Here’s wishing all those mothers out there a very happy day! Mwah! XOXOXOXO ~DD

Open Contests

Enter while you can!

1. Happy May Day! (Puzzle-Contest) — Ends tomorrow! Win a FREE book!
2. Every Monday is a New Chance (Contest) — Win a FREE book!
3. “Everything’s coming up roses…” (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
4. Michal Scott: African Americans and The Religious Society of Friends (Contest & Excerpt) — Win an Amazon gift card!
5. “You can go with this, you can go with that…” (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!

UPDATE: The winner is…bn100!
*~*~*

I must be honest with you from jump street. What I knew about Quakers was formed by elementary school stories about William Penn and movies like The Angel and the Bad Man and Friendly Persuasion. It took meeting real-life Quakers who kindly corrected my ignorance to free me of clichés and caricatures I hadn’t realized I harbored. The first thing they informed me was officially they are the Religious Society of Friends and they refer to themselves as Friends. So decades later when I created inspirational historical romances set in the 1880s in which my African-American characters have been helped by Friends, I scurried down a wonderful new research rabbit hole.

I Iearned that four Friends in Germantown Pennsylvania wrote one of the earliest protests against slavery in 1688. In 1700 on May 7^th — one hundred eighty years before my stories are set — William Penn began monthly meetings for African Americans that promoted manumission. However, Friends weren’t always that quick to invite African Americans among them and it took another eighty years for the denomination itself to take a public stand against slavery. Donna McDaniel and Vanessa Julye document this journey in their book, Fit For Freedom, Not For Friendship. Prior to the American Revolution Quakers owned slaves and shared the same attitudes about African Americans as non-Quakers in American society. McDaniel and Julye do give the Society kudos for being the first large Christian denomination to require its members to stop participating in slavery.

I was amazed to learn that I was familiar with African-American Quakers by name but didn’t know they were Quakers. I knew of the abolitionist and back-to-Africa work of Paul Cuffe (1759-1817). I didn’t know Cuffe established the Friendly Society of Sierra Leone in 1811. Probably the most famous African-American Quaker known to me is Bayard Rustin (1912-1987). I had always known of Rustin’s civil rights and gay rights activism, but I never knew he was a Quaker.

I was grateful to encounter new names and new stories. Freed slave Cyrus Bustill (1732-1806)  helped found Philadelphia’s Free African Society and was himself a conductor on the underground railroad. His family continued as prominent black Quaker leaders, one of whom — Gertrude Bustill Mossell — became one of the first black women journalists and journal editors in the United States. Another new name was Vera Mae Green (1928-1982). Green championed international human rights and Caribbean anthropology. She did a study, “Blacks and Quakerism” in 1972-73 for the Friend’s General Conference and participated in a significant way in a session in 1979 with Quaker sociologists on peace in the Middle East.

Though I don’t get to use all I learn in my writing, I love discovering these hidden histories which make the tapestry that is history in general so colorful. So for a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card, what are some surprising historical facts you’ve come across.

One Breath Away by Michal Scott

Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. Never having been courted, cuddled or spooned, Mary now fears any kind of physical intimacy when arousal forces her to relive the asphyxiation of her hanging. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.

Wealthy freeborn-Black Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing a relationship with Mary was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first, he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex.

Then just as Eban begins to win Mary’s trust, an enemy from the past threatens to keep them one breath away from love…

Amazon Buylink – https://amzn.to/2u5XQYY

Excerpt from One Breath Away…

His smile turned up the heat in his gaze. Mary frowned, painfully aware the smell of her passion lingered in the air, despite the woolen barrier of her skirt.

He stepped forward so his hand-stitched boots stood toe-to-toe with Mary’s second-hand shoes. “Eban Thurman, at your service, Miss Hamilton. May I get you something to drink?”

At her service? The air congealed. Mary gasped, trying to suck in air too solid to inflate her lungs.

“No—no, thank you. I’m not thirsty.” Her stutter mimicked the tremor between her thighs. She clasped her hands and planted them hard against her lap.

“It’s a really hot night.” He turned his hand palm up in a silent plea. “Perhaps you’d find a waltz more cooling.” He eased his fingers into her clenched hands. “May I beg the honor of this dance?”

“Beg?”

“Yes, Miss Hamilton.” He tilted his head, slanting his smile to the right. “Beg.”

“You don’t strike me as the begging type, Mr. Thurman.”

“To everything there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven.” He tongue-swiped his full lips as if he’d just tasted something he wanted to taste again. “I know when it’s time to beg.”

She pursed her lips into a frown, fought back the urge to grovel and won. Barely.

The fingers around hers, clean and huge and strangely slender, hadn’t moved, hadn’t trembled. Their stillness aroused her. His stillness aroused her. Her lips quivered. She inhaled deeply against the surrender summoned by that tiny tremor.

Resist the devil and he will flee.

Silently she called upon the truth in this scripture for rescue.
The devil waited. She stared at the hand on hers, helpless against the appeal, the allure of temptation.

She swallowed hard, opened her mouth to say no, but her tongue refused to cooperate. She huffed out a breath and shook her head. “I—I can’t. I don’t know how to waltz.”

“Well, you’re in luck.” His lips bowed in a smile, full, broad, and hypnotizing. “I’m an excellent teacher and I bet you’re a fast learner.” He gave her fingers a squeeze. “Shall we?”

He really wanted to dance with her. She blinked, speechless. A warning voice protested.

Resist.

Her heart countered.

Surrender.

She firmed her lips, heaved a sigh then accepted his invitation.

*~*~*

Social Media:
Twitter: @mscottauthor1
Amazon Author Page – https://amzn.to/2TSHzRn

Hello everyone and thank you for having me as a guest on this blog. I enjoy arts and crafts. Pinterest is one of those social media sites that I thoroughly enjoy because it not only lets me save tons of pics of my muse, Jake Gyllenhaal, it also allows me to find new arts and crafts type projects I can work on. Are you crafty? In my YA for Mature Readers, The Drummond’s Series (14 Books!), I think at least one person is artistically inclined. The Drummonds are musicians, but not everyone is awesome at it, and several of their mates have other skills such as spray painting, pottery, making awesome “I’m With the Band” T-shirts.

What are some of your favorite arts and crafts? Are they holiday-themed?

As an author, I got a batch of my books with the pages stuck together. They sent me a fresh batch, but I am trying to figure out what all I can make with the randomly glued books I have. I don’t want to throw them away. So far, I have origami cranes and I mod-podged some pencils. Any other suggestions?

If you are into YA, please check out my Drummonds. They are available where e-books are sold.

Website: https://www.creativewritingwithdrnagle.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/CaraNorthauthor
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Get to know Cara North better by signing up for an email newsletter: Subscribe is at the bottom of the page https://www.creativewritingwithdrnagle.com/

Under Strain, the second standalone romance in my Rebel Cyborgs series, is set on Rohini 9, a dinosaur planet. The main predators on Rohini 9 are theropods, velociraptor-like dinosaurs. They’re intelligent, deadly hunters, and the arriving cyborg warriors have fun dealing with them.

I LOVE dinosaurs. As a kid, I had dinosaur toys and I read every book I could find on them. I’ve been on touristy dinosaur digs. I am glued to the TV whenever any of the Jurassic Park/World movies are shown. Once there’s a dinosaur featured, I’m captured.

My favorite dinosaur, when I was young, was the Brontosaurus. I was fascinated by their size and I always viewed them, even before watching Jurassic Park, as gentle giants. Riding a Brontosaurus was a childhood goal.

If that goal is ever achieved, something has gone terribly wrong in the space-time continuum. And there are no Brontosauruses mentioned in Under Strain but there ARE some awesome dinosaur riding scenes.

The velociraptors in the Jurassic Park world, however, excited me. They are intelligent and they communicate with each other, as many pack predators do. They are also slender enough to navigate between trees. Their prey couldn’t easily escape them.

I knew it was merely a matter of time until I found the perfect story in which to feature them. And I suspected that story would be a SciFi Romance.

It is plausible to me that somewhere in our vast universe, there’s a world inhabited by dinosaurs. They existed here on Earth. They could exist elsewhere.

Under Strain is my set-on-a-dinosaur-planet story.

Kamyelle, the heroine, has been the sole human on her planet for many solar cycles (years).  The theropods view her kind as nice, light snacks. She has skillfully avoided being eaten by living in the trees.

Strain, the cyborg hero, and his brethren have a very different approach to dealing with the theropods. They plan to have some fun with the predators.

What is your favorite dinosaur? Would you like to live on a dinosaur planet?

Under Strain

A damaged cyborg warrior is hunted by a peace-loving human female.

Strain is severely malfunctioning. The D Model cyborg was the sole survivor after a horrific decision was made by his cruel manufacturers. He hates all humans, and when he attacks one who is under his cyborg leader’s protection, he is reprimanded, stripped of his weapons, and told to watch and not actively participate in the next mission.

That mission takes place on a small remote planet. Its lush terrain should only be inhabited by the cyborgs they were sent to rescue, but Strain senses another presence on the surface. She is watching him, tracking him, hunting him.

A fully operational cyborg would end her lifespan.

Strain wants to claim her. Forever.

Kamyelle is the only one left of her kind. Warriors have killed the other nonviolent human inhabitants of her planet. She survived…barely…by hiding in the trees, observing her enemies, and covering herself with lifeform scan-concealing mud.

When a handsome, gray-skinned, brilliant-blue-eyed male arrives, surrounded by weapon-carrying warriors, she has to save him. Warriors harm and they kill. That is what they do.

She won’t allow them to hurt Strain.

Under Strain is a STANDALONE Cyborg SciFi Romance set in a dark, gritty, sometimes-violent universe.

It features a broken warrior, a human female who thinks he’s perfect, and velociraptor-like dinosaurs who view them both as light, tasty snacks.

Pre-order Now:
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08R322L7S
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08R322L7S
Amazon AUS: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B08R322L7S
Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/under-strain/id1545957749
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/under-strain-cynthia-sax/1138505613
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/under-strain
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/10602

About Cynthia Sax

USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes steamy Cyborg, Alien and Contemporary Romances. Her stories have been featured on TV, in Star Magazine, and numerous top ten lists.

Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled monthly newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com

Website:  https://cynthiasax.com/
Newsletter:   https://cynthiasax.com/newsletter/
Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/cynthiasax/
Twitter:  @CynthiaSax
Blog:  https://tasteofcyn.com/

UPDATE: The winner is…Laura Tavares!
*~*~*

You might ask, What is May Day? Well, it’s rooted in old Celtic/pagan celebrations. It marks the halfway point between Spring and Summer, and in the old days, May Day poles were erected, flowers gathered, wreaths made to wear atop heads, and everyone danced around the pole as a way to appease the gods to give them a fertile year—crops and humans.

So, Happy May Day! 

Today’s the high schoolers’ Prom Day, so we’re hoping no fertility rites will be goin’ on at the venue! 🙂

My dd and SIL have been busy getting the homestead cleaned up after a harsh winter. They’ve been putting up fences—hundreds of feet of horse fence and barbed wire. They’re nearly done. They’ve cleared land, planted a garden. I bought rose bushes for my dd because she needed some flowering plants and prefers perennials to annuals. One of the 2-qt bushes I bought had a picture of a gorgeous floribunda rose with deep purple blooms. The first bloom opened and the puzzle contest will show you what we got!

Enjoy the day, dance a little, celebrate! 

Puzzle-Contest

For a chance to win the download of your choice from my vast backlist, tell me what you’ve been doing to celebrate/mark the changing season! And enjoy the puzzle!

Now that the days are warmer it’s time to throw open the windows and let in the fresh air. Each new season offers a chance to renew ourselves and our homes, to take stock of what’s working and what needs to change.

For most of us, spring means spring cleaning—airing out our homes, washing down walls, hunting down dust bunnies, and giving everything a scrub to freshen it up. It’s also an opportunity to go through what we have stored in our closets and dresser drawers.

I don’t know about you, but the only clothing I bought last year was socks. I mean, I wasn’t going anywhere, so I didn’t see the point of new clothes. Some of what I’m wearing is getting a little ragged. I’m not a big clothes shopper. I tend to find something I like and buy it in multiple colors and call it a day. But it’s time to toss what’s faded and worn and make a list of what I need. I’m looking forward to it.

The same goes for the linen closet. My summer sheets, which only get used about three months of the year, must be about fifteen years old. (I spend my money on sets of heavier jersey sheets since they’re the ones I use most often.) The colors are faded and I fear they won’t last for many more washings without disintegrating. That’s something else to go on the list, along with new pillows. The ones I have are starting to get a little too flat for comfort.

Since I live in an apartment, there’s no garage to sift through, but I will be poking around the kitchen cupboards and closets to see what else can go. I’m a big believer in yard sales and donating what no longer suits me. It keeps things in circulation and out of the landfill. And it also makes room for the new.

Happy cleaning!

Salvation Pack

Have you discovered the Salvation Pack? If you love alpha wolves, you’ll love the Salvation Pack.

Wolf at the Door
Wolf in her Bed
Wolf on the Run
Wolf from the Past
Wolf on the Hunt
Wolf on a Mission
Wolf in his Heart
Wolf in her Soul
Wolf of her Own

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0753H2PLQ

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, assassins, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit me at:
Website: https://www.njwalters.com
Blog: https://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Newsletter Sign Up: https://eepurl.com/gdblg5
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

UPDATE: The winner is…Dana Zamora!
*~*~*

Spring has sprung—at least here in Northwest Georgia! The flowers are going crazy. There’s green as far as the eye can see, and of course, the yellow haze of pine pollen coats everything. We’re joyfully wheezing and sneezing our way through the days with runny eyes and runny noses as we embrace the wonder of spring.

Here on the farm, spring means BABIES! Our first calf dropped last night—a little late, but better late than never. We have four new chicks that will augment our four old ladies who supply us with eggs. Piglets should be coming in another few weeks. The energy of spring is like nothing else. It just lifts your soul when you walk among new life, full of possibility and hope.

I think creating a story is like that too. It starts as a baby idea, a kernel of thought. Then, it starts to grow, sometimes not even consciously, until it defines itself. Sometimes, it rises in my brain, fully formed with crystal clear images and parades around like a gaudy Vegas side-show until I give it my attention. Other times, it whispers and nags, slipping into my dreams as half-formed ghosts, only revealing itself clearly when I focus solely on it.

Then, the magic starts. Just like that buzzing lift of spring, the story takes root and blooms—and it’s the most amazing feeling in the world. It’s why I’m shamelessly addicted to writing! Like any infant, you don’t know what it will be when it grows up, but breathing life into a story is like experiencing spring over and over!

One of my book babies releases today! Thank you, Delilah, for letting me drop by and celebrate with you wonderful folks!

Pure Magic Contest

I’m offering a giveaway of an ebook copy of Pure Magic, a multi-author anthology that features my story—Hecate’s Hand-Me-Downs. To enter, leave a comment about your favorite part of spring! I’ll pick a winner on May 1^st!

Hecate Rigby wants nothing to do with magic or being the witch she was raised to be. But, when Cate’s forced to return to Ravensdale after her Grandmother’s death, she soon finds out her Grandma led a double life—one that will change Cate’s life forever. The Hammer of the Gods is missing, and Cate was the last one to have it. Will she step up, embrace her powers and her heritage, and find the hammer before it falls into the wrong hands and plunges the world into war?

Grab your copy here: https://books2read.com/pure-magic

Here’s an excerpt from Hecate’s Hand-Me-Downs:

Rook squawked and puffed his feathers up.

In a voice that shook the walls, he announced, “Behold, the God of the Forge.”

He flew down from his perch and landed in front of the door, bowing his head with one wing spread out to the side.

I spun around to see a man shuffle into the store and stop short of the mess. Despite his twisted legs, he towered over me and seemed to suck up all the available space. His t-shirt read ‘Save an Anvil, Bang a Blacksmith’ and stretched to its limits over his massive shoulders and muscular chest. I glanced down at his legs. His knees touched, and his pigeon toes canted in at an awkward angle.

The dichotomy of his top and bottom halves would have distracted me, but his bedroom brown eyes snagged my attention.

Goddess help me, but I’m a sucker for a brown-eyed boy.

The man wore his dark brown hair long and pulled it back in a simple ponytail gathered at the nape of his neck. His body screamed bad boy, but his eyes whispered tenderhearted dreamer.

Rook squawked and pecked my ankle. “Show some respect.”

“What?” I gave myself a little shake and put a smile on my face, reminding myself that it was bad manners to stare.

“Hello, Mistress Rigby.” He nodded at me as his gaze swept over the disarray in the shop, and his mouth turned down with a frown.

I drew a breath to launch into my ‘we’re closed’ speech, but he cut me off.

“I’ve come for the hammer. Bring it to me, please.”

The command in his voice was unmistakable, and my patience, brown eyes notwithstanding, found its end. I didn’t like his tone.

“The hammer isn’t here. A tall, beautiful, scary lady beat you to it.” I put my hands on my hips and mirrored his frown. “As you can see, we’ve had a bit of a…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say. Finally, I just said, “We’re not open.”

“Rowen Rigby, Sentinel and Guardian of the Crossroads, do not play games. I will have the Hammer of the Gods as I am its rightful owner.” The man seemed to get bigger, and his voice filled the shop.

Magic crackled in the air. Pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.

Rowen had not been remiss in my arcane education. I knew mythology as well as spell casting, herb lore, and healing magic. Though I hadn’t embraced the craft after leaving home as an adult, the lessons still lingered in my mind. The Hammer of the Gods, Rook’s announcement of the God of the Forge, and the man’s palpable power all came into focus. Impossible as it was, Hephaestus, Son of Hera, God of the Forge, and Olympian outsider, stood in my shop.

*~*~*

Stalk me (it’s not as kinky as it sounds!) for more giveaways, games, and fun: https://linktr.ee/andycarley