Sunday, October 31, 2010

Halloween Bash!

***Warning--Readers beware: Today authors are digging up new and old tales. The allure will be too strong to ignore and you will be drawn to a hauntingly good read.

All Paranormal, Fantasy and Sci-fi authors--- Do you have a new release and would like to share it with others? If so, you've come to the right place. I'm opening my blog for blurbs and short excerpts. Post all information in the comments. Don't forget to let the readers know where they can find you and where they can purchase your book.

If you have a tale about fallen Angels, witches, ghosts, vampires, shapeshiftes of all kinds, aliens, time travel, a Halloween tale--- anything to do with the preternatural realm come by and tell us about it. Past releases welcomed, too.

All I ask is you keep it PG13 for the blurbs and short excerpt, so all ages can enjoy the day. :) If the story is an erotica, please make note of it in your post so the reader is aware before they purchase your book. Let's have a Hauntingly Good Time!

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Skhye Moncrief and Psychic Werewolves!

Skyhe Moncrief's werewolf tale is sure to intrigue all readers! Let's give Skyhe a warm welcome!

***Don't forget to enter the contest. Read on for details!

Psychic werewolves are saving the universe. And they're recruiting. Read chapter1 to learn how to avoid being inducted into the war! Of course, you might be gungho about joining the Blood Wars... Do you have what it takes to become an elite were-assassin? Run through this checklist to determine if you've got what it takes to keep Earth safe from the evil emperor's reign of mind control:

1. Are you into that legendary conflict between werewolves and vampires?

2. Do you think--deep down inside in an intuitive, rather instinctual way--that something is going to happen on Winter Solstice 2012? (You aren't alone. Many cultures around the world think something's going down... And the universe's free thinkers are determined to see it doesn't happen.)

3. Can you read minds, levitate objects, remote view, heal with your touch, sense truth with your gut, etc.?

4. Have you been told you are ADHD or a labeled a Violet Child?

5. Have you experienced lost time or alien-abduction nightmares?

6. Are you drawn to blood as if the substance somehow inherently exuded power?

7. Are you into Gothic anything?

If you answer yes to any of these points, read up on the Blood Wars.

Available in e-format at:

New Concepts Publishing\


This isn’t one of your brother’s Sci-Fi Books – it’s Rebel Mercenary meets Paranormal Alien Chick. ...Complex and well written, Ms. Moncrief seamlessly blended earth religion, new-age mysticism, paranormal events, shapeshifting rogue spies, and a who-done-it twist. The love scenes were not overly explicit, but very romantic & emotionally heart felt." ~
LynnMarie, HEA Reviews

"Feral Fascinations is one of those werewolf science fiction novels that captures the imagination. Skhye Moncrief has done an amazing job of bringing a new world out and showing it to the reader with such amazing clarity. ...An original novel many will enjoy as it combines both modern and futuristic elements twinned with horror... True horror and science fiction fans will take to this novel really well as the characters are fascinating and well worth reading about. The sex scenes are not descriptive, but leave plenty to the imagination so the reader can make of the scenes what they will." ~Sandra, Romance at the Heart Magazine

Enter to win a voodoo doll keychain!!! Just tell me which of the things listed above in the checklist pertains to your interest in this futuristic romance by midnight, CST, tonight! I'll randomly choose a winner and post the name here. Subscribe to this blog to learn if you won. And then hop over to and enter to win more Halloween treats!

Skhye's website

Skhye's blog
Skhye's newsletter yahoo group

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Shifters Blog Hop

Party with your Favorite Shifters at the Haunted Halloween Shifters' Ball! The more you blog hop, the more chances you have to win prizes!

The steps creaked as I stepped on the worn boards to reach the entrance to the dark shadowed house, which sported its own graveyard for added allure. Eli stood in the doorway with a lethal combination of beauty and charm. His whiskey colored eyes shimmering with gold depths as they wavered over my dark leather clad appearance with approval. “I like your pumpkins.”
“Uh...” My left eyebrow rose on my forehead, wondering what he meant by that statement.
His lips curved and he pointed. “The flashing pumpkin earrings you’re wearing.” His finger brushed a strand of my hair over my shoulder before his fingers handled the battery-operated earring with interest.
Man could this angel shifter be any more alluring with his chiseled face of beauty? Let’s not even mention his dove colored wings sprouting from his back in a majestic display of splendor.

“Who’s at the door?” a deep voice vibrated with warmth from within.
“Karen,” Eli called back. “That was Gabriel,” he said to me. “We were wondering if you’d show.”
“I was invited, wasn’t I?” Not really an answer, but I had no intentions of letting on how nervous I felt to meet the shifters.
“You were indeed invited.” His gaze latched onto mine again—warm and intense. “Do come in.”
I took one step over the threshold and a wave of warmth flowed over me, taking away the anxiety I’d been carrying with me the moment I walked up the lighted path to the house. I turned my gaze on Eli. “You’re using glamour, aren’t you?” My words were laced with suspicion.
He gave me a sheepish shrug. “Just want you to feel comfortable.”
“Hmm… said the fanged Fallen Angel,” I teased.
He leaned near to whisper. “None of us bite unless asked to.”
My gaze riveted to his. “Can you guarantee this with all your guests?”
His hand flew to his chest in mock pretense. “They’ll behave, I assure you.” His wicked gleam didn’t reassure me.
The foyer could hold twenty people or more without feeling claustrophobic. The high ceiling gave off an airy feel to the place. I glanced at Eli who towered over my five-foot, two-inch height. His wings were tucked close to his body, but the entryway could accommodate the full spread of his wings with ease.
As we entered the room where the thick of the party took place, I noticed the fire blazing in the stone hearth, the light casting a yellow glow on the wall both for warmth from the cool October night and for welcome. I especially liked the early Gothic décor with floor candelabras, and wall sconces giving off extra light. Some of the shifters were in their animal existence, while others gathered around the food table in their human forms. Unlike the Hollywood versions, shape shifters could shift from one reality to the other without stripping naked to do so. Though shifters weren't shy about wearing their Birthday suits.
Two wolves, one white as snow and the other black as the moonless night ran by nearly toppling us over. Eli’s hand snaked out, catching the back of my leather jacket and yanking me back to safety. The white wolf continued on, but the black wolf skidded to a stop and morphed into a gorgeous hunk fully clothed in blue jeans and black T-shirt. His ink black hair spilled over his shoulders in a cascade of ebony locks, so glossy the firelight gleamed off the stands in a golden haze. His piercing blue eyes latched onto me.

“Sorry about almost running you over. By the way, I’m Grayson Quinn.”
“I know.”
His brows arched.
I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “You’re a werewolf, I mean a moon shifter.” The Mac Tíre preferred not to be called werewolves since the human word tended to conjure up a hideous monster-like version of their wolf existence.
Grayson’s lips spread into a grin. “I suppose my wolf skin would give me away.” From somewhere in the mansion, a howl rose above the conversation in the room. Grayson’s smile grew wider. “If you’ll excuse me, Sydney is in a playful mood tonight.”
I waved my hand in dismissal. “Go on, we’ll chat later.”
Grayson shifted into the large graceful black wolf again, taking off after his mate.
I turned toward Eli, but something brushed against my hand—large and furry. Startled, I let out a yelp and backed into what felt like a wall. I whirled around to find Gabriel Cruzado standing there, his golden brown eyes smiling. “You’ve made it, I see.
The nuzzling at my hand drew my attention once more. I stared into the eyes of... “A jaguar,” I said before I could stop myself from stating the obvious. It wasn’t everyday you came face to face with a wildcat.
“Demetrius, you’re making our guest uncomfortable,” Gabriel reprimanded the jaguar, which so happened to be his brother.
Demetrius shifted into his glorious self, Armani suit and all. He liked the professional look unlike his surfer brother, Lucas, who happened to stroll into the room at that precise moment dressed in his typical attire of flip-flops and board shorts. He carried two long stemmed glasses. As he reached us, he handed me one of the drinks.
I starred at the red liquid wondering what drink was served at a Shifters' Ball. My expressions always gave me away and the men… uh...shifters chuckled in unison.
Demetrius’ hand came down on my shoulder with a friendly squeeze. “I assure you, it’s wine. Torbreck, it’s from my private collection. Once you tasted the explosive flavor, you’re palate will think it died and gone to heaven.” His golden eyes glowed with a preternatural sheen as he waited for me to indulge.
I raised the glass to my lips. Both surprised and pleased. “This is good.” Usually wine wasn’t my thing, but I could get used to this.
“Man, this stuff is way too expensive.” Lucas shook his head. Do you know that this goes for $175 a bottle? It’s good, but Two Buck Chuck is just as tasty if you asked me.” He tipped his head back as he downed the drink like a whiskey shot.
Demetrius shook his head. “Excuse my brother’s deplorable taste, he spends too much time in the sun and his brain’s a little fried.” He took hold Lucus’ arm and led him away with a reprimand for his lack of taste.
The three Cruzado brothers were similar in looks, all with various shades of brown hair and golden eyes. They were naguals, spirit guides in the werejaguar world, but all so different in personality. Gabriel painted works of art, Lucas designed surfboards for a living and Demetrius was a successful lawyer.
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Demetrius and Lucas never see eye to eye on things, but I assure you they would have each other’s back in a crisis.
Eli nodded. “Not so different than the Watchers. I have no doubt about my brethren having my back in a fight.”
“Even Lucca?” I don’t know what possessed me to bring up the Fallen Angel who held a grudge against Eli. Must be the wine loosening my tongue. “Sorry—”
Eli held up his hand. “It’s okay. Lucca will come around…eventually. I have faith.”
Gabriel lifted his brows, obviously having doubts about the Fallen Angel, Lucca Marlowe, but he kept his opinions to himself.
Eli turned toward me. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the other shifters.”
My lips curved as I sipped my wine. I kind of liked having a Fallen Angel and a Werejaguar for my escorts.
To meet the next shifters on the party list, pop on over to:
I'm giving away a pdf copy of one of my Shifter Romances. Winner's choice of Destiny's Prerogative (werejaguar), Moon Shifter (werewolf) or Eli: Warriors For the Light(Angel shifters.) All you need to do is tell me which shifter you'd like to meet.

1. Eli
2. Grayson
3. Gabriel

Please be sure to leave your name and email so I may contact you if you should win. Don't forget to hop to the next blog on the list for more chances to win. Good Luck!
Next stop on the tour is
Keta Diablo at:

Blog List:

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Scary Paranormal Games Children Play

By Karen Michelle Nutt

This levitation game has been around for decades. We played this at slumber parties and were amazed that it worked.

This "trick" requires at least five people. One person was supposed to be the victim. He or she would lie ron the floor with eye their eyes closed. The other four participants would surround him or her, one on each side, one at the head and one at the feet. Each of the participants places two fingers of each hand beneath the victim. Everyone would close their eyes and begin to chant, "Light as a feather. Stiff as a board." over and over again. Then the participants would be able to raise the victim off the floor as if they weighed no more than a feather. This can also be done using a chair like the party diagram above.

The Ouija is on of the most well-known paranormal game in the world and can be found in toy stores. What a game to give to a child. Here, go play with the unknown. Hmmm… doesn’t seem quite right. This toy (I use the word lightly) dates back centuries.

The Ouija is a game board. There are printed the letters of the alphabet and the words "yes," "no" and "goodbye." Two players place their fingers lightly on a planchette or pointer then ask questions. The pointer then magically slides around the board, spelling out answers.
Some believe the planchette moves as an unconscious effort by one or both people playing the game. Many people believe the Ouija board can possibly open the door to the spirit realm.
Unfortunately, you cannot control what comes through that door, leaving the player vulnerable to evil spirits.

Some also believe the Ouija can be used safely if a proper cleansing prayer is done before and after using it.

We also played this game at slumber parties. Most of the time, I would say someone was moving it on purpose. There was one incident were the planchette zoomed around the board so fast we couldn’t keep our fingers on it. It kept spelling everyone’s name in the room. It was really creepy.


The conjuring of Bloody Mary has been a favorite way for teenagers, girls in particular, to scare themselves silly.

You stand in a dark room where there is a mirror, usually a bathroom. You stare into the mirror and chant "Bloody Mary" 13 times. Then supposedly the gruesome spirit of Bloody Mary will appear behind you in the mirror.

The history of the Bloody Mary legend is believed to have originated in the 16th century. Mary Queen of Scotts was involved in many plots and murders. She was executed in 1587. Supposedly it is her bloody corpse that appears in the mirror.

I was always too scared to try this one.
Did anyone see the Bloody Mary episode on Supernatural? Creeeeepy!


Psychic Uri Geller is credited with the phenomenon of spoon bending. Skeptics claim this feat is nothing more than a magic trick. Others say that it is a psychic phenomenon that just about anyone can do.

There are actually spoon bending parties. Go figure. The host brings the spoons. Forks can be used also. The party goers are asked to choose a utensil they believe will bend, and sometime during the course of the event, most of the spoons and forks indeed do bend and twist. Invite people to the party that you know and like. Create a relaxed atmosphere of fun and laughter. Ask each participant to choose a utensil that they believe "wants" to bend. You should ask the fork, "Will you bend for me?" Then hold the fork vertically and shout, "Bend! Bend!" Rub it gently with your fingers.

The utensil may not bend at first. You put it down and come back later to check on it. See what happens.

I’ve never had a party for this fun little game. Lol Maybe someone would like to give it a go and get back to us.

Did you play any of these games as a child? Did you play others? If so, share with us.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Sharon A. Donovan, Author of Gripping Page Turners!

Let's welcome Sharon Donovan, author of romantic suspense with a Twist. She's here today to share excerpts of her new and upcoming releases!

Charade of the Hearts Coming soon to The Wild Rose!

While scuba diving off the coast of Diamond Head with her diving partner on a quest to find a family heirloom, underwater photographer Dominique St. John witnesses his brutal murder and photographs it, ensnaring her in a deadly jewel ring. And when the investigating officer turns out to be her partner’s identical twin, a man she knew nothing about, her life becomes a Charade of Hearts.

Welcome to the world of greed, intrigue, deception and murder. And at its core is a blue diamond worth millions.

As honest as his twin was corrupt, Honolulu Homicide Detective Oliver Carvalho must convince Dominique that her diving partner and best friend was a crook. In a race against time, Oliver must rescue Dominique from a ruthless killer. But his biggest challenge proves to be mending a broken heart torn by betrayal that can only be redeemed by love.

Her Biggest Friend

From the shadows of the woods, he keeps vigil. The stage is set to drive the pretty little princess insane. He’s coming for her. And when he catches her, he’ll pounce on her like the big bad wolf.

After receiving a disturbing fan letter, New York Times best-selling author Tess Kincaid flees to the New England home she’s inherited following her father’s suicide. The manor has been tainted with, every room staged to resemble the way it was in its glory days. But when Tess calls the police, the chilling props vanish into thin air.

Ruggedly handsome Sheriff Mike Andretti is called to investigate the reported burning candles, dancing gargoyles and otherworldly. When he discovers no trace of the eerie setting, he finds himself caught between duty and desire. Is the woman with the bewitching green eyes delusional--or is this a trap of twisted wit set by a demented fan?


From the shadows of the woods, he keeps vigil. The stage is set to drive the pretty little princess insane. He’s coming for her. And when he catches her, he’ll pounce on her like the big bad wolf.

From the grand ballroom, the soft floating of piano keys drifted, louder and louder, faster and faster, reaching a spiking crescendo that shook the chandelier. And then all was quiet as the manor settled from the riveting climax that rattled the windows.

An eerie twine hummed through the corridor. Shocked by the scaling spike of piano keys, Tess’s knees wobbled. Floundering, she leaned against the wall for support.

She gasped for breath, her heartbeat escalating. In barely more than a whisper, she called out. “Daddy?”

Her mind raced. Could her dad be alive? Did he stage his own death? Tears stung her eyes. She had to find out. But still, she proceeded with caution. She sensed evil from deep in her soul.

Camouflaged in the dim lighting, Tess scaled along the walls of the barrel corridor, blending into the dark wood paneling.

Inching her way a bit deeper, she crept, her heart pounding. Beads of sweat trickled down her spine. A door banged, sounding like shutters smacking the house. Then she felt a rush of cool air coming from the grand ballroom, dank with the smell of rain and something else. Burning candles.

Fear clutched her from deep within. As she got closer, the scent of jasmine grew stronger. The sweet smell permeated the air. It was as if her father were still alive, entertaining in the grand ballroom. Just as Tess reached the arched column to the massive hall, a bolt of thunder exploded in the sky, followed by an illuminating flash of lightning. Then all went dark.

Tess stood at the entrance, polarized. Goose bumps prickled her flesh. When the icy instrumental of Moonlight Sonata started all over again, she took a step back and gasped. Peering into the massive hall, she stared in disbelief.

On either side of the mahogany bar, standing candelabras gleamed, long white tapers flickering in the dark. Open terrace doors banged in the wind, bringing in the pouring rain. The air carried the mingled scent of jasmine and stale tobacco. Pleated silk drapes billowed out like wings.

Rain puddled the cherry wood floor that once sparkled beneath the mirrored ceiling and crystal chandelier. The ghostly sound of piano keys escalated as Moonlight Sonata played on the old Victrola. And in the center of the room, looking for all the world like guests of honor at a grand masquerade, two wax gargoyles danced cheek to cheek, costumed in feather masks as bizarre as the setting.


Mask of the Betrayer

When the whispers in the night, the whispers of her lover, are the whispers of a killer, will Margot escape before she becomes the next victim?

Deep in the foothills of Red Rock Canyon, a serial killer stalks. He leaves his signature—a skull mask on the corpse. But when the homicide cop realizes the crimes are the reenactment of a case never solved ten years ago--all fingers point to Michael DeVeccio. And when Margot realizes she is married to the killer, her life becomes a living nightmare.

Excerpt: Reaching Carlos DeVeccio’s bedroom, she got a little thrill as old memories surfaced. Just a few more seconds and she’d fall into the arms of her lover. She smiled to herself. She’d returned to Vegas for a reason. She was flat broke. But after tonight, Michael would be her ticket back into the world of luxury. And then she’d be mistress of the manor once more. And more to the point, she’d have access to his billion dollar bank roll.

With a devious smile, she pushed her way through the heavy mahogany door. Crossing the threshold, she entered the house of horrors. Carlos DeVeccio had been a real nut, one straight out of the books. But with her fetish for face masks, she loved his collection and had often come into his wing just to admire them. And what a thrill it had been to have sex in the coffin, howling along with the werewolf. Some might think it a bit kinky, but they didn’t know what they were missing. Calling out to her lover, her pulse quickened a beat. “Michael? Are you here yet, darling?”

And that’s when she heard it, manic laughter sounding as if it were coming from the final circle of hell. A slither of fear trickled down her spine, releasing a wild rush of panic. Carlos?

She thought about the deaths of Carlos and Lacy Diamond. Two Ninja assassinations were no coincidence. Had the killer been downstairs, masquerading as one of the guests? Sensing danger, she felt for her sword. It was gone. Panic soared through her. Where the hell was it?

The laughter got louder and louder, moving in closer and closer. It seemed to be bouncing off the walls. She couldn’t tell from which direction it was coming. Just then, the bell in the tower rang the first of twelve piercing gongs, the splintering shattering her eardrums like the sound of canon balls. Instinctively, she covered her ears with her hands. Where the hell was Michael?

Evil red eyes followed her every move. She had to escape this hell before it was too late. She couldn’t think over the gonging of the bell. Every few seconds, the werewolf howled at the moon. She screamed, even though she knew no one would ever hear her. Floundering in wild disarray, disoriented by the darkness and relentless gonging, she searched in vain for the door. Her arms swam in mid-air, like a person drowning, desperate for an anchor, something to hold onto. She reached out and grabbed. Nothing. She had to find a way out of this mausoleum of the living dead before it was too late. Where the hell was Michael?

The laughter got closer. Perspiration drenched her skin. The chilling laughter echoed in her ears, louder and louder, closer and closer. The bell in the bell tower broke through the thin filament of sanity she had left. The werewolf open his mouth and howled at the moon. Where was Michael? He’d know what to do. He was a master swordsman. His fencing skills were extraordinary. He could wield a Ninja star with his eyes closed and hit the mark. Where was he?

Blood thundered in her ears, but not loud enough to block out the manic laughter. It was close—but she couldn’t see a thing. She wished she had her sword. She turned to run, but it was too late. She heard a distinct click. The killer had just depressed the button on her Zorro sword, releasing the thirty-seven inch blade. His psychotic laughter reached an ear-splitting crescendo just as the bell in the tower gonged out its last chime. From the dark shadows, Valentino pounced, her Zorro sword gleaming in the moonlight.

“Surprise!” he thrust the sword into her heart. “I promised to make you scream, Darling Candace. Let me hear you scream.”

Mask of the Betrayer



Sharon, you are truly an inspiration to all of us! Thank you so much for coming by for a visit. I wish you the very best!

Monday, October 25, 2010

Cate Masters and Instruments of Magic

Cate Masters is a multi-published author of Historical, Fantasy and Contemporary Romances. Let's give her a warm welcome.

Ordinary item – or instrument of magic?

By Cate Masters

As Halloween approaches, even common household items become magical. Brooms, for instance, have long been associated with witches. But according to lore of old, brooms have special magic of their own. Did you know, for instance, you should never place a broom against your bed? The broom’s evil spirit will cast a spell on you. (Frankly, any instrument of cleaning is evil, in my book!) If you ever wish to be married, never let a broom sweep over your feet. If you step on the handle of a broom lying on the floor, it could bring death. Dropping a broom means company will arrive. If you sweep your floor and send debris out the back door, you’ll summon a stranger to visit. If you have a house guest you prefer didn’t return, don’t sweep out the room where the guest stayed. When you move, leave your old broom behind, or bad luck will follow you. If you’re like me, you’ll play it safe and don’t even keep a broom in your house.

Mirrors are another common item that, in knowing hands, become instruments of magic. If you want to place someone under your spell, use a mirror reflect moonlight off that person’s face while s/he sleeps. Looking at your mirror image by candlelight brings bad luck. In olden times, people believed breaking a mirror would take away their souls for seven years.

Careful how you handle that salt, too. According to an old saying, “To pass salt is to pass sorrow,” so never hand it directly to another. If we spill salt, friendly spirits are warning us that evil approaches, so toss a pinch of salt over your left shoulder to stave off danger. Sprinkling salt on your doorstep will keep away evil spirits too. If you suspect someone has cast a spell over you, you might be able to break it by taking a salt bath. Just use plenty of moisturizer afterward. :)

One of the most intriguing aspect of All Hallows’ Eve is the notion that, for that night, the veil between the worlds thins, allowing souls to travel between. My novella, One Soul for Sale, incorporates that notion into the modern tale of a woman who lists her soul online, with surprising results. I hope you’ll check out this fun story: Reviews have described it as “outstanding,” a “riveting read… I couldn’t stop until I hit the last page.” You can view the trailer at

Do you have any Halloween superstitions?

Cate Masters writes fantasy/paranormal, historical, contemporary and speculative fiction, described by reviewers as “so compelling, I did not want to put it down,” “such romantic tales that really touch your soul,” “filled with action scenes which made it a riveting story,” and “the author weaves a great tale with a creative way of using words that makes the story refreshing to read.” The proud mom of three adult children, she currently lives in central Pennsylvania with her husband, Lily the dog, their dictator-like cat, Chairman Maiow, and dozens of characters inhabiting her imagination.

Visit Cate online at, or follow her on Facebook or Twitter. Cate loves to hear from readers. Email her at: cate.masters[AT]

Monday, October 18, 2010

Interview with Jessica Chambers, Author of Contemporary Women’s Fiction

Jessica Chambers, author of a heart-warming novel of love and self-discovery is here today to tell us about her new release, Voices on the Waves. Let's give her a warm welcome!

***Jessica's running a contest for the duration of her October blog tour. Anyone who comments on any of the posts throughout the tour will be entered into the draw to win a $15 gift voucher for their choice of Amazon or Barnes & Noble. The five winners will be announced on October 31st over at Jessica's blog:

Tell us a little about yourself:

I’m a UK born author currently living with my family and crazy Staffordshire bull terrier in the English town of Windsor, most famous for its castle and nearby Eton College. At the age of five, I was diagnosed with Retinitis Pitmentosa, a degenerative eye condition that has left me almost totally blind. Not that I’ve ever allowed this to get in the way of my ambition to be a published author.

Clichéd as it sounds, I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. As a shy person, I love being able to escape into another world, and the sense of power that comes with controlling everything that goes on in that world. I especially love writing women’s fiction centered around memorable characters that leap off the page. I’m also an avid reader of pretty much any genre. So long as it has a page-turning plot and vivid, believable characters, I’m there!

Tell us about your new release, Voices on the Waves.

It’s a sweet women’s fiction novel set against the stunning backdrop of rural Cornwall. Faye Wakefield, my generous but rather lonely heroine, runs a competition offering nine lucky winners a two-week stay at her beautiful farmhouse retreat. She hopes the contest will help her find a solution to her troubles, but it ends up achieving more than she ever imagined. This is far more than a holiday romance. It’s a novel of self-discovery and of coming to terms with the past. With newfound love, illicit affairs and the sharing of long-buried secrets, Voices on the Waves really does have it all.

What inspired you to write the story?

I suppose it all started with my fascination with people and the ways in which they interact. What would happen, I asked myself, if you forced a group of strangers together in one place for a set length of time, and then left them to their own devices? Rather like a chilled out version of Big Brother without the cameras, if you will. Then, having assembled my cast of diverse personalities, all I had to do was let my imagination flow and the sparks fly.

I noticed you were also the book cover artist. Do you design book covers, too?

I didn’t design the cover for Voices on the Waves as such, but I did have a lot of input. I knew I wanted a softer, painting-style image rather than a photograph, and then I stumbled across this particular painting while searching the internet for pictures of the Cornish coast. I wrote to the artist, Gillian Jansen, and she very kindly said I could use it for my cover. After that, with a lot of help from my dad who’s a whiz with Photoshop, we turned the painting into the cover you see now.

What do you find most rewarding about writing?

It’s wonderful when a reader tells you how much she enjoyed your book. It’s what makes all the hard work worth while. Also, though, I love the satisfaction of getting that first draft down on paper, the relief of seeing that initial idea through to its conclusion.

What are your current projects and works in progress?

I’ve just started work on a novella, which will be written as part of a series with a group of my fellow authors at Red Rose. The idea is that we each write a book based on a reality TV show, and I’m taking the inspiration for mine from talent shows such as American Idol and The X Factor. It’s shaping up to be really great fun!

I’m also in the throes of editing a novel called painting The Summer. More of a mystery than Voices On The Waves, it centers around a wealthy English family whose lives are torn apart when they invite a handsome young artist into their home to paint their portraits. All going well, I’m hoping both novels will be published some time in 2011.

Tell the readers where they can find you:

They can visit my website at: where they’ll be able to read an excerpt from Voices on the Waves, follow my blog and keep up to date with my latest news and contests.


When Faye Wakefield runs a competition offering nine lucky winners a two-week holiday at her beautiful farmhouse retreat in Cornwall, she promises an experience they will never forget. However, even Faye could not have imagined how bringing these people together would change their lives forever.

Just as she hoped, the competition yields a diverse mixture of characters. Among them are Leah Shaw, a shy young woman with troubled eyes, the womanizing business tycoon Marcus Armitage, Karenza Jackson, ruled by her deep-rooted need for independence, retired nurse Bronwyn Davis, and Patrick O’Leary, an Irishman with an affiliation for the whisky bottle.

So begins a gently unfolding story of love and illicit affairs, heartbreak and self-discovery. Yet, as sparks fly and the guests share their long-suppressed secrets, only Faye knows of her ulterior motive for inviting them all under her roof.


Reaching the pool, Faye paused to watch Marcus’s graceful progress through the water. God, he’s magnificent, she reflected, marveling at the tanned leanness of his body. As handsome as the legendary Matthew Trewhella, who had ensnared the Mermaid Morveren with his singing. There was no doubt that Marcus had ensnared her, and Tiffany, too.

She continued to gaze at him, assailed by long-suppressed memories of a time before love and pain had become forever entangled in her mind, until he paused to catch his breath and saw her.

He awarded her a lazy smile, stopping Faye’s heart mid-beat. “Is this a vision I behold, or could this be my gorgeous hostess come to join me?”

She blushed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. As you see, I’m all on my lonesome here just waiting for a charming lady companion.”

“I just saw Tiffany on the terrace. I would have thought she’d be happy to do you the honor.”

“Alas, it seems a tumble in the pool with me was not sufficient reward for her to dampen her lustrous locks.”

She laughed, feeling awkward. Marcus’s gray eyes roving over her made Faye acutely aware of her body on display, and of her face flushed from cleaning the kitchen. To hide her embarrassment, she discarded her sarong and lowered herself into the pool. Cool water enveloped her, welcome against her skin. She swam a couple of self-conscious lengths before coming to rest by the wall a short distance from where Marcus was floating on his back.

“You look very relaxed,” she said.

“Hmmm, I could get used to this, that’s for sure. You’ve got a really nice set up here, Faye. I’m considering following you into the business.”

“What? You’d exchange your position as owner of a successful company for frying bacon and making beds?”

“Well, obviously I’d employ people to do the more menial tasks.” Marcus rolled onto his front and came to rest his arms on the wall beside her. “Seriously, though, I just don’t seem to be getting the same satisfaction out of my work as I used to. In fact, my whole life feels stale at the moment: my job, my marriage, my kids, everything. I love my kids, don’t get me wrong, but they’re always making demands on me to watch their hockey matches or help them with their algebra, and I never seem to have any time to myself.”

“So is that why you entered the competition? You needed to get away for a while?

“Exactly. Ever since I turned forty earlier this year, I’ve had this urge to forget all my responsibilities and do what I want for a change.”

He certainly hadn’t wasted any time there, Faye mused. Barely had he set foot over the threshold before he was indulging in a little flirtation. Faye couldn’t blame him. Few men could remain immune to such vivacious beauty, and in Tiffany’s place, she knew she would have received this man with open arms.

She drank him in out of the corner of her eye. His shoulders glistened with water and his fair hair lay flat against his head, accentuating its arrogant tilt. A yearning such as she had not encountered for longer than she cared to recall welled up inside her, catching her off guard.

Briefly Faye imagined how it would feel to have his arms around her, pressing her against that streamlined body. She almost laughed out loud at herself. It was hopeless even to think such things. She was only eight years Marcus’s senior, and there was a time when she could have held her own against many women half her age, but not anymore. Her recent strain and the loss of a considerable amount of weight had left her looking haggard and older than her years. No, Marcus might tease her but he would never view her as an object of desire.

Pushing the thought aside, Faye adopted a bright tone. “Does your wife know you’re here?”

“Lord no,” Marcus said, clearly horrified. “If I’d mentioned I’d won this competition, Alison would have expected to come with me. As far as my family is concerned, I’m attending a conference on the future of the property market, among other things.”

“But aren’t you worried she’ll find out?”

“Oh, no, Alison trusts me too much to doubt my word. I called her last night to let her know I’d arrived safely in Leeds, and she never suspected a thing.” He gave a self-congratulatory shrug. “And in the unlikely event of her questioning me too deeply about the conference, I’ve sent my most trusted associate to check it out on my behalf so he can fill me in on the details.”

“You,” Faye said, splashing him playfully, “are an extremely naughty boy.”

Marcus grinned. “And don’t you just love it?”

Laughing, Faye turned onto her back to hide her blush. The sun’s earlier intensity had lessened, and it felt pleasantly warm on her outstretched limbs. The breeze carried the hum of male voices to her ears, and in the distance she made out the figures of Will and Anjum playing tennis.

Suddenly the beauty of the scene overwhelmed her: the clouds sketching patterns against the sky, the walls of the old farmhouse glazed a soft apricot in the afternoon light, the shrubs and trees in every shade of green. It was all so picturesque, the colors so vivid and full of life, Faye found it painful to look at.

“Faye, what is it?” Marcus’s voice broke into her thoughts, full of concern. “You’re crying.”

“Don’t be daft.” She wiped a hand across her cheeks. “I got water in my eye, that’s all.”

Buy Voices On The Waves from Red Rose Publishing

Friday, October 15, 2010

Trail Me Teasers Blog Hop!

Fallen Angels are all so tempting!

At a very young age the Rules of Conduct for the Fallen Angels were drummed into Eli Grigori’s head. He managed to break all of them. He falls in love with Ryden O'Sullivan, a human, his soul mate. Hashasheen demons, assassins for hire are sent to take out Eli and Ryden. With his wings bound and his magic gone, can Eli protect his love? Will any of it matter to the Watchers?

My Tale is: The Curse of Tempest GateA beautiful sculpture in the cemetery, a stone angel warrior, draws her attention and her admiration. Could this be the Archangel Michael? Then she finds out more than she bargains for when she sits in the devil’s chair on the eve of Halloween. Two entities need her for their own personal reasons, but only one will demand her heart.
What paranormal being tickles your fancy?

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