Meet Sir Sean Wilbrun from By Right of Blood!

I'm thrilled to have Lorrieann Russell at Tattered Pages today, who brings with her a peek inside her latest release "By Right of Blood"! Grab a cup of your favorite morning brew, settle in and meet Sir Sean Douglas Wilbrun. Take it away, Lorrieann!

My name is Lorrieann Russell and I am the author of my newly re-released novel, By Right of Blood.   William Fybrigge is the main character of the story but he does not occupy his world alone, of course. One of the many who populate the world of Drumoak Castle in my fictional rendering of Stonehaven, Scotland at the turn of the 17^th century is William’s closest friend and confidante, Sean Douglas Wilbrun. Without further ado, I give you Sir Sean.

~ * ~

Looking back on that day, I have to laugh. Not that it was particularly funny, but because I was so young yet thought I was a man just because Lord Edward clapped my shoulder with the rusted blade of my second-hand sword.  Lord Edward had a way to make the humble feel noble; always a kind and encouraging word to all who served him.  But make no mistake, he was the Duke and my sovereign, and I was bound by an oath of fealty to serve him with my very life — though I was proud and honored to do it.

I was willing and ready to die in the service of my duke if called upon to do so, so the humor lies in the task I was given on that first day of my knighthood. I was not called upon to prove my manhood or my loyalty, but to play nurse to a child who was sent to the castle for fostering. I say child, for that is what I saw when I found him for the first time, cowering under the straw in the barn.  He had the look more of a fawn lost among wolves than the son of a nobleman — which is what he truly was.  This lad came from one of the richest earls of Lord Edward’s duchy and yet he cowered, clad in tattered filthy garments, all eyes and — I know it sounds harsh — but without the common sense God gave a rock.

The lad was terrified! Of what? Drumoak? Lord Edward? Aye! He was afeared of the very place that would prove to be his salvation in time.  And upon my first day as a guard to the duke, I was asked to look after him — to remain a child for just a little longer.

I was reluctant, but an order is an order.  I had no idea that day would be the beginning of a lifelong friendship and bond.  It did not take long for me to come to know the lad, and see there was far more behind those wide eyes than fear.  I learned more than I could ever dream just standing with him, watching him, guiding him (or was he guiding me all that time?).

I served the duke with my honor as I had vowed — but my loyalty would be to my friend from there forward.

~ * ~

Thank you, Sean.  I look forward to the rest of your story.  It can be read in By Right of Blood, available at Amazon.com and other online booksellers.

Good night,
Lorrieann

Blurb:
William Fylbrigge is ill prepared to claim what is his, by right of blood, and his place among the powerful clan he has been born into. His older brother Thomas doesn’t want to share what he thinks is rightfully his, secretly arranging to have the young lad killed in a convenient “accident.” William could lose everything, including his life. 

Sean Wilbrun, the son of a common groomsman, transcends the barriers of his class and station when he is elevated to the esteemed ranks of guard for Lord Edward, Duke of Stonehaven. His first assignment, however, is not to wield a sword to protect his duke, but instead to attend to the newly arrived foster son. 

William and Sean soon form an unlikely duo and a lasting bond as together they face Thomas’ accusations of murder and treason. 

Author Bio:

Lorrieann Russell has written three books (so far) chronicling the life and times of William Fylbrigge: By Right of Blood, My Brother’s Keeper, and In the Wake of Ashes.  She has also published several short stories, and has been a featured guest on Edin Road Radio.  She is an accomplished artist, illustrator, photographer and designer.  A native New Englander, she spends much of her time in the mountains of New Hampshire, hiking and taking pictures of the landscape.

Author Contact and Websites
Home page: http://lorrieannrussell.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LorrieannRussell
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/LorrieannTweets
Email: lorrieann.russell@edinroad.com

Excerpt:

He leaned against the stall, scooping up a piece of hay to chew on, noticing a slight movement near the wall. He dropped down, sitting cross-legged with his back to the pile.

“Must have been some ride you had. I know the Causey Mounth road from Aberdoir can be quite a fright along the cliffs,” he said casually and paused to listen. The rustling stopped. “The ruts are so close to the edge, if the horse makes one bad step, och! ‘Tis fearsome. Is that what’s frightened you, lad? The road?” He risked a glance over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t blame you if it did. I surely don’t like riding Causey Mounth – especially after it’s rained like it has.”

Still no reply.

Frustrated, Sean idly scanned the barn until he spied a basket of early apples not far from where he was sitting. “You don’t mind if I do m’ chores? I need t’ feed the horses, you see.” He stood and scooped up a couple of apples and headed to the first stall occupied by an animal. “This is Hawk. He’s a yearling. Not quite broken yet but he’ll be a fine mount one day.” He pulled a sharp dirk from his belt and sliced one apple in half, holding one half flat-palmed for the horse. “I’m hoping he’ll be mine. He suits me.” Another glance over his shoulder and he caught sight of a pair of wide green eyes peeking through the straw. There you are. Papa’s right, you do have big eyes. He moved to the next stall.

“This one is Ceres. No one has ridden him yet. He’s full of fire, this one.” He stroked the horse’s nose, then offered the other half of the apple. “Do you like horses?”

The straw moved slightly and Sean could see an entire face now. Small and staring, the boy looked no more than eight years old. I thought Edward said he was twelve?

Sean gave him a smile in greeting, then turned his attention back to the horse. “There’re more to feed; would you like to help?”

The boy did not answer but Sean saw him peek out a little more, looking toward the other stalls. He sliced another apple and moved down. “Hello, Gallant, are you hungry? Aye, I see you are. There’s plenty … there you are.”

A moment later, Sean felt someone standing close behind him. He did not turn but kept to his task of feeding the horses. When he’d run out of apples with two horses left to feed, he turned to reach into the basket for more. Instead, he found the lad holding out an apple with one hand. Sean smiled and took it from him, slicing it in half. “Thank you.”

The boy nodded, then stood back, half concealing himself behind a post. Sean fed one half of the apple to the horse in the stall, then held out the other half toward William. “Star may like this one.”

William stared at the apple, then up to Sean, then back to the apple.

“Go on, she won’t hurt you. Just hold it like this, with your palm flat.”

William took it and held it to the filly in the stall he stood next to. She nickered and chomped it down, shaking her mane in gratitude. Sean saw William’s eyes widen and the trace of a smile cross his face. He also noticed something else – ghastly purple marks encircling his fragile looking wrists. He quickly averted his sight, so as not to startle the lad. He’s been bound! Good God. What am I dealing with here?

“She likes it,” William whispered.

Sean forced a smile, somewhat shaken by the dark hollows under William’s eyes when the lad turned to look at him. “Would you like to give her another one?” he asked, making an effort to keep his tone as gentle as possible.

Just as William was about to answer, there came voices from outside. It was Laurel speaking to Arthur. William spun on his heel and, without warning, dove back into the hay.

“Lad … wait, there’s nothing to …” Sean stopped and gasped at the sight before him. He hadn’t seen the boy’s back before now and he stopped, astonished. The shirt was flayed open in crimson-stained shreds, the flesh beneath caked in dried blood. He stood for a moment, not finding anything to say to the boy but knowing something needed to be done. Sean turned and headed toward the door. He’d have to let Edward know what he’d seen, and to let him know that he’d have to wait a while longer to meet his new foster son.          

Reviews

Author Lorrieann Russell has used great imagination and artistic creativity in By Right of Blood. Her talent shines through the characters she has so lovingly created and this talent spills over into the world of the reader, allowing them to walk with the characters through the streets of the market, to the cliffs above the ocean. Feel their fear as they run through the woods, and into the meadows escaping hunters and those that would do them harm, only to prevail in the end. Experience their happiness and their sorrows, as they fight to make their mark in the world surrounding them.

I give By Right of Blood five stars *****

Nora Chipley Barteau
Reviewers Helping Authors

http://norachipleybarteau.blogspot.com/

* * *

A real page turner, this novel captures you from beginning to end. You seem to become part of the adventure as you join the characters on their journey. Russell's descriptions of places and characters make it easy to picture these things as you read. I absolutely loved this novel and look forward to anymore work by this wonderful and talented author. If you have not read By Right of Blood by Lorrieann Russell, I strongly suggest you pick up a copy. This book is full of drama, action, romance. All the things that are needed to make a wonderful work of Fiction for readers to enjoy. An excellent novel. I won't hesitate to read anything with Lorrieann Russell on the cover.

J. M. Barfield
Reader review

* * *

There is one essential element that stories must have in order for me to be fascinated. They must have a conflict. I can honestly say that Lorrieann has succeeded here.  The conflict was immediate. Right from the beginning in the first two pages I knew I was going to read all the way to the end. By the time 10 pages had passed, I was emotionally bonded to the characters. When you can step into a story and consider someone your brother or sister, the author has done their job. I would recommend this book to anyone high school and above.

Linda Horne

www.ebookitreviews.com

IT'S ALMOST TIME FOR THAT DATING THING!!

I cannot even tell you what a thrill it is for me to have Mackenzie Crowne at Tattered Pages today, with her latest up-and-coming release THAT DATING THING! I was given the ultimate pleasure of working with Mac on this story, and honestly I can't wait until she blesses me with another manuscript. Hurry up, Mac!!! I need MORE!!! THAT DATING THING releases this month from Still Moments Publishing, but if you leave her a comment, your name will be entered into the drawing for your very own FREE copy. Don't miss out! This story is laugh out loud hilarious. But enough of my gabbing... Please join me in welcoming one of the most talented authors I know!!! Yay! Take it away, Mac!

Whoot! Bells and whistles, and some happy dancing, too. My contemporary romance, THAT DATING THING, is about to hit the virtual shelves!

Can you tell I’m excited? I can’t help myself. As a storyteller, I can honestly say, I’ve never enjoyed the writing process so much. Shhh. Don’t tell the characters from my other stories because I wouldn’t want their feelings hurt, but these characters took me along on a fun-filled ride I didn’t want to see end. Rylee is a woman with whom I can see myself swilling martinis.

*AJ says, me too! Oh! Can I come? Can I? Can I?*

Coop simply makes my heart sigh, and as for Pippin? Oh yeah. I definitely see a Great Dane in my future. The thought of one jammed into my Jeep wrangler, tongue hanging out as we explore the backroads of the southwest, brings a wide smile to my face.

Yeah, I’m a goof, but I’m a goof on cloud 9! And I’m thrilled to be visiting with AJ today. She’s earned my undying appreciation, you see. *winks at AJ, the best damn editor ever* She saw something in THAT DATING THING and put her nose to the grindstone to help polish and prepare my lighthearted, romantic romp in the midst of Wall Street greed for publication. Working with AJ was not only educational, but a frigging blast as well. I can’t thank her enough for sharing her incredible editorial prowess with a relative newbie. But enough about my literary crush…

*AJ blushes. Do you now see why I love this woman? Geesh! And what Mac isn't telling you is that honestly, the pleasure was all mine. *

Who the heck would think to combine Wall Street greed and lighthearted romance, you ask? A news junkie who loves a fun contemporary romance. That’s who. The Bernie Madoff scandal fascinated me from day one. I mean, who the hell did this guy think he was? Like dictators around the world, who narcissistically believe they have the right to run the lives of others, and think nothing of using brutality to convince non-believers to go along with their delusions of grandeur, the Wall Street financier brutalized his investor’s hard won portfolios, treating them like his own personal piggy bank. Okay, so my comparison is a bit of a stretch. Unlike a dictator’s victims, Bernie’s investors were somewhat complicit in their brutalization. Apparently they chose to ignore the old saying: If something appears too good to be true, it probably is. Still, families were destroyed by Bernie’s crimes, including his own, and they were the inspiration for THAT DATING THING.

I personally have no experience with criminal tendencies in my own family. My dad was the most ethical man I’ve ever met. Let’s face it, a man who marches his four year old back to the corner store to return a pilfered piece of bubble gum (No, it wasn’t me. I’ve always been too much of a weenie to steal anything.) would never even consider lining his pockets through a ponzi scheme. But for the innocent children of those who would, what must life be like? Rylee Pierce, the heroine of THAT DATING THING, is one of those innocents.

Continuously painted with a guilty brush, thanks to her father’s notoriety, Rylee does what any rational woman would do. She changes her identity, starts up a dog training business, and learns to fly beneath society’s radar. Boring! Well crap. We can’t have that! Dictators and ponzi schemers aren’t the only ones who believe they have the right to control the lives of others. Authors do it all the time through their writings. I’m no different, and I love nothing better than shaking up my character’s lives through laughter.
Enter one long legged, exuberant Great Dane, an inheritance sure to piss off Rylee’s father’s victims, and a sexy, assistant district attorney with political ambitions, and what have you got? Love, laughter, and romance. Three of my most favorite things. Here is an excerpt:

 Rylee reacted to Coop’s suggestive comment exactly as he expected. She blinked and a tiny frown creased her brow. Whenever the conversation veered toward anything even remotely personal, she either fell back on that sarcastic wit she’d perfected or she retreated into silence. Like now.

Curious contradictions lurked beneath the carefree, lighthearted image she projected. She’d dismissed his show of interest, along with his invitation to meet his friends, and yet he caught her watching him several times during dinner, her eyes full of feminine awareness. Her aunt’s matchmaking annoyed her, but she smiled and teased him, including him in the family camaraderie around the table.

Confusion trumped wariness in her eyes now. He’d thrown her off-balance. Good. Since meeting her the other day, she’d been popping into his head with annoying regularity. Why should he be alone in his madness?

He’d been anxious to see her again, telling himself he’d imagined the unprecedented sexual pull he’d experienced for Elliott’s step-daughter, step-cousin—step-whatever. His imagination was in play, all right. From the moment he’d seen her again, he’d envisioned her in a number of different situations. She’d been naked in all of them.

And he wasn’t the only one experiencing the pull. Those flashes of feminine awareness in her dark-chocolate eyes broadcast her attraction to him, an attraction she evidently planned to ignore. He’d see about that. He hadn’t earned his reputation as a successful prosecutor by backing away from a difficult case, and the beautiful dog trainer was a case he meant to crack.

He turned away and wandered further into the room. Pippin trotted at his side.

“So, this is The Canine Academy?” He eyed the cages. “Where are your other students?”

A soft release of pent up breath reached his ears and he smiled. Yes, off balance was just how he wanted her.

“Gone for the day.”

“Why is Pippin still here?”

“Pippin required a more intense program. He’s our only boarder at the moment.”

“Have dinner with me,” he said, without turning around. She didn’t answer and he waited several beats before glancing over his shoulder. Her eyes shuttered, she fell back on sarcasm.

“We just finished dinner. What do you have, a tapeworm?”

He faced her. “I’d like to take you to dinner, Rylee.”

Her hand went to Belle’s head beside her and she jutted her chin up a notch. “That wouldn’t be a good idea, Coop.”

“Why? I’m attracted to you, and a man can tell when the attraction is mutual.”

She said nothing, returning his gaze while she scratched the fur between Belle’s ears.

“It’s just a meal.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not suggesting we jet off to Vegas.”

She snorted softly. “That’s a relief. Casinos give me a headache.”

The dry sarcasm made him smile. She hadn’t said no.

“Look, you’re a great-looking guy.”

He flashed a grin, pleased when her lips twitched in response.

“And I admit you have a certain amount of charm.”

“But?”

“But, your father is married to my aunt.”

“Your mother’s cousin,” he corrected. He dropped his arms to his sides and stepped toward her. “And Dad and Silvia can get their own dinner.”

Her lips formed a genuine smile, but she shook her head. “People rarely come out of this kind of thing on friendly terms.”

“This kind of thing?” He continued to advance.

“We’re connected through Sil and Elliott. I don’t want to see them caught in the middle when this…dating thing, or whatever it is you’re after, ends.”

“This dating thing?”

“Or whatever it is you’re after,” she repeated. As he closed the distance, she stepped back and bumped up against the shark cage. She slapped her spread fingers against his chest to prevent him from coming any closer. “I’m not in the market for a relationship right now.”

“Then we don’t have a problem, because neither am I.” He brushed a fingertip over the perfect skin of her cheekbone. “So, here’s what I suggest.”

Her eyelids fluttered, pupils dilating, and reluctant temptation replaced the wariness in her dark orbs. Still, she kept a defensive hand on his chest.

“If you insist on negotiating when I’ve already explained my concerns,” she said, holding his gaze, “I’d rather you didn’t touch me.”

He checked the urge to kiss her at the artless admission of finding his touch disturbing. Instead, he moved his hand to the cage beside her head. He wrapped his fingers around the metal bar and dipped his head, bringing his face closer to hers. She blinked but held her ground, boldly meeting his gaze.

“I propose we get to know one another,” he pressed. “A few dinners. Maybe a show, or a ball game or two if you like. We find out what makes each other tick.”

“Hmmm.” Her mouth moved into a smirk. “Five seconds ago you were talking a meal. Now it’s a few dinners and a ball game or two. At this rate we’ll be jetting off to Vegas by the end of the week.”

She didn’t try to stop him when he took the final step that brought their bodies within inches of each other. “Has anyone ever accused you of being a wiseass?”

Head cocked as though considering the question, her mouth quivered on a smile. “Nope.”

“How about a liar?”

She lost the battle with the smile and her low laugh sent a lash of desire whipping across his midsection. He did what he’d wanted to do since arriving at his father’s condo days ago. Leaning in, he took...

I’ll be giving away a free e-copy of THAT DATING THING to one lucky commenter. As for the rest of you, I hope you’ll pick up a copy, and that you’ll enjoy reading Rylee’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thanks so much for visiting with me today. I love meeting new friends. You can find me at my web home MackenzieCrowne.com Twitter and Facebook

Mac

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING HERE TODAY, MAC! I LOVES YA', BABE! And for our visitors, don't forget to leave a comment for the chance to win a copy of THAT DATING THING! WHOOT!

XO AJ XO

Welcome fellow Contemporary Western Author, Paty Jager!!

I'm thrilled to welcome award-winning author Paty Jager to Tattered Pages, who brings an intriguing post offering a peek inside her world beyond the pages of her books! And don't forget to leave a comment, because she's graciously offered to send a $5 Amazon e-card to one lucky visitor!
Take it away, Paty!!

How my world shapes my writing

I’ve dabbled in different venues of writing over the course of my lifetime. First as a child writing plays for stuffed animals, then at thirteen writing stories of love and lust that my friends and I passed back and forth—adding scenes, to witnessing what words can do when an English teacher read one of my assigned fiction projects to the class, all the way through writing children’s stories for my kids, writing murder mystery when I wanted to kill someone (killed that person off in two manuscripts), writing for the local paper when it fit my lifestyle, and then to settle into historical western romance only to find myself still drawn to mystery/action adventure writing.

Each stage of my writing had to do with what was going on in and around me at the time so it only makes sense that I find myself writing about history—American History, specifically the 1800s has always been my favorite subject. I love museums, historical sites, and finding bits of history that were so integral to life when this country was spreading and growing.

I think having grown up in a semi-isolated part of the state that was slow to get technology brought out the pioneer spirit in me. Until I was twelve, my paternal grandparents lived with us. There were seven people in a three-bedroom, one-bath farmhouse. We had a woodshed where we chopped kindling and stored the wood for the cookstove. When we did get an electric range we still had a wood heating stove and used the wood cookstove when the power went out—which was fairly often. When the power went out we used kerosene and oil lamps, the outhouse, and hauled buckets of water to the house from the ditch. Looking back, it was usually in the winter that the power went out. And on many occasions the pipes from the well to the house froze, and we had to haul water to the house.

My family had a small herd of dairy cows and used an old hand crank separator to separate the milk from the cream. We used the milk for ourselves and the hogs we raised. We made our own butter from the cream and sold the rest to the creamery. We raised 100 chickens every year, butchering all but thirty, which were laying hens. I hated the smell of the wet feathers after I dunked them in the boiling water to loosen the feathers. And disemboweling them and cutting them up—I’d always offer to fold clothes, clean the bathroom, or whatever other chore I could think of, than spend hours smelling the feathers and butchered chickens. My grandmother sold extra eggs to neighbors and the local grocery store.

These are all events in my life that easily happened in the era of the historical westerns I write. I can feel the continuous heat of the woodstove, hear the clank of the metal plates as grandma put more kindling in the fire. Smell the acrid smoke that slipped through the chimney that went through my bedroom.  I more or less lived the life I write about in my historical westerns.

And now, ranching with my husband, I've encountered many of the obstacles that I write about in my contemporary westerns.

And I grew up in the land of Chief Joseph's Nez Perce band and have always had a fascination for them and believe I saw an apparition of a Nez Perce warrior one summer day while riding my horse in the mountains. That moment has stuck with me and I believe that to be the catalyst that pushed me to write the spirit trilogy.

Now, I’m drawn to action/adventure and mystery stories. I believe the mystery comes from the fact that as I age I wonder more and more about why people do what they do and find the reasons behind the good and bad things they do intriguing, and this sets my mind up to want to write mysteries for others to unravel. The action/adventure stories allow me to live vicariously through my characters and visit, even if only through research, places I’ve wondered about.

If you are a writer, what shaped the genre you write? If you are a reader, what is your favorite genre to read and why? I’ll pick a name from the comments and send the winner a $5 Amazon egift card.

Wife, mother, grandmother, and the one who cleans pens and delivers the hay; award winning author Paty Jager and her husband currently ranch 350 acres when not dashing around visiting their children and grandchildren. She not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it.

Her Contemporary Western, Perfectly Good Nanny won the 2008 Eppie for Best Contemporary Romance, Spirit of the Mountain, a historical paranormal set among the Nez Perce, garnered 1^st place in the paranormal category of the Lories Best Published Book Contest, and Spirit of the Lake, the second book of the spirit trilogy, was a finalist in the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence.

You can learn more about Paty at her blog; www.patyjager.blogspot.com  her website; http://www.patyjager.net or on Facebook; https://www.facebook.com/#!/paty.jager and twitter;  @patyjag.

Thank you so much for visiting with me today, Paty! I love your photo...so, so pretty. And everyone else, don't forget to leave a comment to be entered into the draw for a $5 Amazon e-card!

XO AJ XO 

Save a Kitty, Keep a Tale

Lionesses and felines in Egypt

Lynxes, leopards, tigers and cheetahs, cougars and jaguars, lions and the common house cat are all members of the Felidae family. :)

In ancient Egypt, both cats and lions were revered.

While the Egyptians chose the cat to represent the love goddess Bast, the fierce lioness shared her nature and her features with the goddess Sekhmet. Just as a cat stalks an unsuspecting mouse (or whatever catches its fancy), the lioness could stalk a stray Egyptian should he or she become lost within the lioness’ territory. Lions roamed the outlying areas of the desert, and it is said they charged with the pharaohs into battle. (1) The Egyptians thought the animals so fierce, the weather might shy away. Lion sculptures were even set at the pinnacle of temples, gargoyle-like, to guard against lightning.

In their pantheon, the lioness was a protector and companion to the god Ra. She accompanied him on his daily journey across the sky in his sun chariot. So, it was to Sekhmet Ra turned when he needed to teach humanity a lesson. In turn, she went on a rampage that nearly annihilated civilization. Ra mixed a sleeping draught with blood and pomegranate juice and tricked his daughter into drinking it. Whatever the recipe, the drink did the trick and calmed her wrath. (2) To this day, festivals are performed in summer to—hopefully—keep the ;) kitty satisfied. Revelries filled with laughter, with dancing, and...beer.

This is the basis for my story What Sekhmet Keeps presented in Dark Things II: Cat Crimes

And don’t forget, all proceeds from Dark Things II: Cat Crimes will be donated to The Cat House on The Kings, a no-kill cat shelter in California. For more information, see their website at: http://www.cathouseonthekings.com/

A collection of tales featuring feline mayhem, murder and dastardly deeds. Vampire cats. Scoundrel cats. Daring cats. Killer cats. Cats you don't want in your worst nightmares and cats you might want on your side against evil. Authors include Mary V. Welk, Patty G. Henderson, Patricia Harrington, Jim Silvestri, Ken Goldman, Shanna Germain, Anna Sykora and dozens more. Intro by Robert W. Walker. All proceeds from sales go to several cat sanctuaries across the USA. Enjoy over twenty-one “cat tales” and support a cat charity!

Sources:
(1)   http://www.touregypt.net/featurestories/lions.htm
(2) http://www.orderwhitemoon.org/goddess/Sekhmet.html

Buy links: Amazon for Kindle and paperback Lulu (for Epub version)

And now for sneak peek inside

What Sekhmet Keeps

by J.D. Revezzo

Betrayed by a false lover, cat shifter priestess Onfalia Mau lost her lioness soul and freedom to her lover's treachery and the testy goddess Sekhmet's wrath. Now, after three thousand years, that lover, Donkar, has returned with one thing in mind—to steal the goddess's scepter. Onfalia knows that to do so means to unleash Sekhmet’s unholy, bloody Slaughter on the world, and she'll stop at nothing to foil Donkar's plans.

Excerpt: 

Claws dimpled his skin, as if she sought attention. She nuzzled her head into his hand and purred.

Chibale tapped her on the nose. “Now, don’t try to charm me, kitty. I can’t keep you. Out.”

She purred louder and nuzzled his chest.

“Oh, hell.” He carried the cat into the kitchen and poured her the last of his milk. “I don’t mind black coffee, anyway. But tomorrow, we’re finding your owner.”

He dropped his jacket onto the chair then sat down before his computer. The cat leapt onto the desk as he went to work. When he misspelled the goddess’ name, the cat reached out a paw and hit the delete key back to the S-e-k. Chibale stared at her. “Did you belong to an English teacher?”

The search engine suggested Sekhmet and he carried on with his work.

The cat slipped into his lap as he read the first promising page.

Goddess of Lions. A daughter of Ra; represented the scorching power of the sun.

“Lion. Sun.” He shook his head. “Never did understand these stupid stories. ‘When mankind rebelled against Ra’s domain, Sekhmet attacked, slaughtering thousands and drinking their blood.’ Sounds like a nice wholesome girl.” The cat shifted in his lap and stretched up, resting her paws against the edge of the keyboard. “You’re so interested in mythology, should I give you to Onfalia?”

She looked at him and he scratched her ears as he returned to his search.

Scepter, Sekhmet. “How does this tie into the stolen scepter? Any idea, kit?”

Two hours into his search, a headline caught his attention: Slaying Uptown. Occult in Nature?

“So obvious.” The cat meowed and Chibale looked down at her, meeting her tawny eyes. “Oh, you think so too, do you?”

Festival to appease Sekhmet’s slaughter.

“Hopefully they won’t do the opposite, eh kitty?”

There you are. I hope you enjoy this fabulous anthology. J

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING HERE TODAY, J.D.! AND FOR GIVING US THE INFORMATION ABOUT THIS COLLECTION OF STORIES AND HOW THE PROCEEDS GO TOWARD THIS VERY WORTHY CAUSE!

XO AJ XO

I'm Mad at All Y'all!

So I sit down to watch a Friday night feature last night,
and what do I find?

BAM!

Henry Cavill as Theseus in the movie Immortals.

YOU ARE ALL SOOOOOO GROUNDED!

How come no one told me? I don't have cable.
I don't get to watch Tudors.

AND HOW COME NO ONE TOLD ME HENRY IS SLATED

TO PLAY THE NEW SUPERMAN!

I thought we were friends...but apparently not!

Evidently when it comes to delicious hunks of man candy,

everyone suddenly has amnesia!

I've a good mind to give you all

a sound spanking!

Fine.

If that's the way you want it...

meet Caedmon Austiere,

hero and warrior prince in my Golden Key Series

And I'm not sharing...so there!

And just in case you were curious...

here's a mock-up of the cover for Book I in the series...

Rowena's Key

Designed by the beautiful and talented Arial Burnz

You can leave a comment,

but quite frankly I don't know if I'm speaking to any of you

EVER again...

Love Potion Me, Baby! A Letter From Suzanne Rose!

Tattered Pages welcomes Suzanne Rose, the heroine from Love Potion Me, Baby! the latest, fabulous release from Amie Louellen! I was lucky enough to receive the following letter from Suzanne, who shares with us a little bit about her story and the delicious Brice Van Sant! Please do leave us a comment. I heard Suzanne may take a break from her busy schedule to stop by for a visit! In the meantime, here's a little bit more about her...

                                            

A Letter From Suzanne Rose

 
Is it wrong to believe in fairy tales? I don’t think so. I grew up hearing stories of handsome princes and snowy white steeds. But I had almost given up on ever finding the man made just for me until I met Brice Van Sant.

Multi-millionaire, sullen attitude, fabulous kisser, Brice is definitely in the prince category, but it’s more complicated than that.

I guess I’d better start at the beginning. I was visiting my sister at her job. Christy works for Johnston Carmichael Pharmaceuticals which just so happens to be Brice’s family business.  I’d brought Christy a bottle of my homemade herbal shampoos.

How was I supposed to know Brice would drink it? And I definitely had no idea it would act as a love potion. So how was I to know that his proposal was made in a drug altered haze? He swept me off my feet. So of course, I’d thought I’d found my own true prince. And I married him. Except the next day he couldn’t remember my name, much less that we’d gotten married. And that’s when my handsome prince turned into a toad.

And it got even worse. He decided that he needed the formula for his company and didn’t believe that I never write them down. Brice is nothing but persistent and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse—stay married to him and pretend to be happily married while I recover the shampoo’s ingredients, or he’d fire my sister. Big, fat toad.

I learned a lot about Brice in those first few weeks. And the man I thought was an ogre turned out to be a man with dreams and desires just like the rest of us. Except Brice’s dreams had been crushed long ago. He said he didn’t believe in love, but I couldn’t let it go there. After all, I was half in love with him even before we met.

Now I only have until I discover all the shampoo’s ingredients to make him see that love truly is a chance worth taking. And with any luck, I won’t lose my heart to him forever. Not only to the Brice that everyone sees, but to the wonderful prince he really is.

—Suzanne

Okay, y'all, here's the blurb and the excerpt!!

Suzanne Rose never intended for Brice Van Sant to drink a cup of her homemade herbal shampoo.  And she certainly didn’t expect an impromptu marriage proposal from the hunky CEO.

After an incredible wedding night, Brice wakes unable to remember his bride’s name or why he proposed.

Too late they realize the bright blue shampoo is responsible. Almost like...a love potion!

Brice doesn’t believe in love. But as chief executive of the area’s largest pharmaceutical company, he needs that formula. He strong-arms Suzanne into reproducing it for him, demanding that she pretend they are happily married until it's recovered.

As Suzanne struggles to remember the shampoo’s ingredients and forget their perfect wedding night, she finds herself falling for her husband. Can she convince Brice that love is a chance worth taking before she loses her heart to him forever?

~ * ~

She smiled, and Brice felt the warmth go straight through him. She had a home-town, girl-next-door look that somehow made a man forget things he was better off remembering. Like the promises Brice had made to himself when his father left. Like the fact that if he made love to Suzanne again it would be disastrous for everyone involved.

Let her go, his internal voice commanded.

Brice’s legs started to move, his feet taking step after step until he reached her side.

“I had fun,” she replied.

Tell her goodnight. And walk away.

“You’re a natural,” he said instead. “You should play more often.”

“Maybe I will."

He could see questions in her eyes, questions he didn’t want to answer.

            Without permission from his brain, his hand reached up and loosened the towel covering her hair. Damp, copper-colored curls, sprang free from their confinement and bounced across his fingers. “Maybe you will,” he repeated.

Turn away. And whatever you do, don’t kiss her.

“Tell me to stop,” Brice demanded in a husky whisper as his head lowered closer and closer toward her luscious mouth. “Tell me.”

           "I can’t,” she said and raised her lips to meet his.

Brice could no more prevent the kiss than he could re-route the sun. The caress was destiny or fate or serendipity. Kismet. It was out of his control. Never before had anything taken such complete command of his mind and body. Nothing except for a cup of blue shampoo and its redheaded maker who haunted his every waking moment.

Amie loves nothing more than a good book.  Except for her family…and maybe homemade tacos…and shoes.  But reading and writing are definitely high on the list. Fun and contemporary, whimsical and sexy Amie’s novels are true love stories with a guaranteed happy ending. Born and bred in Mississippi, Amie is a transplanted Southern Belle who now lives in Oklahoma with her deputy husband, their genius son, a spoiled cat, and one very hyper beagle. When she's not creating quirky characters and happy endings, she’s chauffeuring her prodigy to  little league baseball games, guitar lessons, and boy scout meetings. She also loves gardening, cross stitching, and generally anything that can get her out of housework.

  Amie is a member of RWA and an award winning author. You can reach her at amielouellen@gmail.com. Website & blog www.amielouellen.com On Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/pages/AmieLouellenAuthor or Twitter @AmieLouellen (https://twitter.com/?iid=am-86526363013334055132738605&nid=23+

following_user&uid=243170261&utm_content=profile#!/AmieLouellen)

Love Potion Me, Baby by Amie Louellen

Available now from the Wild Rose Press

www.thewildrosepress.com / www.amazon.com / www.barnesandnoble.com

Brenda's Bountiful Releases

Hey All! Brenda Whiteside is with us today, and brought with her a quick peek inside her three recent releases! After reading these blurbs, I'm adding them ALL to my TBR pile. Thanks for being here today, Brenda!

First up on the docket:

HONEY ON WHITE BREAD

When seventeen-year-old Claire Flanagan is wrenched from her father and deposited at the Good Shepherd’s Home for Wayward Girls, all dreams for Hollywood stardom are lost. But when twenty-year-old Benjamin Russell helps secure her release, she starts to believe in a happy future with him…until she discovers his ex-girlfriend is pregnant.

In this post WWII coming of age novel, Claire discovers the silver screen can’t compare with the fight she takes on for the leading role in her own life.

“I’ve never snuck into a theater before. Sneaking into a dark theater with Arnold …” Paulie laughed. “Are you sure this isn’t supposed to be a date?” Paulie appeared at once timid and suspicious.

“I’m sure. He’s getting me … us in to see a movie for free. Dick Hames! He’s so dreamy.”

“Arnold’s dreamy.”

“You know, Paulie, Arnold is a dear friend …”

“Oh, pooh, Claire.” Paulie batted at my skirt.

“Okay, okay, a special friend. We haven’t made any promises to each other or anything. He’s cute, he’s fun … but …”

“But what?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” A hint of guilt over the difference between how I felt about Arnold compared to how he felt about me passed like the breeze drifting over the porch boards. His were childish whims of infatuation, pushy, uninvited. “It’s kind of hard to explain…” I toyed with the folds of my skirt. If most of the girls at North High were stuck on Arnold, a great catch I didn’t appreciate, then I wished my best friend could change places with me. If only …

“Hey, ladies.” The blur of a male figure in jeans had ascended the porch steps, not pausing to pass pleasantries.

He opened the screen door and stepped into the house. Benjamin. My second encounter brought on an unexplained reaction; my heart pattered even though I’d barely caught a glimpse.

“Oh, hey, Ben,” Paulie said. “You look tired, big brother.”

Her words stopped him. “Little bit.” He paused behind the screen door.

“This is Claire.”

He tipped his head to me. “Nice to meet you, Claire.” He continued on into the house.

 “Same here,” I muttered as the screen door shut.

“Now, where were we?” Paulie put a finger to her mouth.

I looped an arm through my friend’s. “We were going to see if your momma could use some help. Come on.” I pulled her from the seat. “Let’s help then freshen up before dinner.”

We let the screen door slam behind us and turned into the kitchen in time to see Benjamin lift his mother from the floor and spin around twice.

“You stop that, Benjamin Willis. Man or no, I can take a hand to your hide, if I need to.” Her hands flailed gently at his chest.

He laughed as he set her down, steadying her before letting go. Taut muscles on the back of his arms flexed with the effort; his deep laugh filled the kitchen. I couldn’t help being drawn into this entirely pleasant scene, comical and radiating warmth, inviting me to take part in their joy. His mother snatched a dishtowel from the counter and swiped at his legs.

“Hold off now. I give, I give.” He withdrew what appeared to be a check from his back pocket.

Mrs. Russell accepted the paper without comment and stuffed it into the frayed pocket of her red checked apron. He kissed her on the forehead, took the bottle of beer she offered him, and leaving the kitchen, nodded in my direction.

I sniffed the sweat of hard work and the yeasty smell of beer as he passed by. My head reeled for a moment with the warmth of the kitchen and the people within, combined with the essence of what I labeled man.

Oh man that one sounds good. I already love Benjamin. LOL Honey On White Bread is available from Melange Books or on Amazon.

And now for something a little more...racy? Vroom, vroommm...

TATTOOS, LEATHER & STUDS

Rachael suspects her date, Jason, is a drug dealer, and she’s torn between her attraction for this hot bad boy and running for safety. But a famous rock star vying for her attention and spiked champagne pose far more trouble. On a blind date she’ll never forget, Rachael learns first impressions can lead her down a dangerous path and straight into the arms of love.

Could this room get any thicker with sweaty, grinding bodies?

The bass blasting out of the speakers on stage reverberated in Rachael’s chest. This had to be unhealthy for her body’s natural electrical impulses.

The rapacious drumming coming from the guy standing at the table next to her grew louder by the minute. Did he think he’d come to a concert or a drum competition? He threw his whole body into his efforts, and she could barely avoid rubbing hips with the man while trying to not bump into her date on her other side.

Rubbing hips with her date would be perfectly fine. Thigh to thigh would be better considering his legs. But they barely knew each other’s names and at this point, good legs or not, his choice of venue and his image still had her wary. Rachael planted her feet firmly, but one particularly hard shove from behind, by a guy trying to dance his way to the bar, sent her sideways into her date giving him full knowledge of her breast size and resulted in a flirtatious smile.

Jason leaned in close, his mouth dampening her earlobe with his words. “I hope you like crowds. Truthfully, I wasn’t prepared for this.”

She could barely hear him above the noise. Practically shouting, she asked, “No? What were you expecting?”

“Something a bit more intimate.”

His emphasis on intimate sent goose bumps between her thighs. Rachael raised one foot and then the other; her high heels cramped her feet. She glanced sideways at the tattoos on her date’s forearms. Her scan included his biceps. He had nice arms, but what did all those strange symbols mean? There were so many of them. She could hear Shelly—Loosen up girl. Stuffy Mark had you in a five-year rut. How true. She used to know how to have fun. Her gaze drifted around the room and back to Jason. But the world changed while she was holed up with stay-at-home Mark.

Jason shifted his arm on the table, muscles and tattoos flexing. Her heart thumped. Had she accepted a date with a bad boy? Could this be her sister’s attempt at pumping up the volume on her otherwise boring life?

His mouth grazed her ear again. “I’m glad you’re with me. Makes the crowd bearable.” He pulled away and smiled, one of those mouth and eye smiles that smacks of sincerity.

Her heart thumped again, obviously telling her something her head couldn’t.

Another bump and this time their contact lasted, Jason’s leg brushing between her thighs. Definitely nice firm thighs. Did he do that on purpose? She didn’t move away. Why was her mind telling her one thing and her body another?

All the way to the theater he couldn’t quit raving over their good fortune—invitation only, small venue, pre-concert show available because of his business contacts. His rant sounded nervous, but he smelled so sensual in his Halston Cologne and smiled so charmingly. And he could talk intelligently about Lautrec. He’d said more than once that he’d been happy she’d agreed to a blind date.

Muscular thighs and Halston—apparently her sister knew what tempted her.

At the break, the decibels dropped to the tolerable roar of the black vinyl crowd. He ran his hand along her spine from her neck to her waist. “Would you like a beer?” Her ink-stained escort screamed louder than necessary in her ear then looked regretful at his faux pas.

            She nodded her head, the tingle of his fingertips leaving her speechless so she forgave the eardrum assault. The crowd noise made talking difficult anyway, she reasoned.

            His mouth stayed by her ear, his breath tickled her lobe and his fingertips slipped off the edge of her dress and onto the bare skin between her shoulder blades. She caught her breath at the subtly worded, “One more set.” With that he pushed through the crowd.

            She glanced toward the bar, caught a glimpse of that gorgeous profile. After the show, she could decide whether to beg off for the rest of the evening or not.

HELLO! Give me a dangerous, tattoed, hot guy any day! Whoot! Tattoos, Leather and Studs is available from Melange Books, All Romance Ebooks, or Amazon.  

Or maybe your tastes defer to something a little more short and sweet? Like  the Warm Christmas Wishes Anthology perhaps?

AN ELFIN SECRET

When five-year-old Candace Cane questions why her father, Henry is an absent parent, her mother is speechless. But when Candace learns Daddy is an Elf named Santa Clause, life becomes magical…until Mommy dies and Henry and Santa cease to exist.

In this Christmas fantasy, Candace discovers magic lies within her heart and she’s never far from her mother or her father.

“You never tire of your picture book, do you? That’s probably the best present your father, Henry, ever gave you.” She stood over me gazing at the book.

Her warm hand glided down my cheek, and I looked at her. “Do you miss him, Mommy?”

“Miss him?” She sat at the foot of my bed.

There must have been a time when Henry did more in this house than drop off presents. Somehow they must have spent a lot of time together, I thought, or I wouldn’t be there. “Like when you were together?”

“Were? Candace you talk as if in the past. Your father is always with us.”

“Not really.”

She looked confused. “Yes, always. He’s always here, in a way, and at other times in another way. Not in the sense Sarah’s father is or…or… Oh! Candace, I seem to be short on words.”

“Why do you call him Henry?”

She tilted her head, her blue eyes grew gray. “Candace you ask the most unusual questions.” She stood. The stone expression I remembered from a few years back flickered across her face. My heart thumped and I rose to my knees, but before I could apologize, tell her never mind, her blue eyes twinkled and the color came back to her face. “Your father is a very special father. Which makes you a very special person. Oh, if only I were so special. But he loves me. What we share is…” She waved a hand in the air.

“You don’t know you’re special, Mommy?”

She sat closer to me this time. “I’m different. You’re still a little too young to understand. Although I have to say, you’ve always been wiser than you should be. You’ve always been wise, and I’ve always been different. I crossed a bridge one night on Christmas nearly eleven years ago.” She sighed and smiled. “My life is like a fairy tale.”

“Happily ever after.”

“See how wise you are?” She patted my leg and stood. “Now get dressed and come down to breakfast.”

I looked at my book, now on the Santa Claus page. The wink. The secret.

ON THE WAY TO THE SNOW BALL

Lovely, rich Marie Louise Le Mare apparently has everything in life. So what can the handsome man in the red suit possibly give her? When they’re trapped in an elevator with only each other for company, a surprise gift exchange makes this Christmas special.

“They must be trying to fix it.” She sounded hopeful.

He stood perfectly still, listening for noise beyond their breathing.

“But could they kill the elevator music?” Her voice came out of the darkness and with each word rose until by the time she said music she was screeching. Barry Manilow crooned softly overhead. “Why should the music play if the stupid thing isn’t moving?” He could understand her irritation. Jingle Bells should not be crooned.

Again, the lights blinked and this time stayed on, dimmer than before. His eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness. She now stood far enough from him to get an overall picture. Her orange dress was form fitting and for someone so young, she was quite curvy.

“Does the music upset you?”

“Yes! It makes me manic!” She threw her hands in the air and took a step toward him.

“What is your name, young lady? Tell me about why you’re here.”

She smiled. “Good maneuver. Change the subject. Distract the crazy person.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the railing. “Are you claustro…?” Her scent tickled his nose again. He laid a finger on one side of his nose then the other. “Are you claustrophobic?”

“Are you allergic to elevators?”

“Maybe I’m allergic to you.” He concentrated on her smiling eyes but his peripheral vision took in the seductive curve of her hips. Attraction and reaction. Allergic reactions are caused by the body trying to defend itself against a suspected harmful entity. The mind and the body are not always in agreement on this. The lovely flower. Sniff and the body will convulse. Take a delicious bite and your throat constricts, suffocating you. “What have you got on? The scent?”

“Special holiday blend. Cinnamon and pine needles.

No wonder. Who had decided these things equated to the smell of Christmas? They might have asked him what his allergies were before deciding.

 “That’s quite a suit.”

“Thank you.”

She snickered. “I’ll give it to you – takes confidence to wear something like that. Even this time of year.”

“You don’t like it?”

She ran a quick glance over him, hat to shoes. When she came back for a second look, she paused on his face, then his legs. “Actually, I do. I mean the cut is good. You’re well built so that helps to carry it off. Not sure about the Santa hat. But I guess it’s the season.”

“So if I wore this some other time of year, you might reconsider your opinion?” He didn’t need her opinion, but something about her giving him the once over, the approval, the lingering of her gaze, effected him like sweet caramel apples on his tongue.

“Do you dress like this all the time?”

Warm Christmas Wishes is available from Melange Books and All Romance Ebooks.

Thank you so much for bringing us these great excerpts, Brenda! Look for Brenda's other great stories and contact her here on the web! 


Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com.

Or on FaceBook: www.facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/brendawhitesid2 

She blogs on the 9^th and 24^th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.com

She blogs about prairie life on her personal blog http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/

XO AJ XO