UPDATE: The winners are…Colleen C and ButtonsMom2003!
*~*~*

Happy Halloween!

Today I come with news of a Halloween book sale!

Have you been on the hunt this month for fantasy, PNR or Halloween themed books? Look no further.

12 authors have come together to bring you a selection of books for just .99 cents each!

You can see the full list at my website. It includes 10 stories, an anthology, and a box set. Authors involved in this sale include: Dena Garson, Pepper McGraw, Kali Willows, Angela M Hudson, Aisling Elizabeth, A.R. McDermott, Dani M. Ward, Tanja Longoria, Amanda V Shane, and Cameron Allie.

Check out the ebook sale here!

Contest

For now, I’ll leave you with an excerpt from my own addition to the sale, as well as a contest. For a chance to win an eBook copy of both The Siren and the Water Witch, and The Siren and the Hellhound, comment on this post and tell us about your favorite Halloween costume. (Note: The Siren and the Hellhound won’t be gifted to the winner until it releases in mid-November).

Love Spells, Full Moons, and Silver Bullets

Excerpt…

Ian raced off as fast as he could, but she was faster. Of course, she was faster; she was a fucking vampire.

When she blocked off his retreat, he turned and started in another direction. Her laughter followed him. Like a cat with a mouse, she toyed with him. Mocking him, taunting him, and foiling each escape. He was under no false assumptions. She was playing with him.

“Little human, come with me,” she whispered. “I’d love to take you home for dinner.”

This time, when she spoke, no haze encircled him, just fear and dread. Her laugh was cut short when a wolf howled in the distance. Seeming on alert, her posture changed, and she lunged for him, all her teasing gone. He braced himself for her attack, sheltering his face as best he could, but her weight never hit him.

Mid-jump, something tackled her to the ground.

A beast, something definitely from a horror flick, rose up over her. It stood at least seven feet tall on its hind legs. Brown fur covered most of its body. It had a wide chest and wolf-like features but walked on two feet. Saliva fell from its mouth, dangling from its teeth like some rabid dog. Its attention turned to him but flickered back to the woman when she attacked it, kicking at its legs before launching nails-first toward the creature’s throat.

Movement behind him caused Ian to turn. More wolf-like creatures were barreling toward them, snapping tree limbs and leaving claw marks in the earth.

Abandoning the skirmish, Ian ran once more.

At one point, he’d been in fine shape, his body toned, his cardio excellent, but in the last year, he’d let physical exercise lapse, and now he felt the repercussions. His lungs burned, his legs ached. He wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace for long. He needed to find help or shelter. Somewhere to hide.

He didn’t bother to look back when he heard something, or more correctly, somethings, from the sound of it, in pursuit of him. He simply pushed on. Nightmare or not, it was his only chance. Praying he’d wake up, he tried running in a zig-zag pattern, but something threw him to the ground, and a second later, pain sliced across his back. Harsh, unforgiving, and deep, claws sunk into his skin.

He screamed in anguish, tears rushing to his eyes. Not a dream. So not a dream.

He was done for. This was the end.

Unexpectedly, the weight above him was removed. Ian pushed up a bit and watched as the vampire woman from before fought against the brown wolf creature.

Pushing to his knees, Ian felt blood dripping down his back. His shirt hung off his body, shredded by the wolf-man’s claws.

He staggered a bit, trying to get to his feet. That’s when he felt hot breath against his cheek. Twisting his head, he came face to face with another wolf-man. This one seemed bigger, its eyes black as night, as it stared at him, spittle hanging from its jowls.

Ian swallowed.

The creature opened its mouth and released a horrific roar.

Spit hit Ian’s face. The power behind that fierce sound moved Ian’s entire body, pushing him backward, like a fat pig blown from its straw house by the big bad wolf.

The creature stalked toward him, and once more, Ian’s legs propelled him forward. A few hundred yards, and he dove behind a pile of brush. He cowered there, knowing it was only a matter of time before they nabbed him.

With one hand, he reached back to assess the damage. The wound was deep. Three, maybe even four slashes across his skin. He’d need stitches or staples, and if he didn’t get help soon, likely a blood transfusion.

A low growl drew his attention. He peeked around the pile of twigs and leaves and spotted the two wolves pacing along what seemed to be an invisible line on the ground. Standing against a tree trunk further back was a woman.

“Why aren’t they attacking?” He wondered out loud as he used his sleeve to wipe sweat from his brow.

“Because they aren’t allowed to hunt on my territory.”

Ian’s gaze swung to the newest voice. This new being was just as shocking as the rest, with a purple and black dress that draped from her body, cut high in the front, revealing shapely thighs covered in torn stockings. Brown hair hung in ringlets around her shoulders, tumbling out from beneath a wide-brimmed pointed black hat. One hand was propped on her hip, and the other was wrapped around a corn broom handle. A heavy metal talisman hung around her neck. The green hue of her skin made her look as though she’d walked off the pages of a comic book and left absolutely zero question as to what she was.

A witch. Now there’s was a witch.

The vampire had been breathtaking, in a drugging sort of way, but this woman was stunning. Her beauty was raw and real. Or maybe that was just his loopy brain trying to make sense of this crazy world he’d stumbled into.

“Your territory?”

“Yes.” Her gaze dropped to him, and her mouth turned upward in a kind smile. “This is my land, and you are safe here.”

“You can’t keep him there forever, Quinn,” a deep voice spoke from behind the pile of forest rubble.

Ian took another look around the brush. Two men, both naked, one with raven hair and the other with sandy brown, paced that invisible line. “He won’t be leaving tonight, Draven. Go home.”

A snarl came from the brown-haired man. “I’ve tasted his blood, his flesh. Give him to me.”

The vampire, presently fixing her wild hair, sighed. “I’m going to find a new quarry. Enjoy your mortal, Quinn. You know where to find me if you want rid of him.”

Ian watched the exchange with interest. In fact, he was quite invested, as it seemed his life was being negotiated.

Faster than he could see, the vampire disappeared between the trees, but the men remained.

“I want him, Quinn. Give him back.”

“You’re wasting your breath, Draven. Leave now, or I will turn away all business that comes from your pack.”

Draven, the man who had taken a pound of flesh from Ian’s back, growled. “This isn’t over.” Then as Ian watched, he transformed back into a wolf creature and fled, leaving the raven-haired man behind.

He exhaled rather loudly. “I hope you aren’t making a mistake, Quinn.”

Ian glanced to the witch, whose eyes narrowed. “Think carefully about what side you’re on, Alec, and about what your conscience can live with.”

“The pack comes first. Always.”

“And you don’t ever let me forget it,” the witch—Quinn—said.

The raven-haired man looked as though he wanted to say more, but he merely shook his head, turned, and shifted into wolf form before following in the direction Draven had taken.

Blinking, Ian tried to make sense of any part of what had happened. One minute he was fighting with Priscilla, and now he was face-to-face with a witch.

He glanced up at her, wondering if he should start running again, but when he tried to move, his body gave up, collapsing in pain.

The broom dropped to the ground as Quinn came closer, tsking softly. “And just what sort of mess have you gotten yourself into?”

Get your copy today for just .99 cents!

UPDATE: The winners are…Jen Todd and Katherine Anderson!
*~*~*

In a realm where deadly creatures lurk, there’s a town that functions as a haven for all species. Magic enchantments cast by the witch’s council protect its borders, and hellhounds police the streets.

Mortals can co-exist and even breed with vampires, demons, werewolves and witches. You can stop by The Gilded Scroll and chat with the elvish bookshop owner, or visit Tina’s Treats for the realm’s tastiest desserts, or even pick up a love potion at The Broomstick.

But be wary of the magical fountain in the center of town.

Severn the siren lives there with her many daughters. Legend has it she seduced a witch while out at sea and convinced him to build her a home in the heart of Clayridge. Fed up with the dangers in the wild, she tricked him into creating a fountain in the safest place in the realm.

Large gates warn you not to enter. Pity, since its beauty shouldn’t be missed.

Cobblestones surround it, and a gorgeous carved stone balustrade encircles it. Inside, its waters are deep. Aside from the sirens, no aquatic creature exists there. Their home consists of glass, gold, and rock. Above the water, it looks a bit like a mountain, with some sandy surfaces and rock faces for the sirens to sunbathe on. But like an iceberg, the bulk of it sits, suspended below the surface.

Hive-like, their rooms face outward, providing them with lovely views of clear blue water, and deep within the fountain are the common rooms. Places where they gather when the weather is poor, or to eat or shop.

Vendors from across Clayridge travel to the fountain to exploit the sirens’ controversial wealth. Market days are very busy in the fountain, as sirens like expensive material items and fancy new electronic devices. They’re driven by base pleasures, and if they have the coin, why shouldn’t they indulge?

You can spend a night with one of these seductresses if you have enough money or attend one of their parties. Or attend a party held in their home, though beware, you’re likely to bump into a vampire or demon. Riffraff are commonplace in the fountain, and gossip is nearly currency.

If you’re willing to take a risk and have little to lose, a trip to the fountain is a perfect stress reliever, as Ezra is about to discover. Too bad he has more to lose than he realizes…

*~*~*

Dear reader,

I have two new releases this fall. The Siren and the Water Witch releases today (YAY!), and Drew releases on October 1. The former is a fantasy short story that is part of the Clayridge Chronicles ongoing series, and the latter is a paranormal romance wolf shifter novella.

Below are the blurbs for each story. Comment and tell me which of the two stories you are more interested in reading, and I’ll select two winners and provide them with an ebook copy of their preferred story.

 The Siren and the Water Witch

Ezra is about to discover just how much one night of pleasure is really worth.

Star athlete and academic wizkid, Ezra Graves, is acing his classes at the Barrett Academy, all except botany. After scoring a passing grade on the midterm, Ezra considers ways to celebrate, and nothing sounds more appealing than a trip to the Clayridge fountain to indulge in the forbidden with a siren.

Ezra doesn’t need to vie hard for female attention as the Academy’s golden pupil, but he’s dying to shed his good boy image and taste the forbidden. Visiting the fountain could damage his reputation and academic career—even get him kicked out of the Academy. More could be at stake, as he receives a gentle reminder that half-blood witches have been disappearing lately. Being away from the protection of the school grounds—particularly at night—could prove deadly.

Armed with enough gold coins to pay for a night with one of the fishy seductresses, Ezra ignores his better judgment and heads for the fountain. But little does he know something dangerous is lurking in the shadows, with Ezra’s name and the promise of a significant paycheck if the witch can be caught and delivered to the notorious vampire, Nixon Castor.

Order your copy today!
Read the excerpt here: https://www.cameronallie.com/siren-water-witch/

Drew

Her scent changed everything.

Alyssa Mayer’s scent is intriguing. It’s sweet, sensual and ignites Drew’s blood like nothing before. His body burns for her, his mind is occupied with thoughts of her, meaning only one thing. She’s his fated mate.

The problem? He doesn’t recognize her from a local pack, nor any pack he’s ever smelled before. Is she human? She is his fated mate, but if she’s human will he dare to break the species barrier? It wouldn’t be the first time a wolf shifter mated with a human, but such a bonding brings its own mess of troubles, and that’s before considering a neighbouring alpha wants Drew to agree to an arranged mating.

After spending her youth drifting from one foster home to the next and spending her adolescent and adult life homeless and alone, Alyssa wonders how long she’ll be able to stay in the small town. She can’t risk anyone discovering her secret. All she wants to do is paint and find a forever home, but as an oddity, a freak of nature, she knows that can never be, no matter how much she’d like to stay.

When she meets Drew, her instinct tells her to run, but for the first time she might just have a reason to stay, despite pack pressures and hidden foes are threaten to keep them apart.

Read the excerpt here: https://www.cameronallie.com/pack-trouble-series/

“Animal parenting is an unconditional commitment to an imperfect being.”
  Ane Ryan Walker

Before the quarantine began, my DH and I decided our RV adventures were over. We had traveled, volunteered, saw all the sights on our “bucket list” save one, and opted to retire permanently to the country.

If you followed my blog, you know I’m a dog person. I believe there is an inordinate amount of love and gratitude to be had from a rescue dog.

It was time to search for my new canine companion, a furry friend who would keep me company on lonely days and fill my retirement years with cute anecdotes with which I could amuse my friends. Despite the quarantine, dogs were still available for adoption. There is never a shortage of pups looking for their forever home.

Anyone who has ever rescued an animal will be the first to say there is no greater love than that of the animal on their way to the pound when you take ’em home forever.

I searched for months, pouring over the available canines within 100 miles of my house. Finally, after years of travel, I found myself with a generous piece of property, with a huge fenced in yard where a new puppy could play and still be safe.

Haunting the rescue sites, I determined the dog for me was older than 6 months but less than 2 years, who might still be trainable and who had a real shot at bonding with me and my DH. I set the criteria for my search based on Jake, my all-time favorite rescue.

Jake was just, well…unique.  He’d been abandoned in a very cruel fashion by his original owner who’d had a locator chip implanted, because he thought the dog was valuable.  But when Jake showed he had a mind of his own, the guy dropped the dog off in the sticks.  When the rescue people took him in, Jake was in sad shape. Bony, hostile, and aggressive, he fought with everyone about everything. Showing each and every handler he still had a mind of his own.

Handsome and charming, Jake was adopted on five separate occasions, only to be brought back to the temporary family each time.  Jake was touted to all potential rescuers as a lab and shepherd mix. But, in reality, he was the dog nobody wanted.

Except for me.

I did everything I could think of (and afford) to help Jake acclimate to our home,  We bought him the top-of-the-line dog bed cushion, specifically designed for large breed dogs to ease arthritic pains.

He ate two of them.

“He just won’t listen to me,” my DH complained.  “I like to take him for a walk, and he tries to eat people.”

“Who does he try to eat?”  I was, of course, concerned since there were a lot of young children in our neighborhood,

“Everybody.”

“Everybody?” I was a little bit skeptical since I also walked Jake once a day, and what he lacked in obedience he made up for in enthusiasm.

“Well, not everybody, but he’d eat the pizza delivery guy if I let him.”  My DH was attempting to leave the room, a clear sign he didn’t want to discuss the matter.

“Honey…” He never let me finish.

“He doesn’t want to eat the guy from the Chinese food place, but have you noticed we aren’t getting much mail.”

I was happy with less mail… Fewer bills was my thought.

These behaviors are most likely the reason we got four serious calls from the rescue agency, asking if we were keeping Jake. I found these phone calls more than a little disturbing, but I assumed it was because Jake had a mind of his own.

So, I sent Jake to board for six weeks with a world-renowned dog trainer. And, no I cannot tell you who it is. I promised never to share his name or shame with anyone.

You can see his picture on my blog page and trust me, the pic doesn’t do him justice.  He is, in short, a very handsome devil.  Also, he’s a Devil Dog.  With a mind of his own.

I thought once he’d been with us for over two years that we’d established a truce of sorts.  Or that at least there were some ground rules I could count on.  He sat when I told him, stayed when given the command, and didn’t try to get in my lap anymore; I mean, who wants an 85 lb. dog in their lap?

But he would occasionally show me how he’d endured on the streets and kept his dignity by drinking whatever I liked to drink when I got home from work. Usually, it’s ice water.

Typically, I don’t drink alcohol, but sometimes, you just need one stiff drink to bring you down from a super stressful day.  What’s better than adult beverages?

Nothing.

I had to believe Jake would second that opinion. Once, I’d walked away from the drink, and minutes later, I heard a strange noise coming from the other room.  A mysterious slurping sound.  I ran back to the living room, and there Jake is, drinking my bourbon and diet coke.  Now, I am a seriously unhappy camper.

“Get down!” I yelled, while he raised his head and smiled a little doggy smile.

He did not get down.

“Bad dog!”  I yelled.  He looked behind him to see who I was yelling at, and then he finished the drink, poised the glass on his nose, and jumped on the ottoman.

Now about two months before, we’d installed laminate floors in the main living areas of our house.  Do you know what happens when an 85 Lb. dog jumps on an ottoman on a slick surface?  Oh yes, they both slid thirty feet into the next room.

Sadly, the next room was a dining room with a glass on glass pedestal table capable of seating twelve.

And then, Jake decided he liked the new game.  So, he jumped down and slid—just the dog, wearing a tallboy cut crystal glass on his snout this time—nails scratching the floor, around the all-glass dining room table.  Then he let me chase him back into the living room where he mounted an assault on the ottoman once more.

I’d foolishly pushed it back into place while chasing the dog. When he finished sliding into the next room, he jumped up on the couch and began attacking the cushions.  He dropped the glass and grabbed a cushion and started shaking his head back and forth.  When he finally released it, it sailed over the couch, hitting me in the head.

Then he crouched down, challenging me to play.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in the mood.

I’d still had a tough day at work, and now, I was one cocktail short.

But he was a great dog, and I’m a soft touch, so I’d almost forgiven him when he started…well, there’s no way to say it politely…farting.  Which smelled like bourbon.  Now, before you get your shorts in a wad and scream animal cruelty, let me ask you something.

How would you have gotten a cocktail from an 85 lb. street savvy hound? (With very big teeth) Jake liked the drink, and the little romp in the parlor wore him out, so wanting to add insult to injury, he laid down, feet up, right there on the seat where I’d planned to relax, and promptly started snoring.

I think I finally understand why a world-renowned dog trainer asked me to take him home, three weeks before his training sessions were complete.  Jake has a mind of his own.

And the truth of the matter is, no other dog will ever replace him.

The only mistake today’s rescue people make is not offering me a solid black dog with a big toothy smile, and a mind of his own. So needless to say, the search continues for a canine companion.

Since, clearly, no one could ever replace Jake.

About the Author

Ane Ryan Walker is an author and adventurer who believes in Angels, Demons, Witches and Magic. She recently settled in Alabama, after traveling the country with her husband and living fulltime in her RV. Ane is a member of Womens Fiction Writers Association, Sisters in Crime, and former member of Romance Writers of America©.

Born and raised in the great northeast, she writes a fictional series Survivors of Salem, about the descendants of witches who survived the Salem Witch Trials. She is also currently working on books about fulltime RVing.

In addition to Return to Angels Cove, look for the second book in the Survivors of Salem, The Covenant.

Yes, I’m still writing like my hair’s on fire, but I had to pop in to post something! I think it’s been 3 or 4 years since I missed a blog date. Now, it’s a habit/compulsion. Since I don’t want to think too hard about anything except the story I have to finish this week, I’m going to let you exercise your brain matter! Here’s all you have to do to win your choice of one of my recent releases…

See the picture? I saw it on one of my frequent visits to the stock photo sites. I downloaded it with no particular purpose in mind. I’m thinking I want to do a series of shorter witchy stories. Something fun. But beyond that, I have no other ideas. So, I’m putting this pic out there for you to think about. You can offer a simple one-sentence idea or paint an entire paragraph of a story. Have fun with it. I won’t be judging your idea!!! Now, go!