Saturday, May 30, 2009
Bad Karma and scary places
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
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
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SapphirePhelansParanormalNewsletter
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.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Historys tough mothers
The worlds'oldest profession, err, the other oldest profession.
Motherhood.
We are the cornerstone of society, the building blocks of an empire rest on our shoulders, how we nurture the next generation makes history. This mothers day, I would like to acknowlege some of the tough mothers we might have forgotten. For good or evil, these women fought for thier children.
Anne Boleyn:
Refusal to become Henry VIII's mistrress. Anne kept her eyes on the prize. She became Queen of England when Catherine of Aragon was evicted back to Spain.
A key figure in the English Reformation, She gave birth to one of the greatest leaders in England.
Queen Elizabeth I. Sadly the birth of a dughter became her undoing when the king wanted a son. She was beheaded May 1536 for hight treason.
When her daughter became queen, Anne was verated as a marty and heroine of the English Reformation. Her sister ran off with her child and raised her so, Mary Boleyn deserves mention as a tough mom as well.
Olympus of Epirus:
Princess of Epirote, commander of her own army and Queen of Macedonia, Alexander the Great just called her mom.
Angry at comments that her son was an inferior hier as he wasn't of pure Macedonian blood, she told her husband Zeus fathered her baby.
They divorced and her husband, King Philip of Macedonia, denied Alexander. At the wedding of his next wife, a toast was made blessing Philip and the legitimate heirs he will have with his new bride. Philip then offered this man the hand of his daughter (with Olympia).
He was found murdered soon after and Alexander took over his father's throne.
She supported her son and they were close, afer his death Olympia reared her grandchildren as warriors, plotted against ememies and caused the deaths of usurpers. Cruel while in control it is said she was denied burial rites after she died.
Elizabeth (Ersébeth) Bathory:
The countess of Hungary, mass murderer, occultist and mother of four.When accused of her crimes against female blood the countess outsmarted her cousins attempt at a land grab and left all her property to her children, assuring thier wealth and title after her death.
She helped fund the war against the Turks and was in line to be queen of Poland. Her son stood up for her in court. Bathory was not executed but bricked up in her room until she died four years later in 1610.
Cleopatra:
Incestuous marriage to her brother yeilded no children. Political alliances (and betrayals) bore a son to Julias Ceasar and a son as well as twins to Marc Antony.
Her reign marks the reign of the Roman Era i n the Eastern Mediterranean. She rebelled against Rome and tried to fend for the best interests of Egypt. Allied with Marc Antony they suffered a final defeat at Actuim. She killed herself.
Her beauty was not as renowned as history proclaims. in the words of Plutarch, what made Cleopatra attractive was her wit, charm and sweetenss in her tone of voice.
Coretta Scott King
After her husband's murder in 1968, the easiest course for this lady might bave been to flee to a more tolerant part of the country and never risk raising public ire again. Coretta might have been critcized for not protecting her children, instead she rose to the challenge of continuing her husbands work with the civil rights movementas as well as the womens movement.
She approached Josephine Baker,an entertainer and activist, to take over her husbands place as leader of the civil rights movemement. Josephine declined stating her children were too young to lose a mother.
Coretta steped up to the plate herself, speaking boldly for human rights, and an end to war and poverty. She founded the Martin Luther King Jr. Center of Non Violent Social Change in Atlanta.
Any threat of violence was superceded by a desire to carve a better world for children, hers and ours.
Does motherhood give us an occult power to be stronger than we are or does the power of love conquer all forces, both natural and supernatural?
Friday, May 1, 2009
My Heart Will Find Yours, A Time Travel
My Heart Will Find Yours, book one of the Turquoise Legacy by Linda LaRoque
The Wild Rose Press
ISBN-10: 1-60154-490-1
ISBN-13: 9781601544902
Release date: May 1, 2009
Print copy available at Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble.com, Books A Million.com and can be ordered by your local book store using the ISBN-10.
TEXANNA KEITH doesn’t believe an antique locket is the key to time travel, but plays along, and to her horror, is zapped back to 1880 Waco, Texas. Her mission is to prevent Royce Dyson’s death in a shootout. Wounded, she loses what she longs for most — a life with Royce.
Marshall ROYCE DYSON’S wife disappeared in 1876. Now she’s reappeared, claiming she’s a time traveler from the future. As he seeks the truth, he’s determined to keep Texanna with him, but it’s not destined to be.
Excerpt:
A woman’s scream and the grunts of men
fighting woke Royce. Maybe he’d been dreaming. But
no, there it was again. This time a man’s yowl split
the air.
As Royce hurried up the riverbank to town, Pete
rushed toward him, agitation evident in his every
move.
“Marshal, you gotta come quick.”
Royce quickened his step and wondered, what
now?
A large crowd gathered in front of Hans’ Saloon.
“Shoot her in the foot.” He recognized the
baritone immediately. It was Hans. “If you don’t,
she’s going to hurt someone else. I think she’s
already broke Jason’s arm.”
She? Royce broke into a run. What the hell was
going on? They’d never had a woman cause trouble
before.
A female resounded, “Don’t come any closer,
leave me alone.” She attempted to sound controlled,
but her voice became shriller with each word. But
still not at all like what he’d expect of a woman gone
wild.
Jason’s voice, filled with pain, broke through the
mumbling of the crowd. “Stop...stay back...she’s
scared. Royce will...be here...in a minute.” Jason’s
statement ended with a groan.
“Yeah, well I’m not going to let the Missus’ hurt
anyone else,” said Hans.
Royce shoved his way through the crowd. He
glanced quickly at Jason to see if he was breathing,
then turned to the woman the crowd had backed up
against the boardwalk in front of the saloon. Hans
eased behind her and quickly caught her under the
arms and locked his hands behind her head. Head
pushed forward, the woman fought to break Hans’
hold. She kicked backwards, but Hans lifted her off
the ground and swung her from side to side so her
feet couldn’t make contact.
“Hurry up, Marshal, get some cuffs on her. How
else you gonna get her home?”
A quick scan of the woman indicated she didn’t
have a weapon strapped to her side or in her hands.
His gaze moved from the unusual shoes she wore, up
indecently clad legs encased in denim pants. How
else could he describe it? When his eyes reached her
torso, his body jerked in response. Beautiful breasts
were fully outlined by a skintight blouse. Her
pebbled nipples showed through the thin, pink
fabric. His face burned with anger. It was downright
scandalous. No decent woman would dress so
provocatively. Then he noticed the flame-colored
curls. Hans eased his hold, and her head jerked up
toward him. His eyes met hers, and his heart
stopped. God, she’s beautiful. He looked at her face
again and thought he’d faint from sheer joy. His
bliss quickly turned to rage.
With a growl, he bit out, “Get your hands off my
wife.” At least, he thought it was his wife. The hair
was the same, but her eyes were bluer, her nose
thinner, and damned if she didn’t have kohl on her
eyebrows and lashes.
My Heart Will Find Yours will grip your heart and emotions and take you for a ride that will stay with you forever. Carrie Destler
Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d07IPSijkHQ
I hope you'll get your copy and let me know what you think about Royce and Texanna's journey.
Thanks for Reading!
Linda
Linda LaRoque ~ Western Romance with a Twist in Time.
Forever Faithful, Investment of the Heart 5-09, When the Ocotillo Bloom, 7-09, Champagne Books; A Law of Her Own, Desires of the Heart, My Heart Will Find Yours 5-09, Flames on the Sky 10-23-09 from TWRP.
http://www.lindalaroque.com/
http://lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com/