"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.

"The Borealis Genome" by Thomas P. Wise and Nancy Wise

The Borealis Genome
by Thomas P. Wise and Nancy Wise
The Borealis Genome is currently on tour with Reading Addiction Virtual Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt. Please visit the other tour stops as well.
The Borealis Genome addresses the issue of increased moral ambiguity as scientific technology advances and removes our sense of individuality. The married authors throw engaged characters Tim and Nora into a scientific nightmare where mind-uploading and a weaponized virus allow the minds of the few to control those of the masses. As the population starts turning into mental zombies can Tim and Nora find the source of this mayhem? And can their love persevere through these harrowing times?
The Borealis Genome was recently awarded as Finalist in the 2013 Best Book Awards, and Honorable Mention in the 2013 Hollywood Book Festival.
Stan woke feeling, “off,” is all that came to mind. He had returned to his high-rise apartment early last night from his lady friend’s home as he liked to refer to her, and had dropped into bed, clothes and all. He rolled to the side of the bed and sat with both feet pressed flat on the floor and slouched forward with his elbows on his knees trying to get his head to clear. Pressing his palms against his forehead, he rocked slowly forward testing his legs.
His eyes were blurry as he straightened, still pressing his palms to his head and turning toward the bathroom. “Shoot,” he cried out as his foot landed on something hard rolling his left ankle and spilling him hard against the wall. He landed on his shoulder against the wall wrenching his spine and twisting the large left muscle running from his shoulder to the lower back into a spasm of searing pain.
Pushing up from the floor with both hands as he moved onto all fours, the pain in his back and ankle was biting into the fog in his mind helping him to focus. Stan crawled to the nightstand muttering and breathless.
“Help me! Up!” he groaned and slapped around for something to grab. and reached out with his right hand to steady himself and gather his wits. He pulled hard to drag himself upright again, and fell with his back pressed flat against the wall to balance against the pain.
Out of breath, Stan rolled left pushing hard on the wall to stabilize his position as he turned and shoved with his left forearm out to hold himself while he tried to walk.
“Focus!” he belched as his ankle rolled. His weight landed hard on the bone at the base of the shin as he stumbled toward the bedroom door. With a staggered, slow gate, his ankle rolled out from under him with each step. The fog in his brain grew more dense, and the pain more distant as he moved toward the door of the apartment.
“Pull,” he burped at the front door.
The momentum of the door led him backward, dropped him hard on his tailbone and jarred his spine and splitting the fog in his brain for a moment. He reached for his mouth, “blood,” he thought as the new taste flooded his senses.
Stan rolled back to his knees and pulled on the doorknob bouncing the left side of his head against the edge of the door as he stood and stumbled forward into the hall, then into the elevator leading to the trolley below the building.
Riders gathered along the trolley platform, checked the time, hoping to beat the rush and have a seat for the trip. The trolley tunnel was musty, dark with 19th century lights and smoke clinging to the tunnel walls. Trash and grease coated the tracks. Men and women dressed in business casual yawned and sipped from steaming paper mugs of dark coffee, waiting impatiently, ignoring one another as well as the rats darting in and out of crevices along the tunnel wall. A woman of about 30 stood quietly trying to keep her with her three year old boy seated in his stroller and entertained, while her tween son hung alongside in anticipation of his first trolley ride into Center City.
“I think it’s coming,” Stephen said excited to be the first to announce the possible arrival. Stephen looked up at his mom to see if she had noticed that he knew the trolley was on the way, “It’s coming mom,” he announced again touching her arm and smiling with his big dark brown eyes. His light brown hair, bleached by long summer days in the sun, hung in his eyes.
“Honey,” he heard his mom’s response, ignoring his excitement, as she pushed the hair from his brow, “Will dropped his cup by the stairs. Back there,” she said pointing to the entrance at the bottom of the staircase. “See it?
A frown formed as he followed Mom’s gesture. “Will,” he groused, had tossed the cup as she had opened the stroller at the bottom of the staircase where they entered the trolley tunnel.
“Please?” she asked again.
“Why does she assume I’m not going to do it?” he grumped, and sulked away. “You get,” he muttered to himself disappointed his announcement was ignored, and at being the errand boy for the little darling sitting in the stroller watching as he fetched the Sippy-cup, and just as the trolley was coming. “That’s what I shoulda said!” he muttered. “Get your own sippy.”
A man sneered, “Stinkin drunk,” as he watched for the trolley.
Stan stumbled along the subway platform as his ankle rolled with each step and his back twisted to the left as his body tried to stabilize against the spasm in the left lattisimus dorsi. A long bruise crossed his left eyebrow where he had landed against the door, and blood trickled down his chin where he had bitten off the tip of his tongue when he landed on his tailbone. Stan could feel the rush of air as the underground trolley approached the bend up ahead. Little else could penetrate the fog in his head. There were shapes in front of him. He could just make out “ competition for his favorite seat,” through his blurred vision.
As he tried to pick up the pace to make the trolley, “gonna be late,” kept coming through the fog. Stan shoved past the first person as he approached the man from behind, and pushed hard with his shoulder to get past. The man turned, leading with his elbow as he came around to face the aggressor in the dim light, angry at being shoved. An elbow in the rib caused Stan to trip and fall to his knees as he over compensated to keep his balance. Stan’s eyes never left the grimy platform. It was steady and solid. He could see the dark concrete, stained by a hundred years of dirty feet and smoke, beneath his hands as he shoved himself up to get his right foot underneath him.
Stan’s bladder let go of its contents when his knees were bloodied as they cracked against the concrete. Still on his left knee he shoved hard to get his right foot under him. Stan lurched hard to his left as the foot collapsed under his weight. Falling! He grabbed and hugged the concrete pillar.
His eyes were round, propped open by fear; seeing shadows and shapes. He aimed for a large shape and pushed from the pillar stumbling toward a tall man like a large, grotesque baby on his first solo. Stan, unable to judge distance or trajectory slammed hard with his shoulder, hitting the shape square in the back driving him to the trolley tracks below, rebounded into a woman. She screamed as she pin wheeled frantically with her arms and dropped to her knees to keep from falling from the platform. The man to her left lunged toward the screaming woman in an attempt to grab her flailing left arm before she slipped.
Adrenaline jolts pounded Stan’s unguided reflexes. He retracted from the contact, jammed a shoulder against the man’s back sending them both rolling from the platform in a screaming heap.
Shock stopped the crowd.
Stephen spun at the scream to see the man and women drop off the side of the platform. He watched as the bloody creature lurched toward his mom and Will, and still no one moved.
Motion to his right drew his attention as an officer stepped off the staircase and took in the scene as if trying to get his bearings in the sparse light before moving onto the platform.
“Zombie,” Stephen screamed as he ran toward Will, “Mom.” Stephen’s mother turned when she heard his scream. He could see the panic register on her face as adrenaline hit her heart. She grabbed for Will sitting wide eyed and staring toward the bruised and bloodied face.
Hearing Stephen’s terrified scream the officer pulled his service pistol from his belt. Stephen saw him survey the platform in one quick sweep from behind the steel prison like bars separating the stair case from the platform, and moved to a position to confront Stan as he grabbed at Will’s stroller to steady himself against the rushing air pushed forward by the trolley’s approach, “freeze.”
Several onlookers screamed as they realized there were people on the tracks. “Help them,” he heard an elderly man yell as he rushed across the officer’s view.
“Don’t move,” he heard the officer bellow pushing through the cage like turnstile as he tried to get a clear view while taking in the panic.
“Zombies,” people began to shout as they frantically shoved toward the exits running past Stephen and obstructing the officer’s line of sight.
Stephen watched as the officer hollered again, “Don’t move,” followed with an angry, growled command, “don’t move.”
Stephen could see the zombie now had a grip on Will’s stroller handles as he fought to keep his balance. Stumbling toward the platform edge he lifted the stroller attempting to catch himself and slammed it back to the ground stunning Will and causing Stephen’s mom to belt out a screech of panic.
Stephen lunged toward Stan launching himself into Stan’s chest as the officer fired.
“Stephen,” his mother’s scream echoed in his ears. Terrified?
He landed against Stan’s chest. Weak.
The first bullet struck Stephen between the shoulder blades driving him into Stan as his legs let go. Stan grabbed Stephen dropping his hold on the stroller, and lurched backward toward the edge of the platform. The officer fired again slamming the lead into Stan’s forehead and driving him backward another step.
Can’t let go, Stephen thought. What happened?
Stan’s legs collapsed as he fell backward pulling Stephen along with him and dropped from the platform beneath the trolley rumbling around the corner. The sound of screeching steel upon steel filled the tunnel as the driver applied the brakes attempting to avoid slamming into the injured people scrambling to escape.
About the Authors
Thomas and Nancy come from very different backgrounds. Thomas was raised in a military family and lived through the separations of war and the challenges that a family faces when coming back together. Challenges such as injuries and the frailty of the body and shifts in the personality that war bring to a family can force everyone to redefine how they see the themselves and the world around them. Nancy was raised in a family challenged by severe injuries. Her father was paralyzed and could no longer work causing the family to reform around a new breadwinner when their mother had to take over.
“We chose to write a book shaped around these realities and the challenges that new technologies will force societies all over the world to deal with very soon. Mind uploading, neural networks, and human gene manipulation combined with new medical discoveries may become a new reality that we must all understand and learn what it means to our lives. These are realities today that were only science fiction just a few years ago that will soon have a real and direct effect on our lives.”
Tom earned his Ph.D. in Organization and Management in 2012 and has other books including Trust in Virtual Teams.

"Black Swan Collected Tales (Volume 1, Books 1-6)" by Victoria Danann

Black Swan Collected Tales
(Volume 1, Books 1-6)
by Victoria Danann
The Order of the Black Swan is a serial saga including My Familiar Stranger (FREE), The Witch’s Dream, A Summoner’s Tale, Moonlight: The Big Bad Wolf, Gathering Storm, and the never-before-released Book 6, A Tale of Two Kingdoms.
Once upon a time a girl lost everything familiar. She escaped death by being forced into an experiment that left her in another world where modern day knights, elves, vampires, werewolves, witches, demons and fae became her allies, friends and family. She discovered a place where adventure intersects fairytales, where honor is more than an ideal, and she learned that love can find you in the strangest places, when you’re least expecting it, even when you’re far, far from home. This is the story of Elora Laiken’s strange and wonderful journey. It is also the story of those whose lives she touches along the way.
If you love romance, paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, urban fantasy, contemporary, this series is right for you. 17+
This series is just too good not to share! There is something for everyone in these books. Don’t think for a minute that they are just PNR there is mystery, action, adventure … yes there is romance but not any romance EPIC romance (oh and some steamy stuff too). There are knights and vampires and demons and fae and witches … all packed into these volumes that I bet you won’t be able to read just once! And when you do reread you will pick up on things you might have missed the first time through! Amazing series! Just keeps getting better and better!
From the Author
If you’re looking for something new and different in paranormal romance, you’ve come to the right place.
I write unapologetic romances with uniquely fresh perspectives on paranormal creatures, characters, and themes. Add a dash of sci-fi and a flourish of fantasy to enough humor to make you laugh out loud and enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. My heroines are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches, demonologists, psychics, or past life therapists. My heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners – usually – whether they be elves, demons, berserkers, werewolves, or vampires.
I have authored and illustrated Seasons of the Witch calendars and planners for fifteen years and teach magickal arts for Seasons in Avalon. I live in The Woodlands, Texas which is why I sometimes joke about being the witch in the woods.
Enter the giveaway for your chance to win a $100 Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift card. 

"This Morning I Woke Up Dead" by Mindy Larson

This Morning I Woke Up Dead
by Mindy Larson
To celebrate the re-release of This Morning I Woke Up Dead, during the months of November and December, 1% of the gross sales of this novel and all other novels with Lavish Publishing, LLC will be donated to the Lupus Foundation of America. The donation will be made in May 2014 in honor of author A. A. Pencil and National Lupus Awareness Month.
Please visit all of the other stops on this book tour brought to you by Reading Addiction Book Tours.
What would you do? What rules would you break to be with your soul mate? This morning Hadley Christensen and Dominic Morris woke up living their dream lives. They are engaged and each has promising careers in the medical field. They are happier and more fulfilled than they have ever been, and they are ready to begin their happily ever after.
Sadly, on her way to work, Hadley is in an accident. Before taking her last breath, she realizes she is already dead – and everyone on Earth is too. Now Hadley and Dominic must each find a way to live without one another. How do they continue when they are two parts of one flame?
Hadley is given permission by the Masters to contact Dominic in the hopes he will also realize he is already dead. If Dominic can open his mind to hear Hadley they can be together forever. Is Dominic ready to give up life the way he knows it?
Excerpt – 20 Favorite Quotes
1.        “So, you’re probably wondering how did I die? Well, the better question might be: when did I realize that I was never alive?”
2.        “Think of Earth as one enormous waiting room. On Earth, we can do all the things needed to learn and grow for the next cycle of life. Life on Earth is a practice run. A dress rehearsal. While we’re on Earth we can play. Love. Find our talents. Those who are smart, use them. It’s a pity that not near enough of the population do. Most waste their time on Earth gossiping, arguing, spending too much money, worrying about anything and everything. We cause pain. To ourselves and others. The opposite of living. Why? I don’t know. What I do know is that love, being happy, and feeling gratitude for everyone and everything is all its really about.”
3.        “Logan steps over and around the bugs but through the kids, making the red head shiver. Seems sort of backwards to me, avoiding bugs in favor of passing through children. But who am I to judge?”
4.        “I feel like I’m living in a science fiction book where every one hundred and nine minutes I must push a button or the Earth will explode. But that button is pushing a bottle or some other kind of baby food into Ruby’s mouth.”
5.        “A chill passes over me. I physically wince, wondering what is going on. Why does this keep happening? Maybe there is an air conditioning vent above me. I look up and there isn’t one that I can see.”
6.        “With my next few steps towards the Disneyland gates, I decide that my name is now, Scott, Scott Salisbury. I am an art teacher. I nod a couple of times, pleased with my choice. It’s relaxing and low key being an art teacher. I play Jack Johnson in the classroom and blow bubbles over the student’s heads. Pass out candies. The kids adore me. They even come to me with their silly high school problems and I guide them through it. Scott doesn’t see crazy old guys. No one tells Scott that he is already dead. Scott isn’t mourning anyone.”
7.    “The point of life. Or death,” he adds sarcastically. “Is to be loving, grateful, peaceful, and do what you love to do, to find fulfillment. You love Dominic. You are grateful for his presence. You found fulfillment with him. So,” Logan draws out the o sound. “It would appear, Hadley,” his tone changes slightly. He is jealous, I think. “That you get to interfere. You get to help him discover the truth: that he is dead, too. And if it goes well.” Logan pauses, cocks an eye brow and says, “They are willing to consider allowing you to help others realize this as well.”
8.      Dominic shakes his head again. He can’t see me. Not exactly. He can’t hear me. Not exactly. He can’t feel me. Not exactly. But he knows, on some level, that I am here. I know he knows.”
9.        “Learn a word. Lose a memory. As time passes, some begin to remember things with a feeling of déjà vu or through dreams. Memories are forever cemented to your soul. They cannot make you forget.”
10.   “I actually had vague gossamer thin memories of my Pre-Earth life. Thanks to my dreams and the assistance of some rather reoccurring kooky Déjà vu I was able to remember. Most people dismiss both but not me. I always loved the bone chilling apprehension that I experienced whenever recalling my dreams, whenever I had déjà vu, I immediately tried to understand why and what I was remembering exactly.”
11.    “They are all lost to me. I must make peace with that, and yet I will forever be knitted to them. I am gray colored yarn. Dominic is chocolate brown. Harper is light blue. My mother is emerald. My father is sapphire. Together, we make a beautiful tapestry. Apart we are loose ends, waiting, hoping to be woven together again.”
12.     “I like not knowing the time. It’s so nice to just enjoy a moment or two without worrying about the time, whether I need to be somewhere or to do something.”
13.     “Hearts do no beat. Lungs do not need oxygen. If one listens, they can hear the gentleness of thumping, thumping, thumping of a heart, and the whooshing of air being passed in and out of their lungs. It’s all relative. Each individual will, at some point, come to the realization that nothing is as it seems.”
14.     “She laughs again and this time it’s so sexy. She has a million laughs. Different keys to different parts of our song.”
15.     “Hours later, we’re all exhausted and in bed, drifting off to sleep. My body remembers the gentle rocking of the waves and quickly lulls me into sleep. Just before I finally give in, I feel a familiar cool presence against my backside, chilling my raging sunburn so much so that I can sleep. Sleepily, I smile all knowingly that she is with me.”
16.     “He lost his fiancée recently. And I lost mine. But,” Em pauses and laughs high pitched and loud and very manically. “And, sometimes,” her eyes widen, “We still see them.”
17.     “Alone  I can keep it real. As real as I choose to. My mind takes me back and forth. I saw her. I dreamed of her. I saw her. I dreamed of her. A see-saw. Unfortunately, I am not ready to get off this ride. Not yet. For now, no decision has been made as to whether or not I saw her. I can cling to the sea-saw for a while.”
18.     “Hot water runs down my back, scorching me. I grab the soap and lather up my body. Turning the dial all the way to cold, I shiver as goose bumps assault me, reminding me that I can feel. If you’re dead, you cannot feel such things. I don’t think. There is no nervous system in place. No working brain to receive the messages even if there was. I settle on warm. Luke warm. Not alive. Not dead. That’s exactly how I feel, somewhere in between life and death.”
19.     “Those few gentle spirits, we all know at least one -who avoid stepping on any and all bugs, and instead, they carefully catch those that had wandered innocently into their homes to dispose of them in the out of doors- had been right to not torture a living thing.”
20.     “Dominic Morris,” I tell her. Suddenly I am smiling. Out of embarrassment, I cover my lips with my hands. I think about how he’s such a good kisser and my lips tingle. He does things to me. Even when we’re not together, I react. When I realize that I am still grinning like an idiot, I attempt to stop. But I just can’t.”
Book Trailer
This Morning I Woke Up Dead is an extremely interesting read. The title alone intrigued me greatly. The description of a young woman named “Hadley” who loses her life in the beginning of the book, only to have found out or realized that she had been dead all along piqued my interest greatly. I am usually drawn to books that deal with the afterlife and spirituality and other’s views on what takes place when we all “die”.
This book is a very interesting perspective of life on a different realm and one I thoroughly enjoyed and would highly recommend. It is an easy read that flows smoothly and becomes increasingly more difficult to put down with each passing chapter. The thorough and detailed personalities of every character drew me in and left me wanting to know more about them and what they were constantly up to.
All of us who have lost loved ones know how traumatic and difficult it is to continue on without them. This book depicts these heart breaking situations from the perspective of the deceased, an outlook I have yet to see portrayed before.
I’m not one to usually lean toward a book that has a love story at the center of it but the two main characters’ connection, (Dominic and Hadley) is one of intense passion that was not overly mushy and won me over. This isn’t a “chick book”. This is a book that I feel a wide range of ages from late teens on up through the elderly would find interesting and one that will leave each reader thinking about and even questioning their beliefs of what “life” is like when we take our last breath.
About the Author
Mindy Larson has always had a vivid imagination that has only improved with her love of reading and writing. She spent much of her childhood entertaining her three younger brothers with her stories and today she is bringing her imagination to life in books.
When not writing, Mindy enjoys spending time with the love of her life and four children while playing disc golf, cooking, baking, traveling and exploring.


"The Keeper" by R. L. Mosz

The Keeper
by R. L. Mosz
The Keeper is a thought-provoking, clean, and contemporary women’s drama that explores the mysterious power of friendship and love. Initially, powerhouse surgeon Dr. Chris Seacrest finds little of interest to him in the young, post-stroke patient Caitlin Rosenberry. But a brief encounter in an exam room sets a series of cataclysmic events into motion from which there is no turning back. In the midst of it all, Dr. Seacrest finds himself in love with Caitlin, yet she never wants to see him again.
“Can you believe it’s this hot already and it’s only May?” Clarisse lamented, positioning their heads of lettuce more firmly against the ice in the coolers. “This stuff is beginning to look awful.”
Caitlin tripped over Bandolero a little in her long, second-hand dress as she stepped in Clarisse’s direction to check on the lettuce. To her horror, it was shriveling along the outer leaves. Sighing to herself, she wondered how much money they weren’t going to make that day. The profits didn’t go far when you were splitting them three ways. She didn’t want to have to start working six days a week at the restaurant.
“If Denver had been on time for once, we might have gotten a place in the shade,” Clarisse griped, down on Denver for the third day straight. “Where is he anyway?” Denver had sauntered off as soon as they’d arrived, several hours earlier.
“Who knows?” Caitlin muttered sardonically, reaching down to rub Bandolero’s leg apologetically.
Glancing up, Clarisse and Caitlin discovered Chris Seacrest standing next to their display, appearing almost as downcast as they were feeling.
“Hello.” Clarisse smiled prettily, pushing her wavy blond hair back from her face as she studied the handsome stranger with undisguised admiration.
Caitlin nodded hello, busying herself with tying off bunches of exotic radishes.
“Can we interest you in any organic produce this afternoon?” Clarisse asked hopefully, observing the classy ring and watch.
“No, actually I’m looking for a pot.”
“Did you say you’re looking for some pot?” Denver inquired, appearing from behind the decorative shrubbery where he had taken an unlawful shortcut to bypass the multitudes.
Narrowing his eyes slightly, Chris ignored the question. He immediately recognized the voice as the same person who had answered the phone when he’d called her place Saturday morning.
“Caitlin knows a guy who throws the best pots anywhere,” Clarisse declared dramatically, sipping her wheatgrass smoothie as she curiously surveyed the attractive doctor’s ring finger on his left hand. Surprisingly enough, he wore no wedding band.
“I thought you grew medicinal herbs?” Chris inquired of Caitlin, studying her pointedly. Obviously she was not going to talk unless forced.
“We do,” Denver replied for her, planting himself next to Caitlin as if to shield her from something.
“We sideline too,” Clarisse chimed in, adjusting her head scarf.
Caitlin hid her grubby hands beneath their table, feeling ill at ease. She hadn’t had time to wash them after unloading all their stock.
“What kind of pot are you looking for?” she managed at last, at a loss for anything else to say. After squinting up at him momentarily, he removed his sunglasses and his dark blue eyes searched hers. She looked away again.
“I’m looking for something unique.”
“Oh, you mean like for someone who already has everything?” Denver asked with a grin, noting Buffy approaching in her white silk skirt and Golden South Sea Pearl Necklace.
“Have you found anything yet?” Buffy asked, placing her arm around his waist. She didn’t like the way Clarisse was smiling at Chris.
“You have to go see this friend of Caitlin’s. He’s a genius,” Clarisse insisted, disappointed by the newcomer but still faintly hopeful.
Chris sighed, glancing around languidly. “Well, is he around here someplace?”
“That’d be the day,” Denver commented, reaching for his own smoothie in the ice chest under the table. Uncapping the bottle, he took a long swig to refresh himself.
“Does he have his own shop?” Buffy asked hopefully, quickly tiring of the scruffy threesome. Denver, in particular, looked like something the cat dragged in.
“Oh, no way. He’s a recluse,” Clarisse informed them, nudging Caitlin.  “Tell them.”
Caitlin attempted to pull herself together. It was beginning to trouble her that she found the good-looking, affluent doctor even faintly alluring. The emotion was so pathetically cliché, especially considering the ludicrous circumstances.
“Well,” she began, trying to appear somewhat indifferent, “he lives out on the wharf close by here in a warehouse.”
“A warehouse?” Chris appeared skeptical.
“He’s not too crazy about people,” Denver chimed in. “Just pots.”
“What’s his name?” Buffy asked amusedly, tossing back her bouncy hair over one shoulder.
“Yuri,” Caitlin replied.
“That means ‘earth worker’,” added Clarisse. Denver chuckled.
“What’s his number?” Chris reached for his cell.
Denver laughed. “He hasn’t got one.”
“He won’t talk on a phone,” Clarisse disclosed.
“I can draw you a map,” Caitlin offered, tearing a receipt from the booklet and scribbling on the reverse side. “But he might not answer the door.”
“If he’s in one of his moods or doesn’t like the look of you, he won’t answer,” Clarisse warned. “He’s a little strange that way.”
“He’s eccentric all right,” Denver commented, studying the dirt under his fingernails with interest. “You can never predict who he’ll let in or who he’ll kick out. He’s…”
“This is crazy,” Chris finally objected, not about to waste his time. The idea of tracking down some lunatic artist holed up in a warehouse someplace and then hoping he’d actually answer his door was outrageous. “Thanks anyway.” Waving them off, he and Buffy departed, shaking their heads as they walked away.
Caitlin frowned to herself, holding the map she’d drawn and trying not to glance back at them again.
“Do you actually know that sap?” Clarisse asked, beginning to lose interest in the newcomer.
“Sort of,” was Caitlin’s downcast reply.
“Well, he sure looks like he’s loaded but as usual didn’t shell out any dough. Boy, we really went bust today,” Clarisse lamented, scanning their produce. “There were just too many other people here selling stuff.”
“No problem, I already sold it all,” Denver suddenly exclaimed, all smiles.  “It’s history. Just start packing it back up in the boxes.”
Clarisse gaped at her partner in astonishment. “You’re joking.”
“Did you really sell all this stuff?” Caitlin asked hopefully. She’d be able to make a payment on Dr. Seacrest’s bill.
Denver nodded his bushy head happily, beginning to load the vegetables into their crates. “Yep, sure did. I was having a beer down on the dock earlier and cut a deal with a restaurant owner who happened to be sitting next to me.”
Their mood was jubilant as they busied themselves, relieved that their enterprise was actually beginning to take off. Caitlin worked hard, packing the heavy crates into the restaurateur’s van and an hour later collapsed back in the chair again behind the now empty table. Clarisse and Denver had already left and people were packing up, the marketplace closing down for the day. They’d been up at the crack of dawn out in the fields harvesting and the exhausting day had finally caught up with her.
“Come on, Bandolero.” She nudged him tiredly with her foot under the table and he stretched and yawned, his afternoon nap over. Wagging his tail, he suddenly seemed to come back to life.
Looking up, she was startled to discover Chris Seacrest again, this time alone.
“I’m glad you’re still here; I’ve changed my mind. Do you still have that map?”
Nodding, Caitlin extracted it from her pocket and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” With a quick, obligatory smile, he disappeared into the departing crowd.
Book Trailer
By Romy
I enjoyed this book from start to finish for several reasons. First, the writing style was refreshing and the storyline was easy to follow. The characters reminded me of people I’ve known in my life, with their unique and amusing quirks. I especially liked reading about Caitlin’s organic gardening lifestyle and her friends, very believable! I think the author approached the subject of the book with sensitivity and care. I recommend this book to anyone interested in the psychological healing process and who just enjoys a good read. It has the added bonus of being appropriate for young folks.
About the Author
R. L. Mosz keeps busy working 12-hour days with special-needs children and residents of a rehabilitation center. When time allows, her interests include: feeding the birds, writing, cooking, recycling, walking, and reading. She particularly enjoys trees, hedges of all kinds, birds, and creeks (see book trailer), but is grateful for all the gifts of nature.
She lives each day thankful for all blessings and mindful of a quote from her favorite book, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”
Following is a poem she wrote about her novel, The Keeper:
The Keeper
Decades long performance;
life shed along the way.
Suffused in great perfection
the truth inside him lay.
Though not his fault he wanders,
his heart up on the shelf,
she’s sent as a reminder
destruction of himself.

"Tumbleweed Christmas" by Beverly Stowe McClure

Tumbleweed Christmas
by Beverly Stowe McClure
Tumbleweed Christmas is a Christmas story suitable for children aged 3 to 7. You can read my review and enter the giveaway below for your chance to win a great prize. This book blast is brought to you by Mother Daughter Book Promotions.
Christmas is the time for miracles, but sometimes, a child must make her own miracle, and one for her siblings.
Book Trailer
Jackie’s family has no money for a Christmas tree or presents, and her father is sick in hospital. So Jackie sets out to buy a Christmas tree for her family with her last dollar, promising her little sisters, April and May, a surprise. She meets up with her friend Daniel who is having troubles of his own. Jackie’s mother has told her that Christmas is the season of miracles. Will Jackie and Daniel get their miracles this Christmas?
Illustrated by Bridget McKenna, Tumbleweed Christmas is a beautiful, heart-warming story about the belief in miracles, the love of family, and acts of selflessness. Although stated to be suitable for children aged 3-7, in my opinion it is suitable for older children as it deals with some harsh realities of life. Younger children may question the absence of in this story.
About the Author
Beverly Stowe McClure is a former teacher turned writer. When she was a kid, writing was the last thing on her mind. She loved music and played clarinet in the junior high and high school bands. She also was a majorette. She still plays the piano to relax. Her cats don’t appreciate good music, however, and run and hide when she tickles the ivories.
She lives in the country with Patches and Tiger (the cats), along with a variety of wild critters that stop by for a handout. Next to her sons, grandchildren, and great-grands, writing is her passion and joy. She also enjoys researching her family roots and snapping pictures of clouds, flowers, deer and birds, especially the roadrunner that visits on occasion and the hummingbirds that she feeds.
Enter the giveaway for your chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card or PayPal cash.