed from vampire to incubus. In return, Meical gains the one thing hehas longed for in his dark existence: the chance to feel the sun on his face.As an incubus, he will be impervious to sunlight--the downside is that he won'tsurvive the transformation for more than a few hours, unless he gets a quickdose of human passion to sustain him.

When theAlchemist provides him with his first prey, it all seems simple. Right on cue,psychologist Caroline Bengal rescues Meical from a snowy field in the Poconosand takes him into the warmth of her cabin. But in spite of his desperation andmercenary hunger, Meical finds himself beguiled by her inner beauty andempathic abilities and drawn to Caroline as he has never felt drawn to a humanbefore. When he finds out another kind of monster is stalking her, one just ascunning and dangerous as any vampire, he realizes he wants to protect her foras long as he has left to live, even if it means hiding his true nature fromher by creating the world of her dreams--a world where he can heal andstrengthen her with his love.

Excerpt:

She went tothe wardrobe. It was empty. "I seemed not to have dreamed up any clothingfor myself. That's not fair. You're wearing clothes."

"Ilike what you're wearing."

She turnedslowly from the wardrobe and leveled her gaze on him. "I don't usuallydream for two, okay? I don't know why I'm...dreaming like this..."

He lookeddown at himself as though he hadn't heard her. "You seem to have cast mein the role of a--"

"Rogue,"she gulped.

He smiled."That's a quaint word for it."

Great. Thatwas all she needed. Meical the Gothic Villain-Hero. What was she doing toherself?

"Well,let's see how far my imagination has gotten carried away this time."

With a sighof exasperation, Caroline marched to the door of the chamber. It opened of itsown accord before she reached for the latch. That had never happened in herdreams before.

Beyond wasa larger room, with a fireplace that took up one whole wall and a fire thatburned so high and bright that it could have been consuming a small hut.

She hadnever dreamed about this large chamber before. Maybe if she kept pushing theconfines of her imagination, she'd wake herself up. Lucid dreams were likethat. Once you were aware that you were dreaming, you could change the dream.

She tookone or two tentative steps into the big room. Looking over her shoulder, shefound Meical following close behind, with his hands behind his back and a smileon his face.

There.There was that knowing look in his eyes again.

The bigchamber was warm and bright and beautiful, with more tapestries and rugs andbits of armor on the walls. The swords gleamed in the firelight.

"Sweet,"she murmured.

"Lotsof toys."

Shefollowed his gaze to the swords. "You like those, huh?"

"Apparentlyyou do, too, or they wouldn't be here." He looked down at her and smiled."A girl after my own heart."

He pushedpast her to stride across the room, took a rapier off the wall, and tested itsweight in his hand. "Lovely."

He was sobeautiful. Caroline's face flushed hot again. She wished he really was here,rather than being a tease from her subconscious. She chuckled, and he glancedher way.

"Do Ilook that ridiculous?" he asked, grinning.

She shookher head. "No, you look phenomenal. Like you belong here."

He quirkeda brow at her. "REALLY? I look like I belong in your dreams?"

"Uhmmm...herein this..." She waved a hand around at the room. "...this kindof...whatever."

"Ah.Well, whatever you've cut me out to be while I'm here, Caroline, I likeit."

He slicedthe air with the sword a couple of times, and then settled into what lookedlike some kind of drill or exercise, a series of movements that seemed way tooauthentic for anything she could come up with in a dream. She must have storeda lot more info from her reading than she realized, because he looked like heknew what he was doing.

Carolineleaned against the wall and watched him. When was the last time Meical Grabianhad had any fun? She had an impish urge to indulge his enjoyment of this place.Why shouldn't she?

An ideaformed in her mind. It was pure nonsense, but who cared? It wasn't like any ofthis was real.

Carolineturned and eyed the row of swords above her head. She reached for one thatlooked like Meical's. The instant her hand closed over the hilt, it felt rightand real and familiar to her.

"Cool,"she murmured. "I can do this. Amazing."

She eyedher golden-haired opponent, who was making a show of himself on the other sideof the room, hitched up the folds of her voluminous nightie and approached him.

"Ifyou want to play, Meical, let's do it right."

She amazedherself by giving him a perfect salute. She raised her blade to her nose andsnapped it down with a flick that made a satisfying whooshing sound.

Meical'seyes widened for a second, and then he emitted a low, dastardly, thrillinglaugh. "You're on. What shall we play for?"

Carolinefollowed him into the center of the room where they had more room. "Justto win, I guess."

He shookhis head. "Come on, we have to have a bet."

She watchedhim shove his hand in the pocket of his breeches, wiggle his fingers around,and dig out a leather lace. He looked at it and smiled. "Accommodating ofyou."

"Yes,well, the human mind is a remarkable thing. What's it for?"

He winkedat her, set his sword aside on a nearby table, and used the tether to tie hishair back in a ponytail. Plucking up his weapon, he started toward her with agleam in his eye.

Carolinelifted a hand to hold him off. "Wait. How will we know who wins?"

He laughedagain, with relish convincing enough to give her a chill. "I suspect we'llknow when the moment comes."

"Whoa.I don't want to hurt you."

Meicalturned his head aside and coughed loudly. When he looked at her again, his eyeswere twinkling with laughter. "I don't think that's possible, is it? Imean, if all this is merely a dream, what's the worst thing that can happen? Ifyou feel pain, won't you just wake up?"

It wasfunny that Meical thought the worst thing that could happen was that she wouldwake up.

But ofcourse, that was just her putting words in his mouth. All of this was herdoing, all of it her, talking to...herself? To her fears? It was all symbolicof larger issues, and she was actually about to battle something inside her ona psychological level, and whatever it represented, she had put it in the guiseof Meical and turned the whole thing into some kind of enticing competitionbetween the two of them.

Why swords?

Well, shecould have a field day with that one, but Meical was getting impatient, as ifhe didn't have time to waste while she sorted out her psychologicalwherewithal.

"Allright," she said, "if I win, I want..."

It came toher as though someone whispered it in her ear. What she wanted was Meical. Inher life. For real.

Thesedreams were just her unconscious mind's attempt to invent a safe place for herto admit this to herself. They gave her a buffer zone where she could feel itwas okay to really, really want this man, regardless of what she'd been throughand what she might face in the future.

Not that itcould happen.

"Doyou know what you want, Caroline?" he asked her.

He was asserious as death, suddenly. His gaze probed hers until she had to look at thefloor, his booted feet, his exquisite legs.

"Yes,I know. But..."

"It'sonly a dream," he murmured. "It's all right to want anything here.Isn't it?"

Carolineraised her blade and struck an en garde position. "Maybe I'll keep it asecret until I win."

He gave ahalf-bow and then assumed a deadly pose of his own, as if he'd run her throughif she gave him half a chance.

Thrilling.

"Youhaven't said what you want, if you win," she said. "Not that youwill, because that would mean you were in charge of this dream, and sincethat's impossible--"

"You,Caroline. I want you."

Good grief,he was terrifying. Her voice came out in a squeak. "That's kind ofredundant, don't you think? You had me in the last dream."

He smiledlike a satyr. "No, dearheart, you had me."

Thank you for joining me here today Janet!

2011-11-09T20:27:00.000-08:00

I would just like to announce that I have the new cover to my latest release, Beyond the Green Door.

2011-10-29T23:58:00.000-07:00

Janet Elizabeth Jones

Harlequin author---

Hi, Julie! I would love to be a guest on your blog in a couple of weeks. We will make a date.

For giveaways, I have paperbacks of my Harlequin book Incubus. I could send some of those, if readers are comfortable giving their snail mail address. I've been thinking of having some promotional gift items at Zazzle, like mousepads and keychains and things like that made up.That could be an idea ;-)

2011-10-29T23:24:00.000-07:00

EARLY REVIEW

5.0 out of 5 stars WOW ! MAY 5th. 2011

Gail (Nebraska, USA) -

This review is from: Beyond The Green Door

I really enjoyed this book! I started it and couldn't put it down. I haven't read this genre before, so it was a new adventure for me. I will definitely buy more of Jewel's books ;)

2011-10-29T22:56:00.001-07:00

About the Green Door

TO be released by Noble Romance Publishing LLC, 17th November 2011.

BEYOND THE GREEN DOOR

by JEWEL D'ARCY is where Urban Fantasy, Steam Punk Erotica, meets, re-incarnation with a twist of magic and those sexy little bits everyone loves.

Can the impossible really become possible? Or is it all just a whisper in the wind?

Sherry's world falls to pieces when the honeymoon she had planned in Rio with her fiancée turns to a tragedy with his death in a plane crash. Can a twist of fate, a wrong turn and a touch of magic find the love and passion she thought she had lost in the arms of another? Or will her love once again be torn apart? Can a wish really turn back time?

2011-10-28T22:06:00.000-07:00

2011-10-25T23:52:00.000-07:00

Wow
I just found out I had another blog on here I do not even remember opening, but here it is.
you can also find me at
www.julieadarcy.com
Well I am doing somthing I said I would never do, I am writing and actually getting published in Erotic Romance.
I have just signed a contract with Noble Romance Publishing, who I must say a very professional and well organized.
My new novella 10,000+ will be available on several types of e-readers.
The story is called Beyond the Green Door. If you have heard the title it is probably mine. The story was released about 8 years or longer ago in an anthology by Mundania Press. All rites returned of course, when the book went out of print.
It has had a revamp edit and 2 new scenes added to spice it up. But as Erotic Romance seems to be one of the only things selling at the moment except horror, I think I will stick with what I know.
My style of writing will not change, just become a bit hotter.Ooch! Just burnt myself :-)

2010-01-08T16:36:00.000-08:00