October 14th, is Indie Author Day – a time when many public libraries host events in support of local authors and their work.
It’s also the perfect opportunity for you to discover new authors and show your support for the authors you already love.
Whether or not you attend an in-person event at a nearby library, you can meet some talented authors right here.
Meet ANNE KANE
Anne is a gorgeous supermodel who writes romance in her spare time while jetting around Europe with a string of boy toys in tow.
Hmmm… no one is going to believe that. How about this?
Anne is an undercover agent for a super-secret government agency, and when not saving the world for democracy and all the good people, she writes romance one-handed on a special minicomputer designed just for her by a mad scientist.
Yeah, that sounds way better. So, ignore the people who tell you she’s just an ordinary person with an extraordinary imagination. They’re just jealous because she gets to play with James Bond and vacation in exotic locations.
Honestly! When she’s not busy saving the world, or writing the next great novel, she likes to kayak, hike, ride motorcycles, swim, skate, practice karate, play her guitar, sing, and of course, read.
Title: Moonlit Madness
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 2017
Natalie had spent one amazing weekend with Jacob McKinley two years ago. When she awoke the next morning, he was gone. What were the chances that he’d turn up next door to her new home? Or that the mutt she’d rescued would conspire with his bouncy little spaniel to throw the two of them together?
The fortune teller at the local fair tells Natalie that she and Jacob are star-crossed lovers, and warns Jacob that Natalie needs a knight in shining armor. There is something bad coming her way. Can Jacob convince Natalie that he cares, and convince her to give him another chance, to trust him to keep her safe?
“Ah.” Britney cocked her head, finally making the connection. “I think Grandma mentioned you in some of her letters. I take it you’re the nutcase with the adorable puppy? The one who needs a haircut and a decent pair of jeans?” Not that she saw anything wrong with the ones he was currently wearing. They showed off his slim hips and nicely shaped ass quite effectively.
The voice in her head snorted in derision
Jacob rolled his eyes, a wry smile curving the edge of his lips. “That would be me. Your Grandmother was quite the independent spirit. I don’t think she ever approved of me.”
Britney forced a laugh. Did he really not remember her? “Oh you’re in good company. There weren’t very many people she approved of, but in her own way she was loveable. She liked to project the image of a grumpy old lady but she was really very sweet.”
He didn’t look convinced. “I’ll have to take your word for that.” His gaze lingered on her just a smidge longer than was polite. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
Oh shit. Now what? Lying was never a good idea, lead to all sorts of things. In her case it usually led to getting caught.
“I doubt it. I haven’t been around much since I left school. Grandma and I mostly kept in contact by email and phone.” The lie slid out so smoothly she could almost believe it herself.
He shrugged, although a slight frown marred the perfection of his forehead. “It must be something else. Well, we’ve met now. Welcome to the neighborhood.” He looked down at Winston. “And who do we have here? Maybe Trixie had a reason for running away this time. He looks like quite the gentleman.”
Britney groaned. The guy needed to do something annoying. Anything. She did not like the way her heart melted with every sentence out of his lips. Mind reading better not be one of Jacob’s talents, or she might as well leave town now.
“This is Winston. He and I are somewhat new to each other, but I have to agree he’s definitely a gentleman.” There. That was almost a conversational tone of voice.
“Jacob held his hand out, palm up, and Winston sniffed it graciously before ruining the whole gentleman thing by slurping the fingers enthusiastically.
The look of shock on Jacob’s face was just too much.
Britney burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. Finally! A less than perfect reaction. At the sound, Trixie jumped up and down, wagging her tail and yapping excitedly, and Winston let out a dignified woof, just to add to the confusion.
“I think he likes me.” Jacob wiped his hand off on his jeans, his mouth twisted in a wry grin. “Or maybe he just wanted a quick taste in case you plan on siccing him on me later.”
Britney smothered another peal of laugher, while Winston gave her a pained look. Apparently he saw nothing funny in his gesture of friendship. She patted him on the head. “It’s okay buddy. We can work on your manners this summer.”
He looked up at her with a serious expression and thumped his tail on the ground a few times. Apparently he was fine with that.
“Hate to introduce myself and run, but Trixie and I need to get back now. Welcome to the Cape. I’ll try to keep my little brat off your property from now on. When you get settled, maybe we can get together for a cup of coffee?”
Was he asking for a date? No. A cup of coffee between neighbors was just that. And she didn’t want to date right now anyway. Did she? No! Still, a cup of coffee couldn’t hurt anything. Even a cup of coffee with a gorgeous hunk of man that she’d slept with years ago. “Sure. Sounds lovely.”
He smiled then, and it went all the way from his eyes to the tips of his scuffed up running shoes. Britney’s heart did a little flip.
Coffee might not be such a safe idea after all!
Meet AMAKA LILY
Amaka Lily is a Nigerian American. Born in America and raised in Nigeria, she currently lives in New Jersey.
She fell in love with writing as a kid, and her favorite places are Libraries and Coffee Shops. She is fascinated by different cultures, race and cultural identity. Her first novel, Shifting Allegiances is a fictional tale of a Nigerian girl and her attempts to forge a life in America.
Amaka’s other hobbies include travelling and fashion.
You can connect with her directly on facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shifting-Allegiances/731164573596530.
Title: Shifting Allegiances- A Nigerian’s story of Nigeria, America & Culture Shock
Genre: African Literature
Release date: July 25, 2014
If you had told Deka in 2005, as she sat on a plane bound for America, that she would one day wish to be in Nigeria, she would have spat in your face. Nigeria had been hell for her. She lived in a one room boys-quarter with 7 family members. She could not go to college or get a job. Poverty and Corruption were rampant. Nigerians who had the means had since fled the country. She would have left sooner, but had lacked the funds to do. She was never coming back. She was sure of it. America was going to be great. She was sure of it.
But seven years later, Deka was doing just that, trying to return to Nigeria. America had turned out to be a nightmare, and she wanted to return home.
It hadn’t started out that way. When Deka first arrived, America had proven to be everything she had expected. But as America continued to unfold, she saw a side that no one had told her about. A side that she could not live with.
On her first visit back, Deka realizes that not only has Nigeria moved on without her, but that she has changed. Irrevocably. She can no longer live in Nigeria the way she had previously done. Since she does not want to live in America, she arrives at a cross road. Does she continue with her plans to return to Nigeria or does she learn to work with America?
A month into my work life I got tonsillitis. “No big deal”, I thought. I knew the drill. I had caught tonsillitis so many times in Nigeria that I could treat myself blindfolded. Two antibiotics taken daily for a week was the solution for this condition and it worked every time. Sometimes, not taking any medication and simply riding it out would suffice which was actually my first course of action. Well, that did not work. A week later, my throat still ached. It throbbed and throbbed and throbbed. I could barely swallow food and had a headache, fever and was coughing up little splatters of blood. I knew I needed antibiotics FAST.
After work, I went straight to Fresh Groceries and perused the medicine aisle. I couldn’t find any antibiotics there. I then went to the pharmacy which was housed at the back of the store. Surely they would have some antibiotics? I had about $50 with me and thought that would be sufficient. In Nigeria, antibiotics cost about 20 naira a pill. It had to be cheaper in the country that manufactured the drug…
I went up to the counter assistant and said:
“Hello, do you have antibiotics and how much do they cost?”
“Huh…” she looked at me quizzically, confusion quickly spreading over her face. “… it would depend on what type… Can I see your prescription?”
I was confused. What prescription? I repeated “I just want to buy antibiotics?”
“Yes, but you need a prescription before you can buy antibiotics”
I was still confused. Why was she insisting on a prescription? I just wanted to buy antibiotics….. I mean… wasn’t this a pharmacy? Since when did one need prescriptions to buy common medicine ?
Seeing my confusion, and putting together my accent, she finally surmised I was a foreigner.
“Are you new to America?” she asked, her tone now kind.
“Yes, I am”
“Well, in this country, pharmacies don’t sell drugs to people just like that. You have to get a prescription from a doctor BEFORE we can sell you anything. It is the law”
At that moment, the laws in America were beginning to just be absurd. It seemed that there were laws for the most mundane and meaningless of things. It was becoming really tiresome. I could understand the laws to get a social security number and to protect you in a contract. But a law that prevented you from buying simple medicine? Now that was just RIDICULOUS.
“But what if you know what’s ailing you? Do you still need a prescription for something you know what the treatment is?”
“Absolutely! You cannot buy any prescription medication in the U.S without a prescription.” she reemphasized. “No pharmacy will sell medicine to you here without a prescription”
This did not make sense to me. In Nigeria, a person could easily walk up to any pharmacy to buy medicine and no prescription was needed. Why did medicine require a prescription here, when in Nigeria it was available without one, and in unlimited amounts? Why was it that the country that manufactured the drugs, had so many hurdles that did not exist in other countries?
It didn’t make sense.
But this was America and what’s that saying again? When in Rome, do as the Romans do?
“So what do I do?” I asked the lady. There was no way I was going to have a good night’s sleep with this pain. My throat was sore and I needed some relief. “I really need this medication. Where can I get a prescription today?”
“Well you can go to General Hospital which is 3 blocks away” she offered “they have doctors there 24-7. Go to the emergency room section, and they would give you a doctor who will write you a prescription”, she offered helpfully. She even gave me directions to the place.
I was grateful.
I went straight to General Hospital and asked to see the “Doctor for Prescriptions”
“What are you here for Ma’am?” an obviously overworked attendant asked of me.
I told her I had tonsillitis.
“What’s your name, age & address?”
I told her.
“Do you have any health insurance?”
“No”, I answered.
She ushered me into another section where another nurse took my vital signs. She checked my blood pressure, temperature and heart rate.
I was okay.
I asked her when I could see the “Doctor for prescriptions”. She told me there was no “Doctor for prescriptions” per se but that I could get a prescription after being seen by a doctor.
She took me to the waiting room. I looked around. There were about 30 people waiting in this room. I asked her, “How long will it take before I can see the Doctor?”
“Oh, it would be a while” was her response.
And what a diplomatic response that was, because if I had known what a “while” in American emergency rooms meant, I would have gone straight home, tonsillitis be damned. But I was still new to the U.S. and I didn’t know what that meant.
I took a seat and waited.
All around me where people in various stages of illness. Some groaning loudly, others cradling a broken arm or leg. Blood spattered bandages everywhere.
It was crazy.
Every so often, a nurse would come out and call a person’s name.
It seemed like everyone was called but me.
Twice while waiting, there was a huge ruckus. The first was an ambulance filled with people involved in a drive by shooting. Because the people being brought were either half dead or bleeding profusely, they took precedence over those of us who were “not so sick”.
The second was a pregnant woman who was practically giving birth as she was rushed into the hospital.
Again she took precedence over those of us who were “not so sick”
I understood even though my patience was tried. But even if I didn’t, there was nothing I could do about it.
4 hours and 30 minutes later, it was my turn.
Before the lady even called my name, I knew it was going to be me, me of the unpronounceable name. The look on her face said it all…
“Sorry, I can’t pronounce this name, she preambled, IN-NEE-JEE- DEK-KER
“That’s me” I answered sparing my father’s name from further disrepute.
“Oh I’m sorry”, she beamed brightly at me “what would you like me to call you?”
“Just call me Deka” I said. It was an effort to talk to this woman. My throat was hurting and I had lost 4 hours of my time. Uncle didn’t even know where I was as I did not have a cell phone. I was also hungry, feverish and my throat was still aching.
She took me into another room and sat me on a bed.
“So what’s wrong with you? She asked. I told her I had tonsillitis.
She looked at me disbelievingly. “How do you know you have tonsillitis?”
“Look at this woman!” I thought to myself. “Did she think this was the first time I had caught tonsillitis? I KNEW the symptoms. Aloud, I reassured her that I had tonsillitis.
She said she needed to be sure. Asked me to open my mouth and peered into my throat with an instrument. After looking, she took another instrument to poke my throat, take a sample of God knows what and then left to do some tests.
I waited in that cold hard room for what seemed another eternity.
Then she came back with results of my tests. “Looks like you were right. You do have tonsillitis”.
“Duh”. I thought to myself.
Are you allergic to any medication?
I told her No.
She then gave me a prescription for antibiotics.
Finally I had the blessed prescription in my hands.
I rushed back to Fresh Groceries pharmacy and presented the prescription to another pharmacist. I thought that was it.
Then that bloody question again, “Do you have health insurance?
What was it with this health insurance? This was the second time I had been asked that question, why was it so important?
I told the pharmacist No.
She said “It might be a little bit expensive because you don’t have insurance” and went ahead to ring up the price.
It came to $20. I swallowed it quickly and rushed home, wanting to be done with what I thought had been a horrible day.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
Meet DINA GIVEN
Dina Given has been an avid fan of fantasy in all of its permutations since childhood. She is convinced that magic lives on in this world, and she is doing her part to bring a piece of it to readers. Dina lives in Lebanon, New Jersey with her husband, two crazy kids, and two rescue dogs. She is an exercise enthusiast and avid lover of food and wine (hence the need to exercise). Dina writes Urban Fantasy with a touch of Paranormal Romance and Horror.
Title: Unhidden (The Gatekeeper Chronicles Book 1)
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Release date: April 13, 2015
It’s not always easy to differentiate between the good guys and the bad guys, especially when a trained killer may be falling in love with her evil hunter.
Emma Hayes, a former military Special Forces Operative turned mercenary-for-hire, finds her tightly controlled world turned upside down when she becomes the target of attacks by powerful supernatural creatures.
Claws, teeth, and a slavering black tongue rose over me as I lay prone on the floor. It could have easily ripped my throat out or killed me in a dozen hideous ways. It seemed to realize this, too. Its jaw cracked and popped, unhinging so wide it could make a meal of my head in one bite. Hot, putrid saliva dripped onto my face, leaking into my open wound and searing it like acid. I hissed at the sensation and turned away; however, I couldn’t escape its fetid breath.
It leaned in, eager and hungry, while I was frozen. I would meet death in the jaws of an inhuman beast. It would drink my blood, feast on my organs, and gnaw on my bones for dessert.
Darko’s hoarse voice called from down the hall. “Don’t kill her! We need her.”
The thing paused and let out a high-pitched wail of anger at being deprived of its dinner. The sound shattered my fear.
I threw up a knee, violently slamming it in the creature’s crotch. Thankfully, it was humanoid enough, that it had the same effect as any other male. He howled and rolled off me into the fetal position. I immediately scrambled backward, sliding along the marble floor. My left arm, screaming in pain, remained limp at my side.
With my right arm, I reached over my head to grab the gun. As my fingers wrapped around the grip, the familiar feeling was like coming home again.
I pointed the Glock down the length of my body, and without a moment’s hesitation, I pulled the trigger in three quick, precise squeezes. The head of the creature I had nut-cracked exploded in a spray of blood and gore.
Shifting the gun’s sight, I found the second creature barreling down the hall toward me. The first three shots hit him square in the chest, yet he hardly slowed. I lifted the gun slightly, took a deep breath and held it, then squeezed the trigger, putting a round straight through its eye and into its brain. That time, it stumbled yet still kept coming. I put four more rounds into its head, not missing a shot, before it finally crashed to the floor only inches shy of my feet.
Darko merely stood there, a sly, half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth while I unsteadily got to my feet, pushing myself up with my gun hand. Despite the fact that Darko carried no weapon I could see, for a moment, I considered shooting him. He had set me up, kidnapped an innocent girl, and commanded those creatures. Even though he had stopped them from killing me, I was sure he wouldn’t hesitate if he got what he wanted from me.
With him only a few yards away, I had a clear shot. I pointed my weapon at him, and for the first time today, he reacted. The blood drained from his face, his eyes darting around, seeking escape. He quickly came to the same conclusion I had—there was no escape for him.
My finger tightened on the trigger, but before I could get off the shot, a monstrous animal bounded from the shadows behind him. It leapt past Darko, springing at me on all fours. It was the size of a bear with dry, scaly skin, and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Two tusks extended from the roof of its mouth, past its jaw. It bellowed like a foghorn as it charged me.
Meet ELISSA MATTHEWS
Elissa Matthews was born and raised in New Jersey, close enough to visit New York City and watch the turmoil of Civil Rights, Women’s Rights, and anti-war demonstrations first hand, then return to the quiet of the country to absorb and understand. She is the author of several short stories, all of them dealing, in one way or another, with our lies, our masks, and the issues we need courage to face. She has visited almost every state in the USA and more than 30 countries around the globe, but still lives 12 miles down the road from where she grew up. Where the River Bends is her first novel.
Title: Where the River Bends
Genre: Historical Fiction, African American Fiction
Release Date: January 2017
The year is 1931. Fear and poverty have the country by the throat. One woman’s lies drive her family to the brink of disaster. Now an Amazon top 100 bestseller!
When the police arrived at Celeste Vandenholm’s door that dismal November afternoon, her first thought was Oh God, Peter has found out about me.
But Peter hadn’t found out, and later Celeste would wonder why she had even thought that. It would make no sense to think the police would be involved. Perhaps.
The older officer took off his cap and held it against his chest, his fingers brushing pellets of sleet off the stiff brim. “I’m sorry to tell you this, ma’am, your husband has been in an automobile accident.” The younger officer solemnly nodded.
Celeste didn’t hear a word after that, other than “hospital” and “operating.”
The whole day splintered into a kaleidoscope of disconnected fragments from which she tried to snap into action: ringing for Timmins to call a hackney, standing like a stone statue while he opened an umbrella for her, bitter, salty spray catching her in the face as one of the new 1930 Fords sped down Park Avenue.
“New York German Hospital,” she instructed the driver, striving to be strong, confident, in control.
“Yes, ma’am,” he’d said. “They call it Lenox Hill now,” he informed her conversationally. “They done renamed it, must be ten years ago now.” He glanced at her in the mirror and fell silent as they drove on, the wheels whirring against the wet pavement.
She had rushed to the hospital, but now the wait was endless. Waiting to be shown to the waiting room. Waiting for Peter to come out of surgery. Waiting to find out what was happening. Waiting for her thoughts to stop whirling so she could pray.
“The first day after any surgery is the most critical,” Dr. Stegmann said, when he finally arrived. He wore a clean surgical gown, but a single streak of vivid scarlet crossed his cheek. Oh God, that was Peter’s blood. Celeste turned her head, trying not to see what she would never forget. “His wounds were extensive, but we managed to stop all the bleeding, so that’s good news.” He took her hand and pressed it gently. “But he also has a fractured skull, and three broken bones in his neck. We won’t be able to tell how much brain and nerve damage there is, until he wakes up.”
It took a moment for the words to make sense. “When he wakes up?” Celeste could barely choke out the words. “When will that be? When will he wake up?”
“We don’t know. All we can do is pray it will be soon.” He touched her hand. “The nurses will be bringing him up from the operating theater in an hour or two.”
Celeste wanted to collapse onto the floor in agony, but had no recourse but to wait and then wait even more.
At long last someone ushered her into what seemed to be an absurdly comfortable hospital room. She stepped blithely through the doorway, and suddenly there he was, shockingly close enough to touch, not even an arm’s length away. She jumped backward, startled, and cried out. Bile rose up and for a moment she struggled not to vomit right there. She gouged her nails into the back of her neck, concentrating on the pain until the dizziness passed, then she took a short, but infinitely long step forward and gripped the sheet lying over Peter’s arm. She was barely aware of the nurse moving a chair up to the bed for her, and she sank into it without letting go of Peter. The nurse murmured a few words about calling if anything was needed, then closed the door behind her.
Celeste put her head down on the railing next to Peter’s face, listening to his faint breathing. At least he was still breathing, she could cling to that. So many nights she had lain next to him, reaching out for sleep that didn’t come, while he dropped into slumber like a rock into a pond, then flopped around onto his back and started to snore. “Roll over, honey, you’re snoring,” she’d say, shaking him lightly, marveling at how the dim gaslight caught the clean lines of his cheekbones.
How would she live if anything were to happen to her Peter? “Please come back to me,” she whispered. “Please.”
He didn’t wake up the first day. It was an entire day, wasn’t it? She couldn’t recall. She remembered calling Briarwood Academy and asking Headmaster Hibbeler to put David on a train for New York. She remembered calling home, and asking Nurse Savener to explain to Martina that Father would not be able to play chess with her that night. Martina’s addled, confused mental condition would not be able to grasp the situation, but perhaps she was the fortunate one, in that regard, at least. She’d been that way from birth, in spite of all the doctors tried, so who knew what she thought about anything? Hospital staff in white uniforms bustled up and down the hallway in a blur; one of them brought her an cup of terrible coffee with a thin film of oil floating on the surface, and offered her a sandwich. Celeste shook her head. Fear and anger surged through her in alternate waves, ebbing and flowing, like the ocean against the shore. She huddled in the hard chair and waited for Peter to wake up.
Half of his face was mottled and swollen with bruises; the other half was hidden behind bandages that had once been white but were now streaked with blood. He lay motionless, arms at his sides, raised up on pillows, trapped inside a cage of bed railings. The electric lighting cast a peculiar matte look to his skin, as if he were made of a strange, oddly tinted clay.
“Oh God, oh God, why?” she whispered, and bent over once more, clutched the sheets and tried to pray, but it had been a long time since she’d believed that God was an old man with a white beard who stepped in to rescue every puny human in pain.
She rested her face gently next to Peter’s. He didn’t move. That was the worst part —he simply didn’t move. He didn’t reach out to stroke her hair, he didn’t put his hand under her chin and kiss her, as he always did when she was upset. He was simply gone. This is what Momma had looked like when she died, this eerie, forbidding sense of emptiness, of unknown danger lurking out of sight. Momma and Peter, these were the people who were supposed to keep her safe. Now everything was the wrong way around and she was utterly lost.
“Are you in pain?” she whispered. “Please don’t be in pain. Please just come home. I need you to come home. The children need you to come home.” She swallowed down yet another surge of tears. “I didn’t lie to you on purpose. I just always loved you too much to tell you the truth.”
He does not come. We wait. We wait. The soldiers are quiet. They stand in rank, motionless, waiting for the battle to begin, but it does not. The general with the big hands, the general of the black army who comes in the evening, he does not come. The gods have taken him away. He must have made them very angry.
Meet KAYELLE ALLEN
Kayelle Allen writes Sci Fi with misbehaving robots, mythic heroes, role playing immortal gamers, and warriors who purr. She’s a US Navy veteran and has been married so long she’s tenured.
Romance Lives Forever Reader Group https://kayelleallen.com/bro/
Amazon Author page http://amazon.com/author/kayelleallen
Title: Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas
Genre: Military Science Fiction, Action Adventure, Speculative Fiction
Release date: 5/1/16
Why should Pietas end the war with humans?
His people are winning, yet they insist on peace talks. The Ultra people want to grant humans a seat on the Council. Pietas ap Lorectic, Chancellor of the High Council, War Leader and First Conqueror, disagrees. What’s best for mortals is oppression, control, and if necessary, elimination.
Pietas seethes with rage at the idea of human equality. Humans might have created Ultras, but the creation has far surpassed the creator. Humans die. Ultras are reborn, no matter how grievous the injury. They have no equals.
His people permit him no choice. He must attend these insipid peace talks on Enderium Six and what’s worse, be polite. To humans.
When a human special ops warrior is killed in battle, he’s resurrected in a secret process and inducted into the Ghost Corps. He’s given enough strength to perma-kill immortal Ultras. Ghosts are the most hated and feared of warriors.
When the ghost entraps and captures Pietas at the peace talks, the two begin a long journey toward Sempervia, an isolated and forgotten world. Once there, Pietas is marooned and the ghost abandoned alongside him. The two must either fight to perma-death, or join forces to survive.
As Pietas comes to trust the human, an unlikely and awkward friendship begins. Until he discovers how ghosts are resurrected…
The nameless, empathetic bond between him and his twin drew Pietas, and he caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Dess, have you–” He yanked back his hand, biting off the words. “Never mind.”
“It’s all right. Go ahead. Ask me.”
He held her gaze, reading the depth of her knowledge with the innate connection their bond afforded him. “Have you– No.” He turned away. “Never mind. It wasn’t important. Forget I said anything.”
The single word stopped him cold. He faced her, chin lifted. “What?”
“You heard me. Dragons. That’s what you wanted to ask, isn’t it? If I’ve been dreaming about dragons.” She unzipped her leathers down to her rounded bosom, and pulled out a fine chain dangling a dragon charm. “In the dreams, yours are teal and silver. Mine are ruby and gold.”
He returned to her, and took the pendant in hand. The golden creature sparkled, its eyes glistening as if wet with blood. “Beautiful.” He rubbed a thumb over it, and the dragon warmed to his touch. He smiled into Dessy’s pale eyes. “How often do you dream them?”
“Every night. Tas, what does it mean?”
At hearing her childhood name for him, he dropped the pendant. “Dragons are primal protectors. They symbolize defeat of the beast within and show selfless courage.”
She tucked the chain back inside her top. “How do you know that?”
“How do you not?”
She called him a rude name, and shoved him.
It broke the tension, and he laughed. “Come on, Sis. Let’s do what you came to do and be done with it. I’m busy.”
“Fine, you big spoilsport. You never let me have any fun.”
“Father wouldn’t approve if I did.”
“And we all know how much you want Father’s approval.”
One thousand nine hundred and sixteen years old, and the truth behind her teasing still stung. Pietas spun away from her and crossed the room.
Meet KETA DIABLO
Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the United States on six acres of woodland. When she isn’t writing or gardening she loves to commune with nature. A lifelong animal lover, she also devotes her time and support to the local animal shelters.
Keta’s a bestselling Amazon author who writes in several genres, including western romance, historical romance, paranormal romance and the occasional gay romance. Her books have received numerous Top Pick, Book of the Month and Recommended Read reviews.
Author home: http://ketaskeep.blogspot.com
Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/Keta-Diablo/e/B002BODURI/
Author contact info
Title: A Ghost To Die For
Genre Contemporary Romance/Ghost
Release date September 12, 2017
Do you believe in ghosts? Rooney Fontaine doesn’t—or didn’t until one named Stuart Granger shows up in her hotel room. Now the humorous, yet desperate, apparition is begging her to find the men who murdered him before his brother becomes their next victim.
After serving three tours in Afghanistan and one in Iraq, Stephan Granger is no stranger to risk and peril. When a woman shows up at his house rambling about ghosts, murder and assassins, his first inclination is to deem her wrong in the head and send her packing. But how does she know things that happened to him and his dear departed brother in their childhoods, secrets they never shared with anyone?
Soon after he invites her in to hear more about what really happened to Stuart, gunfire splits the air and shatters all the windows in the house. Someone is trying to kill them. Now they’re on the run from assassins while trying to find out who killed his brother and why they want him dead too.
Even amid murder and mayhem, sometimes you find love.
The hotel room loomed eerily still, almost too still. For a brief moment Rooney wondered if some of the spiritual energy from the séance had followed her up the elevator. Dismissing the dismal thought, she emptied her bladder in the bathroom, and upon exiting, crossed the room to her suitcase lying open on the bed nearest the window.
Coming to an abrupt halt, a loud gasp caught in her throat. When she saw the man seated in the club chair next to the draperies, she did the first thing that came to her mind…grabbed a weapon. Seconds later, she faced him with a fully loaded can of hair spray in one hand and her curling iron in the other.
He put a hand in the air. Whoa, now, I mean you no harm, Miss.
“How did you get in here? What are you doing here? And just who-who are you?”
Wait…you’re looking at me when you speak. Not only can you hear me but you can see me?
“Of course I can hear you…and see you. I’m not standing here with a curling iron and a can of hair spray to attack the chair.”
Oh, that. Won’t do you any good. Both would go through me.
He didn’t look menacing. In fact, he looked forlorn and way too calm for someone bent on attacking her. Dressed in a pair of denim jeans and a white cotton shirt, his hair was cut short, his features fine and symmetrical. Despite his calm demeanor, a chill ran down her spine. A white aura circled his translucent body. Something about the stranger wasn’t quite authentic…tangible. “Don’t change the subject. I asked what you’re doing in my room.” She glanced toward the door. “And how did you get in here?”
Why don’t you take a seat on the edge of the bed and I’ll explain everything.
“Are you out of your mind? I have no intention of holding a conversation with a stranger who’s broken into my room.”
I didn’t break into your room; I walked through that door, or was it the wall? He shrugged. In any event, there was no break in.
“Not listening to this, calling security.”
Rooney, that’s you, right?
“Oh. My. God. You know my name?”
He gave a sheepish nod. I heard you talking to your sister backstage after the séance.
“You followed me?”
I wouldn’t call it following you. I entered the elevator with you and sort of walked shoulder-to-shoulder with you up here.
“You weren’t at the séance on stage, so what then, were you in the audience?”
No, I was on stage, but kind of hanging around in the background. He put his hands in the air, palms out. I swear, I won’t hurt you, but I been lurking around this hotel for two months now wondering how I was going to get out of this mess. Then you arrived at La Bonne Chance with your sister, you know, the fabulous Fontaine sisters, the crème-dela-crème of psychics, and my prayers were answered.
She snorted. “I’m not a psychic, mister. Looks like you picked the wrong sister.”
No, I picked the right sister. Now if only I can get her to hear me out.
“I don’t want to hear you out; I want you to get the hell out of my hotel room. Like now!” When he didn’t comply, she moved the can of hair spray until it loomed inches from his face. “I’m going to count to three. If you aren’t out of that chair and out that door by then, I’m giving you a face full of hair spray.”
Go ahead. Maybe then you’ll realize what I am and listen.
“You asked for it.” She held the nozzle down and let him have it between the eyes. Not a muscle on his body moved. Much to her dismay, she didn’t have the satisfaction of seeing him blink. The aroma of hair spray hung heavy in the air, but it didn’t seem to bother him as much as it did her. Through a series of chokes and chortles she managed to eke out the words. “What are you, some kind of weirdo with inhuman defenses?”
You asked me what I am and I’m telling you. I’m a ghost.
Meet PE KAVANAGH
PE Kavanagh has been a professional dancer, MIT-educated engineer, corporate executive, spiritual teacher, and chef. These days, her favorite titles are author, mother, and hot stuff. Find out what she’s up to at pekavanagh.com.
Title: The Price of Desire
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Release date: 10/4/17
All Lalune wants to do is sing.
Problem is, she’s underwater. Literally.
This despairing mermaid needs a way out. Only a miracle will do.
Monique’s exit from her blazing culinary career has left her heart raw and cold.
A sizzling weekend with a sexy stranger melts her defenses. But is it enough to light her fire once again?
These two stories travel from the dark depths of the Pacific Ocean to the bright lights of Las Vegas, connecting in a deliciously surprising twist.
The Price of Desire is a steamy, standalone novel with a blend of contemporary romance and magical fantasy.
He grew louder and I grew silent. He grew larger, and I shrank into my two unsatisfying worlds of mother and chef.
Silence became my husband’s lover. A lifetime of meticulously chosen words, and a short period of incoherent raging, left me mute. No need to wonder what happened after one screamed so violently that the voice failed. Silence, of course.
Whose hand is over my mouth, I wondered, powerless to move my mouth with an inexplicable case of lockjaw. Being incapable of complaining also meant no oral sex. He would suffer for what he had done.
By not speaking, I could bear the dishonesty. By feigning agreement, I would keep the peace. By locking my jaw, I could stop being force fed his chilling torment.
Silence cooked for him, silence slept with him and silence hung on his arm, right alongside the Rolex, neither making even a tick.
Maybe I had used up my quota of words. A bit soon, I thought, but not impossible. Or maybe, by using words like weapons, which I had done with so many others, I had broken some covenant and been banned to the land of the speechless.
Be seen and not heard, resurrected from childhood. Silent AND deadly.
How much venom could be produced with a wordless gaze, a tight-lipped grimace, a rigid backed response? A nearly fatal dose, I came to understand, without the need to bare the fangs locked behind the prison of my mouth.
Everyone could see the cause of this strange symptom, the locking of my jaw. But I dared not even think the thought – my life was sealing my lips shut.
What would I have to admit, about my own part in the tragic farce, to say – “He did this, and I let him?”
Silence was the price for security, the counterfeit for connection, as valuable as any of the constant lies. Whether spoken or not, dishonesty was our secret code.
I would win this one. If shutting up and shutting off were the rules of engagement, I would be the silent victor.
“You won’t talk to me,” he would say. No shit, I thought, and that was that. I won the round, again.
But he changed the rules, so quickly I could not veer from the strategy to manipulate him into acquiescence. I rounded the bend to find that he had left me, emotionally.
Unable to bear the hypocrisy, or the silence of lies, he stopped playing mid-game, took his heart and left. The only pleas were silent as I realized it was my own hand over my mouth.
Meet RENÉE Y. LEWIS
Renée Y. Lewis lives and writes in New York City, where she has a day job as a Lab Systems Specialist but moonlights as a writer of contemporary romance. She is the author of the Mike & Eve series, set in present-day San Francisco, CA and New York City, which comprises of her debut novel, Eve’s Destiny, the first book in the series. She has always been an avid fiction reader. While working full-time, Renée began writing in the evenings and during commutes, using just about any spare time she could find. She is inspired by her diverse personal background and interests and you’ll find aspects of her personality reflected in her characters. She’s a hopeless romantic and has a passion for a good love story with a little bit of action. When Renée is not working or writing novels, she enjoys, baking, drawing, running marathons, and spending time with family and friends.
Title: Eve’s Destiny
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: Dec. 16th 2016
Eve Townsend is a gifted artist and architect at Colby Designs San Francisco office but she’s always felt that something was missing from her life. Because of her success, she is promoted to Manager of the Design department, but the position is located at Colby’s New York City branch. Being strong-willed and independent, Eve makes the decision to move across the country, leaving behind her friends and the life she always knew.
Everything seems to be going Eve’s way when she meets a handsome police NYPD detective, Michael McGarrett. Mike and Eve’s eyes lock and their chemistry is evident as they are instantly drawn to each other. Mike and his partner are on the hunt for a suspected criminal, Lucas Coles. Eve informed the detectives that Lucas was recently fired and unfortunately had no clue to his current whereabouts.
Unexpectedly, Eve is caught in the cross-fire when Lucas returns to Colby Designs on a shooting rampage. Her career move should have been Eve’s chance of a lifetime and she never expected it to threaten her life. Will Mike locate and rescue Eve in his usual heroic fashion and will they get their happy ending?
While Sherri continued her search, a beautiful young woman, Eve Townsend, stepped off the elevator, and Mike and Sam approached her, hoping for better luck. Eve was slender, with just the right amount of curves, wavy brown hair that rested just below her shoulders and light-brown smoldering eyes. When Eve and Mike’s eyes locked onto each other’s they felt a pull beyond their comprehension, and both seemed transfixed. The transmission between them sizzled with an unspoken connection.
Sam glanced between the two of them and broke the uncomfortable silence by identifying himself and his partner. He flashed his badge. “Hi, I’m Detective Sam Lewis, this is my partner Detective Mike McGarrett, and you are?”
Eve broke eye contact with Mike to acknowledge Sam and scanned the badge he was displaying. She glanced over to the receptionist, once again catching Mike’s eyes. “I’ll take care of them, Sherri.” Grateful for the save, Sherri nodded. Sherri was intrigued by what the detectives could possibly want with this Lucas Coles and with the obvious attraction between Ms. Townsend and Detective McGarrett. Her first day at Colby Designs was shaping up to be very interesting.
As Eve and Sam shook hands, she addressed them both, “Nice to meet you, Detective Lewis, Detective McGarrett. I’m Eve Townsend, one of the department managers.”
The sound of Eve’s soft voice tugged at Mike’s heart. Lucas Coles was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment, but he managed to compose himself enough to shake her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Ms. Townsend.” At each other’s touch, an unexpected surge of electricity shot through their entire bodies, and Eve hastily released her hand, slightly embarrassed.
Sam’s eyes darted between the two of them, slightly befuddled by his partner’s off-balanced behavior. “Ms. Townsend, do you know how we can reach this man?” he interjected while presenting Eve with the sketch of Lucas. “The receptionist didn’t seem to recognize him.”
Still shaken by her physical contact with Detective McGarrett, Eve was happy to focus on something else. “It’s Sherri’s first day. She’s still getting familiar with the staff.” But when Eve looked at the sketch, it was evident that she did recognize him. “That’s Lucas Coles, he used to manage the IT department but was recently let go from the company. He no longer works here. That’s why Sherri didn’t know who he was,” she explained.
Mike wasn’t certain, but he thought he saw Eve shiver. “How recently was Lucas fired?” he asked, recovered from their physical contact.
“Just a couple of days ago, in fact, but I don’t know all of the details. It happened so suddenly, and I heard there was a big scene while he was being escorted out of the building by security. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, but I didn’t know him very well. I’m fairly new with the company myself. I only met Lucas when I first arrived just two weeks ago to obtain my credentials.” Eve shivered again at the memory of their first encounter. “Other than in passing, I haven’t had any contact with him, thank goodness.”
“You didn’t like him much?” questioned Mike.
“I didn’t really know him not to like him, but to be honest he gave me the creeps. There was something very… odd about him, and I’m just happy to not have to deal with him anymore.”
“I see.” Sam glanced at Mike and thanked Eve for her assistance while handing her his business card. “Please contact us if you can think of anything else, Ms. Townsend.”
“Of course, Detective Lewis.”
“Is there a number we could reach you at if we have additional questions?” asked Sam.
“Oh, yes, but I don’t have…”
Mike handed Eve another business card and a pen. “You can write your number on this.”
“Thank you.” Eve jotted her office and cell number on the card and handed it and the pen back to Mike.
“Thank you again, Ms. Townsend, you have a good day.”
Eve smiled at Mike. “You too, Detective McGarrett, Detective Lewis.” Little butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Still drawn to the tall, dark, and handsome detective, Eve watched Mike as he and Sam walked towards the elevators for a couple of seconds before heading down the corridor toward her office.
Sherri smiled to herself. This was definitely an interesting place to work. She would have to dig up the details regarding this Lucas Coles and his abrupt departure.
After he and Sam entered the elevators, Mike couldn’t keep his eyes off Eve as she walked down the hall. Before she reached her office, she unexpectedly looked back and stole another glance at him. Just before the elevator doors closed, their eyes met once again and Mike’s heart skipped a beat.
Eve realized that she was smiling to herself and wished that she would get the chance to see Detective McGarrett again. Little did she know she would get her wish sooner than she expected.
Meet SCARLETTE RAYNE
Scarlette Rayne writes contemporary romance fiction, with elements of mystery, intrigue and suspense. An equal opportunity genre reader—she read all sorts from crime thrillers to erotica, paranormal to horror as well as romance.
Some of her favorite books and authors include ‘Girl with the Dragon Tattoo’ series by the late Steig Larson, Jeff Lindsay’s ‘Dexter’ series, Ayn Rand’s ‘Atlas Shrugged’ Stephen Kings’ ‘The Stand,’ and Ernest Hemingway’s ‘A Moveable Feast.’
Scarlette grew up in New York, but lived in Florida, Georgia, Colorado and North Carolina. She loves horses, the fall and winter, the color black, coffee, wine and chocolate. As well as rainy days, the mountains and on occasion, the beach. Most of Scarlette’s ideas and plots for her novels derive from life and the world around her.
She is currently working on a non-romance novel which she wrote during 2016’s NaNoWriMo. It’s a mix of spy, comedy, drama with a touch of romance, and she plans to write under her real name, Cathy Beitelman.
You can visit her blog at: http://www.velvetfx.com
Title: ‘Nocturne of Secrecy: A novella to The Symphony Noir Collection’
Genre: Romance Suspense
Release Date: April 29th, 2016
Alexis Angel is no stranger to bold invitations. Whether it’s being swept away to an exotic locale by a skillful lover–or a request to serenade elite audiences with her piano skills–she’s accustomed to the attention.
However, when seductive businessman Travis McGregor asks her to perform at his company’s charity event, Alexis is both intrigued and drawn to him like no other.
What begins as a cold, frigid evening, slowly turns into a whirlwind of intoxicating lust. Travis is different from many men Alexis has known–and certainly the steamy romance emerging between them won’t be a typical one.
Prague, Czech Republic
12 years ago
I stepped into the relentless, cold night from the hotel lobby. A strong gust of wind made me pull my elegant coat, tighter around the curves of my slender body. As I walked to the sleek, black limo, the attractive driver politely nodded in greeting as he opened the door for me. His roguish smile held a suggestive thought as his gaze met mine. I daintily eased into the car; a seductive smile played across my lips, shooting back to the driver my own silent innuendo. Despite the chilly temps, I deliberately allowed one bare leg to linger a bit longer than it should, offering the driver an eyeful of smooth, tan skin. I then slid my leg into the limo, where the warmth was a stark contrast to the cold snap outside.
I breathed in stale cigar smoke embedded in the limo’s leather interior. Lingering cologne and previously spilled champagne added to the mix, giving away the fact this limo had seem some fun times. The driver got behind the wheel but took his sweet time adjusting the review mirror, his dark and voracious eyes met my alluring emerald greens in the reflection. I playfully ignored the fact he was trying to steal a look, so I casually opened the front of my coat. On display for him was the plunging neck-line of my black-laced cocktail dress, revealing my firm, soft-to-the-touch cleavage. I wanted the driver to drink in the sight of me, therefore I turned my head to the side to look out the window. A few ten¬drils of silky, raven locks fell softly upon my exposed collar bone. He cleared his throat and adjusted his driver’s cap. Then he began fixing the collar of his shirt then wiped his brow with the back of his hand. The driver’s body language amused me to where I had to hide my smirk. What? You never had an attractive female to chauffer around? As he swiftly drove off, it was apparent that frustration and need grew within him.
His impressive skills at maneuvering the busy streets of Prague led my thoughts to wonder how carefully he could handle me in the bedroom. With ease and tenderness? Perhaps it would be pas¬sion and a thirst for pleasing me until the sun rises. I inhaled, then exhaled deeply as a means to control my breathing. These thoughts were making me feel all worked up. I caught the driver glancing at me once more in his rear-view mirror. My breathing most likely captured his attention for a moment; he cleared his throat, rubbed the back of his neck once more and grunted softly. The kind of grunt a man makes when he sees something he ap¬proves of.
Needing some sort of distraction away from the driver, I looked out the window again; this time, paying mind to the view passing by. A steamy haze began to appear on the glass. I watched as tiny droplets of condensation took residence on the limo’s tinted glass, brought about by our hushed flirtations. It reminded me of what happens when two ravenous lovers indulge themselves in each other. I instantly imagined those lovers were the driver and me. So much for distracting myself.
I took my hand and wiped off some of the condensation from the glass to get a better view passing me by as we zipped down the busy streets. The sights of the city pleased me. The historic struc¬tures took my breath away, and the brilliant street lights casted an ethereal yellow glow on the night. I craned my neck a bit to get a better view of the ancient city shimmering and the grandeur of its Gothic and Romanesque architecture standing majestic and erect, as if welcoming my existence into their world. The driver made a sharp turn which made my coat fall slightly, exposing more of my shoulder, collar bone, and cleavage. I wouldn’t dare to glance over to see if the driver’s lustful eyes had happened to witness this. The thought alone was enough to provoke my sensual responses. I teas¬ingly removed my coat, then tossed my hair to one side. The driver cleared his throat yet again and accelerated his speed, running a red light. The increasing heat building within the limo was thrilling!
The haze on the windows reached its peak where I could no longer see anything, despite my best efforts to keep wiping away the mist. I rolled down my window to let the air in to help lessen some of the built-up haze. Right away, my ears were brimming with the heartbeat of Prague at 7:15pm.
Meet SEELIE KAY
Seelie Kay engages in flights of fancy about lawyers in love, drawing on a vivid imagination, an inquisitive mind, and more than 25 years in the legal world.
After stints as a journalist and lawyer, Seelie hung out her shingle as a freelance writer, editor, and author. When not spinning her kinky tales, Seelie ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals.
Seelie resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.
Seelie is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. We will find a cure!
Title: Kinky Briefs, Thrice
Genre: Erotic romance, contemporary romance
Release date: 9/8/17
Lawyers get their kink on in this sizzling collection of short stories. Through the eyes of a lawyer toiling away in the backroom of a law firm, a wicked window into the legal world opens as she spins her outrageous tales of lawyers in love, cranky judges, and those who serve them. From a randy AG who uses his cycle to woo a young law firm associate, to a Sheikh and lawyer in a fight for their lives, or a kinky lawyer struggling to adapt to a diagnosis of a crippling, chronic illness to a rowdy fantasy about a new sheriff in town, each lawyer attacks life with humor and passion, always ready to embrace just a dash of kink. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you might even blush, but one thing’s for certain, when you’re done reading, you’ll run out and buy a set of handcuffs!
Chapter One: For Better Or Worse
Love is hard, and frankly, not everyone is up to challenge. From my tiny little cubicle at the law firm, I have witnessed marriages crumble at the slightest complication, but I have also seen relationships thrive in the face of crises. After observing a myriad of sordid tales, is it any wonder that only a partner who loves unconditionally will do? No slack-jawed, limp-dicked bozo for me. No siree! Give me strong, compassionate, and of course, hot, anytime.
“Arrrgh!” Katia Munk Hrulata exclaimed as she slapped the electronic panel that was supposed to open the front doors to the old Cook County courthouse.
“Problems, Munk?” a smooth, male voice behind her asked.
Munk jerked her wheelchair around and slammed into the legs of Jonathon Greene, her opposing counsel and former lover. She glared at the man as he rubbed the side of his left calf, bunching the trousers to his tailored gray pin-striped suit in his hand, revealing a gray and maroon argyle sock.
“For crying out loud, Munk. Will you be careful with that thing? You drive it like it’s a damn tank.” Though Greene sounded irritated, his bright green eyes were filled with humor. He ran a hand threw his shaggy blonde hair and pursed his lips in mock frustration. “One of these days, I may have to defend you for manslaughter by wheelchair.”
Munk grinned. “Are you telling me a big bad boy like you is afraid of defenseless little ole me?” She put a hand over her heart and fluttered her eyelashes. “Be still my lonely little heart.”
Greene smirked. “I told you before, they should have given you training wheels with that thing. You are a menace to society.” He grabbed the heavy metal doors and opened them, ushering Munk inside, careful to stand out of her way.
Katia had been nicknamed Munk in college. Although she was blessed with the aristocratic porcelain features of her Czech ancestors, she had also been cursed with chubby cheeks, ones that puffed out like the furry rodents memorialized in the cartoon, The Chipmunks. When Alvin became all the rage among her college companions, the resemblance was quickly noted and the nickname stuck. Eventually, Chipmunk was shortened to Munk. Although Munk had graduated from law school ten years before, the full cheeks remained. So did the nickname.
“Dammit, Roland, those blasted doors are not working again,” Munk complained as she approached the security guard. She handed him her purse and briefcase and rolled around the metal detector. “Someday, some disability rights group is going to sue your ass off for failing to comply with accessibility standards, and I’ll be right there with them.”
Meet SHA RENÉE
Sha Renée is a native New Yorker who joined the US Navy right after high school. She now lives in New Jersey where she creates stories on the pages where duty, honor and passion unite.
A true nature lover, Sha enjoys spending time outdoors, usually with a camera in her hands. She’s has a passion for motorcycles and sports cars and is a fan of auto racing, military air shows and The X Games – pretty much any activity with fast wings or wheels.
She hates cooking, loves music and believes every day should include a cup of hot coffee and a glass of chilled wine.
CONNECT WITH SHA
Title: Forbidden Kisses
Genre: Military Romance
Release Date: December 2, 2016
Series: Anchored Hearts
When Navy pilot, Ethan Parker falls for the woman he met at a coffee shop, he knows she’s the one he’s waited his entire life for. She’s sensual, sassy and smart. What he doesn’t know is she’s also in the Navy, and her enlisted rank means a relationship with her could get him discharged from military service.
While on leave from teaching at a top Naval facility, Layla Matthews tumbles head-over-heels for the sexiest man she’s encountered in a long time. The fact that he can hold an intelligent conversation is an added bonus. Her world is turned upside down when she later discovers he’s a Navy lieutenant. A senior officer. Her new boss. Definitely off-limits.
Continuing their relationship could ruin their military careers. Ending it would break both their hearts. Will they end their sizzling romance or keep it a secret… and pray no one finds out?
The light from the screen of my laptop illuminated the dark room and Layla’s sleeping form. Beautiful. Did she have any idea that I was in love with her?
The Navy’s rules and regulations were not foreign to me. I scoured the internet in hopes of finding an exception to the policies that were firmly in place. Something—anything—that would mean I didn’t have to give her up. Several words and phrases stood out, each causing my heart to rip a little more: ‘personal relationships between officers and enlisted personnel prohibited’; ‘undermines the respect for authority’; ‘appearance of preferential treatment’; ‘compromises the chain of command’; ‘Court Martial’; ‘punishment’; ‘dishonorable discharge’; ‘2 years confinement’.
Prison? Are you fucking kidding me?
Anger, sorrow, and hopelessness combined like a three-cord rope, binding my heart, my hands, and my entire being.
I stood abruptly, knocking the chair to the floor with a thud. Fuck this. Fuck RJ for not being here to talk me through this shit. Fuck this whole situation. With a powerful sweep from the back of my arm, my laptop slid across the desk and landed on the floor.
Layla sat up in bed. Her beautiful brown eyes regarded me without fear or judgment.
How long had she been watching?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Don’t apologize for expressing your feelings.” She patted the bed next to her. “Come here.”
I sat close to her and she rubbed my back, soothing me with her comforting touch.
“What were you reading that upset you?”
“The Uniform Code of Military Justice.”
“What did it say?”
“It said we’re f*****.”
“I like it when we f***.”
I loved her mischievous smirk. “I do, too, Baby Girl. But this time, it’s not in a good way.”
“So what do we do?” She was looking to me for guidance.
“I don’t want to let you go.” I put my head in her lap and let my eyes close, shutting out the world for a little longer.
“I don’t want to let you go, either.” She continued rubbing my back in slow circles, which made me momentarily forget that everything was falling apart.
Meet SHELLY LEE
Shelly Lee was born in Pierce County, Washington. She was raised in Bon Wier, TX from the age of 8 to 22. Shelly is a single parent with two children; a 21 year old daughter and a 19 year old son. Shelly holds an Associate degree in Business and Computer Information Systems and a Bachelor degree in Applied Arts and Sciences. Shelly enjoys reading, writing, spending time with her children, and helping others. Shelly is a queen of trades such as tutoring, helping people find jobs, filing simple taxes, writing, and encouraging others. Her desire is to have a closer walk with God daily, improve herself and her family life, and help others.
Title: God Spoke and I Listened
Genre: Christian Inspiration
Release date: August 2, 2016
This book is a testimony of the messages and lessons that God has given me through the years. The messages touch on subjects dealing with single parenthood, making changes in my life regarding friends and relationships, trusting and believing in God to meet my various needs, seeing God’s goodness in my life, and various other messages.
Some of the the lessons He taught me were hard to learn, but I am better now because of them. My prayer is that these messages will encourage and inspire others as they travel the Christian journey. The journey is filled with trials and tribulations, but with God’s help, you can make it each and every time. May God be glorified and you be blessed as you follow my journey.
Joy? What Is The Joy Thing About?
Per Webster, joy is defined in 3 ways
1. A feeling of great happiness
2. A source or cause of great happiness: something or someone that gives joy to someone
3. Success in doing, finding, or getting something
Now in this Christian walk, I have experienced trials and tribulations, ups and downs. Sometimes I feel like I have more downs than ups. I mean think about it. As a single parent, I have raised two children alone. I don’t have a husband. I don’t have a vehicle. Money is so tight that I never know how we are going to make it till next payday. Sometimes I don’t know where the next meal is going to come from.
The other day in Bible study the teacher said that in spite of all we go through, we are still supposed to have joy. Excuse me! Now I just said my lights are about to get cut off. I just said I need money for my blood pressure and diabetic medications. I just said that I am down to the last roll of toilet paper and yet I should be joyful? How is that possible? If the bad outweighs the good, then where does joy fit in? What merit is there to be happy? Being that I have all these problems, when do I have time to be happy? Be joyful for what?
Well I had to go to see what this joy thing was about.
Purchase via PayPal using Shelly’s email address email@example.com or on Amazon .
Title: The Sheldra Series-An Unknown Love-Book One
Genre: Christian Inspiration Fiction
Release date: August 2, 2017
Sheldra Griffing is a woman on a mission. She considers herself an 8 when it comes to looks, education, and responsibility. She does her best at whatever task is given to her. She is a business woman, a mother, and a daughter. Sheldra loves the Lord and does her best to abide by His Word. So what is Sheldra’s problem? The only thing Sheldra has issues with is MEN. Her first issue is that she desires to be married but has no prospects. She often wonders will it ever happen for her. Her second issue is that she grew up in a single parent home without a father. Sheldra could not understand why her dad did not have a relationship with her. Many nights she cried on her pillow because she did not know her dad. Follow Sheldra’s story, as she experiences a short lived relationship with a father she never knew in an UNKNOWN LOVE!
Honor thy father and mother; which is the first commandment with promise – Ephesians 6:2
On July 15, 1995, I noticed that Mama was always on the phone. She stayed on the phone for long periods. I said, “Mama who are you talking to for six straight hours?”
Mama responded, “Your Aunt Sweet T.”
I immediately said, “Who is Aunt Sweet T?”
Mama said, “Your dad’s sister.”
I said, “Oh” and went back to what I was doing. I do not know who Aunt Sweet T is. I don’t even know how many brothers or sisters Sheldon has.
Mama knew that she made me mad every time she said “your dad” but she continued to do so.
During this time, I was 21 years old with a one-year-old daughter. Noelle had just turned one 3 days earlier (Kendrick was not in the picture yet). I did not care to be acquainted with the Griffing side. My maternal side was all I knew. No one from the Griffing side had ever contacted me up to this point.
For the next two days, Mama was constantly talking to Sheldon’s sister. I really wanted to know the meaning behind all this. Aunt Sweet T had not been calling or communicating so why now. What did she want? Why didn’t she ask to speak to me? What was really going on? How soon would these calls cease? I needed answers Right Now!
On Saturday evening, Claire called me to the den. I was upstairs organizing my books. Noelle was swinging in her swing. I took her out of the swing and we walked down the stairs swinging our hands.
I said, “Yes Mama.”
She said, “Sit down Sheldra, we need to talk.” I sat down unwillingly. I already had my guard up to prepare for whatever Claire had to say. I felt that it was something that I did not care to hear.
Claire said, “Your dad is very sick, and he wants to meet you.”
I just looked at Claire in silence for a few moments.
Then I let it rip. “First of all, your dad? What dad? There has been no dad in my life.”
“Second of all, now that Sheldon is sick, he wants to meet me!” Isn’t that lovely! “What about the years when he was traveling all over Africa? “I shouted.
“Third of all, so what. I don’t care and I am not going. Is there anything else, you need Mother?”
Claire was livid. We were both sitting down at the time, but she got up and put her hands on her hips. When she put her hands on her hips, that was the “oh you done ran me hot and I am about to tell you off” pose!
With a stern look on her face, Claire said, “Sheldra, you know better. I did not raise you like this. I have always taught you to be the bigger person.
I responded in a calm manner, “What does my upbringing and being the bigger person have to do with this?”
Claire gave me the eyes and said, “Now listen up”. How many of you had the encounter with the eyes? The eyes meant you better get it together or else I will do it for you. “We are leaving on Monday to travel to Virginia via Greyhound bus. Get Noelle and your clothes together. I don’t want to hear another word! You are going because I said so. You are the child and I am the parent. Now you are dismissed!”
I was going to take Noelle back upstairs with me but I needed a moment. Mama got my blood boiling. Let’s see, last I checked, I was grown too. I am definitely not a child. I knew not to verbalize what I was saying in my mind. But Mama just doesn’t know that I am not the one. I do not appreciate being forced to go see Sheldon. Sheldon had not cared about me all this time. Why was she so insistent? What was in it for her?
I mumbled to myself “Why should I care about him being sick? He played no part in my life other than impregnating my mother. Why does the show have to stop for him? Who made him in charge?
Meet VINCE DOWDLE, JR.
Vince Dowdle Jr. has been writing since he learned how to write. Fortunately all of the early stuff has been shredded, burned, or eaten. In 1982 he co-authored The Philadelphia Sampler of Photographs Past and Present. He maintains a blog (sporadically… very sporadically) http://www.vladdio.com in which he duels (literarily) with internet scammers. His most current success is a comic fantasy, Big Change Gonna Come, http://www.VinceDowdleJr.com. He’s available for speaking engagements though he’s never done that before (so you’ve been warned), and he’s available for lunch and dinner most days. Breakfast information is available upon request.
Title: Big Change Gonna Come
Genre: Humor; Fantasy
Release date: March 8, 2015
Vic has a genie that he’d like to kill. Well, maybe kill is too harsh a word. But he’d sure like to kick his ass.
Still, who could blame him? Omar, a 1,200 year- old genie, is about as unlikeable as a genie can get – to men. But not to women.
And when he’s not charming women, he’s making Vic’s life a living hell. What with all of the pranks, the insults, and – hey, is he really going after Vic’s girlfriend?
But there’s an easy fix for Vic. All he’s got to do is come up with three perfect wishes really fast, and Omar is out of his life, forever.
Sure. It sounds easy. But what does Vic want? What should he wish for? And how should he wish for it?
Because if Vic doesn’t say his wishes just right, Omar could steal from somebody… or hurt somebody… or kill somebody… or kill lots of people… or destroy the planet… or…
Well, that would suck.
What would you wish for?