Wishing you a Simply Irresistible New Year!

***Happy New Year***

Here’s wishing you and yours a happy, healthy 2018! I managed to stay pretty busy in 2017 and as a result will have a few new releases this year. First on the 2018 roster is Simply Irresistible, another eclectic boxed set from some of the best-selling and award winning authors of the Romance Books ‘4’ Us group. You can pre-order now, and/or it will be available January 23. My contribution to the set is Cross My Heart, a sexy romantic suspense novella that I’ve revised from a previously published story that reviewers called…”sexy, tense, fast-paced, and a book you don’t want to miss”.

Cross My Heart

Liberal talk show host, Valentine Cross and police detective Jack Sutton can’t keep their hands off of one another until their obvious differences start to interfere with their careers, and Jack makes the mistake of issuing an ultimatum that Val fears will destroy them both.

Six months after walking out of Valentine Cross’ life because she refused to marry him, Jack Sutton receives an assignment that sends him right back into her arms, but will she forgive him when she finds out why?

A long time ago Valentine vowed to never break another promise, but that’s exactly what Jack wants. Her connection to an underground women’s shelter might be the key to finding a missing suspect whose life might be in danger, but at what cost?

Old secrets and fears give way to exploding passions as the lovers have to decide whether to trust one another, or walk away from a second chance to be together.

Excerpt: PG13

She gave up and angled her wheels, tapped the gas and inched into the snow-banked curb at the bottom of the hill before setting the parking brake. Winter in Kansas City was always an adventure but tonight’s storm had added an extra layer of ice to the three feet of snow they’d already gotten.

She slipped her purse over her shoulder and swept her spiky red hair under a pink stocking cap. Her boots slid when she swung her legs out of the car and tried to stand so she dug the black stiletto heels into the ice and used them as picks to get to the semi-shoveled sidewalk. She was halfway up the hill when she recognized Jack Sutton’s empty brown Ford pickup parked in front of her house.

Valentine went hot and cold at the same time and could have sworn her heart skipped a beat. What the hell was he doing here?

Maybe he’d come to return his key. He could have mailed it six months ago.

Maybe he missed the sludge she called coffee. She was out of milk so he was out of luck because it was the only way he’d drink it.

Maybe he was through issuing ultimatums about getting married.

He hadn’t wanted to take no for an answer and had scoffed at her fear that one day he’d resent the fact that he was losing promotions because of something she had done or said or both.

Then again, maybe she’d missed the memo about hell freezing over because for the past six months she’d figured that’s what would need to happen to get him to walk back through her door again.

He’d spread ice-melt on the steps and her concrete slab front porch. He had to have brought it with him because he’d instinctively known that she probably didn’t have enough on hand. It wouldn’t start working until it got a little warmer but that was Jack, still looking out for her as if she were helpless. Once upon a time that might have made her angry. Today, it reminded her of how well he knew her and all of the little considerate things he’d done when they’d been together.

Right before he’d turned into a macho jackass.

She could hear him stomping to the door before she reached it. She closed her eyes and heard the door swing open.

“Who have you pissed off this time?” he growled in a voice so deep its rough promise curled inside of her like a dark vine trying to take root. She shivered and opened her eyes.

Slavic cheekbones a woman would sell her soul to possess were shadowed by dark stubble. He was dressed in his basic uniform of a dark tee shirt and jeans. It was winter so he was wearing boots instead of leather lace-up tennis shoes. Even scowling, he was handsome—if you liked wiry junkyard dogs with a double dose of bad-boy attitude.

“I piss off a lot of people. It’s hard to say.” She fought to keep her voice even, to keep from reaching for him. “Why are you in my house?”

* * *

Simply Irresistible

Available for pre-order now from

Amazon: https://www..amazon.com/dp/B078KQRC6X/

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/simply-irresistible-19

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/simply-irresistible/id1329236966?mt=11

Dare to be intrigued, by this collection of sexy tales full of first time lovers, second chances, and fantasy encounters. Sprinkle in some danger and suspense and you have a good idea of what to expect. At $.99, it’s a bargain for anyone who enjoys a good romance. What’s your pleasure? This set has it all!

Until next month,

Happy Reading!

Paris Brandon

Website: http://parisbrandon.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/paris.brandon.author

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/ParisBrandon

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/parisbrandonaut/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3297125.Paris_Brandon

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00N3M7EEM

A member of Romance Writers of America and published since 2009, I write contemporary, paranormal, erotic and historical romance, throwing a little mystery and suspense in for good measure. Currently self-published and published with Decadent Publishing, I like nothing better than a story that contains a little mystery and a lot of romance. 

When not dreaming up stories featuring heroes who aren’t intimidated by strong heroines, I can be found haunting antique and thrift stores for unique finds, or planning a new flower garden. I live in the mid-west with my husband of many years, who knows his way around the kitchen and saves me from starvation when I’m trying to make a deadline.

Now That's a Mystery

I read a review the other day that said most fantasies don’t have a mystery in them, and I began to wonder about that. I’m not sure that’s true, because to me it seems most fantasies have the hero/heroine searching for something. If they don’t know what it is, isn’t that a mystery? Even in my romantic comedies, the main characters are searching for a fundamental truth.

But, I have noticed as I write more straight mystery novels and turn to higher adventure fantasies, that the two become inexplicably combined in my fantasies (maybe a touch of magic even shows up in my mysteries).

In a recent new series that I have, strange things start to happen and even the earth angels involved can’t figure out how they’re occurring. For instance, what’s going on when a car appears to have driven by itself, no driver, or when lions suddenly appear in the back yard? What’s with the huge buzzard that keeps crashing into windshields? Then there’s the mysterious question of why the main character’s mother-in-law is being guarded by an archangel.

In my latest co-written work, This Magic Moment, released in December, the hero and heroine are searching for a love that has evaded them their whole lives. More importantly, they are searching for that one thing that will make them truly happy in their own skin. At the beginning, neither person is filled with wonder but beaten down by everyday life. To make matters even more interesting, mysterious things begin to happen, like everyone seemingly knowing what they’re doing all the time. How? Photos show up they didn’t know were taken. It appears someone is manipulating them so they’ll stay in the same rooms at night. Who could be behind all the mysterious occurrences they are now experiencing?

Piqued your interest? This Magic Moment is available now exclusively at Amazon.  The print copy is also available. The other series I mentioned, Walk Right In, is out now in e-book and print, released by L&L Dreamspell, and the sequel, Walk Right Back, will be out any time now. You can read more these and others on my website, www.DarynCross.com . For now, just remember that if someone says there’s no mystery in fantasy, you can ask them if they know how it will end when they begin. Not that’s a mystery.

Are Werewolves Real?

Do you really believe were-animals are real? If so, why don’t we know about them? I get these questions a lot. Why? Because I write fantasy and paranormal romance.

So, let’s start with how I portray the Weres in the Warriors For Light (WFL) series. They are human. Born human, live as humans and die as humans. They just have a little extra in their DNA—okay, a lot extra. If they mate with a human, their children will take after the stronger DNA—Were.

All Weres pass as norms. In early life, they can’t change forms. My term is phasing. They don’t phase until puberty. That just proves Mother Nature has a sense of humor. Imagine, acne, growth spurts and suddenly nature throws in the shift. Yup, it just has to happen at the same time.

Is it a smooth event for the poor teen? Not a chance. That’s why I said Mother Nature has a sense of humor. Except for the Alpha born, who phase into their animal form correctly the first time. For the average Were, it can be only one part of their body that phases. Such as the legs, or both legs and arms, but the rest looks human.

Image being fourteen and losing control of who and what you are. One minute you are human, the next your head and body are a wolf or leopard but you have human legs and arms. Homeschooling comes to the rescue until the poor teen learns control. Then it is onto the varsity football team.

So how does the phase happen once a Were has gained control of his or her animal side? It happens in a nano-second. One minute he is human, the next a wolf or leopard or bear or badger. No rending of clothes, no pain, just poof, in the blink of an eye he changes.

In the world I have created, the clothing and weapons disappear to but return unharmed when a Were phases/shifts back to human. Their clothing looks same as before the change. Fae talk about having an In-between Space where they store stuff, including their many weapons. It’s possible the Weres’ different forms are in a were-in-between space. Who knows?

The predator species have three forms: human, animal and Warrior-Beast. I think some novelist or filmmaker spotted one of the Weres in warrior-beast form, because the movie creations are closest to that. The face—while clearly wolf—will retain some human characteristics. The eyes never change. Fur covers the body, but the warrior-beast stands upright, going, say, from a sold five foot ten to almost six foot eight. The legs are shorter than the body and have the look of a wolf/dog being held upright. However, the warrior-beast is super fast and strong in that form; make that deadly.

You will find them in the military, as firefighters, forest rangers; police officers, school teachers, your Boy Scout leader, and an Eagle Scout may really be an eagle.

In warrior-beast form, a Were is enough to make a meth head go straight. Unfortunately, it doesn’t frighten demons.

Why?

Surely a Were in warrior-beast form could tear apart a demon. True, they could. However, Weres are tasty and much sought after treats. Once eaten, the demon’s absorb the poor Were’s magick. So it’s the goal of every Were in my stories to stay alive and whole.

L.J. DeLeon

How To Play God Without Developing a Complex

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. Big deal, fantasy authors do it all the time.

Need to bend the rules of physics? As long as you keep it consistent and credible, go ahead. Want to have demons, angels, werewolves, and other shapeshifters existing in the same world? Fine, just make sure your characters are believable. Hey, you do believe in these beings, don’t you?

The most important rule to writing fantasy is to build your world and characters so your reader believes they exist. These creations must operate under a specific set of criteria that you set in the beginning throughout the story. For example, if a werewolf can only shift during the full moon, don’t suddenly have one of them able to shift at will—unless in your world the alpha can do anything or it is a new mutation, but be sure to let your reader know this from the start.

Once you have established the rules of your world, you can have fun. Let your imagination run free because you’re the God of your world. A God without a complex, no guilt allowed here, no remorse permitted. Torture your characters, destroy your worlds, rebuild and start anew, it’s all in a day’s work for a God. And I do so love being a God.

Bio:
LJ DeLeon is an Army brat and a world-traveled former CIA Intelligence Analyst who has seen enough of this world to appreciate other worlds. Working for the CIA was great training for writing fantasy, paranormal, and futuristic romance--and understanding the warrior mentality.

Amazing how real life and fiction overlap.

LJ’s books
can be found at all major on line bookstores.

Contact information for LJ:
Website: http://www.ljdeleon.com
Blog: http://www.warriorsforlight.com
Facebook: LJ-DeLeon
Twitter: @LJ_DeLeon

Ups and Downs

This has been a week of ups and downs for me and my family. The lows include two close friends being diagnosed with cancers, my son (with whom we live) being laid off, and the death of our darling cat(we had her for 19 years). All rough patches. But there were high points too...The bookstore where I work held a book signing for me (and two other local authors) on Friday night. Though I had all three of my "print" books there, the focus was on my newest one, PRIME TIME, and I thought it went pretty well. During the signing, the local TV station came in and interviewed us and we made the 10:00 news. That was fun. My best friend and critique partner came over on Thursday and we spent several hours brainstorming and got problems worked out for both of us on our current works-in-progress.

That brainstorming session gave me the nudge (re: kick in the butt)to get focused. I was splitting my writing time between two stories, not into either one enough to really work on it much. According to my own logic, I was too concerned about my own issues to worry about a character's problems. And yes, I'm still worried, but I am also dealing, which I wasn't before.

My new story, a fantasy, is starting to shape up nicely. I've got the main characters named and fleshed out, the issues they're facing and when they're facing them charted out, and work done on secondary characters. I'm starting to love this book more and more with each day. The excitement of writing is back for me, plus, it's a bit cathartic. As I write my characters into - and out of - bad situations, I work through my own troubles. My characters are facing thing much worse than I'll ever face, and they're going to survive (at least, the two main ones will!) so I will too. Together, we'll all get through this. Like my characters in PRIME TIME, you can't hide from your problems, but have to face them. To find out more about PRIME TIME, or any of my other stories, click here. It will take you to my wordpress site where you can see both Vicky Burkholder, and Victoria Allen's stuff.

May you have a good day/week with more highs than lows.

Vicky/Victoria

Celtic New Year

Happy Holidays everyone. I hope you all have a Happy New Year. I write Celtic romances and the New Year celebration, called Samhain, was as important to the ancient Celts as New Years is to us. Even more so as the long cold days of winter were dangerous to ancient man and the Samhain rituals helped keep them in the gods and goddesses’ favor, increasing the tribe’s chance of survival. Here’s a New Year excerpt from my brand new release a Paranormal/ Erotica/ Romance The Wolf and The Druidess

Excerpt:
“Yes, Druidess. It is the best new year celebration ever.” The young woman’s freckled face beamed.
“It is, isn’t it?” Seren sighed as she envisioned sitting with the ghost of her mother and sharing the feast. “Will you gather treats for me, I am off to visit my mam’scairn for Samhain?“ Her throat tightened. Seren’s father had died in battle with the Silures, when she was young, leaving her mother to care for her.
Today, ten months after her mother’s death, she would sup with, talk to, and spend time with her again.
“We have oat cakes, druidess and fresh, juicy apples.” A maiden with long nut-brown hair handed her a wicker basket.
Seren peeked inside at the shiny red apples, crispy oat cakes, plump black pudding links, fat turnips, wild carrots, and handfuls of roasted hazelnuts.
“Druidess, tell me, do you have someone special to couple with around the bonfire this night?”
“No, I need to bring this fare to my mother.” Seren shrugged. She would like to share this night with a handsome man, but as the druidess her days were full with serving the tribe. With little time to kindle a romance, she longed for love, but mayhap it was not meant to be. “What of you?”
“Yes, I will spend the eve with Hywell. He and I shall hand-fast soon.”
“Blessings upon you. He is a good man, a brave warrior.” Seren pulled the white hood of her druid robe over her head. “I need to hasten to my mother’s cairn. Happy Samhain to you.”
“And you, Druidess, as well.” The young woman’s mouth curled up into a bright smile. “Here, for your trek into the dark woods.”
Seren took the lit torch from the freckle-faced maiden. With the basket looped through her arm and a firebrand in hand, she set out for the forest.

And here’s a Samhain or New Year excerpt from my Celtic/Paranormal/Romance, Druid Bride:

Excerpt:
As a yearly tribute to the dead, the New Year’s feast insured the gods saw the tribe through the hard winter. It had to be perfect, and it fell on her shoulders. Not to mention, she’d never put on a Samhain feast alone. Sulwen and Rhys always did it, and she merely helped. She began to relax, taking deep breaths as she strolled to the pasture where the cattle grazed. Tanwen walked through the herd and selected the cows to slaughter for the fire festival.
Then, she headed to the chief’s wheelhouse. “Good morning, Ciniatha. Have you chosen the nine maidens to cook the feast?”
“Yes, we just came from the garden. Come see.”
Though too busy to take the time to squeeze and smell the fruits and vegetables, Tanwen deemed they looked ripe. The bright, red apples appeared sweet and juicy, and the oblong, yellowish, purple-capped turnips were fat and sure to be crisp and filling.
Tanwen’s nose wiggled at the strong smell of the long, green leeks. “You’ve done well. I can tell this is the best of the harvest.”
“And taste this.” Ciniatha held out a spoon of yellow butter.
Tanwen glanced to the corner where two maidens pumped wooden churns. She dipped her finger into the spoon of butter and popped it into her mouth. So creamy and sweet. Rich. “It is good enough for the gods.” After licking her finger, she ran her tongue over her lips to get every dab. “Delicious.”
As she inhaled the mellow scent of fresh baked bread, she imagined the taste of a soft, warm slice with the soft butter. She had to leave before she started eating the food intended for the feast.
“I see all is well here.” She smiled at the chief’s wife. “There will be plenty of bread for the visiting spirits.” Tanwen turned to leave.
Ciniatha called after her. “Did you see Brude today?”
“Yes, he’s hunting boar for the feast. Now that we have caught each other, we have no time to spend together. There are feasts and battles, but after Samhain, there should be more time for us.”
“You have much to do. You are a druid. And rest assured, I have the fare for the feast well in hand.” She flashed a sweet smile at Tanwen. “Calach and I welcome you into the family. My son is making a wise choice.”
“My thanks.” She reached out and hugged Ciniatha, though Brude was still on her mind. Did he still feel that way? He seemed so disappointed about the hunt. She released her mother–to-be by marriage, smiled, then turned and continued the many tasks she’d set aside for that day.
After she ate the evening meal that Huctia brewed over the central fire of her wheelhouse, Tanwen laid on her pallet. Exhausted, she fell into a heavy sleep.

Of course us modern day folk like to party at New Year’s Eve too. So here’s a partying excerpt from The Wolf and the Druidess as the ancient Celts bring in their New Year.
Excerpt:
After the nine warriors had made many a trek up the hill, a bonfire towered before Seren. Chief Neithon handed her a firebrand to light it. The bard of the tribe came forward with harp in hand and strummed a lilting tune as the fire roared in a bright blaze.

Seren raised her hands high, twirling and chanting. “Fire sparks, veil parts, ancestors come near, feast, dance, sing with us here. Great powers abound. Circle comes round. All hail Samhain.”
The roar of the blaze, the cheering crowd, and the magic of Samhain rushed through her like an inferno. Seren slipped off her white gold-speckled robe, which had been woven by her mother and was the last gift from her before she died. Seren longed to see her once more. She tossed the garment to one of the women
to hold for her.
One of the nine maidens, Elund, beat the goatskin drum in a savage rhythm. Seren’s skin felt as hot as the fire as she moved in a swaying motion. Needing to bare her body for the gods, she danced to, she untied her hemp belt and her plaid skirt dropped to the dirt. She yanked her red tunic off and threw it down. The haunting twitter of the pipes and the ethereal tone of the harp joined the bodhran in the jubilant song of Samhain.

I wish each of you a happy and prosperous New Year.

Happy New Year,

Cornelia Amiri