Fall is my favorite time of year. In addition to cooler weather, the excitement of the approaching holidays crackles in the air. Spring colors enchant me; Fall creates electricity which enlivens my imagination.

My latest flight of imagination is a new western historical romance series called BRIDE BRIGADE, and JOSEPHINE is the first release.  Eventually there will be seven books in this series. Names of the diverse heroines to follow are Angeline, Ophelia, Cassandra, Lorraine, Rachel, and Prudence. Due to fitting these around other scheduled projects, Bride Brigade books will be spaced out over the next six or seven months. I hope you’ll read each one.

I have to admit I love the name of my fictional town, Tarnation, located in the Palo Pinto Mountains of North Central Texas just north of present-day Interstate 20. Every state has numerous unusual town names. This one makes me smile every time I use the word but I know why the town is called by that name. You have to read JOSEPHINE to find out.

Here’s the synopsis of JOSEPHINE:

Josephine Nailor is desperate to escape a terrible situation. When the opportunity arises via a newspaper ad, she and her best friend slip away from their oppressive fathers and head for Richmond.  Neither can relax until they’re far away from their tiny hometown. With wealthy young widow Lydia Harrison’s help, Josephine and six other young women have a new life waiting in Tarnation, Texas.

Michael Buchanan is fairly content running his mercantile and being mayor of Tarnation. The town is dusty and tiny, but it’s growing. He believes it holds all he needs to be happy—except a wife. There are no available women in town, but he hopes Lydia Harrison’s Bride Brigade will offer a woman he can wed. He is immediately attracted to Josephine.

But Josephine has every reason to mistrust men in general and politicians in particular. Will her misgivings ruin her chance at happiness?

Here’s an excerpt from JOSEPHINE:

Josephine stepped from the stage and stared at the men assembled. Every muscle and bone in her body ached from the long ride from Fort Worth. A breeze swirled dust from the street without cooling her skin.

She thought she’d been prepared for a small western town, but Tarnation shocked her. There were only a few stores. Surrounded by low hills she learned were called the Palo Pinto Mountains, the town must not have over two hundred residents.

One of the tallest and most handsome men she’d ever seen stepped forward and removed his western hat to display thick dark hair. His electrifying blue gaze locked with hers until she pretended to check her purse.

He said, “Welcome to Tarnation, ladies. Nice to have you back, Mrs. Harrison, Mrs. Gaston.”

Lydia brightened in spite of her exhausted appearance. “Girls, this is our mayor, Michael Buchanan, who owns the mercantile. The man beside him wearing a badge is Sheriff Adam Penders.”

Inwardly, Josephine cringed. Barely off the stage and already she encountered the mayor and the sheriff. While they were both nice looking and neither leered, she certainly wouldn’t trust either man. She’d hoped to reach a safe haven where no one knew her and she’d be free of her father and crooked politicians.

Josephine had no intention of being at the mercy of any man ever again. She’d look for some means to earn her own way. Glancing around the businesses, she realized her choices were severely limited.

The other men pressed forward and Josephine took a step backward. Mayor Buchanan raised his arms. “Gentlemen, please don’t crowd. You’ll all have a chance to meet the ladies soon. They’ve had a long journey and are doubtless tired. Give them time to get settled. In the meantime, give a hand with the luggage.”

In an instant, the trunks and cases that weighed down the stage were unloaded and hefted. Lydia led the girls, many of whom chattered excitedly. Following behind, men joked and talked while they carried the women’s belongings.

Lydia turned in at a neat gray clapboard home trimmed with white and wine. A painted picket fence surrounded the front yard. The house was huge, by far the largest in sight. Josephine believed this home would have been elegant in Virginia before the War. In this dusty Texas town, the effect was astonishing.

Lydia smiled graciously. “Thank you for your help, gentlemen. I’ll be sending each of you an invitation to our social events later.”

*~*~*

Buy Links include:

Amazon https://amzn.com/B015M4FJUY  in print or e-book
Apple https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1041863831
Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/josephine-25
Nook https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/josephine-caroline-clemmons/1122676778;jsessionid=93795F25673A572EB3B4D1AC1378BDCA.prodny_store01-va10?ean=2940152308112  in print or e-book.

Caroline Clemmons is an Amazon bestselling and award winning author of historical and contemporary western romances. A frequent speaker at conferences and seminars, she has taught workshops on characterization, point of view, and layering a novel.

Caroline and her husband live in the heart of Texas cowboy country with their menagerie of rescued pets. When she’s not indulging her passion for writing, Caroline enjoys family, reading, travel, antiquing, genealogy, painting, and getting together with friends. Find her on her blog, website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Google+, and Pinterest. Subscribe to her newsletter here to receive a FREE novella.

Thanks to Delilah for sharing her blog with me today.

Well, it is October so discussing paranormal romance seems appropriate :-} Besides, it ties in so nicely with the lovely Venetian mask I’m giving away 😉

I write erotic romance inspired by the classics. That focus allows me to follow wherever the original story leads me. So far it has led me to contemporary cowboy romance, sci-fi romance and paranormal romance. Erotic paranormal romance is what I call my sweet spot. I don’t know about you, but I really enjoy reading paranormal because I’m never sure what kind of world I’ll discover.

Like most, I’m a fan of a good shifter or vampire romance as much as the next person. But I also like angels, ghosts, curses, special powers and anything else that might make the ordinary, extraordinary. In my own stories, I have all different types of paranormal:

In Masque, there are 73 ghosts and a hero who has been alive for over 150 years.

In Passion’s Poison, the heroine is cursed with genetic poisonous orgasms.

In Passion of Sleepy Hollow, the Sleepy Hollow village of 1790 appears in present day only one weekend a year.

And in my soon to be released Pleasures of Christmas Past, the Spirit of Christmas Past falls in love.

What type of paranormal romance is your favorite? Has there been one that was truly unique that you enjoyed? It seems a good time of year to take stock. After all, Halloween is at the end of this month 😉

That’s why I’ve made October my annual Mask Giveaway Month. I can’t leave Delilah’s blog without giving readers a chance to win one of the 7 hand decorated Venetian masks I’m giving away this month! And to celebrate this year, I have re-released Masque with a hot new cover. Here’s a short excerpt for your reading enjoyment, and don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win. Good luck!

Always, Lexi
www.lexipostbooks.com

Rena Mills plans to turn an abandoned abbey into a haunted bed-and-breakfast to prove she can be successful without her ex-fiancé. What she finds inside is Synn MacAllistair, the distinguished, self-proclaimed Ghost Keeper. Her dreams soon fill with sexual cravings for him. But are they dreams?

Synn, born in 1828, is determined to free the souls of the resident spirits, blaming himself for bringing the Red Death that killed them. When Rena steps into the old Pleasure Palace, he’s sure he can take her through the after-midnight Pleasure Rooms and stoke her passion to complete the Masque so the souls can cross over. Her innocent fire makes him crave more, but it’s far too late for him.

As Rena begins her erotic journey, her heart becomes more involved with every sensual caress until she discovers by completing the Masque she would lose her ghosts. Synn’s betrayal wars with her compassion for her ghostly friends. Torn, she must make a choice between her financial security and freeing seventy-three trapped souls. Either way, she could lose her Synn.

Masque Excerpt:

Rena spun at the deep voice that caressed her senses. Before her stood a woman’s wet dream come to life, though as a respectable woman, she shouldn’t be having wet dreams, or so she’d been informed.

The man looked as if he’d stepped out of a nineteenth-century drawing room, except his coffee-brown hair hung loose about his shoulders. She was pretty sure it should have been tied in a queue to be proper. His entire demeanor projected upper class from his sharp nose, to his angular chin outlined by a neatly trimmed beard, to his broad-shouldered stance. A rather tall stance it was too, with one snugly encased leg crossed over the other. But his eyes stupefied her. They appeared gray, ancient, yet flickered with bright shards of blue.

Valerie recovered first, brandishing her tightly held candelabra as she stepped forward. “Who are you and what are you doing in here?”

He straightened and gave them a formal bow. “My name is Synn MacAllistair. That is Synn as in S Y N N. I’m the caretaker of the ghosts.”

Rena took a deep breath. She could feel her cheeks heating as his voice reverberated through her body. Sin fit him. When he moved his gaze from Valerie to herself, his intense scrutiny warmed her. She swallowed. “Uh, I didn’t think anyone lived here.”

His stare held hers captive. “I do.”

Valerie retreated to stand next to her. “Oh really. With a padlock on the outside of the gate?”

He raised his right brow, the look of arrogance worthy of Mr. Darcy. “There is a postern gate.”

Rena racked her brain. She’d heard that word before. Oh yes. “I thought only the owners of a castle knew the secret to that rear exit.”

He raised his brows together. “That is true but I desi—discovered it while following a small boy around the Abbey.”

Valerie crossed her arms. “A small boy?”

“Yes. The children in the neighborhood dare each other to get close to the Abbey. They want to see the ghosts, who are quite harmless to humans.” He gestured to the housekeeper. “Mrs. McMurray here will become more solid as the full moon approaches and will be pleased to help you in any way she can.”

They turned and stared at their ghost, having forgotten her. The older woman nodded vigorously, her white cap covering her gray hair falling to the side. Mrs. McMurray’s plump frame included pudgy arms sprouting from a short-sleeved blouse and a white apron that protected her skirt, but from the knees down, she didn’t exist at all.

Rena’s heart pounded. A real ghost. If what Synn said was true, that the ghosts would become solid, the possibilities for her new venture were endless. Could the ghosts serve breakfast to the guests? How would she pay them? She couldn’t resist asking. “Are you the one who keeps it so clean in here?”

Mrs. McMurray blushed and nodded again. She actually blushed.

Synn clarified. “She and a dozen maids have kept this place clean for centuries in the hopes that someone would come here to live. Do you plan to stay?”

She turned to answer him, but Valerie gave him a disapproving look. “The real estate agent didn’t say anything about anyone living here.”

He sighed, clearly bored. “No, I imagine he didn’t. He is what we refer to as a lickfinger.”

Rena chuckled at the strange word. She couldn’t help it. It sounded backward.

Valerie didn’t find the expression funny. “Well, you need to know, Rena owns this castle now, abbey, whatever you want to call it, and she has the right to throw you out.”

Rena grabbed her arm. “Valerie.” She changed her warning tone to a more pleasant octave as she addressed the sexy man in front of her. “You are of course welcome to stay, Synn. Perhaps you can help us understand the ghosts, the history of the Abbey and anything else that might be helpful.” She smiled encouragingly. She didn’t want him to leave.

He gave her an arrogant nod. “I would be happy to be of service. Perhaps I should start by helping you to bring your personal items upstairs as the footmen will not be solid enough to lift anything for another week.”

Another week? How strange. She didn’t remember seeing anything on television regarding ghosts changing with the moon. “Thank you. That would be perfect.” She could tell Valerie didn’t trust him. She, on the other hand, was thrilled to have him in the Abbey. Anyone who could help her succeed was welcome. The fact that the man was incredibly hot didn’t hurt either.

He nodded once and held his arm out to her. She looked at her friend and shrugged, then looped her arm with his. The second they made contact, a sizzling sensation raced across her skin.

He didn’t move. Did he feel it too? He gazed down at her, his face serious. “Shall we?”

She nodded, her throat having closed at his look. There was something sensual about his lips. They were strong, full and serious and made her want to taste him. Sheesh, hadn’t she learned anything from her failed engagement? She needed to keep her libido under control. Men like Synn wouldn’t appreciate her scandalous thoughts. Besides, who used phrases like “shall we”?

a Rafflecopter giveaway

I’ve written two superhero adventure novels so far starring Chloe, a young woman who discovers she has previously unsuspected superpowers. Readers are fine with that part. What they don’t like is my heroine’s taste in men.

She broke up with a perfectly nice boyfriend, a computer nerd, comics geek, and good partner in goofy adventures. She threw herself into a fling with a ruthless executive type who never tells her the same thing twice, tends to go behind her back and not inform her what he’s up to, and who also is great in bed.

I’m not writing romance as such, but my readers still get all upset over Eric. The beta readers who see the stories before they’re published actually write notes to Chloe saying things like “Don’t do it! Don’t believe his lies!”

I made this guy up. He’s not real. He’s not even a superhero. But he’s hot in that Mad Men or bad billionaire way: He has power, he likes power, and he uses it for his own ends. Maybe sometimes he’s on the same side as the heroine. Maybe sometimes he’s not. Men like this DO get women to fall for them. Maybe they don’t keep them. Maybe they don’t even want to keep them. Or maybe they do, but the men themselves always come first in their calculations, not the women they’re sleeping with.

I’m tickled that I have created a man who is this true to life, but I’m a little sorry readers don’t seem to appreciate the fantasy thrill of a fictional relationship with Mr. Wrong. No harm comes to the heroine in my stories. She does get upset over Eric, but she’s a superheroine. She figures it out. Maybe that’s the underlying issue. Do readers worry that my heroine—or they themselves?—won’t be strong enough to resist the charms of a Mr. Wrong?

Temporary Superheroine is on sale at Amazon. Special discounted price October 8 through October 17. https://amzn.to/1L25FOw

Crisis at Comicon  (Temporary Superheroine Book 2) is available at a discounted pre-order price at Amazon: https://amzn.to/1FCz0id

irenevartanoff.com
facebook.com/IreneVartanoffauthor
twitter.com/irenevartanoff

EXCERPT FROM TEMPORARY SUPERHEROINE:

“Chloe.” Eric determinedly came close to me so our breaths began to mingle. He eyed me with warmth and put a large hand on my shoulder, leaning in as if to kiss my cheek in greeting. I shrugged off both. I hadn’t forgotten he had snubbed me this morning. A lifetime ago.

“Chloe,” he repeated insistently, and leaned down and kissed my lips lightly, before I could fend him off again.

At the touch of his lips, secret parts of me started to melt. I feared they weren’t secret from him. I steeled myself and stated my mission. “I came for my amulet, which you stole.”

“I knew you would.” Eric smiled his predatory smile.

Ignoring his effect on me wasn’t working. I melted even more.

“I even told Bodacious Barb to make sure to tell you I had it,” he said.

“Why?” I was mystified. Eric was always a step or two ahead of me. In addition to all his worldly advantages, he simply was an ace manipulator.

“To bring you back to me,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for my cold shoulder this morning.”

“When you dropped me like a used tissue.” Since he’d given me the opening to talk about his behavior, I didn’t see any reason to sugarcoat it.

He had the grace to wince. “Is that how I came off? Sorry. I recognized the amulet last night while we were—ah…” He paused, obviously seeking a polite way of saying we were having sex.

“While our clothes were off,” I said flatly. “Continue.”

His expression was charmingly rueful. “I wanted to. So I didn’t question you about the amulet then. You wore me out, girl, then disappeared too fast.” He gave me a frank look. “I always thought women liked to cuddle afterwards, but when I woke, you were gone.”

My face had turned hot as he reminded me of the details of our time in his bedroom. Which had been too wonderful and had scared the hell out of me. Could my vanishing act have bothered him? My experience with men told me he was giving me a line of bull. When they’re done, they want you gone. At least the guys like Eric who can have any woman, because they are physically attractive and have money and power. He radiated virility. He could regularly sample a variety of women. I didn’t flatter myself that he cared about me.

“So?” I asked, refusing to soften at his confession. I wanted to hold onto my anger at him. Then he wouldn’t be able to play me. Again.

“This morning, I didn’t know what to think, and I backed off.”

“Oh, cut the crap, Eric.” I glared at him.

BIO:

Award-winning author Irene Vartanoff has combined her love of romances and comic books by working for Marvel Comics and DC Comics as well as Harlequin, Bantam, Berkley, and My RomanceStory.com. Her first superhero adventure novel, Temporary Superheroine, was quickly followed by her first sweet contemporary romance novel, Captive of the Cattle Baron. Irene is also the author of several romance graphic romance novellas including Breaking All the Rules and The Egyptian’s Texas Spitfire. Under her comic book nom de plume, Poison Ivy, she contributes to the MyRomanceStory.com blog.

Thanks!
Irene Vartanoff
Writer & Editor
irene@irenevartanoff.com

Romance authors love to write about falling in love. The rush of newness, the promise of passion and happily ever after, and the exhilarating but sometimes frustrating “getting to know each other” phase are aspects most romance readers love to hear about. Today, I don’t want to talk about any of those. I want to talk about how people in love…stay in love.

It’s hard to keep the romance alive in our busy worlds. We have obligations to work, kids, friends, and our community. What we often forget is we also have a responsibility to the person we love. This is especially important when the world seems out to get us. No matter how good our life is, bad stuff happens. We can’t stop it all. We deal with it, right? It’s how we face our challenges that sometimes gets us in trouble with our partners, but those with a solid base built on love have the best chance of surviving. Yeah, basic. Sometimes that’s easier said than done.

Arawn and Minerva, the characters in Hunter Sacrificed, face those same struggles, only on a more divine and far-reaching level. Their love is challenged, and the Wild Hunt series is their story. It begins and ends with their epic tale of love, betrayal, forgiveness and hope. (And you get to step into their journey for free! Read on for the links.)

For the rest of us, our relationship hardships can be lessened if we take the time to keep love alive. It doesn’t need to be a huge undertaking every day. Little things matter. Here’s my list of the top three ways my husband and I remind each other that we’re in life together:

1. Taking a few minutes every day to talk about something outside of the three big ones: work, family and money. For the hubby and I, this can be anything from science (yes, we’re both geeks) to the newest action movie.
2. Silly, random texts. We might not be able to respond, but it’s nice to pick up our phones and see each other’s profile pic.
3. Holding each other. Hugs are good for the soul.

So what do you do to express your love? I’d love to hear about your special ways!

Hunter Sacrificed, Wild Hunt book 0.5 Blurb

His vow to save mankind turns him into the father of the damned.

Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, is faced with the hardest decision of his long life. Because of his neglect, humans are suffering…but his vow to make things right could cost him everything he holds dear.

Minerva, the Goddess of Love, holds his heart and soul, but the act he must now commit might very well destroy their love.

His sacrifice doesn’t go far enough to end the humans’ agony. It compounds it—and turns him into a pawn. He cannot renege on his deal with the Triad, but he can avenge those he’s wronged.

To do that, he’ll need every one of his Huntsmen to win the greatest game of all time—the Wild Hunt.

Warning: Goodness and light vs. sacrifice and darkness. Seriously, what could possibly go wrong?

Excerpt #1

Hands clenched at his sides to stop himself from pulling her into his embrace, he motioned toward her with a jerk of his chin. “Turn. I want to see all of you.”

The order he’d given to her all those years ago brought back the memory of their first time together. He embraced the recollection, allowing it to guide him into what might be their final night together.

She raised a brow.

He growled. “If you have not realized where you are, this is Hell. I rule here, and my commands are to be obeyed immediately. Now, turn.”

With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she dropped her gaze and complied with his demand, slowly spinning on her heel. The ends of her silver hair swayed. A tinkling sound accompanied the move, and the flickering lights from the candles illuminating the room reflected on the strands, making her appear as if she carried her own inner light. The sight entranced him. He allowed the spell she wove to mesmerize him for another moment before shifting his focused stare to her rounded bottom. The ends of her hair caressed her ass cheeks. Soft yet firm, she was made for loving.

Made for me.

She wasn’t. He knew that. It didn’t stop the wonder he experienced in her presence from seizing him.

He closed the distance between them but didn’t touch her. He curled his hands until his nails dug into his palm. Head bent, he buried his nose in the fall of her hair. A deep inhale satisfied his craving for her scent. She smelled of life and goodness.

Everything I am not.

Mouth at her ear, he whispered, “You tempt me, goddess.”

“How? I have not spoken.” She repeated the response she’d given him all those years ago.

Pleased she picked up on his prompting, he captured her earlobe between his teeth and nibbled on her tender flesh until her air escaped on a slow exhale, and her body relaxed against his.

He released her lobe, then pressed his lips to her neck. “You stand before me naked and aroused.”

“You too are naked and aroused, my dark lord. The fact that I am should please you.”

“It does not.”

She turned her head, and her glowing gray eyes filled his vision. “And why not?”

He ran his hand over her hair. His fingers itched with the desire to wrap her shimmering locks around his palm. He dropped his arm.

“You make me want things I shouldn’t.”

Excerpt #2

“Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, it is about time you came.”

The Triad’s voice surrounded Arawn. He cracked his eyelids, but only the endless expanse of white clouds greeted him. “You’ve been expecting me?”

Why he asked, he didn’t know. The answer seemed important, however. Doubt had hovered in his mind ever since Minerva had first appeared to him. Learning about her deal with Lucifer had compounded it. Arawn couldn’t help but feel…played.

“Not played. Led.” The Triad responded to his unspoken thought, proving it could easily read Arawn’s mind.

The deity’s intrusion didn’t anger him. Its words did. Arawn remembered the games among the other gods in the early days of the world. He’d hated it. The isolation of the Underworld had been part of the reason he’d accepted the role he’d been offered. The segregation from the heavens hadn’t offered him peace, however.

He’d entered his eternal hell.

And Minerva saved me from it.

Arawn ground his jaw. “Manipulated, you mean.”

“No. You cannot be controlled. Even the gods have free will.”

“But you can take all my choices away save one, can’t you?”

Silence answered him.

“Well?” He knew better than to argue with the Triad. The tortured look in Minerva’s eyes pushed him to demand the truth.

“You always have two choices, Arawn god of Hell.”

Of course I do. He worked his jaw back and forth. “The right one and the wrong one.”

“Exactly. Which have you chosen?”

GET THE BOOK FOR ***FREE*** AT:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/1KlRZvK
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/hunter-sacrificed/id1021881938
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-huntersacrificed-1867244-340.html

Connect with Nancy…
Website
Newsletter
Pinterest
Facebook Friend
Facebook Page
Amazon Page
Email
Blog
Google
Tumblr
Twitter

A little about Nancy…

A true romantic at heart, Nancy Corrigan is convinced there’s a knight in shining armor for every woman (or man), but you won’t find damsels in distress in her stories. She adores pairing alpha heroes with women strong enough to match them and bring them to their knees. She also enjoys flipping the traditional roles in romances because her motto is—love and people should never be forced to conform to anyone’s norm.

She holds a degree in chemistry and has worked in research but now focuses on ensuring quality. She considers it the perfect outlet for her as she’s the first to admit she has some OCD tendencies. It carries over into her writing life too. While engrossed in a novel, she has a habit of forgetting to eat and sleep. Fortunately, she’s married to her own knight in shining armor who understands her oddities and loves her anyway. They reside in Pennsylvania with their three children, dog, snake and guinea pigs. Her other interests include tattoos, animals, classic cars and all things spooky and sexy.

I had a reader ask recently who (or what) is my muse?

Let’s start by defining a muse. Per Merriam-Webster.com, a muse (noun) is a source of inspiration; especially: a guiding genius.  When capitalized, Muse is also one of the nine sister goddesses in Greek mythology presiding over song and poetry, and the arts and sciences.

The concept of a muse has always struck me as somewhat bewildering and a bit far-fetched. Poets and sculptors have muses. Authors, however, draw their stimulus from everyone and everything around them. From that sour-faced lady in line at the grocery store to a funny meme posted on Facebook. Inspiration is in the eye of the beholder.

Even so, I’ve always harbored the fantasy of having a muse because it would be a fun thing to be able to claim.  A few years ago, a lovely gray cat ambushed me during a walk and followed me home.  After unsuccessful attempts to find her owner, we decided to keep her.  I wanted to call her Muse, or maybe Mews, but Mr. Snark vetoed it.

Go away! You’re bothering me!

Luckily, I was able to find a work around.  We named the kitty Clio instead. Mr. Snark thinks she’s named after Pinocchio’s cat, Cleo, but she’s really named for the Greek Muse of history. She’s really not all that inspirational so far as story ideas go. In fact, she’s a little on the grumpy side, but she’s soft and plush.  Made for petting, and we love her.

What about you? Do you have a muse? Leave me a comment below!

99 cents on Pre-Order

☆♡☆♡☆AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER ONLY 99¢☆♡☆♡☆

Edge of Never: A Unique Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy Boxed Set Release date Oct 12th
New York Times, USA Today, and Other Bestselling Authors
Join us at the Edge of Never

Obliterate the lines between fantasy and reality with nine spine-tingling tales from your favorite bestselling and award-winning authors. Dragons, gods—fallen and otherwise—ghosts, vampires. A touch of steampunk. More than a splash of romance. From magical lands to a chilling glance into post World War II Europe, Edge of Never has something to tempt everyone.

Caridad Pineiro: Undead Uprising: A Wolf Alone – Will she lead her pack in a war against the vampires or will she sacrifice everything for the human she loves?

Rosemary Edghill: Lizzie Fair and the Dragon of Heart’s Desire – Visiting the World of Iron is never a good idea. Ask any Morning Lord.

Kristine Kathryn Rusch: Show Trial -A beautiful woman, a terrible time, and faerie justice…served cold.

Brenda Carre: Finnraziel – She raised a god to life and thwarted the Queen of Demons, can she prevent a war without destroying the man she loves and the last two dragons she’s sworn to guard?

Ann Gimpel: Highland Secrets – Tumble off reality’s edge into myth, magic, Scottish dragon shifters, and forbidden romance.

Pauline Baird Jones: Specters in the Storm – A just-the-facts professor needs to trust a time bending lady detective—and believe the wildly impossible–to defeat a deadly evil threatening everything they hold dear.

Julia Mills: Her Dragon’s Soul – Exorcise the demon possessing your mate. Capture the maniacal wizard. Save dragon kin…again. Even the strength of the Universe may not be enough. Only time will tell. Fate Will Not Be Denied!

Susan Scott: Dragons Will Fall – To defeat a dragon is impossible. To love a dragon—deadly!

Melissa Snark: Hunger Moon – Wolf shifters, hunters, and a Norse winter witch—How will Valkyrie Victoria Storm ever find her true love…before someone kills her?

Amazon US: https://goo.gl/TT92Ef
Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/AyvtzK
B&N: https://goo.gl/uIJoIy
Kobo: https://goo.gl/eKnBsJ
iBooks: https://goo.gl/KvkVok
Google Play: https://goo.gl/pp1Zgm

Author Bio

Melissa Snark lives in the San Francisco bay area with her husband, three children, and a glaring of mischievous felines. She reads and writes fantasy and romance, and is published with The Wild Rose Press & Nordic Lights Press. She is a coffeeoholic, chocoholic, and a serious geek girl. Her Loki’s Wolves series stems from her fascination with wolves and mythology.

Subscribe to Melissa Snark’s newsletter for new releases, prizes, and lots of fun. You’ll get a free ebook just for signing up!  URL:   https://www.melissasnark.com/free-book-sign-up/

She blogs about books and writing: https://www.thesnarkology.com/

• Visit her website: https://www.melissasnark.com/
• Follow her on Twitter: https://twitter.com/MelissaSnark
• Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0076EEQIU
• Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/MelissaSnark
• Email: MelissaSnark at gmail.com

Many people like to decorate their yards for Christmas.  You can drive through the streets of any neighborhood and see houses with twinkle lights, colored lights, icicle lights, and many variations on that theme.  Some houses have nativity displays, or snowmen, even Santa and his reindeer complete with sleigh.  My family is a bit different; we like to decorate for Halloween.

The first weekend in October my front yard magically transforms from a green space with grass, pine trees and bushes into a creepy old graveyard.  My husband and I try to add something new to the display every year. It’s fun to check out the Halloween supply stores and catalogs to try to find another item that will enhance the experience for our neighbors.

This year I thought I had found the perfect item.  My husband is into blacksmithing and knife making which means we go to a lot of auctions looking for tools he can use in his hobby.  At one auction I found a horse drawn hearse from the 1800’s.  It was absolutely beautiful.  Someone had gone to great lengths to restore it to its original condition.  The glass windows that surround it were all replaced.  New red satin material lined the floor and the entire exterior had been repainted black.  I thought it was the perfect addition to our Halloween theme.  However, my husband balked at the idea of paying five thousand dollars for a seasonal lawn ornament. Now it’s a running joke between us.  Every time he goes to another auction I tell him to bring me back a hearse.  I’m trying to persuade him to build one.  He doesn’t know it yet but he’s getting some new wood working tools for Christmas.

I hope everyone enjoys this Halloween season.  What does your family like to do for Halloween?

Augustina Van Hoven
Proving Love is Strange
THE KISS OF A ROSE – Now available
www.augustinavanhoven.com
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Augustina-Van-Hoven-Author/336028986575129
Twitter:  @augustinavhoven

A DISTANT PAST

In 1882, Rose Van Buren loved the wrong man and paid for it with her life. Now, more than a century later, the angel Gabriel has granted her another shot at living. In exchange, she must convince a smart, handsome, up-and-coming lawyer to set aside his lofty ambitions.

A FUTURE PRESENT

Stephen Winship is headed straight for the governor’s chair. He has a brilliant career, solid allies, and a seemingly perfect girlfriend. But night after night he finds himself dreaming of a heavenly beauty, a luminous but long-dead girl. Like some altered Ghost of Christmas Past, she shows him her own tragic tale in order to “save him.” And he’s beginning to see Rose is risking her heart as much as baring her soul. Yet falling for her will cost him everything—and open him up to a happiness he never imagined.

The second book in the series, THE THORN OF A ROSE, coming in December.

Wolves of Willow Bend
Single Wicked Wolf
Releasing October 1, 2015

Releasing at ARe exclusively on October 1st, you’ll also be able to find this gem on other etailers sometime after the 10th. In the meanwhile. Would you like a sneak peek at Giovanni and Murphy’s first meeting?

He’s single, wicked, and a perfect pretend boyfriend…but exactly who is she fooling?

A Wolves of Willow Bend Novella

Murphy DeWitt enjoyed two years touring American consulates in Europe as an assistant to a diplomatic attaché. It was a dream come true, and a hell of a learning experience. A master of languages, she knows how to get her point across. Romance, however, proves to be a tongue twister. Now en route to Willow Bend for a friend’s wedding—without the make-believe boyfriend she created for her family—she debates how to confess her deception. Luckily, her flight includes a fantastically hot wolf that leaves her breathless and contemplating all kinds of naughty things.

Giovanni Conti thrives on protecting others. As a Centurion for the Seven Hills pack in Italy, it’s his pleasure to serve his Alpha wherever he is needed. Dispatched ahead in preparation for the Alpha pair’s trip to Willow Bend, he has no problem entertaining the sexy wolf he encounters in the airport. The last thing the playboy wolf expects, however, is to find in Murphy the most captivating chase of his life…

Single Wicked Wolf
Release Date: October 1, 2015 on ARe, October 10^th or later on other retailers
All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-singlewickedwolf-1893620-168.html 

Series Reading Order:

Wolf at Law (Prequel)
Book 1: Wolf Bite
Book 2: Caged Wolf
Book 3: Wolf Claim
Book 3.5: Wolf Next Door
Book 4: Rogue Wolf
Book 5: Bayou Wolf
Book 6: Untamed Wolf
Book 6.5: Wolf with Benefits (Romancing the Wolf Anthology)
Book 7: River Wolf
Book 7.5 : Single Wicked Wolf

About the Author:

Heather Long

National bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas summertime. From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories—her characters drive the books. When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family. She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.

Contact Details:

Website: https://www.heatherlong.net
Email: heather@heatherlong.net
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/HeatherLongAuthor
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/HVLong

Excerpt of Single Wicked Wolf by Heather Long:

Seven Hills Centurion, Giovanni Conti balanced the she-wolf with care and no small amount of interest. Though Salvatore declared the airport neutral territory for travelers, Giovanni caught her scent the moment he cleared security. With time to spare before his flight, he entertained himself by tracking her. As long as she remained within the airport, no one from Seven Hills would accost her.

She moved like a wolf on the hunt, striding with purpose cutting in and out of people, avoiding them with a smooth expertise he admired. When she ducked into the shop for a sandwich and a beverage, he’d grimaced. The call with her mother said she wasn’t planning to leave the airport. He didn’t have to keep following. Still, the length of her silky brown hair, honey bronzed skin and pale, pale hazel eyes captivated his imagination.

Inserting himself into her path to answer his curiosity, he hadn’t expected her to slam into him. More concerned she’d bruised herself, he caught her before she stumbled. The low-heeled pumps she wore were sensible for a meeting, not for striding through an airport. Shock with ripples of wariness and more than a dab of desire filled his nostrils.

Oh, she likes what she sees. Pleasure speared him. Women were so delightful. They came in all shapes and sizes. Some were confident, some were shy. They used laughter and jokes to set those around them at ease or they relied on their keen intelligence to snare interested males. He loved them all.

“Buon pomeriggio.” He gave her a moment to be certain of her balance before releasing her. “And my apologies for blocking your path.”

“Buon pomeriggio,” her swift reply in his native tongue tickled him. “Please, accept my apologies for colliding with you. I’m usually better about maintaining my personal space.” Though her tone was light, tension wound through her voice and she didn’t attempt to hold his gaze.

Relaxing his stance, he adopted an air of soothing. Most wolves within Seven Hills were less dominant than he and the other Centurions. Serving Salvatore, the Alpha of Seven Hills, and by extension his mate, was a privilege he and his brother wolves enjoyed. From gentle reminders to rebellious wolves to take downs of wolves gone wild to acting as spymasters and information gatherers, no task was too great or too small for him.

“Mi perdoni, cara,” he used the endearment to encourage familiarity, then resumed the courtesy of her language. “I stepped into your path to say hello. So it was my fault, not yours.”

“Thank you,” she surprised him by not making her own excuse or defusing his apology. So many of the Americans he met, wolf or otherwise, turned out to be apologists. She shifted her carry on bag and not so surreptitiously glanced at her watch.

“May I escort you to your gate? Or perhaps to a café? We have one or two.” All of which served better food than the sandwich she’d purchased.

“Lovely offer.” She recovered enough to smile as she spoke, but she adjusted her grip on her bag nonetheless. “I don’t want to miss my flight or overstay my welcome. Turning into Edward Snowden isn’t my idea of a good time.”

Though familiar with the name, he didn’t catch the reference. At his frown, she laughed and it chased some of the nervousness from her voice.

“The being stuck in Russia with no passport part, not the leaking state secrets part.” The explanation helped, but he didn’t see her in the same vulnerable position. Nothing in her scent said deceit. Her smile faded. “Diplomatic humor, sorry. It was nice to meet you.”

When she withdrew a step as though to circle him, he pivoted and fell into step with her. “You haven’t actually met me, cara.”

“I’m batting a thousand today,” she groaned, then juggled her items to offer her hand. “Murphy DeWitt.”

Accepting her hand, he lifted it to his lips. Grazing her knuckles with a kiss, he inhaled deeply of her scent. Eucalyptus and mint layered beneath soft pear and sage, offered him a deep breath of a bright, clean exotic morning. Savoring the tingling taste on his tongue, he enjoyed the catch in her breath and the leap of her pulse. All of the above were far preferable to her discomfort and wariness.

“Ciao, cara, I am Giovanni Conti,” he pitched his voice low, trusting her hearing even amidst all the background chaos of the airport terminal. “Centurion of Seven Hills.”