"Vampires Romance to Rippers an Anthology of Tasty Stories" by Scarlette D’Noire and others

Vampires Romance to Rippers
an Anthology of Tasty Stories
by Scarlette D’Noire and others
Vampires Romance to Rippers an Anthology of Tasty Stories is on tour with Bewitching Book Tours. The tour stops here today with a spotlight on three of the sixteen authors involved in this project. Be sure to visit all of the other tour stops as well.
You can also join the Facebook event for your chance to win ebooks or a $25 Amazon gift card.
Vampires! Sixteen authors give you a glimpse into the dark worlds of lost love, murderous rage, and undeniable sex appeal where deadly quests and blood lust spanning centuries of time reign supreme. Explore some of the most unique vampires to exist on this side of the grave.
Essays, excerpts, and short stories from award winning authors Karen Dales, Kurt Kamm, Bertena Varney, and more. They will entertain you, thrill you, and bewilder you as they reveal the dark secrets of the most beloved creatures of the night, including eleven times bestselling author Terri Reid, creator of the Mary O’Reilly Series.
So, which will it be: the romantic vampire, the revenant vampire, the elemental, the fanged vampire, or the mythological female vampire?  Begin reading and find out!
A delightful collection of stories that lets you sample the sweet, the conflicted and the menacing varieties of fanged night creatures. It is highly successful as an anthology. You’re sure to find some new and exciting writers as well as some favorites. The variety offered is sure to please, like all good Buffets, it offers something for everyone’s taste. After nibbling on these creative little offerings, you are sure to find some sweet surprises and some new favorites. An easy read that leaves you craving more.
Excerpt from “A Different Kind of Vampire” by Sherri Jordan-Asble

We descended into the darkness of the cave and came to the dead end, and an empty wall. A small fissure ran from floor to ceiling, and if you turned sideways, you could squeeze into the wall. The doors that had been there before no longer existed. Delaney looked at me with doubt. “I thought you said there were doors?”
“Uh-huh, there were.”
“Not now?”
I looked at her and shrugged, and then shined the light into the fissure. The saloon-like doors had disappeared, but there was a large hollow big enough to have held a saloon. “Come on,” I said as we slipped in. “Do you think you’ll be able to find this to get out by yourself?” I asked her.
“I’ll have to.”
I shined the light around. No balcony, no stairs, no piano, no bar, no broken glass on the floor. “This isn’t at all like you said, Summer.” I could feel her doubt, palpable on my skin.
“This thing inside me is a vampire. Don’t tempt it with emotion.” I swallowed back my own fear.
Delaney took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m just saying.”
“I know.” I did know. I didn’t understand it all myself.
I walked over to where the bar had been. My hiking boots crunched, but when I shined my light on the ground, it was pebbles I stepped on, not glass. I followed the wall around to where the door to the storage room should have been, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Delaney,” I called out, beckoning to her with my free arm. I pointed the flashlight on the door. It stood open and the bar unlatched. “This is it.”
“Thank God,” she whispered, then caught herself.
“No, you’re right.” I nodded. “I’m going in. Make sure I’m in and bar the door. Then, get the hell out of here and don’t look back.”
Delaney nodded. Her fear slowly started to rise and I could taste it like cotton candy on my tongue. I swallowed hard and ignored it. I knew I had to get in before the Thing could take over, but I couldn’t move. I felt It sliding uncomfortably around under my skin.
“Go, Summer. Do it.” Delaney said forcefully.
I felt the Thing trying to come up and out, and I screamed. A horrible screeching sound ripped out of my throat. “No! Run, Delaney! Get out!”
Interview With Author BellaDonna Drakul

What was your favorite experience working on the Vampires Romance to Rippers an Anthology of Tasty Stories? There were so many wonderful experiences I had while working on this anthology. I loved creating new vampire characters that my readers have never heard of. It’s been several months since I’ve written about vampires and bringing new ones to life was the breath of fresh air I needed. Oddly enough, the word limit was a real challenge but something I enjoyed as well.  But most of all, working with such great authors on  a brilliant anthology series was the best overall and I truly feel honored for being included on this project.
Why did you choose the excerpt for the anthology? In An Anthology of Tasty Stories, I chose my excerpt from my story, “Forgotten Immortal”, because it is the scene where my protagonist, Benedikt Emory, truly loses his mind and exposes the identity of the vampire who haunts him. It reflects different emotions from the character and shows the readers what true insanity is like. And believe me, there is nothing more enjoyable to read than when a character goes crazy! Also in An Anthology of Risqué Stories, I chose my excerpt from my story, “A Stroke of Death”, based on the scene where my protagonist, Monsieur Drago Xiomar, becomes truly depraved and designs his most vile painting. It is quite nauseating to read especially for those with vivid imaginations. The story itself is an excerpt from one of my future books so if the story sickens you now just wait until I write it in full.
Who is your most popular character and from which book? I’m not sure if he is my “most popular character”, but my personal favorite character would have to be the overly sadistic vampire child, Synto Mythonias, from my second, third, and fifth books. Each of my books are comprised of collections of first-person-based vampire short stories and novellas (except for my fifth book) and to tie them all together, I take certain characters and place them into the next book that eventually resulted in the concept for the fifth book. In my second book, The Immortal Memoirs, I first introduce Synto as a disturbed vampire youth at a Catholic school where he enjoys torturing a particular nun he sees as “unholy” and also wreaks havoc on anyone who stands in his way. In my third book, The Kindred Confessions, Synto comes back in another tale where I will not describe here, nor his reprise in my fifth book, Chronicles of the Ancients. I would love to describe the dastardly deeds of Synto, but I cannot. Not only does it give the stories’ details away, but you need to read about this devilish child first in order to understand how he jumped from a simple idea to someone who literally haunted my dreams for months telling me to finish his story. He is truly a horrid little boy and I love him to death!
Can you share your current work with us and links to purchase? I am currently working on two novels called A Stroke of Death (the story from An Anthology of Risqué Stories) and The Sanctuary which is based off of my own paranormal experiences inside of an actual haunted horror attraction. My five novels, dubbed The Drakul Diaries, can be purchased anywhere online, such as Barnes & Noble, or directly from my publisher. You can purchase them all separately or together but if you choose to pick a particular one, here are the titles: The Vampire Collection: Short Stories for the Vampire Enthusiast, The Immortal Memoirs, The Kindred Confessions, The Undead Journals, and Chronicles of the Ancients.
Where can we find you on the web? You can pretty much find me anywhere online (type my name into any search engine) including my profile on Amazon and I’m on Facebook.
About Author Scarlette D’Noire

Originally from Chicago, Scarlette D’Noire is an American author currently residing in Florida with her husband and two furry children.
A lover of all things vampire, Scarlette has published two books, Vampires Romance to Rippers an Anthology of Tasty Stories, and Vampires Romance to Rippers an Anthology of Risqué Stories with several outstanding authors. She is currently writing two books in the Vampire Historia a Series of Revelations collection: Nicolai’s Fate and Delano’s Undoing. Scarlette D’Noire is a nom de plume used to protect the true identity of the author so she may bring Vampire Historia a Series of Revelations to light without consequences.
Author Links
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"Otherwise Unharmed: Evan Arden Trilogy #3" by Shay Savage

NOTE: This book is suitable for adults only.
Otherwise Unharmed:
Evan Arden Trilogy #3
by Shay Savage
Otherwise Unharmed is the final book in the Evan Arden Trilogy. Also available: Otherwise Alone, Otherwise Occupied, and Uncockblockable.


Otherwise Unharmed is currently on tour with MaE Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt. You can also enter the giveaway for your chance to win books Shay Savage books. Please visit all of the other tour stops as well.
After Evan Arden was imprisoned by the enemy for a year and a half, he returned from the desert as a military hero. He’d suffered some minor injuries during his captivity, was discharged from the Marines with a touch of shellshock, but was considered otherwise unharmed. Now he wonders how he ended up where he is – incarcerated in Chicago’s Metropolitan Correctional Center for using his sharpshooting expertise to take out the neighborhood park with a high-powered sniper rifle and multiple rounds of ammunition.
Lia Antonio, the woman he rescued from the desert heat the previous year, is the only person who can bring him out of his sleep-deprived psychosis and mounting PTSD. When she does, Evan knows he can’t just let her go again. He’s never considered leaving the business before – who retires from the mafia? – but he’s determined to get both Lia and himself out of harm’s way.
Evan faces overwhelming forces from multiple directions as a deal to get him out of jail turns more dangerous than he imagined. With a mob war on the horizon and the feds holding evidence over his head, Evan has no choice but to throw himself into the middle of another warzone.
In his efforts to make things right, Evan crosses the wrong man and finds himself on the business end of the crosshairs. With his acute perception and intelligence, he tries to stay a step ahead of his former co-workers, but this time, it isn’t just his own life on the line – he’s got to protect Lia from the man who once called him son.
I resisted the urge to pull out the Beretta and shove it in his face.
“I assume I have you to thank for all of this,” I muttered back.  “What the fuck do you want?”
“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t packing up to leave town or anything stupid like that,” Trent replied.  “I also wanted to make sure you realize I know exactly where you are and what you’re doing—at all times.”
I watched him closely.  He crossed his arms as he leaned casually against the door – too casually.  He was making a point of looking nonchalant, which meant he didn’t completely feel that way.  My eyes searched for other clues about him, but he was practiced in the art of being a complete and total asshole, which was throwing me off my game.
In an attempt to gain some ground, I snapped my fingers and pointed to Odin’s bed.  He quickly moved from my side and went to his place but continued to growl low at the federal agent.
“I told you I would take care of it all,” I reminded him.  “Fuck off and let me do it.”
“You’re quite the conversationalist,” he said with a snide laugh.
“I don’t converse with feds,” I snapped back.  I was immediately pissed off at myself for letting him get to me.
“Just don’t forget to take your dick out of your slut long enough to get your job done.”
I clenched my teeth and glared, trying to keep myself from just walking over and beating the living shit out of him.  I had no doubt that Johnson was nearby, and assaulting a fed in my apartment while I was out on bail wasn’t the very best idea.
“Are you going to spend a lot of time keeping me from getting shit done?” I asked through my teeth.
“I’m going to spend a lot of time making sure you are getting shit done,” Trent retorted.  “If I feel like you’re stalling, I’m going to take it out on her.  What do you think of that?”
“I think that’s an invitation to an underground party.”
We locked stares for a long moment.  Trent eventually cracked half of an insincere smile and then nodded.
“I’ll be seeing you around.”  He turned and walked out the door.
I dropped my ass on the couch and rubbed my temples.  Odin assumed he was free to leave his bed because he came up and leaned his fuzzy mug on my knee.  I rubbed at his head and tried to calm myself down a bit.
None of this was going to work.
Book Trailer
I just finished reading it. It’s one of those stories that really submerges you in its plot. It made me feel everything with its characters. I laughed, cried, it made me so angry at times and then happy again. It was a real roller-coaster and that’s what makes a good story, in my opinion. It’s a hard story to read at some points, but if you have read Savage’s stories before, you know that’s just how she rolls. I’m not a person that is easily surprised, yet she manages to do it with every single one of her stories. This story has action, love, sexy times, distrust, revenge; pair it with Evan’s psychological distress and this story blows up. If you read the other two books, you MUST read this one.
I couldn’t be happier with the conclusion of this series. It does feel final. The story comes to a full circle, but there is hope for Evan and Lia. I liked that given the circumstances, they manage and move forward. Evan even gets a treat at the end 😉
About the Author
Shay Savage lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband, two children, and a variety of household pets. She is an accomplished public speaker, and holds the rank of Distinguished Toastmaster from Toastmasters International. When not writing, she enjoys science fiction movies, and loves soccer in any and all forms. During the fall, she coaches her daughter’s soccer team. Though she currently works in the technology field, her school background is in psychology, and she brings a lot of that knowledge into the characters within her stories.
Enter the tour-wide giveaway for your chance to win Shay Savage books.

"Illuminating Gracie" by Lisa C. Temple

Illuminating Gracie
by Lisa C. Temple
Illuminating Gracie by Lisa C. Temple is now on tour with I am a Reader, Not a WriterThe tour stops here today for an interview with the author. You can also enter the tour-wide giveaway for your chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash.  Please visit all of the other tour stops as well.
As an old woman’s lifeless body lies on a cold stone floor, her soul stands before an angel who offers her a miraculous opportunity: the chance to do it all again. But that is easier said than done. In order to change the path her life has taken, she must put aside years of self-loathing and pain, so she can help the young girl she once was become the woman she should have been.
At 17 years old, Grace Bennett is a bitter young woman. Though blessed with a loving family, looks and brains to spare, she hides her light under a bushel, spending most of her time in the darkness of her mind with little more than sarcasm and self-pity to keep her company.
But things are about to change for Grace. While delivering food for her family’s bed and breakfast, she turns onto a desolate dirt road and drives straight into her destiny.
It’s on this isolated country lane that the damaged girl meets a strangely familiar old couple and two mysterious young men. Together the group fights the demons that surround Grace, and they teach her what it means to let her light shine.
Illuminating Gracie is, at once, a metaphorical tale of the fight between good and evil and a spiritual saga of one girl’s journey from darkness into the light. If you liked Twilight and The Hunger Games, you will love the story of Gracie.
As if able to read my thoughts, he leaned in even closer, affording me full access to his aroma, and in a husky, almost whisper beseeched, “Please … tell me your name.”
I have no logical explanation for my body’s reaction to his hushed entreaty. My pulse flew matching my heart rate, while every pore and fiber of my skin went on high alert, going hot and cold virtually simultaneously. For once, I was grateful for the dark and the cover it provided my blushing face.
The worst part of the whole thing was that I had the distinct feeling Merc not only knew what embarrassing reactions his close proximity caused in my traitorous body, but he intended on eliciting just those responses. Whether it was my sapped energy from the drama of the night or my own sad lack of experience in the area of male/female relations, I had no resources available to me to mount a proper defense against him. In all honesty, I couldn’t imagine why I should. After all, I knew plenty of girls that would have been on this guy like “white on rice.” Why should I get bogged down with details and unanswered questions like: Who was he really? Why was he being so nice to me? Why hadn’t Mrs. B. and Willem mentioned him?
Why should I look a gift horse in the mouth? If this “uber-hot” boy wanted to be my “knight in shining armor,” why shouldn’t I let him be just that? I had never been anyone’s “damsel in distress,” and it certainly wasn’t because I had some feminist axe to grind. No, that wasn’t it at all. It was because no one had ever applied for the position. So now I was going to ignore the warning bells, silence my fears and pack away my paranoia. For once, I was going to be the one with the romantic story to tell at the lunch table on Monday, instead of the one listening on the far fringes and replying with the obligatory “oohs” and “ahs” to the stories told by all the braver, more beautiful, more fortunate girls.
Having solved my inner conflicts, I answered him with a breath- less and what I hoped was sexy voice, “Grace, my name is Grace.”
I wanted him to say something like my name was beautiful. That would play well with the lunchtime listeners. But, to my surprise, he seemed almost irritated.
“Ha … ha ha,” he barked a short laugh. “Yeah, that’s about right. Well, come on, Grace – let’s get you home.”
I was a little disconcerted by his reaction. Huh … weird. What should my name have been? Veronica … Candy … Jinx?
Never one to keep my mouth shut, I opened it, ready to ask him if he preferred stripper names, but before I could get a word out Merc’s whole body stiffened and he jerked his head sharply to the right. I strained to see what he saw or heard to create such a reaction in him. The only thing visible was the dim outline of the tremendous back portion of the mansion that was softly lit by landscape lighting buried deep in the bushes.
I looked at Merc, wanting an explanation for his behavior. “What’s the problem? Did you hear something … somebody?” I whispered. If he had heard something, then he had better ears than I. Of course, I was hyper-focused on the visual treat that was standing next to me. A hurricane could have blown through, and I might not have noticed.
Praise for Illuminating Gracie
“A well-paced fantasy story of redemption and self-improvement.” ~ Kirkus Review (Sept. 1, 2013 Magazine)
“Just the right amount of love story to the action packed plot line left this book a perfectly balanced read.” ~ Maryann (Amazon “Top 1000” Reviewers)
“The story also contains little mysteries that keep you turning the pages, as gems of insight turn up along the way. It is a story of hope and redemption, and a beautiful request of each of us to let our light shine brightly.” ~ Kimberly Raadt Higgins (Amazon Review)
“On a personal level, I can relate to Grace in so many ways. As I read, a lot of memories and feelings from my teenage and young adult years have come flooding back, some a little painful, others fun and exciting, even hopeful. Yet it also has me contemplating where I am today as a middle-aged adult; am I who I thought I would be, who I want to be?” ~ N.J. Collar (Amazon Review)
“The plot is masterfully drawn and keeps the reader guessing until the end. This book tells the story of the fight between good and evil in a young woman’s life. It is brilliant in its use of humor and emotion to draw the reader into the characters.” ~ J. Pitts (Amazon and Goodreads)
Interview with the Author
Hi Lisa, thanks for joining me today to discuss your new book, Illuminating Gracie.
Thank you very much for having me!
Which writers have influenced you the most?
I don’t think I can point to any one author. I’ve been a voracious reader my entire life, and I think I’ve probably subconsciously picked up a little something from every author I’ve read. My interests and favorites are widely varied – everything from Shakespeare to Stephenie Meyers – The Bronte sisters to David Baldacci.
What age group do you recommend your book for?
When writing the book, the age group I had in mind was 13 and up with a concentration on high school age kids. I’ve been surprised to find that the book resonates with a much broader age range. I have women in their 50s and 60s that have written me to praise Illuminating Gracie.
What sparked the idea for this book?
The idea came from my own desire to go back in time and change some of the things I’d done. When my father was diagnosed with a terminal illness, I became obsessed with the idea – or wish, really – of going back to my younger years and changing my behavior. My teens and 20s were fraught with problems. Depression, addiction, food disorders – you name it – I had it. I caused my father and mother so much pain. I just wanted those years back so bad. I finally turned to writing to find some peace.
Which comes first? The character’s story or the idea for the novel?
It may not always be this way – but, in Illuminating Gracie, the idea definitely came first.
What was the hardest part to write in this book?
I know this sounds nuts, but I’ve always felt that I was meant to write Illuminating Gracie. None of it was hard because I would just sit down and it would come out. There were times that I honestly couldn’t remember writing the words. It sounds so hokey – so corny – to say I felt like I had divine help – and if somebody had told me I would say that 3 years ago, I would have laughed at them. But, the fact is, I believe I did have help.
How do you hope this book affects its readers?
Well, first and foremost, I hope the readers have a good time. But also I’d like them to come away feeling a sense of hope. I’d like to think that if someone were out there feeling hopeless – it might give them a sense that it is never too late to make a change. Yeah – that would be nice. That would make all the work way past worth it!
How long did it take you to write this book?
I was taking care of my father the entire time I was writing Illuminating Gracie, so there were many days I didn’t write at all. When I did write it would be 30 minutes here and 20 minutes there. I even went about three months without writing anything – I guess I just lost my “hope” for a bit. But, then I started back with a vengeance. Start to finish – two years.
How did you get your book published?
Once I really started writing in earnest (after I’d quit for three months), it became my goal to have Illuminating Gracie in writing before my father passed away. I studied the whole “publishing” system and I knew right away that I would not be able to find an agent, secure a deal and get the book in writing before Dad died. So, I studied self-publishing and finally decided to go through Amazon’s CreateSpace. I’ve been very happy with them so far.
Did you enjoy school?
Much like Gracie in the book, I had what I would call an “authority issue.” I was also extremely ADD and had a lot of difficulty staying in class. Some of the first creative writing I did was the notes I wrote and signed my parents names to, requesting I be allowed to leave school! I had a good memory and did well on tests, so fortunately I maintained a good GPA – I just couldn’t sit still. Some of the best teachers I had understood this about me and looked the other way.
Did you like reading when you were a child?
My mother started throwing my bodice-rippers into the fireplace by the time I was in third grade! I’d moved on to adult mysteries by fifth grade. I never went anywhere without two things: a book and my guitar.
Do you hear from your readers much? What kinds of things do they say?
Yes, I do – quite often – and I can’t tell you how much it means to me. To know that something I said – something I wrote – resonated with another person in the universe is about the coolest thing in the world. Most often they talk about my main character, Gracie. Almost every person that writes me tells me that they see themselves in Gracie. I not surprised that people connect with her because she comes from such an honest place. Her attitude, her fears and her insecurities are all 100% me. I might not have been a military “brat” or an introvert, but Gracie’s insides  are my insides. I think people respond to that kind of honesty.
What can we look forward to from you in the future?
Instigating Gracie will be out in early 2014. Gracie’s got a lot of livin’ to do!
Thank you for taking the time to stop by today. Best of luck with your future projects.
Thank you so much. I appreciate the opportunity to talk with you!

About the Author
On thirty-nine Senior scrolls, the Headmaster of author, Lisa C. Temple’s, small, private school wrote “Good Luck and best wishes for a prosperous future!” On the fortieth and final scroll, which was Temple’s, the Headmaster penned the words, “Lisa, I can’t wait to see to what use you put your unusual talents!” Temple spent the next 30 years trying to assuage her former leader’s curiosity – and her own.
She sold BMWs in her hometown of Montgomery, Alabama, and hillbillies (as a booking agent) in Nashville, Tennessee. In an effort to escape the enforced servitude of the Junior League, she even attended and was graduated from law school and passed the Alabama State Bar exam in 2002. Through it all, she battled problems and illnesses, many of her own making. But, it wasn’t until her father – her hero – was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s Disease (ALS), that Temple found her true calling – the “talent” that she finds joy in putting to use.
Illuminating Gracie is loosely autobiographical and born from a desire to, if only, metaphorically right the wrongs of Temple’s own past. It tells the story of a miserable old woman who is given the opportunity – by an angel – to go back in time and help the young girl she once was become the woman she should have been. Illuminating Gracie is the first book in a four-book series. The second book, Instigating Gracie, is due for release in December 2013.
Temple laughs when saying she has a loving and complicated husband she deserves, and a wonderful son and two loving stepchildren that she does not. She also shares her life with her beloved pets: Pomeranian, Phebe; Bordernese, Flash; and Tabby cat, Minx.
Enter the tour-wide giveaway for your chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash.

"The Shadow of the Unicorn: The Legacy" by Suzanne de Montigny

The Shadow of the Unicorn:
The Legacy
by Suzanne de Montigny
The Shadow of the Unicorn: The Legacy by Suzanne de Montigny is a middle grade fantasy suitable of ages nine and up. Half of all proceeds of the sale of this book go to the Third World Eye Care Society, a group of eye specialists who travel to third world countries with thousands of pairs of glasses and perform eye surgery for free. Be sure to enter the giveaway below. This Book Blast is brought to you by Mother Daughter Book Promotions.
A loud, hissing sound filled the air. The unicorns looked up, their eyes filled with horror.
Azaria, a unicorn colt, is intrigued when the young clairvoyant dinosaur, Darius, foresees a terrifying change in the world. When a giant fireball smashes into the earth, the unicorns struggle to survive the hurricanes and starvation that follow. Danger of a more sinister nature threatens when the creatures-that-walk-on-two-legs settle in the valley and their leader, Ishmael, discovers the healing power of the unicorns’ horns. Azaria, now a young stallion, must use his wits to save the herd from complete extinction.
Book Trailer
The Buzz
“Kudos to Ms. de Montigny for writing an original variation on the fantasy epic – unicorns intermingling with dinosaurs! The book’s themes include the humane and environmental concerns that Watership Down and the films of Hayao Miyazaki have in common. If you have a middle grader or are just young at heart, pick up The Shadow Of The Unicorn.” ~ 5 Star Review, Stuart W., Amazon
The Shadow of the Unicorn is a must-read for all unicorn lovers, but even more so for the ones, like myself, who hadn’t read anything about them yet. It is a thrilling and encouraging story about a young unicorn that has to save his herd after a meteor nearly destroyed their environment and killed the dinosaurs. Suzanne de Montigny created a compelling universe with believable characters and a great adventure story to challenge them with. While the story finishes in this book, I can’t wait to read about the new adventures the unicorns will face.” ~ 5 Star Review, Antje H., Amazon
“This story pulled me in with a beautiful portrayal of a time and place where unicorns and dinosaurs live side by side. It moved me forward with unexpected twist and turns (a requirement in any good story). I found it hard to put the book down and was totally engaged in seeing the young characters (unicorns and dinosaurs) survive and grow because of the challenges they faced.” ~ 5 Star Review, NW Harris, Amazon
“I just finished reading The Shadow of the Unicorn. What a story teller Suzanne de Montigny is. She combined unicorns with dinosaurs and spun a tail of magic that kept me turning the pages, not to mention throwing in an evil that came in the form of a human! What an enjoyable story – and here I thought these mystic animals were extinct. I just didn’t know what to look for!” ~ 5 Star Review, Penny E., Amazon
“What a delightfully unique book. Unicorns and dinosaurs facing changing conditions. Darius is a young dinosaur capable of seeing the future. Azaria is a young unicorn who becomes a friend and learns from Darius. Yes, there are humans in this book. They are the villains of the story. Greedy beasts. I think both boys and girls will love this story. Very quick paced and easy to read. A delightful story, and I look forward to more from this author.~ 5 Star Review, DM Lawrence, Amazon
About the Author
Suzanne de Montigny wrote her first unicorn story at the age of twelve. Several years later, she discovered it in an old box in the basement, thus reigniting her love affair with unicorns. The Shadow of the Unicorn: The Legacy, is her first novel. She is currently working on book two in the series. Suzanne lives in Burnaby, B.C. with the three loves of her life – her husband and two boys.

Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win your choice of $25 Amazon Gift Card or PayPal cash.

"Running Against Traffic" by Gaelen VanDenbergh

Running Against Traffic
by Gaelen VanDenbergh
Running Against Traffic by Gaelen VanDenbergh is on tour with Masquerade Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and my review. Make sure you visit all of the other tour stops as well, and don’t forget to enter the giveaway!
Paige Scott is done in. Done for. Done with it. Having spent her childhood shuffled between relatives who ignored her, and her adult life hiding within the walls of her relationships with men, she is prepared to live out her empty days in her crumbling marriage to David Davenport. David has other plans, however, and flings her into a remote, impoverished world, in stark contrast to the wealthy cosmopolitan one that was all she knew. Here she is forced to face the betrayals of her past and learn, for the first time, how to care for herself, and for others.
Hilarity and tragedy, addictions, unexpected friendships, and Paige’s discovery of running and the relief it brings propel her on her journey toward the mending of a broken spirit, and learning how to truly live. Step by step, mile by mile.
                        When Paige told me all about it, it was well over a year since the shit had hit her fan, but those solemn brown eyes don’t lie, and she had forgotten nothing. Still, she asked “You do believe me, don’t you Chloe?”

         I assured her I did. “That would happen to you, Paige. It should.”
         She nodded. “Thank you,” she said. She tucked her dark hair behind her ears and smiled a smile of one peeking around a corner at something enticing. She looked past me, into space. Around the corner. Into the new room.
         On a sweltering Saturday in June, David Davenport announced to his wife Paige that he had purchased a vacation home for them in Wells Lake, a town in northern Pennsylvania that Paige had never heard of. Philadelphia had been hit by an early heat wave, but they had left their air-conditioned condo on Rittenhouse Square to sip sauvignon blanc at a wrought iron table outside Café Rouge. The table teetered every time Paige set down her glass, and she was so absorbed by it tilting her way, and then David’s way, and then her way again, as if switching loyalties, that she barely heard what he said about taking her to see the house the following weekend. She wiped cold condensation from her water glass onto her napkin and held the icy glass up to her face, pressing it to each cheek. “What are we talking about?” she murmured, not looking up. She set her glass down and fingered around the table for something to tuck under the table leg.
         “…About a four hour drive from here, Tioga County,” David was saying when she finally gave up her search and looked up at him. He was wearing a yellow polo shirt, which was not his color.  The collar was neatly pressed, and his Ray Bans rested on top of his full, sandy brown hair that he liked to gel and tousle. Women found him handsome. Over the course of their ten year relationship, Paige had watched them flock and twitter. He was like a colt, Solid, broad in the chest for his height, always tossing his head and chewing the bit. But now she could barely hear him. He was talking into the stifling breeze and looking through her. “We’ll leave around noon on Friday to miss the weekend traffic.”
         Paige squinted through her sunglasses. “There’s traffic headed that way?” she asked, words sticking in the thick air around her. “We’ll see. I have to check my calendar. I’m not sure what’s going on next weekend.” She picked through her purse for her phone,mentally thumbing through potential escape plans. She was certain that she could figure out some excuse for not going. If David needed a weekend getaway to go fishing or bushwhacking, or to attend a tractor pull, or whatever one did in places like that, he could go by himself. Or, god forbid, if he felt the two of them needed a romantic pick-me-up or a literal roll in the hay, she was absolutely not going. Not that he had even vaguely attempted a single romantic gesture in ages. Not that she wanted him to. Not that. No.
         He stared at her across the table, expressionless, but she felt a sudden cool ripple of trepidation run through her blood. David was never still. He picked up his water glass and took a swig from it, catching an ice cube and chewing it crudely in his whitened teeth.  “We’re going,” he said, practically dropping the glass back down, forefinger and thumb splayed in the air for a moment longer. “You have nothing else to do.” Then he smiled, forced and tight. Paige could do nothing but nod in terse agreement. Damn, she thought. Damn.
         The waitress approached their table and inquired if they had looked at the menu but neither of them was hungry. She left them the check for the drinks, which they sat and sipped for a while longer, silent, watching the city stream by.
         The journey to Wells Lake was long and tedious. Heavy quiet mixed with carsickness. Paige settled back into the leather seats of David’s Lexus SUV, their weekend bags carelessly packed and tossed in the back. It was only two days, she reminded herself, but why did he have to buy a vacation house there, of all places. Why not a beach house in Brigantine or Margate, even though she loathed the Shore, or simply somewhere that she had seen and agreed to beforehand. She was extremely annoyed with David, and she was not about to put on a cheerful face and make the weekend pleasant for him. He was not inclined to chat either, and so they drove over highways, then through towns steadily dwindling in size and civilization, just your average acrimonious married couple, getting away from it all. The sun shone on her bare legs through the sun roof.  She stretched them out and leaned her head against the leather head rest, studying the passing scenery.
         The trip stretched on, leading them over highways flanked by stubborn-looking trees and hills, and roads that rolled out through vast farm land of weather-beaten barns and mud-spattered grazing cows. The smell of manure hung in the air. They crossed bridges, and wound through flat towns with tiny churches and diners, towns that seemed to end as quickly as they began. And yet, the great open sky above and the unfamiliar, unwieldy land stretching before and behind them made Paige’s big city home seem like something miniature, encased in a snow globe. It was wild and unsettling.
         Welcome to Wells Lake, white lettering on a pine green sign declared, as David pulled into a small gas station on the edge of another miserable little town that appeared at first glance to be all on one road, straight ahead of them. She expected a few blocks up, where she could only glimpse a wall of forest, there was a sign that read “Come again, if you’re sure you want to.”
         David filled the tank and Paige walked up to the small shop attached to the service station. She spotted a handful of town brochures on the rack by the register that held newspapers, and a few tabloids. She perused one of the brochures, which was more like a single-sided bookmark. It explained that Wells Lake, named for an original settler, had in the early twentieth century been a trade center for a large surrounding area, and had been the site of several mills, including a saw mill, a flour mill, and a milk-condensing plant. Now, Paige discovered as she read on, the town boasted no such exciting amenities. From what she could see, as she stepped outside and squinted up the main road, it even lacked any sort of quaint village charm. No cobblestones, no flower baskets hanging from old-fashioned street lamps, no visible evidence of a bed and breakfast, or antique shops. There appeared to be only two traffic lights on the entire stretch of road, dangling from black wires, one swaying alongside a pair of shoes, tied together and hanging from their laces. 
         Paige looked back down at the bookmark. The remainder of the story of Wells Lake was summed up in one line, offering nearby fishing, free camp grounds and hiking trails in the nearby wooded park land. There was a small sketch under the blurb of a deer and a few trees, and some random black dots that she assumed represented ticks.
         Paige jumped as David honked the horn. She stuffed the brochure into her purse and hurried back to the car.
         David steered them off of the main strip. The trees and shrubbery lining the narrow road that he sped along – what the hell was his hurry? – appeared to be a jungle of weeds and bramble. Paige nervously dabbed sunscreen onto her fingertips from a tube and patted it onto her cheeks and nose.
         David drove around another bend and crunched up a rutted dirt and pebble driveway leading to a dilapidated house with a sagging front porch and peeling lime-green shutters. The siding looked like it might have been white at one time, but was now the color of dingy mop-water.
         “Gee, David, couldn’t you have had it renovated before we came out here?” Paige asked. She leaned her head back wearily. “What were you thinking? This place is clearly unsalvageable. Did you even have it inspected?”
         David sprang out of the SUV and slammed his door. Paige sighed and stepped carefully out her side, wary of where she set her shoes down. She shaded her eyes with one hand, taking a longer look at the house. God, it was terrible. She would have to convince David to sell it. She certainly was not coming back for any more weekend getaways here. But who would buy this mess? Finally she turned toward him, and nearly tripped over her bag which was on the ground beside her. David was standing by the front of the car, arms folded across his chest.
         “What’s the matter with you? Where’s your suitcase?” Paige snapped with fresh annoyance. “We might as well go in. It’s too hot to stand around out here all day.”
         “I’m not staying,” he said.
         “What? What do you mean?” Paige asked, feeling her heart begin to jump against her rib cage.
         “You’re staying. I’m going home. This,” he tossed a set of keys onto her suitcase, “is your home now. There is a bank card in your purse. Your account is with the local branch on Cherry Street. I had the utilities turned on, and I arranged for some supplies to be stocked in. That should get you started. Good luck, and goodbye.” 
         Paige felt light headed and there was a faint ringing in her ears.  She reached for the passenger-side car door handle and grasped it to steady herself. David was already climbing back in on his side. He snapped on his seatbelt and powered down the passenger window. In that instant, she saw a man she barely knew. He seemed to be wearing a mask of himself. “I’ll send you the rest of your clothes and things,” he said. “We’re through. Feel free to see other men.”
         “You feel free to see other men, too,” Paige squeaked. But she was drowned out by the revved engine as the Lexus lurched backward, forcing her to yank back her hand. The car bumped down the driveway, jerked into forward and sped around the bend and out of sight.
         Driveway dust hung around her in a cloud, suspended in the stagnant summer air as if time had slowed to a near standstill. A couple of bees circled lazily nearby and she could hear the faint buzzing. The sun burned into the top of her head. She blinked up at it like a bewildered bird pushed from its nest. Then she dropped to the hard, dry ground and sat watching the dust shimmering above the road where her husband’s truck had disappeared. The Lexus was gone, but she stared at that empty road for a long time.
         Why was this happening? Hadn’t there been happier times? A gray memory or two to make them reconsider the end? She focused on drawing in air and pushing it back out, until she could hear nothing else. The screaming inside her head ceased. Reality buzzed off with the bees, and she suddenly laughed out loud. Of course, this is one of David’s hijinks, she thought, desperately craning her neck and listening for the car, which would surely come roaring back around the bend at any moment. She had learned a long time ago that in a refreshing sort of way, David loved these tricky moves. He possessed a debonair devil-may-care attitude that Paige had both admired and envied, early into their courtship.  David loved nothing more than to buck rules and manipulate systems, especially when no one was the wiser. It became clear later that the last thing David wanted to do was change the world or bring down the corrupt. He was just a tricky rich child, and his antics made him feel taller. Paige was an extension of his outward appearance, and they could laugh at the world together in private, but in public he expected her to keep the secret, and dress, speak and act appropriately.
         This was a simple role for Paige. She was a seasoned actress in the world. She played her role expertly. For a while.
         The stream of thoughts slowed to a trickle and then a drip. It was dusk when Paige began  to fade back from her stupor. She was seated cross-legged on the sparse grass of what was now her lawn – oh god, oh god, this is my lawn, it was all rushing at her, images flashing through her mind, scenes and conversations leading up to this point. Teetering table, David staring her down, long, hot drive, gas station, David driving away. Paige clapped her hands over her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. As her mind sank into bleak quiet, she dropped her hands to her knees and focused on them until she was left with only a slow, pulsing ache in her temples.
         Her gaze shifted to the house keys on her suitcase beside her.  She would have to go inside. Eerie evening life was stirring around her. A twig snapped in one corner of the yard, as from another corner came the deep croak of what could only be a giant, mutant frog, answered by another in the shadows under the porch. Oh hell, was the house built on a swamp? She hugged her knees. They were gathering. Advancing. The shriek of hundreds of crickets pierced the evening air, and a mosquito the size of a tarantula floated an inch from her face. Heart pounding, Paige swung into action, leaping to her feet and scrambling across the yard and up onto the porch, her suitcase bumping behind her, breaking a few spindles in the porch railing as she pulled it up the steps.
         With jangly fingers she reached to jam the key into the lock, and saw with fresh horror that the front door was already slightly ajar. Her fear quickly gave way to adrenaline, and in a fit of maniacal bravado, she raised a kitten-heeled sandal and gave the door a roundhouse kick with all the strength she had. Maybe whatever was inside would be frightened and jump out a back window. The door banged open with such force that the doorknob embedded in the wall inside and stuck there. Paige hurled her suitcase into the front room, wrenched the door free of the wall, and pushed it shut. There was no lock except for the keyhole, and to her deep dismay the key kept turning in it, round and round, catching on nothing.
         Gingerly flicking on an uncovered switch in the wall, Paige looked around in the dim light and spotted a chair against the wall.  She dragged it over and propped it under the doorknob. She had seen that done in movies. It always worked. Next she had to find and turn on every other light in the house and, canister of Mace in hand, she would check through every room for squatters, human or otherwise.
         Paige looked around the archaic living room, furnished only with a threadbare sofa and armchair in lurid pink floral. The room contained no carpet, no coffee table, no high-definition flat-screened television, just a milk crate in front of the sofa that held a small, old-fashioned box TV, attached to a black cable that ran across the floor and into the wall. In the corner was an iron wood stove. The living room spilled into what she could only guess was a dining room, because it was completely bare. Well, that’s a shame, she thought. So much for dinner parties. The wood floors were dinged and scuffed, dotted with small, splintery holes.
         Beyond the dining room was a square, eat-in kitchen, the design of which appeared to be circa 1960s, because everyone involved had clearly been on quite the acid trip. The cabinets were a disturbing sunshine yellow, and every cabinet door was hung on a crooked angle. She opened the refrigerator and found bottled water, a can of ground coffee, a carton of milk and a few other food items that David must have had stocked in. How kind of him, she thought, gnashing her teeth. She grabbed one of the bottles of water and turned to face the ugliest kitchen table she had ever seen. It was oval, with four brown chairs surrounding it. Its prior owner had painted it nearly the same vile yellow as the kitchen cabinets, only brighter, making its ugliness even more startling. Its surface was made uneven by dried globs of paint and dips and dents under the paint. The splintered edges had been painted over rather than sanded. Paige shuddered and looked past it to a kitchen door, which mercifully had a key in the lock that worked when she tried it. She peeked behind a dusty gingham ruffle covering the door’s half-moon window but it had grown too dark to see anything outside.
         Her adrenaline supply was drained, and she suddenly felt deflated and weak. If there is anything scary in this house, it can have me, she thought. Leaving her suitcase where she had dropped it by the front door, she crept up the creaky stairs off of the living room and skulked through three small bedrooms and a dollhouse-sized bathroom, leaving lights on everywhere she went for some small comfort. The bedrooms were sparsely furnished, two with single beds and one with a queen sized bed, all made up with linens and blankets. Whoever had prepared the house for human occupants had assumed a family was coming.
         Paige decided numbly that she would sleep in the room with the largest bed, and in a final flailing safety gesture, she peeked under the bed, and then yanked open the closet door to see what was living inside. The door promptly broke off of its one rusted hinge and banged to the floor. Paige looked down at it for a moment, then walked around it and fell into the bed.

By Lynda Dickson

Paige and David Davenport have been married for years, supposedly living the good life. When David suddenly buys a vacation home in Wells Lake, a four hour drive away, Paige is not impressed. David insists she goes with him, but when they get there, he has another surprise in store for her – and not a good one. Left to fend for herself, and struggling with memories of a painful childhood and previous failed relationships, Paige initially copes with her depression by drinking.
Then Paige meets an array of quirky town characters, including Carmen and new roommates Al and Bryce. She takes up running, joins a Wiccan sisterhood, and starts gardening. Paige eventually stops thinking about her own troubles and starts the aptly named Life Support Group to help those others in her small community. By changing the lives of those around her, Paige slowly turns her own life around and finds her way back to herself, leaving the old Paige Davenport behind and becoming the new Paige Scott.
Running Against Traffic is well-written and full of humor and wry comments on society. The characters are all distinctive; you feel like you are watching a TV show set in a small country town. There are a few minor editing errors, but also some great phrases, e.g., “The words tumbled on the page like rolled dice or shaken salt.” All in all, this is an inspirational read.
Warnings: coarse language, drug and alcohol abuse.
About the Author
Gaelen VanDenbergh is a writer, runner, and compulsive list-maker who lives in Philadelphia with her family, a fat cat, and several fish. Her debut novel Running Against Traffic, was a Global Ebook Award nominee, a semifinalist in The Kindle Book Review‘s 2013 Best Indie Book Awards, a semifinalist in the Readers’ Favorite 2013 International Book Award Contest, Indie Book of the Day (June 30 2013), a 2013 Beach Book Festival Award nominee, and has received a four star review in InD’tale Magazine.
When not writing, Gaelen enjoys reading, running races for charities, and spending as much time in Key West and the Adirondacks as she can.
There is a Kindle Paperwhite up for grabs in the tour-wide giveaway. Make sure you enter!

"Beneath Manhattan Skies" by Emma Meade

Beneath Manhattan Skies
by Emma Meade
Beneath Manhattan Skies in currently on tour with Bewitching Book Tours. The tour starts here today with my interview with the author. Please made sure you visit all of the other stops on the tour as well. This beautiful cover was designed by Najla Qamber.
November in New York is cold but full of possibility for college freshman Erin Harris. When her twin brother, Nick, shows up on her doorstep for a surprise visit, Erin is delighted. Unfortunately, Nick’s arrival coincides with the discovery of a body outside her apartment building, a body drained of blood. Right away, Nick assumes vampires are involved. He’s not exactly their biggest fan since Erin dated one in high school.
Juggling nosy roommates, a first date with a gorgeous guy from college and a brother on a Van Helsing kick is enough to keep any nineteen year old girl busy – And then Erin’s old flame walks back into her life.
Is Erin destined to be caught up in supernatural shenanigans, or will she choose a different path?
Beneath Manhattan Skies is a standalone story, following the character Erin Harris from Under the Desert Moon.
Nick and Erin kept a lookout for anyone of the supernatural persuasion, a difficult task since Erin doubted vampires went clubbing with the words I want your blood printed on their shirts. What had James and his maker in common? Agility, gracefulness, a predatory sway. It should be simple to spot one. Yeah right!
They had zero proof the vampire or vampires responsible for both deaths even frequented the place, if it’s even vampires, she reminded herself. But if the cops were interested in the club, then it was the only lead Erin and Nick had.
“If we do see a vampire, what next?” Erin asked.
“We follow him.”
“And then what? Ask if they’d like a bloody beverage? A diet Coke with a splash of O Negative?
“We kill them.”
“Oh, of course. Because we both know how easy that is … And how exactly do we do it, oh intelligent one?” Erin spoke as low as she could over the tuneless house music. “Do you have a stake handy?”
“What? Are you crazy?”
Nick unzipped his coat and pointed at his inside pocket. Erin checked to see if anyone was looking before she did a quick search. Something long, wooden and narrow. A stick.
What the hell?
“I made it a while back. Just in case.”
“Just in case,” Erin parroted. “Just what exactly have you been up to in Boston?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Van Helsing, but I wasn’t aware my brother had become a vampire hunter.”
“Can we talk about this later?”
“You talk about it later. I’m going to the bar.”
Before Nick could protest, Erin stormed off. She hadn’t known Nick to keep a secret from her, ever. But not only had he been carrying out research of the supernatural persuasion behind her back, here he was walking around with a homemade stake in his pocket, hell bent on some stupid vampire hunting mission.
Erin berated herself for coming to the club. If she and Nick came up against a vampire, the odds were not in their favor. Once again, the question came unbidden. Where are you, James?
By Dii
Remember your high school flame? Did you get over him? For Erin Harris, getting over James wasn’t all that easy, okay, no one has quite held a candle to him, even though she now lives in Manhattan and is a college freshman with a bright future and great friends. James was a vampire, ageless, gorgeous and dangerous. Erin knows she should maybe take a chance on new romance with someone like Tommy, the hot guy with the motorcycle who is attracted to her. Vampires were in her past, right, a secret tightly kept from the unsuspecting human world, right? They were until a body shows up outside her apartment, definitely the victim of a vampire draining. Is it a warning? Coincidence? Will she finally run into James again, as he’d promised so long ago? There is evil on the streets of New York and not the human kind, and it’s time to find out who is behind it and what they want. Together, vampires and humans will set a trap, but who will they catch?
Beneath Manhattan Skies by Emma Meade is a refreshing, angst-free paranormal mystery/romance with some great characters and a smooth flow that avoids too much heavy darkness. Sure, you’ll find some great vamp vs. vamp fighting, and our human heroine is gutsy, willing to risk her life to save her friends, but I loved how she wasn’t so taken with the “vampire love of my life” thing that she wasn’t at least open to other options, like maybe a human? This is fast read, with a hint of mystery, a hint of romance, some well-defined characters and of course, the hot vamps! It helps when you have friends who accept the world you show them, too! Could it be because it was Manhattan?
I completely enjoyed Emma Meade’s writing style and the world she created for me to get lost in!
Interview with the Author
Hi Emma, thanks for joining me today to discuss your new book, Beneath Manhattan Skies. Hi Lynda. Cheers for having me.

Which writers have influenced you the most? Many authors of the Point Horror series got me hooked on the supernatural and horror genre. I devoured those books as a kid. As a young teenager, I then collected every L. J. Smith book I could get my hands on. Anne Rice, Virginia Andrews, and Stephen King quickly followed.

What age group do you recommend your book for? Teens and upwards.

What sparked the idea for this book? Beneath Manhattan Skies catches up with the character Erin Harris from my previous novel, Under the Desert Moon, as she makes her way in The Big Apple. When I completed Under the Desert Moon, I thought Erin’s story was finished, but I often wondered how she would get on in New York. She’s a small town girl with big ambitions. Would she survive and thrive in such a big city? I found my answers when I wrote Beneath Manhattan Skies, which can be read as a standalone story.

Which comes first? The character’s story or the idea for the novel? I have a general idea for a story, but usually it’s a character who drives that idea forward.

What was the hardest part to write in this book? Having Erin make a tough decision when it came to her love life. I felt for her.

How do you hope this book affects its readers? Mostly, I just want people to enjoy it and have some fun while reading this novella. Beneath Manhattan Skies is not a serious book. It’s a fast-paced slice of urban fantasy and paranormal fiction with some romantic elements.

How long did it take you to write this book? About a month. I started it over Christmas break last year. With two full weeks off work, I had the time to sit down and really get into it. Of course it took many more months of editing and revising before I was happy to send it out into the world.

What is your writing routine? I don’t really have one, I’m sorry to say. When I do commit to writing, I usually curl up on the couch, sit my laptop on the armrest, make sure I’ve got a hot cup of tea nearby and off I go.

How did you get your book published? Beneath Manhattan Skies is self-published via Smashwords, Amazon, and hopefully very soon CreateSpace.

What advice do you have for someone who would like to become a published writer? Read a lot, write a lot and remember Google is your friend. Research literary agents, publishers, what’s going on in the industry, writing tips, etc. Do your homework.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing? Chill out with family and friends, enjoy a dinner out with the girls and a good chat over a glass of wine, sit back and listen to music and relax by watching some Vampire Diaries or The Big Bang Theory.

What does your family think of your writing? They’re supportive and proud, I think.

Please tell us a bit about your childhood. I grew up with three sisters and my mother and father in a loving home. I was lucky to have a second home in my grandparents, Maureen and Paddy. We lived in Cork, a city in Ireland, and though I moved away to Galway for a time for college and work, I’m back in Cork again.

Did you enjoy school? No. J I didn’t come out of my shell until college. College opened up the world to me.

Did you like reading when you were a child? Yes. I always had my head stuck in a book.

What was your favorite book as a child? Probably The Magic Faraway Tree by Enid Blyton.

Who were your favorite authors as a child? The writers of the Point Horror series like R. L. Stine, Diane Hoh, Caroline B. Cooney, and Richie Tankersley Cusick. I also devoured all the Sweet Valley Twins and Sweet Valley High books.

When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer? Probably when I was in primary school. I was one of the few in class who loved being assigned short stories for homework. Mine usually featured ghosts, aliens and vampires.

Did your childhood experiences influence your writing? My father loved books and films and music, so I grew up with an appreciation for the arts. I can’t say I’ve ever truly experienced a supernatural event, yet I write mainly paranormal themed stories.

Do you hear from your readers much? What kinds of things do they say? I do get some lovely emails that make me smile when they mention they connected with a character or a particular love story. Readers of my blog, Emma’s Ramblings on Supernatural Fiction, are particularly friendly people.

What can we look forward to from you in the future? Since I adored The X-Files growing up, I would love to sink my teeth into an alien tale, one day!

Thanks so much for stopping by today, Emma. It’s been a pleasure chatting. These were great questions! Thanks a million for having me on your blog.
About the Author
Emma Meade writes paranormal fiction. She lives in rainy Ireland and loves all things supernatural. Stephen King’s The Stand is one of her most loved books and she’s lost count of the number of times she’s read L. J. Smith’s trilogy, The Forbidden Game.
Books, DVDs, and TV show box sets take up lots of space in her home, and she collects all the Point Horror books she can get her hands on.
Writing supernatural stories and watching marathon re-runs of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are some of Emma’s favourite ways of escaping reality.
Emma is the author of several short stories including Dark Whiskey. She has also written Under the Desert Moon and Beneath Manhattan Skies.
Amazon US paperback – not yet available
Amazon UK paperback – not yet available

"The Weeping Bride: Brides and Dark Secrets Series" by Pembroke Sinclair

The Weeping Bride:
Brides and Dark Secrets Series
by Pembroke Sinclair
The Weeping Bride by Pembroke Sinclair is on tour for the month of November. The tour stops here today for my review. Please visit all the other tour stops as well. Brought to you by Bewitching Book Tours.
Scorned at her own wedding, The Weeping Bride has vowed to make every bride from her hometown miserable until she finds her own happiness. When the groom at a friend’s wedding disappears, Melanie and Tyler must solve the mystery of the Bride to save him. Time is not on their side. Will they find him before The Weeping Bride’s revenge is satiated?
Sarah moved around the hotel reception room, her back straight and eyes focused. She stopped at a table and straightened a fork, unbent the corner of a name card, and pulled a dead leaf off the lily and baby’s breath flower arrangement, all the while mumbling under her breath. She stepped to the middle of the floor and brought her right hand to her mouth, her index finger tapping her lips. Sarah turned slowly, taking in every inch of the room.
“Sarah,” a familiar voice spoke behind her. It sounded small in the large, empty room.
She turned to face the speaker.
“What are you still doing in here?” her mother asked.
“Just checking on some last minute things.”
Her mom walked across the room and embraced her daughter. Sarah laid her head against her mom’s shoulder and took a deep breath.
“Everything is going to be just perfect,” her mom said softly. “And if it’s not, you’ll still be married.”
Sarah nodded. “I know. I couldn’t sleep. I figured I’d do one last walk through.”
Her mom pulled away and held Sarah at arm’s length. “You’re going to have dark circles under your eyes if you don’t get to bed. I have something that will help you sleep.” She turned and headed out of the room, stopping at the door. “Are you coming?”
Sarah nodded. “Yeah. I’m on my way. Just one more thing I need to check.”
Her mom rolled her eyes and left the room.
Sarah made her way to the wedding parties’ table and checked to make sure the bouquet holders were in place. She knocked one off, and it fell under the table. Bending down, she lifted the tablecloth. She found the plastic piece and snapped it back into place. As she stood, something caught the corner of her vision. She turned. In the far corner of the room, a white mist gathered from the floor, slowly creeping up. Squinting, she took a step forward. The mist shimmered and took shape.
“No,” Sarah whispered under her breath. She backed away.
The mist solidified yet remained translucent, taking the shape of a person. Within a few seconds, a woman dressed in a long, white, flowing gown stood before Sarah. She held a bouquet of wildflowers and a veil covered her face, but Sarah could see she was crying. The bride took a step forward.
“No!” Sarah screamed and ran for the door.
She hurried down the hall to the elevator and punched the button. Shifting from one foot to the other, she mumbled under her breath for the thing to hurry. The doors opened with a ding, and she rushed inside. Sarah hit the button for the sixth floor, and then punched the door close button. She stamped her foot on the floor, cursing the elevator in her mind as it crawled to its destination. Sarah squeezed through the doors before they opened completely and ran down the hall. Stopping in front of the door, she pounded three times. She waited for a few seconds before pounding three more times.
“Mark!” She kicked at the door. “Mark!”
“What’s going on?”
Sarah turned. Tyler, her fiancé’s best man, stepped into the hall, lines of concern wrinkling his forehead.
“Have you seen Mark?”
“Not since the rehearsal dinner. Why?”
“I need to know where he is.”
Tyler shrugged his shoulders. “Last I heard he was going to get a drink with the guys. He was planning on being in bed by ten.”
Sarah glanced at her watch. 9:30.
“Do you know which bar they went to?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why didn’t you go with them?” Anger and accusation tainted her tone.
Tyler furrowed his brow. “I had some other things to do. What is this all about?”
Sarah turned without saying another word and headed to her room. She kept telling herself everything was going to be all right. It was fine. Nothing was going to happen. She’d get her phone and call Mark. Everything was fine. Inside her room, door closed, she collapsed onto the floor and cried.
“Sarah?” Her mom knelt next to her. Fear shook her voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Sarah took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down, but it didn’t work. “The Weeping Bride! I saw the Bride!”
Her mom brought her hand to her mouth and gasped, “Oh, no!” She wrapped her arms around Sarah’s shoulders and cried.

By Lynda Dickson

On the eve of her wedding day, Sarah sees a vision of a ghostly bride crying and knows this to be a bad omen. When Sarah’s fiancé Mark goes missing on their wedding day, her friend Melanie (who has herself been jilted) teams up with best man Tyler to try and locate Mark in time for the wedding.
Together they learn about the legend of the Weeping Bride. Many years ago, Keiralyn was set to marry Adam but, when tragic circumstances intervened, Keiralyn vowed that no bride in Lionkol would ever be happy. Melanie and Tyler make it their mission to reunite the Weeping Bride with Adam, break the curse, and find Mark.
But will Melanie ever find happiness of her own?
TheWeeping Bride contains a bit of everything: romance, horror, ghosts, and mystery. I applaud the author for not padding the story out with unnecessary detail. It is a quick, easy, and satisfying read.
From the Author
In 2009, eTreasures Publishing published my first novel, a sci-fi adventure story. Since then, they have published my two YA zombie novels, my religious zombie novella, two children’s picture books, and two novellas with romantic elements. I have an urban fantasy novel about dragons and a vampire novelette that was published by MuseItUp Publishing. Musa Publishing has published my novelette with romantic elements and a collection of short stories. I have a middle grade urban fantasy novel that was published by Little Devil Books. My nonfiction book about slasher films was published by Scarecrow Press.
Writing is my passion. I enjoy creating fantastic worlds and memorable characters. I’m an active promoter of my works and love to talk to readers at book signings and readings. Doing giveaways on Goodreads has been an exciting experience, and having contests for readers has been fun. I actively promote various authors on my blog and participate in blog tours to promote my own work.
I write under several different pen names. For my children’s titles, I write under J. D. Pooker, and for my YA and adult novels, I write under Pembroke Sinclair. My nonfiction work is done under my real name.
I am a member of the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers and am on a committee to create membership criteria for iPAL, which is a sister group to the Published Authors Liaison group and focuses on independent and self-published authors. I am also a member of the ALA and really enjoy doing library visits.