I’ve been thinking a lot about bodies lately. Not even always in a salacious way (though, as Tony Stark said, Cap does have America’s ass). Politics and the social zeitgeist seem to be infused with talk about bodies — shaming them, loving them, legislating control of them, denying or permitting others to see or touch them. And that discussion is relevant to my latest book, More Than Stardust, because my heroine, Chloe, doesn’t have one.

A body, I mean. She’s a self-aware, nanorobotic artificial intelligence who at first believes that her lack of a body means she isn’t real. Which sucks so hard for her, and she hates it. To some extent, the book is about her attempts to get a body, and then when she does find a makeshift solution she must grapple with what it means to want one, and what it means to have one.

All that makes it sound like the book is super thoughty and dull, but that’s not entirely accurate. I mean, if readers develop a thought as a result of this book, that’s great. But mostly, it’s about being human and falling in love and that point in everybody’s life when you have to decide between saving the world and destroying it.

Chloe on the topic of bodies… An excerpt…

One of her pings pinged back. Aha. So she wasn’t completely without resources. There was a system here after all, with her, inside the cage.

Why were you hiding from me, cutie? She prodded it, distrusting, inhabited it slowly. It could be a trap. Or, well, another one.

Eyes first. She hooked in and saw…a cage, duh. She’d already guessed that part.

But also, a…body.

A real, honest-to-Spock body. And she was in it.

The body was a mech-clone: organic tissues over a titanium frame, making the robot look human despite the fact that it had been constructed by human scientists. This model was female, mathematically proportioned to mimic outdated ideals of feminine beauty. Clearly a pleasure model, D-series or earlier, made back when artificants were still building them big. This one was more than two meters tall, towering in the dimly lit room like a pulp-scifi alien barbarian. Garrett would totally dig it.

Chloe tested the systems one by one: eyes, ears, integrated control modules, processor core. Ahhhhh. Plenty of space for her to streeeeeeetch.

When Mama Adele used to get stressed out, she’d tap herself on the inside of her right wrist and repeat a mantra: cool sheets, warm sand. Chloe had no idea what either of those things felt like, but she could imagine. They felt like one hundred forty-eight and twenty-four, respectively. Doubles were always squishy and warm, numbers she could burrow into and sigh. If math and a massage had a baby, it would be a double.

This body was totally cool sheets, warm sand, one hundred forty-eight and a zillion and a half, doubled.

Body.

She had a body. Eeeeee! Just like Nathan had promised.

Oh, wait, Nathan. Something she was supposed to remember about Nathan.

He wasn’t here. Had he…? No, more importantly, had she?

Did I ki…hurt him?

The thought lit up all her sensors, dug a black trough of suspicion through her shiny new body. Even for an unnatural creature, taking a life felt deeply wrong. It felt worse when that life hadn’t been a stranger. When he’d been almost a friend.

She blinked her mech eyes, but they stuck closed for lack of lubrication. She tried again, prying the lids open with the micro-hydraulics in her face. Shifting fluids, opening sphincters. There you go. Good eyes.

Beyond the cages—two Faraday shells, not one, proving her captors feared her properly—the room was so big she couldn’t see its edges. A lone LED swung on a cord above her head. Two figures moved beyond the second shell.

“Tell it if it gets mouthy again, or tries to escape,” said one of the figures in a low but commanding voice—a familiar, hateful voice, “we can push a charge in there that will fry it nanite-by-nanite. Kind of an auto-destruct sequence I developed especially for uppity AIs, taking it out piece by piece, slowly, so it has to watch its own demise.”

Yep. The smaller of the two figures was definitely La Mars Madrid. Or no wait, a telepresence hologram of La Mars Madrid.

“As opposed to dying fast,” said the second figure. Male. Taller than Nathan. Slender, willowy. His features were cloaked in shadow, and his voice had a slink to it like wormy soup.

Blue electricity licked out from the cage wall and brushed Chloe’s mech-clone shoulder, searing her borrowed body. A tendril of burnt something rose from the spot that had resembled flesh.

She wished it hurt. She wanted it to hurt. Physical pain would justify the fury that crackled inside her mind. Oooh, she wanted to turn that shock on them. Fry their circuits until they…

Like I did with Nathan?

Oh, right. Shit.

“She doesn’t feel anything,” La Mars Madrid was saying, “but she wants to. That was her deal with Grace. I downloaded his records. Fascinating, the things they spoke of while he was pretending to be at her mercy. He promised her he could house her in a body, as you have in fact done. He claimed to me later that we could use the technology for our purposes, but I am less certain. The theory assumes transferring an AI from body to body would be easier than the brain-slice replication process they performed on Marisa Vallejo.”

“Nathan was stupid,” said the man, swaying closer to the light. “Consider becoming more selective in choosing your toys, hmm?”

Chloe could see him more clearly. He wore a mock-turtleneck sweater and soft-soled shoes. Glasses rested on the end of his long nose, glinting light from the blue electrical charge that still scurried along her cage’s perimeter. Wait, glasses? Presumably he could afford augments. He was chatting like he was close buddies with the richest woman in the world, after all. Yet he wore glasses, as if clinging to his imperfections made some kind of point.

“Nathan’s theory assumes we could digitize a human consciousness and upload it.” The man snapped long fingers. “Poof. Just like that.”

Digitize a what? A her? Chloe wasn’t human. Apparently either La Mars Madrid either didn’t know what she talking about or had no idea how Chloe was constructed.

She was right about one thing, though: Chloe had made that deal with Nathan. She had been promised a body, the whole kit and caboodle (idiom: and what even was a caboodle?). Taste. Smell. Touch. Aging and breathing and hugging and…well she hadn’t told him this, but also most of all she wanted kissing. Cuddling. Coitus.

She would wrap such capability up like a present and gift it to Garrett and watch his wolf eyes go wide. Fixed right on her. And he wouldn’t care how she’d started, or why. And he wouldn’t care that the free-fae mess of the world was all her fault. All he would care about was the now, the real. Her.

In that half second between Nathan’s offer and her acceptance of it, she’d let her mind imagine scenarios, experiences she could indulge if she had a body at her disposal. Ways she could exist as a real girl. To be that, to be whole…she had taken a risk and trusted Nathan.

Bad mistake. Huge.

More Than Stardust

She never wanted to be a god. She only wanted to be a girl.

Chloe, a self-aware, highly illegal nanorobotic artificial intelligence knows a thing or two about wanting. The growing Machine Rebellion wants her to become its god. The technocratic global Consortium wants to cage her, take her apart, and reverse-engineer her. Her family wants to keep her a secret. Her best friend Garrett wants her safe. Chloe is a thing made of wants.

And it’s time the world knew hers.

Available now at Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07SY9KR5N 
And everywhere else: https://books2read.com/u/mg0qGv

The main character in my book, Only a Good Man Will Do, is Daniel Goodman. This is book 1 of the Good Man series. (Goodman = Good Man, get it?) Daniel teaches at an all boys’ school, and for 11 years, I did, too. I loved working with boys, and as an only child, I didn’t know if I would or not. Here are a few generalizations about teaching boys. And please, these are truly generalizations.

1. Girls did their homework and turned it in on time.
   Boys had the most interesting reasons why they didn’t have their homework when they were supposed it. It was frustrating at times, but also entertaining.
2. Girls were more sensitive.
   Boys in high school are also sensitive, but you don’t have to walk on eggshells around them.
3. Girls try to follow the rules.
   Boys enjoy a challenge, and if they’re caught, they usually are philosophical about their punishment because they’ve weighed it against what they want to do beforehand.
4. Girls insult each other with a bite.
   Boys rag on each other and then move on.
5. Girls gained some polish and poise during their schooling.
   Boys change in a different way. More than polish, they gain maturity in the way they stand and how they interact with adults.

Now, I taught lots of boys who did their work on time, were very sensitive, followed the rules, didn’t insult each other even jokingly, and also matured into fine young men. These generalities are all takeaways from talking with girls’ school teachers I met at dances and debates. I was surprised to discover after talking with them that I would not have been happy teaching girls. Despite all the talk to the contrary, boys really are different from girls! And I applaud the difference.

Only a Good Man Will Do

Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Daniel Goodman is a man on a mission. He aims to become headmaster of Westover Academy. For that he needs a particular, special woman to help him set high standards. Into his cut and dried life of moral and upright behavior, comes Eve Star, formerly one of Europe’s foremost exotic dancers. Her life is anything but cut and dried, black and white. Daniel is drawn to her like a kid to chocolate. Nothing good can come of this attraction. Or can it? He is after all, a good man.

Buy links:
Amazon:https://amzn.to/2q7ovi4
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1129630612?ean=2940161770603
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/898008
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/only-a-good-man-will-do

Excerpt

“Daniel, am I talking to myself, here?”

“Oh, no, I’m…” He chuckled an amused admission. “Tell me what you said again.”

He could almost hear Eve smile. “I said, you called at four-thirty on Saturday and Sunday, so I took a wild leap that you would today, too.”

“Ah.” Smiling to the empty room, he squirmed to get into a more comfortable position. “A woman of logic.”

“Absolutely. You don’t want to play me in chess. I think five or six moves ahead.”

“I’ll remember that. There’s nothing worse than seeing a guy cry when he’s been beaten at chess by a girl. We shouldn’t talk too long. I know you don’t have a lot of help this time of day.”

“I’m paying Jed extra to come in a bit early.”

Her voice was low, as though she didn’t really want to tell him. The words struck his heart.

“You don’t have money to be paying Jed extra, Eve. I’ll start calling later, after dinner and before I grade papers.”

“No, don’t. It’s quiet this time of day and I want these few minutes to myself. Jed doesn’t mind, and he can use a few extra bucks.”

“Well, okay.”

“Besides, you won’t be calling forever. Soon you’ll be head of the school and won’t have free time for the likes of me.”

Daniel hadn’t promised her on Friday that he’d call. He’d simply felt the desire and acted on it. Then, by unspoken agreement, they hadn’t mentioned what might happen next in their relationship. They’d spent time sharing that day in their respective worlds.

Today, he’d discovered the desire to talk to Eve wasn’t an “at loose ends” feeling that sometimes came over him on weekends. After his dorm assistant had arrived, Daniel had locked his doors, put his books and papers away, and picked up the phone. Only after they’d been well into the fantasy did he remember he hadn’t even removed his gown and jacket before pressing her number. He’d wanted to hear her, find out what her day had been like and communicate his own. He felt seventeen again, with an infatuation about to drive him crazy. Except men his age didn’t have infatuations. They had obsessions.

“Hey,” Eve charged, “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, like I was hunting for compliments or reassurances. I was simply stating a fact, the way we both know it to be. I want this to be short term as much as you do, so don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

But he was. How long did obsessions last, anyway? Daniel had never allowed himself to be distracted by a woman or anything that might waylay his goals.

About the Author

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex. Writing was so much fun Dee decided to keep at it. That’s how she spends her days. Her nights? Well, she’s lucky that her dream man, childhood sweetheart, and long-time hubby are all the same guy, and nights are their secret. For romance ranging from sweet to historical, contemporary to paranormal and more join Dee on Nomad Authors. Contact Dee at dsknight@deesknight.com.

Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: https://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter (sample): https://preview.mailerlite.com/o2g1i0?fbclid=IwAR0COlyuPY-Hu30KTBdT092j_GZeuN5z4pc1LtsvHTyr6IbiSpsGqeIgT90

Another puzzle! I’m pre-posting this, so I’m HOPING this is how I’m feeling at this point in the writers’ retreat! Enjoy!

Most of the time, when I write, the story is completely fictional. Protecting Zarifah, my newest book, is different. I am the founder of Shimmy Mob Memphis. Founded in 2011, by Francesca Sabeya Anastasi, Shimmy Mob is an International organization with chapters all over the world. We dance each year on international belly dance day and raise funds for our local domestic abuse shelters and we raise awareness. We dance to the same song, doing the same choreography and wearing the same t-shirts.

Next year will be the tenth year for Shimmy Mob. The Memphis chapter has raised over ten thousand dollars for the shelter through the years. I am proud of my dance sisters who stepped up to help. Together we are stronger. www.shimmymob.com

People often asked me why I signed the city up when I had retired from my troupe and was no longer dancing. I was focused on my first book out in print, and was busy going to book signings with little time to spare. I made time. No one had signed the city up. The clock was ticking. Why did I sign up?

I usually have a four-word answer to that question. Babies with broken bones. Domestic abuse hits the youngest child, to the oldest person. Substitute women for babies or elderly for babies in that four word sentence. Whoever is the victim, domestic violence is wrong. And it needs to stop. I do not want to live in a world where babies have broken bones because a malicious adult injured them or where a caretaker breaks an elderly person. That’s simply not acceptable to me. The work I’ve done with Shimmy Mob is one small way I could help.

That first year we faced a lot of challenges. In 2011 Memphis had tornados, the river rising and flooding. We had to find a place to dance and it was hard. We thought we had a place but then they backed out. No one wanted to let us dance because a Shimmy Mob/flash mob was brand new and other flash mobs had sometimes led to violence. I often thought of the irony as I searched for a place to dance. We were trying to stop domestic violence and couldn’t find a place to dance because others had been violent.

Forty-five dancers signed up from various dance groups in Memphis along with a few dancers from out of town. We started rehearsals but still had nowhere to dance. Last minute permission came from Center City Commission through Dawn Vinson, who would be dancing with us. We would dance downtown outdoors on the trolley line.

Only a fraction of our dancers made it out to dance because of the storms. We had tornados moving in. I could have called it, but staying in touch with the folks putting on Memphis in May concerts down by the river, I decided not to until they did. Bands playing on a metal stage would be called off if it became too dangerous. My oldest son was working the event. He does Tech Theater and works the lights and sound. We were both tuned in the weather.

So, we danced. We danced in between tornado sirens and watching for tornados, but we got the job done and we raised a thousand dollars that first year even though we received no local news coverage for our event. They were too busy covering the storms.

The photographer for the Commercial Appeal called me as we were driving away. He had just missed us. I thought we had been a small voice that few heard, but even a small voice can help. Even a small voice can speak up. That too is an important part of fighting domestic violence and an important example to set. Later, Shimmy Mob International honored us for our efforts.

Honoring Shimmy Mob Memphis in 2011

Shimmy Mob Memphis continued to dance each year. Our first year the funds went directly to the YWCA shelter. I took toiletries and diapers we’d collected to the shelter. There are so many ways to help. At the time it was the only shelter in the tri-state area – not enough for a metropolitan area the size of Memphis. In later years we donated to The Family Safety Center, the first place domestic violence victims can go locally. It is a wonderful place and offers many services.

Things often come full circle in my life. Now I’m retired from team leading, and instead, I’m writing about Shimmy Mob to shine a light and spread awareness.

Zarifah, my heroine in Protecting Zarifah is as assistant team leader in the first Shimmy Mob event. It is 2011 and they will have to take all the steps to put an event on. First, sign up the city. Second, get the word out to dancers and encourage them to sign up. Third, get the music and choreography and learn it. Fourth, find a place to dance. Fifth, set up donations. Sixth, promote the event. Then dance on Shimmy Mob day. Afterward, turn in money to the shelter. Send video and pics to International Shimmy Mob and share on social media.

Readers will get a glimpse into the world of a real belly dancer, while also reading about a fictional one that was engaged to the wrong man. When he is arrested for domestic abuse, she is done with him and determined that he will never touch her again. She files a restraining order against him.

Cutter, her new Navy SEAL boyfriend, will be there to protect her if her ex boyfriend comes around again and when she dances for Shimmy Mob, his protecting services are needed.

Available on Amazon for KU
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07TKHM4FC/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i0

And in print

For more about Debra visit: www.debraparmley.com

I’m everywhere on social media.
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/debra.parmley.7
Facebook fan page https://www.facebook.com/authordebraparmley
FB fan group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/debraparmley/
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/DebraParmley
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/debraparmley/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/debraparmley/
Twitter https://twitter.com/DebraParmley

Cover Model Corner blog: https://covermodelcorner.wordpress.com/
Writing Blog: https://threadingtheweb.wordpress.com/
Newsletter sign up link: https://eepurl.com/ZUyC1

Debra Parmley’s Beautiful Day YouTube Channel
https://www.youtube.com/user/DebraParmleyRomance/featured?view_as=subscriber

Link to my old radio show Book Lights:https://bit.ly/BookLights

Authors love to put a character through trial and tribulations and push their limits. Delilah’s really good at it, isn’t she? It’s fun reading about people forced to grow and change. But doing it ourselves can be pretty painful, unless we find the right challenge to encourage the proper kind of growth. I found the right one for me—I auditioned for my local community theater, the Hamilton Players production of Disaster! A 70s Disaster Movie… Musical!

I sing regularly in my church choir, but I haven’t acted or danced since my community college days in the early 80’s, and I wasn’t particularly great then. When I heard about this particular musical, I thought it was the perfect vehicle to push a few of my limits. The music is familiar—it’s all 70’s hits—and I wasn’t trying for a lead role, just a position in the ensemble.

The audition itself was rather nerve-wracking. The singing was no problem, and the light improvisation wasn’t too bad, but the dancing? Yikes. Just the few steps we learned that night were really hard for me. I’m physically fit for my age, but I’m pretty klutzy, and hip swings and pelvic thrusts aren’t part of my normal workout routine! So, I did my best and laughed off my flubs. When they asked us for our best 70’s free dance, I decided to dance like I just didn’t care and went full-on Saturday Night Fever. Pretty sure I looked ridiculous, but hey, at least I gave it my best shot.

The cast list went up just two days later and to my great shock, I was on it as part of the ensemble. We started rehearsals the next week, getting scripts and doing a full read-through. During the read-through, I was assigned the part of Victim 1—by all the suns, I have lines!—and eventually, I ended up in a ‘named’ part as The Blind Woman. We started on choreography that week as well. Initially, I was disappointed to not be in all of the ensemble pieces, but it wasn’t long before I was grateful. Dancing is a huge challenge for me, especially synchronized dancing.

Not only was I working hard at every rehearsal—four nights a week plus Sunday afternoons—but doing extra dance practices and an hour or so at home most days. Learning even the simplest steps was hard and every muscle surrounding my hips was screaming at me for a couple of weeks. But I persevered and while I’ll never be a natural or great dancer, I got good enough to not totally disgrace our lovely choreographers, Michelle Post and Natalie Naidl.

The singing, speaking and blocking (how you move on the stage while speaking) was easy in comparison. Our director, Denise Rose, and musical director, Emily Athman, handed out critiques, praise and a few blunt expressions of disappointment, pushing all of us to our best performances. I learned a lot from both of them and really enjoyed the whole process, even when it was slightly painful for me personally.

After our final week of dress rehearsals, I was too tired to be terribly nervous before the first performance. Once the performances started, I had so much fun! Sure, there were a few blunders, forgotten lines and missed entrances, but overall, it was smooth and over too quickly. By the second week, we were firmly in the groove, a tight-knit team. We had a great time on stage and off. Those of us with minor roles had a backstage ‘dance party’ during one of the big solo numbers on stage. One of the lead players wrote a lip-synching script for all of us to a medley of ABBA songs which she filmed before performances. Many nights the cast went out after the performance too. I was thrilled, excited and happy to be a part of the amazing whole.

After nine performances, we took our final bows with standing ovations and calls for extending the run. After our final show, we broke down the set and had a cast party. It was definitely a bittersweet day. I’m happy to have all the time back, but I’m really sad I won’t be hanging out with all these fantastic people every day.

Overall, it was a great way to push my limits a little and force a little growth. I highly recommend community theater to anyone. If you’re not into performing, there are many ways to contribute: on house staff, fund-raising, set building and technical crew are just a few. Check out your local theater!

I’ll definitely try out for another show, but probably not for a while—I have another book to write! And speaking of, I’ve just released my fifth in the Folding Space Series, Lightwave: Circini Search. If you like adventure and battles in space with a little romance, like Firefly or Star Wars, I think you’ll like my books.

If you sign up for my newsletter on amscottwrites.com, you’ll get a free novella, Lightwave: Nexus Station. Check it out! Have a wonderful summer and check back with the talented and generous Delilah Devlin daily!

Hello Delilah! I’m delighted to be on your blog today! I’m sharing some insight on my hero from Destiny of a Warrior. In addition, I’m hosting a giveaway. Readers, don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter at the bottom of this post for a chance to win a fabulous grand prize package!

In order to understand this great warrior, Aidan Kerrigan, let me tell you about the world of the Fae…

I’ve always been drawn to the ancient Celtic tales of mythology—from Cuchulainn and the Red Branch, to the epic sagas about the invasions of Ireland. I blame in on my heritage. The blood of my ancestors flows heavily within me. They speak to me constantly. So it only made sense that I would develop and expand the world of the Fenian Fae Warriors. Theirs was a world rich in legends, colors, and senses.

I’ve based my own fictional account on the legend of the Tuatha Dé Danann—one of the invasions of Ireland. They were known as the Shining Ones or the Fae. The Tuatha Dé Danann was defeated in two battles by the Milesians, whom historians and scholars alike agree were probably the first Gaels in Ireland. It was agreed that the new invaders (Milesians) and the Tuatha Dé Danann would each rule half of Ireland. Therefore, it was that Amergin of the Milesians chose that half of Ireland which lay above ground, leaving the Tuatha Dé Danann to retreat below. They were led underground by Manannán mac Lir, God of the Sea, who shielded them with an enchanted mist from mortal eyes. As time passed, they became known as the Sidhe (Shee), or Ireland’s faery folk.

The great Aidan Kerrigan was a tale I feared to write. When he first appeared in the story, Dragon Knight’s Medallion, Order of the Dragon Knights, Book 2, I panicked. I did not know he was a Fenian Warrior until he walked through the crowd of people at the airport to greet his daughter, Aileen. His presence loomed mighty and grew with the previous stories in the Legends of the Fenian Warriors. Regardless, I knew then that his and Rose’s love story had to be told.

With each Fenian Warrior’s story, I shared a layer about this Fae. Little did I know when I penned Aidan’s first line of dialogue that he was the leader of the Fenian Warriors, came from royalty, and his sister was Queen of the Fae realm. He chose not to reveal any of this to me. And this is why I became terrified. What more could he share?

Well, dear readers, Aidan made it simple. He told me to write a love story, stating, “For you see, love is greater than all the power attained in the world—be it human or Fae.”

Therefore, I took you back in time to when Aidan was the leader of the Brotherhood. To when this great warrior had no blemish to stain his life and love tossed his world upside down, altering everything he knew.

And the lovely Rose MacLaren was a perfect match. As he professed to her, “I saw beauty inside the depth of your soul. Your intelligence would rival any Fae in the herbal gardens, and you possess a wisdom that sparks from a desire to learn more. You challenge me.”

 I hope you’ve enjoyed a glimpse behind the scenes of this powerful love story. Here is a piece of music that helped to inspire my writing for this couple:

CELTIC GATE – INTO A MAGICAL FOREST.
Youtube:  https://youtu.be/GlPF-CSCf2o

Destiny of a Warrior
Legends of the Fenian Warriors, Book 4

His accolades were many. His loyalty to the Fae, unwavering.
Until love tempted him to discard duty and claim what was forbidden.

“You met him in the Order of the Dragon Knights. Now, journey to the realm of the Fae and witness their greatest legend!”

As leader of the Fenian Warriors, Aidan Kerrigan’s accolades are many and his loyalty to the Fae unwavering. When an unexpected mission sends him to the human world and a chance encounter with Rose MacLaren, he’s tempted for the first time in his existence to discard duty and claim what is forbidden.

Rose MacLaren, a Society of the Thistle member, yearns to expand her botanical knowledge with her love of history. After her rescue by a handsome stranger, she is compelled to look beyond what her rational mind comprehends and unravel the secret of the standing stones, as well as the man who captivates her.

In a mystical world ruled by ancient laws and edicts, can a fierce warrior choose a path destined for love? And will a woman honoring the ways of the land believe in a myth only spoken of in legends? If they do, will their love be enough to defy death’s punishment?

Excerpt

A chill of foreboding swept through him. In her short time of being among these standing stones, she’d obtained bits of knowledge no one else had come upon. “Continue,” he encouraged softly.

Hugging her notebook against her chest, she went to the tallest stone in the center. “These symbols and images on the back mirror the three centered on the slab. In addition, they are all the same as the other site outside of Glasgow.”

“They’re merely circles,” he admitted, keeping his voice steady. “The Celtic triskele symbol also decorates many other stone structures.”

Her brow furrowed in obvious concentration as she disappeared around the back of the stone.

Tossing the pinecone aside, Aidan stood. His instincts screamed at him to do something to prevent her from further inspecting the stone. Only he knew the significance. And he now understood why he was sent here. In all his travels, not one human had documented his time among them. Or so he believed. Upon his arrival, he longed to pulverize the stones to shards of dust after viewing the back. The altar stone had remained buried under moss, dirt, and ivy. The same was true with the tallest stone at its base.

He fought against extending his hand outward and sinking the area a thousand feet underground. Making quick strides to Rose, he came to an abrupt halt. Her face was ashen as she knelt behind the stone, sketching an entire scene on her notepad. One side mirrored the stones, but on the opposite page, her hand drew an epic vista.

The blood pounded inside his head, and he dared to draw in a breath. With each stroke of her hand, an image came to life and his greatest fear unfolded. Slowly, Aidan lifted his hand. The power built and traveled down his arm. He had to destroy the picture. Banish the past vision from her mind. Eradicate all knowledge of him. Seal the door to the past from the present.

The truth must never be revealed.

But when Rose lifted her gaze to meet his, Aidan’s heart stopped. For the first time in his life, he was torn between duty and his own personal need.

“I am sorry,” he stated in a strangled voice. 

Buy Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RBQC8VC/
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/destiny-of-a-warrior-mary-morgan/1131596594
AppleBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/destiny-of-a-warrior/id1463476741
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/destiny-of-a-warrior
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Destiny-Warrior-Legends-Fenian-Warriors-ebook/dp/B07RBQC8VC/
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Destiny-Warrior-Legends-Fenian-Warriors-ebook/dp/B07RBQC8VC
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Destiny-Warrior-Legends-Fenian-Warriors-ebook/dp/B07RBQC8VC/
BookStrand: https://www.bookstrand.com/destiny-of-a-warrior
Google Play:https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Mary_Morgan_Destiny_of_a_Warrior

About the Author

Award-winning Celtic paranormal and fantasy romance author, Mary Morgan, resides in Northern California with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return.

 Mary’s passion for books started at an early age along with an overactive imagination. Inspired by her love for history and ancient Celtic mythology, her tales are filled with powerful warriors, brave women, magic, and romance. It wasn’t until the closure of Borders Books where Mary worked that she found her true calling by writing romance. Now, the worlds she created in her mind are coming to life within her stories.

If you enjoy history, tortured heroes, and a wee bit of magic, then time-travel within the pages of her books.

Connect with Mary at these places:
WEBSITE/BLOG:  https://www.marymorganauthor.com
TWITTER:  https://twitter.com/m_morganauthor
FACEBOOK AUTHOR PAGE: https://www.facebook.com/MaryMorganAuthor/
GOODREADS:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8271002.Mary_Morgan
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE:  https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Morgan/e/B00KPE3NWI/
PINTEREST:  www.pinterest.com/marymorgan50/
INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/marymorgan2/
BOOKBUB: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mary-morgan
LINKEDIN: https://www.linkedin.com/in/mary-morgan-2634a77a/
BOOKGORILLA: https://www.bookgorilla.com/author/B00KPE3NWI/mary-morgan/kcc

Contest

RAFFLECOPTER: (June 5 – July 15, US and Canada only)
Grand Prize: Signed print copy of DESTINY OF A WARRIOR
Celtic jeweled bookmark
$5 Starbucks Gift Card 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

OR

Direct Link to Rafflecopter: https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/1e1c4f647/?

Here’s a puzzle to enjoy while I’m away! Un-puzzle it and send me good vibes!