The Quuen mary served in WW2 as a transport ship bringing American soldiers to England. Nicknamed the gray ghost because of her color, she remained unsinkable. Hitler offered his highest medal of honor to anyone who could sink her.
En route to England, it is said the ship rammed into another ship while avoiding an enemy vessel. The other ship was ripped apart leaving 300 sailors to drown or be eaten by sharks. Rumors of pounding on the side of the queen is made by those trying to get on board.
During the war it is claimed a cook died in one of the ovens, allegedly, the crew didn't like his culinary skills.A seaman was crushed to death in engine room 13 while trying to flee a fire. It is said the door to the room is often hot to the touch, while bright lights and knocks can be heard within the chamber.
There are 49 deaths related to the ship. One haunt is a child in the swimming pool. People have claimed to hear splashing sounds and seeing a child's footprints on the pavement. Others have seen a lady in blue and a woman in white strolling near the pool. One little girl broke her neck and died after trying to slide down the bannister.
Psychic researchers have proclaimed the pool are to be a vortex, a gateway between worlds. Ghosts who haven't died on the ship use this vortex, the researchers claim.
Today there are ghost tours on the Queen Mary. Employees claim to hear voices or footsteps behind them as they make their way through the ship. Still, the most haunted are those men who survived the war and made their way back to America with fewer comrades than they left with.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Merry Christmas to All
In this Holiday Season, I wish you love, joy and contentment - and may even one of your most secret dreams come true.
Patsy
P.L. Parker
www.plparker.com
Patsy
P.L. Parker
www.plparker.com
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Stephen King: what the master of horror teaches about romance
I got busted reading "Carrie" in science class. I trembled with the thought of surviving a pandemic with "The Stand."
Stephen King: A romantic hero? Maybe atypical but absolutely! Let’s look at why:
Stephen knows loss. He grew up with an absentee father and a mother who took charge, a woman who made her living working hard and caring for her sons. She tended to her children's mental and spiritual health as well as caring for her extended family. A woman who provided an inspiration of strength for those who knew her. She died far too young. A loss a young man shouldn't have to face, but her strength was passed on to her children. instead of blaming the fates, they carried on. His modest background gave him sensitivity to the working class and some vital insight about the human condition.
Stephen went to college He worked his way through school as a janitor.
It was in college Stephen met Tabitha. As writers they connected.He admired her for her intelligence and creativity, as she is a writer as well. It was Tabitha who rescued "Carrie" from the trash and demanded her husband finish the manuscript. He was smart enough to listen to his wife, and finished the work. He has loved and dedicated his life to his lady, Tabitha, his college sweetheart. Together they’ve faced and overcome his drug addiction and the physical challenges that came from a severe motor vehicle accident.
He has been a father to his children for the long haul.
He has overcome personal tragedy and offered support to budding authors with his "On writing" book.He fought a drug addiction during his marriage. It takes courage to admit you have a problem and to ask for help. It is even more courageous to make private pain public so others can be inspired to seek help too, even though doing this gives the mean spirited an easy target.
Stephen was given another horrific challenge when he was hit by a car.
Months in physical therapy allowed him to walk again, but the steps were slow, a grueling struggle to heal. Despite the damage to his body Stephen didn’t fall into despair. The self is the greatest enemy, the love of his family his greatest asset. Tabitha was with him every step of the way, no matter how trying.
Horror is all around us. We see the evils humans do; it drags us into emotional mire. Hearing the news is enough to make us want to hide under our beds or just get through the day so we can make it back to the sanctuary of our homes. Through it all love makes it bearable, infusing us with the power to look evil in its face and claim victory. The master of horror, by his own strength and perseverance is the model of a true hero.
Stephen King: A romantic hero? Maybe atypical but absolutely! Let’s look at why:
Stephen knows loss. He grew up with an absentee father and a mother who took charge, a woman who made her living working hard and caring for her sons. She tended to her children's mental and spiritual health as well as caring for her extended family. A woman who provided an inspiration of strength for those who knew her. She died far too young. A loss a young man shouldn't have to face, but her strength was passed on to her children. instead of blaming the fates, they carried on. His modest background gave him sensitivity to the working class and some vital insight about the human condition.
Stephen went to college He worked his way through school as a janitor.
It was in college Stephen met Tabitha. As writers they connected.He admired her for her intelligence and creativity, as she is a writer as well. It was Tabitha who rescued "Carrie" from the trash and demanded her husband finish the manuscript. He was smart enough to listen to his wife, and finished the work. He has loved and dedicated his life to his lady, Tabitha, his college sweetheart. Together they’ve faced and overcome his drug addiction and the physical challenges that came from a severe motor vehicle accident.
He has been a father to his children for the long haul.
He has overcome personal tragedy and offered support to budding authors with his "On writing" book.He fought a drug addiction during his marriage. It takes courage to admit you have a problem and to ask for help. It is even more courageous to make private pain public so others can be inspired to seek help too, even though doing this gives the mean spirited an easy target.
Stephen was given another horrific challenge when he was hit by a car.
Months in physical therapy allowed him to walk again, but the steps were slow, a grueling struggle to heal. Despite the damage to his body Stephen didn’t fall into despair. The self is the greatest enemy, the love of his family his greatest asset. Tabitha was with him every step of the way, no matter how trying.
Horror is all around us. We see the evils humans do; it drags us into emotional mire. Hearing the news is enough to make us want to hide under our beds or just get through the day so we can make it back to the sanctuary of our homes. Through it all love makes it bearable, infusing us with the power to look evil in its face and claim victory. The master of horror, by his own strength and perseverance is the model of a true hero.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
More Online Promotion
Last month I participated in an interview on Blog Talk Radio. I was very nervous and there were technical difficulties. So it was nerve-wracking. The authors ended up calling in on the phone to have their interviews. I'd do it again as a group event. I'm not sure I'm ready for a single person interview. I've never been a good presenter. You can listen to the two hour event here.
My October release Healer's Fate from Whispers Publishing has a new book trailer.
You can read the complete first chapter in this Infinite Worlds of Fantasy Sampler.
My October release Healer's Fate from Whispers Publishing has a new book trailer.
You can read the complete first chapter in this Infinite Worlds of Fantasy Sampler.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Creatures of the Night - Amazon Chart Rush and Interview
On November 14, 2009, I'll be on Blog Talk Radio with my fellow authors in the Creatures of the Night flash fiction anthology. From 12pm ET to 7pm ET we are trying to raise awareness and sales of the anthology at Amazon.com.
Check out this blog entry for all the details.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Do you love Time Travel?
Of course you do. Who doesn't? Do you remember the first historical romance you ever picked up? Do you remember thinking how wonderful it would have been to be the heroine wearing long flowing dresses and having chivalrous men falling all over you? It sounds wonderful, lovely and positively romantic.
But what if it happened? What if an innocent trip to a Renaissance Fair ended in a not so quick trip to the past? How would you really feel about leaving everything you know, everything you love?
Duncan MacCoinnich's task...
Travel to the twenty-first century Renaissance Faire, deflower the Druid virgins, and go home. Only his job is not so easily accomplished with the virgin in question, Tara McAllister. Time is running out. The evil is closing in on them both.
Tara finds Duncan irresistible after what was supposed to be a mock Hand-fasting binds them.
When Duncan whisks her to his home in Scotland she could accept that. But, can she forgive him for taking away her modern life when she finds herself in the sixteenth century?
And is it love they feel? Or something else?
Excerpt of Binding Vows~Book One of the MacCoinnich Trilogy
“A lady is not safe out here by herself.”
She stopped again. This time he didn’t stop in time and fell into her.
Hands at her sides, her chest thrust up next to his, she gritted the words between her teeth. “A lady isn’t safe around you, either.”
“Now, Tara.” He tried pleading with her.
“Oh, don’t you even, ‘now, Tara’ me.” She stepped to the side and started off in a different direction. Walking in circles.
He let her walk for several minutes before attempting to talk to her again. “I would be happy to escort you on a walk, but we need to get you more properly dressed.” He knew the effect watching her walk was having on him. He could only imagine what his men must have thought when she had stormed the courtyard in her shorts.
“You’re a bastard, you know that, MacCoinnich?”
He wanted to counter what she said but cautioned himself against it. “Still, we need you in more fitting clothes. If someone were to come along, questions would be raised which would be most difficult to answer.”
“You should have thought of that before you brought me here.” She waved a hand in his general direction. “Right now I don’t give a crap what questions you might have to answer.”
“I told you how necessary it is for secrecy.” He turned to the Keep and noticed some of the men watching to see what would happen. He needed to put a stop to this and soon.
“Bite me.”
A completely inappropriate image of him doing exactly that popped in his head. A slow lazy smile inched over his lips.
Unfortunately for him, Tara read his thoughts.
Available Now In Print from The Wild Rose Press Click HERE for details.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
The legend of Old Hitler
In Tampa bay, lives a hammerhead shark. 20 feet long and has a head as wide as a pick up truck, nearing 1000 pounds, the shark has been spotted, but never caught by citizens of Tampa bay for decades. His legend has lived on since the 60's.
One story has it that fisherman caught a baby hammerhead while tarpon hunting. It was too small to keep so they decided to release it. Before release, a fisherman painted a swastika on its back before tossing it into the water.
The fish, and the story grew. In the sixties, a fisherman reported the sight of a 20 foot shark, its fin bigger than the boat motor, it swam next to the boat, tilting its head to watch the fisherman on deck.
"It broke a 400-pound braided wire leader right under the bait house," reported one fisherman. "That is a big boy," says another fisherman. "He's bigger and badder than jaws." Came reports from fisherman around the bay.
One man claimed to have caught Old Hitler and buried him without ceremenony, though years later, sightings still occur.
The giant shark has been sited for decades, even now, people from fisherman to bridge workers claim to have seen its eerie shadow gliding across Tampa Bay. Eager shark fisherman have sought to capture the huge creature.
Old Hitler has been said to chomp a giant ray or Tarpon in one bite, but has he ever hurt boaters or swimmers? There have been many suicide attempts, folks jumping off the skyway bridge into Tampa Bay, but no one ever reported being bothered by sharks in the water.
I lived around Tampa Bay most of my life and I have never heard of anyone being attacked by a shark in Tampa Bay. I have seen and heard tales of dolphins. I have this to add to the tale.
Could it be that a newly released baby shark bearing the symbol of Ameirca's enemy has indeed ruled the waters of Tampa Bay, but instead of a vicious man eater, he bears the old symbol of hatred while living its original meaning.
The swastika is an ancient symbol of peace. Used by the Vikings, the Navajo's and also found in India. Old Hitler swims among the school of dolphin in peaceful co-existence. Is this a lesson from nature that peace is indeed possible, or is it that a few drunk fisherman saw a really big shark?
One story has it that fisherman caught a baby hammerhead while tarpon hunting. It was too small to keep so they decided to release it. Before release, a fisherman painted a swastika on its back before tossing it into the water.
The fish, and the story grew. In the sixties, a fisherman reported the sight of a 20 foot shark, its fin bigger than the boat motor, it swam next to the boat, tilting its head to watch the fisherman on deck.
"It broke a 400-pound braided wire leader right under the bait house," reported one fisherman. "That is a big boy," says another fisherman. "He's bigger and badder than jaws." Came reports from fisherman around the bay.
One man claimed to have caught Old Hitler and buried him without ceremenony, though years later, sightings still occur.
The giant shark has been sited for decades, even now, people from fisherman to bridge workers claim to have seen its eerie shadow gliding across Tampa Bay. Eager shark fisherman have sought to capture the huge creature.
Old Hitler has been said to chomp a giant ray or Tarpon in one bite, but has he ever hurt boaters or swimmers? There have been many suicide attempts, folks jumping off the skyway bridge into Tampa Bay, but no one ever reported being bothered by sharks in the water.
I lived around Tampa Bay most of my life and I have never heard of anyone being attacked by a shark in Tampa Bay. I have seen and heard tales of dolphins. I have this to add to the tale.
Could it be that a newly released baby shark bearing the symbol of Ameirca's enemy has indeed ruled the waters of Tampa Bay, but instead of a vicious man eater, he bears the old symbol of hatred while living its original meaning.
The swastika is an ancient symbol of peace. Used by the Vikings, the Navajo's and also found in India. Old Hitler swims among the school of dolphin in peaceful co-existence. Is this a lesson from nature that peace is indeed possible, or is it that a few drunk fisherman saw a really big shark?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monsters
Suspension of disbelief:
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Watching "Dawn of the dead" with my patient is making me think of how the suspension of disbelief is important to the one experiencing the story.
Having been in nurisng for 25 years sispension is a bit harder when dealing with horror films.
First, let's look at zombies.
I believe the genre was inspired by a bored office worker's quest for coffee. The zombies enthusiasm for brains has been the single woman's deepest desire afer the afterglow wears off. j'Brains. Brains? How to find a man who has one?"
In "Dead Snow'" the zombies are Nazi's fallen in battle. The suckers are fast-very well coordinated- cosidering rigor mortis set in 60 years ago and they are frozen in ice.
I had to laugh at one zombie flick whan a chaacter pointed to the lumbering monster and screamed. '"It's a zombie, run!"
"Why?" the hero responsded knowing he had plenty of time to escape.
Sorry, but the bowels release upon death, one would smell a zombie before seeing it.
As monsters go, zombies are the wall flowers, yet the cult classics live on with parodies, satire, and attempts to make them more interesting by ingnoring the biological and throwning n some dark humor.
"Send more paramedics," says one zombie over the radio after the formers EMT's were chomped.
Werewolves:
My favorite monsters.
These characters stay truest to the classics I grew up with. Tortured souls under a curse, werewolves hope for release from the bloodlust overtaking them during a full moon.
A writer has the most room with our fuzzy friends becasue they are just folks most of the time. like any ohter life condition, lycanthropy will affect different people different ways. Werewolves generally have the intelligence to seperate themselves from people during a full moon.
I had th scoff at Remus Lupin, Hogwarts teacher. When protecting Harry Potter he forgot about both the moon and the potion (it kept him sane during the change) and ran off in his desperation to keep the boy safe. Wouldn't this be more motivation to take the potion early?
I never got an explanation for the werewolves who turn all wolf versus the wolf man versus the monstrous wolf like creature portrayed in some movies.
In my opinion, "Brothers Grimm" portrayed best the way I see them.
I can more esily suspend my disbelief with the author because whether a curse, dark spell, or ancient ritual, the werewolf can get past my nursing barometer via the use of magic or ritual.
I like the wolf like atributes.
I can see a werewolf being loyal, family/pack oriented and protective. As a result, I have a probelm with them being promiscuous, wolves do mate for life. A point well played by Jack Nicholson in "Wolf".
When he caught his wife cheating she told him "It meant nothing" the werewolf responded with something like "Its supposed to make me feel better that you threw away our marriage over nothing?"
Perfect.
Vampires:
They are almost over done.
My inner nurse has to wonder what women find sexy aobut something cold and dead sucking thier neck.
Eww...
can you say necrophilia?
I notice the crosses and holy water are gone from the stories now..
The symbols of good no longer are mentioned. As with zombies, Vamps have no reason to be coordinated and agile as they are. Intelligent I can accept. When you're 200 you should know something.
Sorry ladies.
Vamps got no blood circulation. They wouldn't be able to have an erection.
No Blood. No party.
(werewolves dont' have this problem)
Why would you want to cuddle something room temp at best?
Dead things are cold, they probably clean up, but the vamps would have a dead smell too.
"Blade" had an interesting idea using Calcium Caltrate as a means of starving vampires to death. (it makes blood clot).
I finally watched "Twilight" not too bad though vampires in the day light bugs me as a purist-hence Washington's constant cloud cover, I suppose.
Other things are logical. They don't eat, use the bathroom, and they have loyalty to the clan. Wasn't wild about the diamond skin. Sun makes vamps didintegrate-maybe Cullen's quest to be harmless allows the day trips?
Big plot hole:
Bella's (heroine) scent drives him (Edward, vamp boy) wlid, even at a distance.
He tells her its like a heroin addiction, so what happens when she menstruates?
A group of women spending lots of time together will frequently cycle around the same time. Vampires in a high school would lead to a blood bath.
It's YA so its nice to keep the ick factor down. I like Edward's manners and compassion so suspend (the disbelief) I do.
He calls himslef a monster and fights to control himself while being respectful of Bella. Girls need to see that, but I look forwared to more Jacob. The kind hearted and loyal werewolf who lives on a reservation with his pack.
He can apparently change form at will which makes him more shapeshifter than werewolf, but I look forward to seeing what the author does with his pack.
A werewolf is evenly matched against a vampire. The "underworld" movies where werwolves are vampy pets.
give me a break!
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Watching "Dawn of the dead" with my patient is making me think of how the suspension of disbelief is important to the one experiencing the story.
Having been in nurisng for 25 years sispension is a bit harder when dealing with horror films.
First, let's look at zombies.
I believe the genre was inspired by a bored office worker's quest for coffee. The zombies enthusiasm for brains has been the single woman's deepest desire afer the afterglow wears off. j'Brains. Brains? How to find a man who has one?"
In "Dead Snow'" the zombies are Nazi's fallen in battle. The suckers are fast-very well coordinated- cosidering rigor mortis set in 60 years ago and they are frozen in ice.
I had to laugh at one zombie flick whan a chaacter pointed to the lumbering monster and screamed. '"It's a zombie, run!"
"Why?" the hero responsded knowing he had plenty of time to escape.
Sorry, but the bowels release upon death, one would smell a zombie before seeing it.
As monsters go, zombies are the wall flowers, yet the cult classics live on with parodies, satire, and attempts to make them more interesting by ingnoring the biological and throwning n some dark humor.
"Send more paramedics," says one zombie over the radio after the formers EMT's were chomped.
Werewolves:
My favorite monsters.
These characters stay truest to the classics I grew up with. Tortured souls under a curse, werewolves hope for release from the bloodlust overtaking them during a full moon.
A writer has the most room with our fuzzy friends becasue they are just folks most of the time. like any ohter life condition, lycanthropy will affect different people different ways. Werewolves generally have the intelligence to seperate themselves from people during a full moon.
I had th scoff at Remus Lupin, Hogwarts teacher. When protecting Harry Potter he forgot about both the moon and the potion (it kept him sane during the change) and ran off in his desperation to keep the boy safe. Wouldn't this be more motivation to take the potion early?
I never got an explanation for the werewolves who turn all wolf versus the wolf man versus the monstrous wolf like creature portrayed in some movies.
In my opinion, "Brothers Grimm" portrayed best the way I see them.
I can more esily suspend my disbelief with the author because whether a curse, dark spell, or ancient ritual, the werewolf can get past my nursing barometer via the use of magic or ritual.
I like the wolf like atributes.
I can see a werewolf being loyal, family/pack oriented and protective. As a result, I have a probelm with them being promiscuous, wolves do mate for life. A point well played by Jack Nicholson in "Wolf".
When he caught his wife cheating she told him "It meant nothing" the werewolf responded with something like "Its supposed to make me feel better that you threw away our marriage over nothing?"
Perfect.
Vampires:
They are almost over done.
My inner nurse has to wonder what women find sexy aobut something cold and dead sucking thier neck.
Eww...
can you say necrophilia?
I notice the crosses and holy water are gone from the stories now..
The symbols of good no longer are mentioned. As with zombies, Vamps have no reason to be coordinated and agile as they are. Intelligent I can accept. When you're 200 you should know something.
Sorry ladies.
Vamps got no blood circulation. They wouldn't be able to have an erection.
No Blood. No party.
(werewolves dont' have this problem)
Why would you want to cuddle something room temp at best?
Dead things are cold, they probably clean up, but the vamps would have a dead smell too.
"Blade" had an interesting idea using Calcium Caltrate as a means of starving vampires to death. (it makes blood clot).
I finally watched "Twilight" not too bad though vampires in the day light bugs me as a purist-hence Washington's constant cloud cover, I suppose.
Other things are logical. They don't eat, use the bathroom, and they have loyalty to the clan. Wasn't wild about the diamond skin. Sun makes vamps didintegrate-maybe Cullen's quest to be harmless allows the day trips?
Big plot hole:
Bella's (heroine) scent drives him (Edward, vamp boy) wlid, even at a distance.
He tells her its like a heroin addiction, so what happens when she menstruates?
A group of women spending lots of time together will frequently cycle around the same time. Vampires in a high school would lead to a blood bath.
It's YA so its nice to keep the ick factor down. I like Edward's manners and compassion so suspend (the disbelief) I do.
He calls himslef a monster and fights to control himself while being respectful of Bella. Girls need to see that, but I look forwared to more Jacob. The kind hearted and loyal werewolf who lives on a reservation with his pack.
He can apparently change form at will which makes him more shapeshifter than werewolf, but I look forward to seeing what the author does with his pack.
A werewolf is evenly matched against a vampire. The "underworld" movies where werwolves are vampy pets.
give me a break!
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Flames On The Sky is Out in Print/Contest
Flames On The Sky, a time travel romance, in print format is an Early Bird Special at The Wild Rose Press. The evil spirt in the story makes it a perfect story for Halloween. The ebook will be out October 23, 2009. I hope you'll take a look.
The Anasazi whispered of this evil and of thewoman who could defeat it.
Fire, sky, and stone must unite to fulfill an ancient prophecy.
Blurb:
Blurb:
Madison Evans inherits a turquoise locket, travels to New Mexico, and discovers the stone dates back to the Chacoan Anasazi. When she's attacked, parks ranger Lonan Stone, of Chacoan ancestry, fears Madison's turquoise is a missing twin of the revered Fallen Skystone, an egg size piece of turquoise on display in Albuquerque. The mystical stone is missing two slivers – one’s in Madison’s necklace, the others whereabouts unknown, but if united by evil they can destroy.
Madison and Lonan are part of a 1000 year old prophecy to save Chaco Canyon. Thrust back in time, they meet a witch, solve a murder, fall in love, and imprison a 1000 year old evil spirit. Their mission complete, can these two people from different cultures blend their lives as the prophecy predicted?
Excerpt:
Madison felt as if she’d traveled to the Twilight Zone. Lilly’s claims were preposterous, but, she couldn’t deny what she’d seen on the cliff face or the dreams.
“Yes, you need to tell me about the dreams. They started at the time you received the necklace, right?”
Madison nodded. “How did you know?”
“I assumed the ancient Elders would haunt you, but when Lonan called yesterday, I knew so for a fact.” Her smile was sympathetic. “Tell me about them.”
Lilly’s eyes lit with excitement as Madison talked. When she finished, the older woman leaned back and closed her eyes.
Lonan’s brow was furrowed, his mouth pinched. “What did you mean when you said, ‘You are the one.’?”
She pierced him with an intent look. “Did not Madison say you were the very image of the warrior in her dream? The prophecy requires that someone from the past, which is you, son, be chosen to be Madison’s protector.” Lilly turned to Madison.
Oh, no. I don’t think I want to hear this. She held up her hands and shook her head. “No—”
“Yes, Madison, with hair of fire, whether you like it or not, the Gods chose you, someone from the future, to find the third stone and reunite the twins with the mother stone. Together, you two will find a way to consign the evil one to the pit below mother earth where he belongs.”
You can buy your print copy at The Wild Rose Press.
In celebration of the release of Flames On The Sky I'm giving away a pair of amber and sterling earrings. For details go to my blog Linda LaRoque's Musings.
Thanks for Reading!
Linda
Linda LaRoque ~Western Romance with a Twist in Time~ Forever Faithful, Investment of the Heart, When the Ocotillo Bloom, A Law of Her Own, Desires of the Heart, My Heart Will Find Yours, Flames on the Sky10-9 www.lindalaroque.com/ http://wwww.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com/
Friday, October 2, 2009
Released Today - Healer's Fate
What a way to start off the month of October. My wolf shifter paranormal novella - Healer's Fate - released today from Whispers Publishing. Here's a first look at my hero Liam:
Healer's Fate Excerpt:
Liam couldn’t watch the ceremony that would mate Corliss to someone else. He could’ve challenged for her, but that meant fighting his father—the ruling wolf, who was neither a tyrant nor senile. Both of them in their prime, a fight would have ended in one of their deaths, and he couldn’t justify the loss of life.
Not even for her. Unable to keep control of his wolf, Liam let the animal free to seek solace in the forest. Except every tree, every scent roused memories of her, and the wolf circled back towards the clearing, towards the woman who should be his.
Stark quiet alerted him to trouble as the wolf crept along the edge of the grass. People were missing and those who remained stood as if waiting for the ceremony to start. He circled around to the front to get a better view, hiding in the shadows so as not to alert anyone. Raymond was unaccounted for. Corliss stood stiff-backed, facing away from the audience.
Her caramel-colored hair was piled atop her head, darkened to walnut in the moonlight. Shadows hid her sea-green eyes and emphasized her high cheekbones. She appeared cold, harsh, and removed from events going on around her. Yet he knew her to be warm and caring, often too caring.
Giving to others more of her personal energy through her healing powers than she should. As her friend, he could offer support, but he couldn’t push too hard for her to rest, or she’d rip out his throat.
He chuffed. The dark blue specks in her eyes glowed when she was angry. That spark had been missing from her eyes for days. He repressed a growl as Corliss bit the inside of her cheek. Before the wind shifted, he backed away. She wouldn’t appreciate someone seeing her close to tears.
The wolf wanted to rip a hole in Raymond’s belly, but even the animals had rules for a challenge. He trotted to a cache of clothes. Only the man could help her now.
Healer's Fate Excerpt:
Liam couldn’t watch the ceremony that would mate Corliss to someone else. He could’ve challenged for her, but that meant fighting his father—the ruling wolf, who was neither a tyrant nor senile. Both of them in their prime, a fight would have ended in one of their deaths, and he couldn’t justify the loss of life.
Not even for her. Unable to keep control of his wolf, Liam let the animal free to seek solace in the forest. Except every tree, every scent roused memories of her, and the wolf circled back towards the clearing, towards the woman who should be his.
Stark quiet alerted him to trouble as the wolf crept along the edge of the grass. People were missing and those who remained stood as if waiting for the ceremony to start. He circled around to the front to get a better view, hiding in the shadows so as not to alert anyone. Raymond was unaccounted for. Corliss stood stiff-backed, facing away from the audience.
Her caramel-colored hair was piled atop her head, darkened to walnut in the moonlight. Shadows hid her sea-green eyes and emphasized her high cheekbones. She appeared cold, harsh, and removed from events going on around her. Yet he knew her to be warm and caring, often too caring.
Giving to others more of her personal energy through her healing powers than she should. As her friend, he could offer support, but he couldn’t push too hard for her to rest, or she’d rip out his throat.
He chuffed. The dark blue specks in her eyes glowed when she was angry. That spark had been missing from her eyes for days. He repressed a growl as Corliss bit the inside of her cheek. Before the wind shifted, he backed away. She wouldn’t appreciate someone seeing her close to tears.
The wolf wanted to rip a hole in Raymond’s belly, but even the animals had rules for a challenge. He trotted to a cache of clothes. Only the man could help her now.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Four Questions Friday on Sapphire Phelan's Blog
Today I ask four questions about love. Come leave your answers in the comments. http://sapphirephelanspassioncorner.blogspot.com/2009/09/four-questions-friday.html
Sapphire Phelan
http://FantasticDreams.50megs.com
www.myspace.com/SapphirePhelan
http://SapphirePhelansPassionCorner.blogspot.com
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SapphirePhelansParanormalNewsletter
Go beyond the usual, instead take the unusual that stretches the boundaries and find romance with Sapphire Phelan's aliens, werewolves, vampires, fairies, and other supernatural/otherworldly heroes and heroines.
Available now: from Phaze Books: the erotic urban fantasy, Being Familiar With a Witch:
Tina doesn't know she's a witch. It will take Charun, her demon Familiar, to convince her to make love with him and let loose her witch powers.
For if she doesn't, then with the demon army about to bring Armageddon to the Mortal Realm on Halloween, she won't stand a chance in Hell.
http://FantasticDreams.50megs.com
www.myspace.com/SapphirePhelan
http://SapphirePhelansPassionCorner.blogspot.com
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SapphirePhelansParanormalNewsletter
Go beyond the usual, instead take the unusual that stretches the boundaries and find romance with Sapphire Phelan's aliens, werewolves, vampires, fairies, and other supernatural/otherworldly heroes and heroines.
Available now: from Phaze Books: the erotic urban fantasy, Being Familiar With a Witch:
Tina doesn't know she's a witch. It will take Charun, her demon Familiar, to convince her to make love with him and let loose her witch powers.
For if she doesn't, then with the demon army about to bring Armageddon to the Mortal Realm on Halloween, she won't stand a chance in Hell.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Saoirse Redgrave: A Tale of Werewolves
Teenage love, loss and--oh, yeah--Werewolves. Monsters are everywhere and what if the most frightening isn't a werewolf at all? Jessica's life seemed tragic enough since the loss of her mother, but meeting Pietr turns her world upside down again. The newest member of Junction High, Pietr has secrets to hide--secrets including dramatic changes he is undergoing that will surely end his life early.
Saoirse Redgrave’s cell phone novel 13 to Life: A Werewolf’s Tale was picked up by St. Martin’s Press in a 3 book deal after taking first place in the 2008 Textnovel contest. 13 to Life: A Werewolf’s Tale was written as a cell phone novel in 5 short weeks. As her road to publication is fascinating, Saoirse was kind enough to tell us how it all came about.
In a press release I read that you had chosen Textnovel as your exclusive literary agent. Can you share how they acted as your agent and was it through them that St. Martin's became interested or was it through your own effort?
Ah. This was around the time I started blinking rapidly in life due to shock and surprise. ;-) Along with the original cash prize of $1,000 I also was given the option of having Textnovel's founder, Stan Soper, as my agent. Stan's a Yale man with a degree in contract law and he was just starting towards becoming an agent. We had a very frank phone call (just my style) and he assured me the cash prize was still mine whether I wanted representation or not. For the previous year I'd been hearing a very dear friend of mine complaining about the difficulty of attracting an agent. I didn't want to go through the headache she was having and (having read the contract Stan offered) figured: Huh. What the heck? A grand and another voice to support my attempts at getting published. The contract was adjusted at my request (Stan being tremendously reasonable) and we started getting together all those nightmarish things you're told you need (query, outline, summary...). Then Stan called me and said (before our queries were out) that St. Martin's was curious (having seen a press release Stan had done for the contest and little else). After a little dance of joy, we approached SMP. They wanted to see a full manuscript. HA!
You know that cell phone novels are amazingly brief--closer to screen plays in some ways, I think. I had been doggedly (hey, it's a werewolf story ;-) working on fleshing out 13 to Life. It was little more than a story skeleton that won, in retrospect. But I did NOT have a full ready. I asked Stan to buy me some time--I didn't want SMP's interest to wane, but I wanted to be ready. Stan got me 3 weeks, I think, and I worked my butt off (though writing for long periods of time seems to put a butt right back in its place ;-). Stan asked me if I had any questions for SMP and I said to my husband "Is now the time to ask if they're for real and do they know I'm a nobody or should we wait?" "Wait," he assured me (he probably sneaked in some line about me not being a nobody to him, but, whatever. ;-)
Meanwhile we were contacted by the first of several Hollywood producers and another BIG publisher expressed curiosity, too. When I wasn't writing (or dosing up on coffee and trying to catch a few winks) I researched the two publishers and the producer. And Stan juggled for me, keeping in touch with people, keeping my name out there (well, Saoirse's name). Finally, I shoved the manuscript past a few betas (including an awesome bookstore owner named Annette Fitzgerald who printed the whole manuscript--then about 350 pages, double-spaced--and had it bound so she could chew through it). In one day. A few minor things were tweaked and we sent it to SMP and the other publisher. [The other publisher's contact was on vacation and her second said that although they really liked the project, they thought it might be too young for their YA target audience (in retrospect, I doubt they really read it through). But. At the same moment (like, all this was literally happening right on top of the other--talk about a wild ride) SMP had asked about getting me under contract. Stan and I were on the phone again and Stan said (essentially) that he knew this story could go to more books and did I feel the same way? Why, yes, I did. My hubby and I had been chatting about how far I thought this could run as a series. I had notes and outlines (some tighter than the others). Stan asked, "How many books?" I told him I thought maybe four or five with potential spin-offs but could easily guarantee three. And shazam! A three book deal in the works and a Hollywood producer asking us if he could shop us to Disney (which we had to say not now since we were working on the contract).
Contracting was the scariest part for me. I read through it. The hubby read through it. Pal Deborah Blake (an author through Lllewellyn) read through it and Stan combed through it and brought in an additional publishing lawyer. We made suggestions, we got some changes, and feeling pretty darn good about stuff, signatures were placed on appropriate lines.
So, long story short, SMP contacted us partly due to a press release, but Stan was instrumental in sealing the deal. ;-)
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Made in Czechoslavakia
The story I am going to tell you comes out of "The Ligourian" I read it long ago.
During WW2 Nazi's used lots of forced labor, Czechoslavakia was no different. People worked long hours in factories to build bombs for the Nazi war machine.
Resistance took many forms, workers began to sabotage the bombs, at risk of thier own lives.
One man recalled a battle where his squad was sure they were all dead. A bomb landed, with no where to run, they all stood frozen staring at the harbringer of death. The bomb was only inches from the men.
nothing happened.
A brave soul got closer and noted the bomb was made in Czechoslavakia. It was a dud. The saboteurs were successful. "Made in Czechoslavakia" became the squadron's battle cry.
As battles raged, bullets flew, the battle cry gave them courage to keep fighting.
Years later, the old soldier was in the hospital. The prognosis wasn't good and his family stayed by his side to hold his hand for what might be the last time.
His brother went to the gift store to buy a rosary so they could pray together.
He was taken down to surgery.
Hours later, they awaited the news.
How long would he have left?
Tears filled the doctor's eyes when he met with the family. He wasn't sure why or how, but the soldier recovered.
When the soldier was brought back to the room. He embraced his family and took the rosary from the box, a small piece of paper fell onto the bed.
It read: Made in Czechoslavakia.
During WW2 Nazi's used lots of forced labor, Czechoslavakia was no different. People worked long hours in factories to build bombs for the Nazi war machine.
Resistance took many forms, workers began to sabotage the bombs, at risk of thier own lives.
One man recalled a battle where his squad was sure they were all dead. A bomb landed, with no where to run, they all stood frozen staring at the harbringer of death. The bomb was only inches from the men.
nothing happened.
A brave soul got closer and noted the bomb was made in Czechoslavakia. It was a dud. The saboteurs were successful. "Made in Czechoslavakia" became the squadron's battle cry.
As battles raged, bullets flew, the battle cry gave them courage to keep fighting.
Years later, the old soldier was in the hospital. The prognosis wasn't good and his family stayed by his side to hold his hand for what might be the last time.
His brother went to the gift store to buy a rosary so they could pray together.
He was taken down to surgery.
Hours later, they awaited the news.
How long would he have left?
Tears filled the doctor's eyes when he met with the family. He wasn't sure why or how, but the soldier recovered.
When the soldier was brought back to the room. He embraced his family and took the rosary from the box, a small piece of paper fell onto the bed.
It read: Made in Czechoslavakia.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Book trailer for Flames on The Sky
Flames on The Sky, a Faery Rose time-travel novel with The Wild Rose Press will be out October 23, 2009. I finally got the book trailer finished and would like to share it with you. Please let me know what you think.
Happy Reading and Writing!
Linda
Linda LaRoque ~Western Romance with a Twist in Time~ A Law of Her Own, Desires of the Heart, My Heart Will Find Yours, Flames on the Sky10-9, Forever Faithful, Investment of the Heart, When the Ocotillo Bloom
www.lindalaroque.com/ http://wwww.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com/
Happy Reading and Writing!
Linda
Linda LaRoque ~Western Romance with a Twist in Time~ A Law of Her Own, Desires of the Heart, My Heart Will Find Yours, Flames on the Sky10-9, Forever Faithful, Investment of the Heart, When the Ocotillo Bloom
www.lindalaroque.com/ http://wwww.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Publisher Sponsored Contest
My next novella, Healer's Fate, will be available from Whispers Publishing. I've completed the edits, just waiting on a cover and the release date.
Whispers Publishing is sponsoring a Scavenger Hunt and I'm a participating author. It goes until August 31, 2009. You can find details here. There are plenty of books and other items available to win (I'm offering a bookmark). Please check it out and I hope you'll enter.
Whispers Publishing is sponsoring a Scavenger Hunt and I'm a participating author. It goes until August 31, 2009. You can find details here. There are plenty of books and other items available to win (I'm offering a bookmark). Please check it out and I hope you'll enter.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Kindertransport
On the 7th of August, Wild Rose Press will release “Kindertransport”.
This is a poignant story-taking place in pre war Nazi Germany.
Nurse Erika Lehmier cares for the children housed at Grafeneck Castle as though they were her own. When the SS confiscates Grafeneck, Erika discovers plans to turn the castle into a treatment center that will end the lives of children with disabilities.
One of her children, Heidi, has no visible handicap, and thereby has a small chance to escape the Nazi destruction, but for the rest, Erika must find a way to escape—or face the heartbreaking decision to give them a peaceful death by her own hand.
Will she find a way out?
Can she trust Rickard, when he wears an SS uniform?
Here's an excerpt:
I filled a syringe with morphine.
Could innocent blood ever be washed away?
Would my hands ever be clean again if I continued on this course? The gas would make them choke, gasping for breath as life was strangled to nothingness. Morphine would make them euphoric, and an overdose would put them to sleep, peacefully, with no pain. A sleep from which they would not awake, but they would be safe from the evil that awaited them otherwise.
I filled the second syringe. I thought of each child as I punctured the rubber stopper, the needle sucking up the lethal fluid filling the tube. Little Wilhelm. My treasured leader of the pack. The braces on his legs never stopped his imagination from soaring. Lara. An artist’s soul expressed with the one good hand she had. Art reflective of the beauty living in her heart. The twins. Isn’t intelligence measured with creativity? I would sorely miss their energy.
My hand slipped., and the needle grazed the knuckle of my thumb. I swore and bit my lip. Perfect. I’ll kill myself before I get a chance to euthanize my children. Then, after I enter Heaven’s gate, if He lets me inside them, God can tell me I am an idiot and a murderer.
I rubbed my shoulders. They hunched with an invisible weight that made my back ache.
This is a poignant story-taking place in pre war Nazi Germany.
Nurse Erika Lehmier cares for the children housed at Grafeneck Castle as though they were her own. When the SS confiscates Grafeneck, Erika discovers plans to turn the castle into a treatment center that will end the lives of children with disabilities.
One of her children, Heidi, has no visible handicap, and thereby has a small chance to escape the Nazi destruction, but for the rest, Erika must find a way to escape—or face the heartbreaking decision to give them a peaceful death by her own hand.
Will she find a way out?
Can she trust Rickard, when he wears an SS uniform?
Here's an excerpt:
I filled a syringe with morphine.
Could innocent blood ever be washed away?
Would my hands ever be clean again if I continued on this course? The gas would make them choke, gasping for breath as life was strangled to nothingness. Morphine would make them euphoric, and an overdose would put them to sleep, peacefully, with no pain. A sleep from which they would not awake, but they would be safe from the evil that awaited them otherwise.
I filled the second syringe. I thought of each child as I punctured the rubber stopper, the needle sucking up the lethal fluid filling the tube. Little Wilhelm. My treasured leader of the pack. The braces on his legs never stopped his imagination from soaring. Lara. An artist’s soul expressed with the one good hand she had. Art reflective of the beauty living in her heart. The twins. Isn’t intelligence measured with creativity? I would sorely miss their energy.
My hand slipped., and the needle grazed the knuckle of my thumb. I swore and bit my lip. Perfect. I’ll kill myself before I get a chance to euthanize my children. Then, after I enter Heaven’s gate, if He lets me inside them, God can tell me I am an idiot and a murderer.
I rubbed my shoulders. They hunched with an invisible weight that made my back ache.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
LASR Five Star Plus Review for Children Of The Mist
I had to read this latest review twice for it to sink in. Wow, not just a five star, 'a Best Book' rating! If you have a moment, I'd love you to check it out - and if you're minded to vote for it at the site over the weekend, 'For Book Of The Week', you'd have my undying gratitude. I'm sorry to ask for yet another vote, these things always seem to come together and I know the other reviews and books are all just as deserving, but I have to try, don't I? :)
Here's some of what Orchid had to say:
"This book is wonderful! There are few books that hold my interest to the point where I can't bear to put it down, but Children of the Mist is most certainly at the top of this list. The attraction between Tamarith and Vidarh is beautifully written. The involvement of telepathy would appear to make it easier for them to share their feelings, but this isn't the case."
You can read the rest of the review at:
Thanks so much,
Lyn
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Review for My Heart Will Find Yours
My time travel romance, My Heart Will Find Yours, received a 5 book review from reviewer Water Lily at Long and Short Romance Reviews.
Here is a quote.
"I loved the bi-play between Royce and Texanna. They have definite chemistry even though Texanna wishes they didn’t. She risks everything to save Royce and his (and Pearl’s) son, but doesn’t mean to stay in 1880. She doesn’t mean to fall in love with Pearl’s husband.
Linda LaRoque’s characters are extremely likeable, multilayered, and faith-filled. The way she plays the past and the present off each other, using one to change the other, makes this story truly unique. My Heart Will Find Yours is fast paced and compelling. I read it in one sitting.
I will definitely be watching for Flames in the Sky, Book Two in LaRoque’s Turquoise Legacy series."
My Heart Will Find Yours can be purchased in ebook, Kindle, and print from The Wild Rose Press or Amazon.
Here is a blurb for Flames on the Sky, Book Two of the Turquoise Legacy. It will be out October 23, 2009 with The Wild Rose Press.
The Anasazi whispered of this evil and of the
woman who could defeat it.
Fire, sky, and stone must unite to fulfill an ancient prophecy.
woman who could defeat it.
Fire, sky, and stone must unite to fulfill an ancient prophecy.
Madison Evans inherits a turquoise locket, travels to New Mexico, and discovers the stone dates back to the Chacoan Anasazi. When she's attacked, parks ranger Lonan Stone, of Chacoan ancestry, fears Madison's turquoise is a missing twin of the revered Fallen Skystone, an egg size piece of turquoise on display in Albuquerque. The mystical stone is missing two slivers – one’s in Madison’s necklace, the others whereabouts unknown, but if united by evil they can destroy.
Madison and Lonan are part of a 1000 year old prophecy to save Chaco Canyon. Thrust back in time, they meet a witch, solve a murder, fall in love, and imprison a 1000 year old evil spirit. Their mission complete, can these two people from different cultures blend their lives as the prophecy predicted?
I hope you'll take a look at these two time travel romances.
Also, visit my blog Linda's Musings. I have a monthly drawing for an ebook. Leave a comment to be entered. I also have contests for my new releases.
Happy Reading and Writing!
Linda
Linda LaRoque ~Western Romance with a Twist in Time~ A Law of Her Own, Desires of the Heart, My Heart Will Find Yours, Flames on the Sky10-9, The Wild Rose Press; Forever Faithful, Investment of the Heart, When the Ocotillo Bloom 7-9, Champagne Books.
www.lindalaroque.com/
http://wwww.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com/
www.lindalaroque.com/
http://wwww.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com/
Monday, July 6, 2009
A Fun Book Trailer
ANGEL VINDICATED book trailer:
Available now from http://www.cerridwenpress.com/!
Vote for your favorite Angel Vindicated character at http://www.violaestrella.com/ or www.myspace.com/violaestrella.
Viola Estrella
www.violaestrella.com
www.myspace.com/violaestrella
www.twitter.com/violaestrella
Available now from http://www.cerridwenpress.com/!
Vote for your favorite Angel Vindicated character at http://www.violaestrella.com/ or www.myspace.com/violaestrella.
Viola Estrella
www.violaestrella.com
www.myspace.com/violaestrella
www.twitter.com/violaestrella
Friday, July 3, 2009
A new release
Hi,
I'm Jennifer Childers and I write for the Wild Rose Press.
My new release "Kindertransport" will be out the seventh of August.
It is historical romance set in prewar nazi Germany. it's interesting to note Adolph Hitler was on a search for paranormal and occult artifacts when...
"AAA!"A figure approaches and gives Jennifer a shove. She screams and topples down hill. Alayna smirks and waves bye bye.
"Later loser," Alayna cracks her riding crop. "Listen up. This is a paranormal site and I'm, technically, paranormal. Werewolf or werekin if you prefer. I'm just a bit tired of the goody two shoes heroines and their pathetic tales of woe. Does he love me? Will he love me forever? Gads, suck it up or die you pathetic pup. If you want a man, grab him, take him and make him beg to be your slave. If he gives you a problem, beat him into submission. I'd say allow him to pleasure you but return him to the pack after about a week, that way you don't have all the soppy emotional crap keeping you from what's important. Watching a woman coo over a man just makes me want to put her out of her misery, permanently.
Historically speaking in 1433 Emperor Sigismund declared a disbelief in werewolves to be illegal. There is a reason for that, we're here. I remember tales of werewolves in post war Nazi Germany. I got enthused for nothing, they were just a bunch of guerilla fighters who couldn't accept defeat. They chose to die fighting rather than surrender. Now that I think about it, I respect that. I was bummed they weren't real werewolves however.
Our leader created us. Bigger, faster and stronger than any human. He is a scientific mastermind and strategist. When he is done waging war, and setting factions against one another, those left standing will be ripe for the plucking. Surrender now and I might be merciful, annoy me and hope your end comes swiftly. Know this one way or other, you will be on your knees trembling before my armies. I am Alayna and I am your overlord."
I'm Jennifer Childers and I write for the Wild Rose Press.
My new release "Kindertransport" will be out the seventh of August.
It is historical romance set in prewar nazi Germany. it's interesting to note Adolph Hitler was on a search for paranormal and occult artifacts when...
"AAA!"A figure approaches and gives Jennifer a shove. She screams and topples down hill. Alayna smirks and waves bye bye.
"Later loser," Alayna cracks her riding crop. "Listen up. This is a paranormal site and I'm, technically, paranormal. Werewolf or werekin if you prefer. I'm just a bit tired of the goody two shoes heroines and their pathetic tales of woe. Does he love me? Will he love me forever? Gads, suck it up or die you pathetic pup. If you want a man, grab him, take him and make him beg to be your slave. If he gives you a problem, beat him into submission. I'd say allow him to pleasure you but return him to the pack after about a week, that way you don't have all the soppy emotional crap keeping you from what's important. Watching a woman coo over a man just makes me want to put her out of her misery, permanently.
Historically speaking in 1433 Emperor Sigismund declared a disbelief in werewolves to be illegal. There is a reason for that, we're here. I remember tales of werewolves in post war Nazi Germany. I got enthused for nothing, they were just a bunch of guerilla fighters who couldn't accept defeat. They chose to die fighting rather than surrender. Now that I think about it, I respect that. I was bummed they weren't real werewolves however.
Our leader created us. Bigger, faster and stronger than any human. He is a scientific mastermind and strategist. When he is done waging war, and setting factions against one another, those left standing will be ripe for the plucking. Surrender now and I might be merciful, annoy me and hope your end comes swiftly. Know this one way or other, you will be on your knees trembling before my armies. I am Alayna and I am your overlord."
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
A Short Story - Romance and The Texas Ranger, The Journey Home
We've all heard stories of individuals who on their deathbed see and talk to loved ones who have passed on. My uncle did and I so hope it's true. It's reassuring to think we'll be ushered over, if not by Jesus himself, by someone dear to our heart. The story I'm sharing today touches on this concept. If you have experiences to share, I'd love to hear them.
Texas Ranger Caleb Johnson slumped atop his horse, swaying to the pace of his sorrel mare. His head bobbed with the gait as he struggled to stay in the saddle and catch a few winks of sleep. It was a ritual he and Red were accustomed to. He’d ridden many miles while asleep and his horse hadn’t tossed him once. Some weeks it was the only sleep he got. Now wasn’t a good time not to be aware of his surroundings. He was alone, wounded, and weak. The pain from his shoulder injury screamed with each movement.
The captain ordered him to stay in camp until he could send him home with an escort. But, Caleb wouldn’t have it. Hell, he was shot, not dead. He’d stolen away in the middle of the night. All he wanted was to get home to Amy. It’d been five years since he’d seen her. Maybe he no longer had a wife. Rangers weren’t good marriage material and she’d not wanted him to join up. They’d had a terrible row. Her blue eyes flashed fire as she screamed, “I won’t be here when you decide to come home.”
Contrite over her scalding words, Amy wrote him faithfully at least once a month. It’d been a year now since he’d heard from her. Every time he thought he’d get home, his division was dispatched to another area and he couldn’t go. He shuddered. Was the tremor from his wound or fear? Something was wrong at home. He could feel it in his bones.
He struggled to stay awake, but fatigue, blood loss, and now with a raging fever, illness won out. His chin hit his chest and darkness clouded his consciousness. Dreams whirled through his mind—Amy on their wedding day, her shiny brown hair piled high on her head, ringlets curling around her face. Eyes spitting fire the day he left, her face red, almost as dark as the freckles that covered her pert nose. Oh, she was a corker. He loved her spit and vinegar.
Red kicked up her heels, sending him forward, jolting him awake. Like a drunk woken by the nudge of a boot, blurry eyed, he glanced around and noticed three Indian braves on the mesa top to the west, a half a mile away.
He wrapped the reins around the saddle horn, pulled his Winchester from its scabbard, and propped the butt on his thigh. He’d show them he was armed. Hell, he was so weak he couldn’t shoot a rabbit. Hopefully they hadn’t seen him swaying in the saddle like a drunk. His knees tightened around Red. She sprinted forward but didn’t break into a full gallop. Don’t let them think you’re afraid and running. They’ll be on you like ants.
War whoops echoed behind him. He raised the rifle with one arm, propping the butt at the juncture of his shoulder, turned and shot wild. A bullet slammed into his chest. He hit the packed earth. Red broke her stride and returned to him, nudging him with her nose and whinnying for him to get up.
Shouts of victory surrounded him. Red’s reins were grabbed by a young brave. She fought against the restriction but the Indian coaxed her forward, gently stroked her muzzle and whispered in her ear. Soon, she quieted and stopped struggling though she snorted and stamped her hooves in agitation at the smell of blood.
Vision fuzzy, Caleb spotted his valued star adorning the shirt of an older brave. Several men poked him with their rifles. He didn’t feel pain, only a roaring in his ears, and a calming sense of peace. The war party rode away in a flurry of triumphant shouts.
Bright light enclosed him. A form stepped out and knelt at his side. Pink lips, accompanied by a pert freckled nose and blue eyes, smiled. She leaned down and kissed him sweetly on the mouth. Her lilac scent filled his nostrils and joy filled his heart.
“It’s time, Caleb. Time for you to come home.” Amy helped him rise and took his hand. “Come, my love.” Together they walked into the light.
The End
Thanks for Reading!
Linda
Linda LaRoque ~Western Romance with a Twist in Time~ A Law of Her Own, Desires of the Heart, My Heart Will Find Yours, Flames on the Sky10-9, The Wild Rose Press; Forever Faithful, Investment of the Heart, When the Ocotillo Bloom 7-9, Champagne Books.
www.lindalaroque.com/
www.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com/
Texas Ranger Caleb Johnson slumped atop his horse, swaying to the pace of his sorrel mare. His head bobbed with the gait as he struggled to stay in the saddle and catch a few winks of sleep. It was a ritual he and Red were accustomed to. He’d ridden many miles while asleep and his horse hadn’t tossed him once. Some weeks it was the only sleep he got. Now wasn’t a good time not to be aware of his surroundings. He was alone, wounded, and weak. The pain from his shoulder injury screamed with each movement.
The captain ordered him to stay in camp until he could send him home with an escort. But, Caleb wouldn’t have it. Hell, he was shot, not dead. He’d stolen away in the middle of the night. All he wanted was to get home to Amy. It’d been five years since he’d seen her. Maybe he no longer had a wife. Rangers weren’t good marriage material and she’d not wanted him to join up. They’d had a terrible row. Her blue eyes flashed fire as she screamed, “I won’t be here when you decide to come home.”
Contrite over her scalding words, Amy wrote him faithfully at least once a month. It’d been a year now since he’d heard from her. Every time he thought he’d get home, his division was dispatched to another area and he couldn’t go. He shuddered. Was the tremor from his wound or fear? Something was wrong at home. He could feel it in his bones.
He struggled to stay awake, but fatigue, blood loss, and now with a raging fever, illness won out. His chin hit his chest and darkness clouded his consciousness. Dreams whirled through his mind—Amy on their wedding day, her shiny brown hair piled high on her head, ringlets curling around her face. Eyes spitting fire the day he left, her face red, almost as dark as the freckles that covered her pert nose. Oh, she was a corker. He loved her spit and vinegar.
Red kicked up her heels, sending him forward, jolting him awake. Like a drunk woken by the nudge of a boot, blurry eyed, he glanced around and noticed three Indian braves on the mesa top to the west, a half a mile away.
He wrapped the reins around the saddle horn, pulled his Winchester from its scabbard, and propped the butt on his thigh. He’d show them he was armed. Hell, he was so weak he couldn’t shoot a rabbit. Hopefully they hadn’t seen him swaying in the saddle like a drunk. His knees tightened around Red. She sprinted forward but didn’t break into a full gallop. Don’t let them think you’re afraid and running. They’ll be on you like ants.
War whoops echoed behind him. He raised the rifle with one arm, propping the butt at the juncture of his shoulder, turned and shot wild. A bullet slammed into his chest. He hit the packed earth. Red broke her stride and returned to him, nudging him with her nose and whinnying for him to get up.
Shouts of victory surrounded him. Red’s reins were grabbed by a young brave. She fought against the restriction but the Indian coaxed her forward, gently stroked her muzzle and whispered in her ear. Soon, she quieted and stopped struggling though she snorted and stamped her hooves in agitation at the smell of blood.
Vision fuzzy, Caleb spotted his valued star adorning the shirt of an older brave. Several men poked him with their rifles. He didn’t feel pain, only a roaring in his ears, and a calming sense of peace. The war party rode away in a flurry of triumphant shouts.
Bright light enclosed him. A form stepped out and knelt at his side. Pink lips, accompanied by a pert freckled nose and blue eyes, smiled. She leaned down and kissed him sweetly on the mouth. Her lilac scent filled his nostrils and joy filled his heart.
“It’s time, Caleb. Time for you to come home.” Amy helped him rise and took his hand. “Come, my love.” Together they walked into the light.
The End
Thanks for Reading!
Linda
Linda LaRoque ~Western Romance with a Twist in Time~ A Law of Her Own, Desires of the Heart, My Heart Will Find Yours, Flames on the Sky10-9, The Wild Rose Press; Forever Faithful, Investment of the Heart, When the Ocotillo Bloom 7-9, Champagne Books.
www.lindalaroque.com/
www.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com/
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Do you believe in Ghosts?
My sisters and I went out to visit Tombstone, Arizona just for a fun day trip. We've all had ghostly encounters in the past so when we went into the Birdcage Theatre, claimed to be one of the most haunted places by Ghost Hunters, we had to take a lot of pictures as we pretended we were ghost hunters. Can you imagine three 40ish grown women running around a haunted theatre, giggling our butts off? I'm sure any real ghosts there would have been more amused by us. Unfortunately we didn't catch any ghosts, just some orbs and images in mirrors--or did we?
Here's a picture I took without the flash.
And with the flash. What do you think? Just creepy glare?
They say this manican of Wyatt Earp used to be in a theatre box across the hall, but his hat kept getting thrown off at night. Once he even was turned completely around backwards until a historian came in and exclaimed, "Well no wonder, you've put Wyatt in the Clanton's box." They moved him to his own box and his hat has been left alone.
So, do you believe?
Clover Autrey
Here's a picture I took without the flash.
And with the flash. What do you think? Just creepy glare?
They say this manican of Wyatt Earp used to be in a theatre box across the hall, but his hat kept getting thrown off at night. Once he even was turned completely around backwards until a historian came in and exclaimed, "Well no wonder, you've put Wyatt in the Clanton's box." They moved him to his own box and his hat has been left alone.
So, do you believe?
Clover Autrey
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Bad Karma and scary places
Can a place be impacted from the evil of its past?
Can an event be so horrific that the wrongness of its past be palpable?
Don't laugh, even Dr. Phil wonders.
The Tate house was discussed on his show last wednesday. In 1969 pregnant Sharon Tate was murdered by the Manson "family."
The house won't sell.
The house was torn down in the 90's and rebuilt.
It won't sell.
It is going for half price and it won't sell.
Why?
Those who will go near the house claim they can feel the wrongness of the place. A sense of forboding washes over the person as they near the property. There are some (Phil's wife) who won't even drive past the house as it sends a shudder thruogh her to even pass it by.
The Menendez house, where two boys shot their parents, is having similar problems.
No one wants to live there.
Would ignorance of a tragedy eliminate the eerie feelings people have.
The coliseum was once a stadium where people were thrown to lions as entertainment for onlookers. Today, cats gather there by the dozens. Its as though they are mourning the past.
Even animals feel the aura of a space.
For haunted spots in your state follow:
http://theshadowlands.net/places/
My grandfather spoke of his own ghost sititng in evansville, IN. he was in the buggy with his big brother (yep horse drawn)
the spectre of a man crossed the road and held a lantern up by his head. the boys watched and he simply disappeared.
"werent you scared, Peter?"
"naw, I was with you"
From that day forward Peter's son Jack told all the kids about the ghost in the basement. I would tread carefully to glimpse the spirit and run back upstairs. (it was a sheet tossed over the Christmas tree in a corner)
Jack died last weekend and I ventured to see the ghost once more.
I took photos.
no ghost.
I was bummed. I really thought one might appear.
The house has been in my family since 1920.
When i go, there is peace. I am at home.
Is this a haunting of sorts.
If a horrific event can imprint evil on a spot, can the reverse be true?
Can a house be so imprinted by the love of generations of family, that it is palpable decades later, giving me comfort even at a time of loss?
Can an event be so horrific that the wrongness of its past be palpable?
Don't laugh, even Dr. Phil wonders.
The Tate house was discussed on his show last wednesday. In 1969 pregnant Sharon Tate was murdered by the Manson "family."
The house won't sell.
The house was torn down in the 90's and rebuilt.
It won't sell.
It is going for half price and it won't sell.
Why?
Those who will go near the house claim they can feel the wrongness of the place. A sense of forboding washes over the person as they near the property. There are some (Phil's wife) who won't even drive past the house as it sends a shudder thruogh her to even pass it by.
The Menendez house, where two boys shot their parents, is having similar problems.
No one wants to live there.
Would ignorance of a tragedy eliminate the eerie feelings people have.
The coliseum was once a stadium where people were thrown to lions as entertainment for onlookers. Today, cats gather there by the dozens. Its as though they are mourning the past.
Even animals feel the aura of a space.
For haunted spots in your state follow:
http://theshadowlands.net/places/
My grandfather spoke of his own ghost sititng in evansville, IN. he was in the buggy with his big brother (yep horse drawn)
the spectre of a man crossed the road and held a lantern up by his head. the boys watched and he simply disappeared.
"werent you scared, Peter?"
"naw, I was with you"
From that day forward Peter's son Jack told all the kids about the ghost in the basement. I would tread carefully to glimpse the spirit and run back upstairs. (it was a sheet tossed over the Christmas tree in a corner)
Jack died last weekend and I ventured to see the ghost once more.
I took photos.
no ghost.
I was bummed. I really thought one might appear.
The house has been in my family since 1920.
When i go, there is peace. I am at home.
Is this a haunting of sorts.
If a horrific event can imprint evil on a spot, can the reverse be true?
Can a house be so imprinted by the love of generations of family, that it is palpable decades later, giving me comfort even at a time of loss?
Friday, May 15, 2009
Angel Vindicated Now Available
Abigail Angel is ready for the world to know her story. She's got nasty demons to keep in line, a best friend who confuses the hell out of her, and a half-demon who tempts her like no other. All the while, she's saving the human race from certain destruction. And trying to be a good Angel in the meantime.
ANGEL VINDICATED
A sexy urban fantasy
Available now as an eBook from www.cerridwenpress.com!
Come find out what sins Abby has avoided today.
Really. It's lonely being an Angel with a bad rep.
Excerpt:
“I’m leaving. I really shouldn’t be around you anymore.”
“You’re attracted to me too. Why can’t you admit it?” It wasn’t really a question though. He knew. He braced my waist and drew me toward him. “Oh, wait. I know. If you admit you desire a half-breed, then you’re somehow admitting you’re inadequate. Right?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. He couldn’t be more right.
“Because you believe half-breeds are inferior and not worth an Angel’s time or affection. Is that it, Abigail?”
His lips were so close to mine, his warm breath lingered at my nose, reminding me of the delicious taste of his mouth. I sniffed the aroma in and gulped it down. Pathetic. Really, really pathetic.
With whatever brain cells I had left I muttered, “I have to go. Now.”
“Of course.”
Before I knew what was happening next I was being escorted to the elevator. His hand was on my back as he gently guided me along the hardwood floor. I couldn’t hear his shoes but mine were squeaking noisily, covering the sound of Harley’s continuous keyboard tapping.
Such a stupid thing to concentrate on, Abby.
He pressed the down button and turned me by my shoulders so he could look at my face. “Be careful,” he whispered. “Peter Piper isn’t dangerous by himself but he’s idiotic enough to follow someone who is. Do you understand?”
“Why don’t you give me more information then?” I was surprised he’d come to that conclusion by simply looking at Piper’s file. What kind of notes did this guy take? And how could I get my hands on them?
“Have dinner with me tonight and we can discuss it.”
“I wouldn’t even if I could.”
“You’re working?”
I didn’t answer. I may have wanted to lick whipped cream off his body but I didn’t trust him to know any more about me than he already did.
“Lunch tomorrow, then?”
“Not going to happen.”
He drew in an annoyed breath and pulled a business card out of thin air. “Take this. Call me if you change your mind, day or night. Or if you feel like you might be attacked again.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What would you do about it?”
“Prevent it from happening, of course.”
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Caribbean Dreams of Love..A Pirate Story...But Not THAT Kind of Pirate!
It would be just my luck to have a book about pirates released...just about the time when the news of real-life poor bandits like Somalian pirates seemingly take the "romance" right out of the word. And admittedly, piracy has never been a good thing...even in the Caribbean. Thieves and/or murderers...but on the high seas! And I hate stealing. We just had our bikes stolen the other day. Argh... Any idea of glorifying piracy is nuts and untrue to my values! And yet, I wrote a romance novel with pirates. What can I say? It's fiction! HOWEVER...I'll clue the reader in... Okay, I'll give the story away. No, not the book, just the plot. My "pirate" isn't all he seems to be. There! I've said it. Try to picture him in something other than a raft. Here's a bit about Caribbean Dreams of Love, one of my favorite books. It's the story of a lonely woman and her precocious teenage daughter, a Caribbean cruise, a ghost, a pirate, a legend, a mysterious musician and a curse. Please see the video trailer below, plus the blurb and excerpt. I hope you enjoy!
Blurb: Daisy and her sixteen-year-old daughter, Lily, are embarking on a Caribbean cruise. She isn't looking for anything special on the cruise other than a pleasant break from her humdrum existence as long-time divorced single mother to a busy teenage girl. She certainly isn't prepared for an enigmatic man named Peter whose idiosyncrasies in dress and speech mark him as an eccentric person to avoid. But Daisy can't avoid him. In fact, she begins to obsess about him from the first moment she catches him staring at her in the cruise ship terminal. Peter remains elusive and mysterious throughout the cruise. She catches sight of him occasionally, never often enough to please her, and they connect one wonderful night as he sweeps her into his arms for a waltz. A waltz? On a Caribbean cruise ship? While Daisy's dinner companions share nightly tales of the legends of cursed pirates, Daisy dreams of the mysterious man who has captured her heart.
Excerpt:
Bjorn glanced at his enrapt audience and took a deep breath. Daisy cringed. Something was coming.
"And with his last ounce of strength, Captain Smith grabbed his sword and plunged it in Gentleman Jones' heart."
A stab of pain seemed to knife through Daisy's own heart, and she involuntarily put a hand to the painful spot just below her left collarbone.
Even Becky was speechless, her jaw hung open. Lily took a breath and asked the question uppermost in Daisy's mind.
"Did he...does he...?"
"They say he still wanders the Caribbean, alone and lonely, a ghost with no hope of dying or returning to the living."
Bjorn's voice drifted away. He scanned the faces of his audience solemnly.
He shrugged. "But it's just a silly story, one of many. Who knows if any of them are true?"
And in a surprise move, he picked up his fork and resumed eating. Johana smiled demurely and took a sip of water before she too resumed eating.
Bjorn's stunned dinner companions stared at him. Lily, Daisy and Becky exchanged saddened glances.
Jim broke the silence when he started laughing and clapped Bjorn on the back. Bjorn choked slightly and put his napkin to his lips.
"Well, you sure had us going. I'll give you that. So...no truth to the story?"
Bjorn leaned slightly away from Jim and shrugged once again. "I find the Caribbean folklore fascinating, but many of the stories are just that. Stories. I heard this tale from a man in a museum in Nassau once. I liked it." He gave the group a sheepish smile.
"So, it's just a fairy tale?" Becky asked.
"Not a fairy tale," Bjorn smiled slightly. "Just an old legend. If the story were true, we would have to believe in ghosts...and I for one do not care to think about such things." He picked up his knife and fork again and began to cut his food, seemingly no longer interested.
"Just a legend," murmured Johana. She shook her head in amusement. "A story. Bjorn has many."
"Mom, what are you doing? Are you okay?"
Daisy turned to meet her daughter's eyes. Lily nodded toward Daisy's hand still dramatically clutched to her chest.
She colored and dropped her hand. The pain had eased.
Such a sad story!
Video Trailer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEfgJ8Ng7lo
Buy Link: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=1083&zenid=158e2bb07c492a5af9aa0e192c694c7f
Bess McBride
www.bessmcbride.com
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Being Familiar With a Witch-Available Now
BEING FAMILIAR WITH A WITCH
ISBN: 978-1-60659-118-5
Warning: This title contains hot, graphic demonic sex that goes beyond magic
Tina doesn't know she's a witch. It will take Charun, her demon Familiar, to convince her to make love with him and let loose her witch powers. For if she doesn't, then with the demon army about to bring Armageddon to the Mortal Realm on Halloween, she won't stand a chance in Hell.
EXCERPT:
Thank goodness, in a couple hours she would have the week off from work. Soon it would be Halloween, her most favorite holiday of all. Last week she had decorated her house, making both the front of her house and the yard spooky. Two unlit Jack-O-Lanterns sat on the steps of her front porch, their expressions empty of vivid light. Until Halloween night, when she would stick a candle inside each one and, with a flick of a lighter, set them a glow.
She had bought bags of candy a month ago in anticipation of the kids in costume. She always dressed as a witch. Though why she did, she never understood. It just it felt right for her to be costumed as a witch. Using a big metal cauldron she found years ago in an antique store, she would fill it to the brim with the candy and wait for the costumers to trip up the porch steps to her, uttering “Trick or Treat!” in loud, tinny voices. She would cackle and offer each child to take some goodies from her cauldron if they dared. The neighborhood looked forward to this every year, and the troop of children to her place grew each year.
But even her favorite holiday didn’t alleviate the problems at the bookstore today. She stopped daydreaming as the bell above the bookstore door rang. She grimaced as she saw the unhappy lines pinched in the face of the lady who stepped inside. A hat that should have been pert and cute sagged on top of mousy brown hair drawn back in a tight bun. The woman marched up to the counter and slapped a book down on the desk, hard. Tina frowned as she didn’t like seeing books abused. Then the woman stabbed her finger repeatedly onto the book.
“This was sold to me by one of the clerks here a week ago, promising it would make my husband amorous.” The lady snorted as she glared from behind Coke-bottle glasses. “All he did was read it for the ‘dirty’ pictures as he called them, and then fell asleep.” She tossed the cash receipt at Tina. The paper drifted down to the counter, just an inch from falling off at the edge. “I want my money back for this trash.”
“That’s no problem at all, ma’am.” Tina opened the cash register and withdrew some dollar bills and a few coins. She handed them over to the lady, who opened her purse and chucked it all inside. Then the lady stomped out of the bookstore, the door banging shut behind her and causing the bell to clang for a long time. Tina gave a sigh.
After that, it seemed every nasty customer in the world had stepped into the place. Each and every one had a complaint. One man demanded the book he swore he called two weeks ago to order, but nothing was in the ordering forms for it. An elderly lady didn’t like the racy and very erotic romance section wedged next to the sweet romances she normally bought. She claimed that the covers with the naked men gave her the flutters. Tina had noticed earlier that the lady stood in front of that section for quite a long while, but she didn’t say anything, just uttered how sorry she was. She told her that they were romances, too, and her manager had wanted them there. Her nose in the air, the bag of four sweet romances tucked under an arm, the woman hobbled out of the store without a backward glance.A portly gentleman waddled in, wanting the latest thriller that had been advertised on a commercial on television last night. He couldn’t understand when Tina explained that it wouldn’t be out for another week. It had been on TV, so that meant it was out in his opinion. He clomped out, saying that the bookstore down the road was a better one anyway and always had what he wanted in stock. Tina just shook her head.
There had been more of the same thing all day long. Finally, she saw the last customer to the door and, with a sigh, locked up. Then she staggered through the automated motions of locking up the cash in the safe in the back of the store, cleaning up the bookstore, putting back misplaced books and magazines, and dumping and cleaning out the coffee pot in the break room. Grabbing her purse from her locker, she left by the back door, locked it, and then walked over to her car parked in back. The sound of thunder rumbled just then and she stopped to look up at the night sky, devoid of stars and the moon. She heard another blast of thunder. Saw a flash of lightening, too, as it lit up the area.
Great. The news had been wrong last night when they reported that the last of rain had left the area. Hopefully, it wouldn’t start until she made it home.
She climbed in and started the engine. The car roared to life and she turned on her windshield wipers, thanks to the terrible storm that hit just then. She drove down the alley and into traffic.
The rain came down in a torrential downpour, making her wipers work hard, but still she had problems seeing the road. It didn’t help much that it was also night. So dark, lights from oncoming cars shimmered, and she took care to make sure she didn’t weave over into their lane. The windshield fogged up from the humidity, and kept her wiping at the glass so she could see. Doing this for the umpteenth time, she didn’t notice the cat, not until her car was almost upon it.
It was black as a dark and stormy night, quoting a bad beginning to a book. The cat’s eyes shone in the brightness of her headlights, eerie like lamplights. She brought her car to a screeching halt, the car’s tires skidding for a bit. Her chest smacked into the steering wheel and she bit her lip to keep from crying out from the pain. She jammed the car in park and, leaving the engine running, climbed out of it to check on the feline. She peered at the front of her car and under it, but no cat. The rain drenched her within seconds as she tried to see if she could find it in the immediate area.
She couldn’t see the dratted thing.
“Kitty, kitty,” she called, “here, kitty-kitty. Nice puss.”
Thinking that maybe it had gotten away and knowing the storm made it impossible to locate it, Tina opened the driver’s side door and heard a plaintive meow. Something streaked past her and dove into the car. Freaked out, she screamed. Then she realized as she looked inside she saw a very wet black cat sitting on the bucket seat on the passenger side. It stared back at her with large, luminous eyes that seemed to glow. She got into the car and shut the door behind her. She felt her seat become very wet from the water running off her, and she shivered from cold.
Attempting to wring out her wet hair, she stared at the cat as it settled down and began to dry itself with its tongue. She sighed.
“Well, I see I have a passenger. You can stay in here and ride with me to my house, but cat, you are not coming inside my place. Hear me? You can remain on my front porch until the rain stops.”
The cat appeared unconcerned and kept lashing its tongue over its wet fur, though the tail lashed. Then it paused and looked up at her. She saw for the first time that it had very pretty yellow eyes, actually more the color of amber. They were large and round, eclipsing its face. For a minute, she seemed to drown in their depths. She blinked, breaking the spell. The cat ducked its head back down to its side and went back to drying itself. Its sharp ears perked up, twitching. Its purring filled the interior of her car.
Tina took the car out of park and maneuvered it back onto the road. The downpour had calmed to a misting. She kept her eyes on the road, ignoring the smell of wet fur and how cold she felt. She would take the occasional glimpse of the cat from the corner of her eye and see that it was lying down and purring. It should have bothered her. After all, what stray cat would be so well behaved in a strange car, especially not in a cat carrier? Except, she accepted it all.
For an erotic excerpt (rated R): http://sensual.ecataromance.com/?p=1655
Sapphire Phelan
http://FantasticDreams.50megs.com
www.myspace.com/SapphirePhelan
http://SapphirePhelansPassionCorner.blogspot.com
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http://twitter.com/SapphirePhelan
Go beyond the usual, instead take the unusual that stretches the boundaries and find romance with Sapphire Phelan's aliens, werewolves, vampires, fairies, and other supernatural/otherworldly heroes and heroines.
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