Romance (10)

A Twisted Shade Of Green series, book one "Portrayal Of Lust and Revenge", is now at amazon.com, authorhouse.com, barnesandnoble.com. Paperback: $13.99  e-book/kindle: $3.99. Visit website for more details: http://www.emackinn01.com/  

BOOK TEASER AND TRAILER 

Two opposites illustrate how love can conquer hearts of lust, revenge, and deception. Kali Mathias possesses an appetite of lust, and Glen Monroe has a raging spirit for vengeance. And together, Glen and Kali both have deceit souls within. But, love turns one date among two total conflicting hearts into one which requires each other to be alive in the midst of any storm. Through a new-found love, God taught Kali to know that not everything has a price tag; at least, not real love! God taught Glen to realize even love can conquer the grips of a sought-after heart’s revenge!

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My Journey as a Writer

First off, thank you Indie Writer’s Support for giving me this opportunity to air my dirty laundry, well not all of it. I’ll save something for next time.

           Every writer’s journey is fraught with humorous anecdotes, stumbles, pitfalls, and miracles. Yes, it is a journey that perfectly mirrors this adventure we call life, and just like life, you better hold on tight, because as the country western lyric says it’s going to be “one Hell of a ride”.

           I have always been a writer, or at least dabbled in it, whether it be speeches, short stories, poetry, screen treatments, but it was my sideline, not my profession. However, my serious journey began in 2010, when I published In the Face of Evil a historical novel based on my mother’s survival of the Holocaust. I should say self-published, as no one showed any interest in doing it for me. Much of that was due to the lack of editing, and not knowing the publishing business. It took me three years to write, and a stack of rejection notices wasn’t going to stop me from publishing it. Call it beginners luck, but that book became a Finalist in the National Jewish Book Awards. Not bad. Imagine if I would have had it professionally edited? To this day it is one of the highest rated books on Amazon and Goodreads, not easy to maintain with those angry trolls that cruise the virtual world and live and breathe to write abusive one and two-star reviews. Anyway, after toiling, suffering, through one of the darkest times in human history I needed to write something lighter, less taxing on my psyche.

            Just around that time I read this little book entitled Fifty Shades of Grey. Well, it doesn’t get lighter than that. Not a particularly well-written book, but it held my interest. I began to study the romance genre, reading voraciously, everything from paranormal to BDSM. Oh, my goodness those sweaty nights of reading, who wouldn’t be hooked. I was literally infected with the romance germ and the only cure was for me to pass it on through my writing. In February 2014 I self-published (at this point I was fairly turned off by the publishing industry) my first book in the Romance/Sexy/Suspense genre The One, which became the first in my The Only One series. In June, I published The One & More, bringing me to my release with Soul Mate Publishing One More Time is Not Enough. These three-feature explicit sex with very suspenseful stories.

            Then came a publishing contract with Hartwood Publishing and my next two books Escape and Vengeance about an uber Mossad agent and his art curator muse Layla. In this serie,s I toned the sex down and focused more on the suspense and thriller aspects.

            In between I wrote and self-published on June 1, 2018, a romance/thriller/paranormal entitled The Girl Who Knew Da Vinci, which is the first in my Out of Time series. Really excited about this book as its doing phenomenally well.

            Presently I'm finishing my third in my Tip of the Spear series, which will be titled Ransom, before starting the next book in the Out of Time series.

            What I’ve learned along the way could fill a book, however, I have no interest in writing that one. Suffice it to say, I’ve spent a lot of money on poor editing, PR, advertising, the list goes on-and-on. Yes, I’ve sold books in a vacuum, despite myself. What I wanted was a home, a place to hang my hat. Fellow authors to communicate with, share ideas, brainstorm, all of which had been lacking in my creative world.

            My goodness, what an inspiration it is to finally develop a writing family. I have a notebook filled with review site possibilities, book tour companies, raffle copter events, marketing tips, and a whole slew of new Facebook and Twitter friends and my very own, growing with leaps and bounds, newsletter. I’m learning what works and what doesn’t work from writers who’ve walked barefoot over the burning coals and are kind enough to share, preventing me from burning my Tootsies.

            I now have a fabulous critique group and most importantly I have a personal assistant who has changed my life. She’s my editor and marketer and I bless the day I found her.

            My thank-you to all who have come before and who continue to be an inspiration. It just keeps getting better, and the future looks ever so bright.

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What the Heart Wants: Soulmate #1 Prologue

PROLOGUE 

The crescendo of his heartbeat rose in his ears. It began as a low, deep sound of a bass drum accelerating to the medium tone of the tom-tom. It drowned out all other sounds of that glorious day, like the cheerful song of the spring robin. His ears turned deaf to every audible vibration, including the wind rustling through the branches of the willow tree.

Why couldn’t he hear the wind? He could feel each gust tussling his hair. How a few dark strands caught on his stubbled jaw. He would brush it away if he could move. Right now, he didn’t want to move. Nothing mattered. Not the wind or his hair. Not even the birds or the tree. All that mattered stood before him. God help him. Nothing could deter him from his fascination…with her.

His eyes coursed over her delicate features. Chestnut curls. High cheekbones. Full, voluptuous lips…

Calling her beautiful would be unjust. A sin even. Lust came natural to anyone. But with her, it went deeper. She radiated like an angel. Soft. Sweet. Heavenly. It drew him in. Yet her presence, the way it made him shake inside, kept him wanting more.

The breeze blew her ringlets from the nape of her neck. Each swaying lock carried a hint of sandalwood. The same scent rushing through his nose. One more breath and he’d be intoxicated.

Her skin, a soft shade of peaches-and-cream, glistened every time gilded sunrays broke through the swaying branches of the weeping willow.

When he gazed down into her eyes, his breath caught. He tried swallowing the lump in his throat, but his constricted chest held it in place. Her warm, inviting eyes were a rich shade of gold woven with flecks of olive green. She was looking past him to the broken, shale wall surrounding the estate.

Something about the lush green grass and the smell of roses tugged at him. Wasn’t I about to… God, she’s beautiful.

He ignored his duties. Why shouldn’t he? Nothing could be more important than this moment under the willow tree with her, his golden-eyed angel.

His eyes searched hers for proof that she sensed the same magnetic force drawing them together. A force so powerful it was irrefutable as it called to his soul.

He waited for her to meet his gaze, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. The motion captured her attention. Her mesmerizing eyes focused back on his face. He released his breath, exhaling a slow sigh as he watched a smile spread across her lips.

Those lips…

He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. It made his heart hasten when he imagined them pressed to his, allowing him to taste their sweetness.

She stepped in, closing the distance between them. Her eyes descended from his, lingering on his shoulders. He watched in silent awe as her arm stretched toward him. When gentle fingers touched his arm, a line of fire coursed through every nerve, wrapping him in a cloud of desire. He fought against the groan creeping up from his lungs as her fingertips stroked his skin.

Her eyes wandered further down his body, causing his muscles to flinch.

In the passing breaths, his eyes fell to her tiny waist and well-curved hips.

Every single inch—a masterpiece.

He could no longer withhold his desire to touch perfection. Reaching out to her, he hesitated for a heartbeat, but pushed his fears aside. His hand caressed her neck, sweeping slowly up skin as soft as rose petals. Then he cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes, her breath releasing a gentle sigh.

Her subtle reactions affected his soul. He knew women, but not like this. They’d never found the secret chamber that held his heart. Had never come close to touching it. But this beautiful angel in front of him—she knew. She’d not only found his heart, she’d brought it to life, made it race like a river rushing through a canyon. He wanted her more than a rose wanted sunlight. Needed her more than the air he breathed.

A smile played at the corner of her lips. She leaned her cheek against the warmth of his hand, her breath tickling his palm. “Can you feel it?”

Her voice was like a whisper from heaven. He reveled in it. Wanted to bottle it up and keep the sweet sound with him wherever he went.

“Yes,” he breathed out.

She opened her eyes and ran her hands up his arms as he enveloped her in an embrace. Her fingers continued until they met at the back of his neck, interlacing at the nape. The look in her eyes tugged his heartstrings. His hands met at the small of her back, where they stopped and gathered her dress.

Say it. Tell me what your heart wants. I need to hear you say it.

Her lips parted, the words playing there as she stared into his eyes. He braced himself, waiting for those words he wanted to hear. His heart no longer raced. It pounded so fiercely, he thought it would beat out of his chest.

But she didn’t speak.

Let me know those lips.

She leaned closer.

Yes.

His beautiful angel stood on her toes, her lips brushing his in a soft, sweeping motion.

God, yes!

To his dismay, the ecstasy that enveloped them ended. Their sweet moment stolen like a priceless jewel. The heat of her body, of their passion, tore from his soul as she pulled away.

His disappointment consumed him.

Not again.

The tears forming in her eyes glistened as a sunray filtered through the dangling branches. Her bottom lip quivered.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice cracking between words as he brushed a tear from her cheek. He feared that he already knew the answer, yet was still desperate for her to prove him wrong.

“You have to wake up, my sweet,” she said, her voice urgent, desperate.

“I’m not asleep. How can I wake up if I’m not sleeping?” He reached for her, wanting to pull her against him, to bask in the warmth of her touch.

She took a step back, tears sliding down her face, lips turning down in a frown. “You must.”

“No,” he begged. “Don’t go. Stay here with me.” Moisture stung his eyes as he pleaded with her to remain.

His voice betrayed him when nothing more than a whisper passed over his lips. “Stay.”

He reached out to her. This time, when he touched her skin, or what should have been her skin, the warmth was gone. There was nothing.

No!

His heart squeezed. He tried again, reaching for her, but his fingers caressed nothing but air. His eyes widened.

God, no…

Her image weakened. She reached her hand toward his face, as though to stroke it. He couldn’t feel the warmth, just a gentle breeze blowing through his hair.

Though her silhouette faded, her voice carried once more to his ears. “Wake up. Please, wake up…”

His heart grew strained with disappointment as the scenery slowly blurred and vanished. He kicked his legs, trying to ground himself as he tumbled into an abyss of darkness. He searched for something to catch him, to stop his descent into black. Nothing was there.

Suddenly, his body jerked into a sitting position as he gasped. His eyes burned. Bright light reflected off the walls surrounding him.

My angel.

He gazed around the room with desperate eyes.

Where is she?

His heart pounded fiercely as he searched the room.

She has to be here.

He wanted to scream her name, wanted to beg her to return, but couldn’t. He didn’t know her name.

The room spun, or at least he thought it did. Maybe it was his mind. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grabbed his head, holding it with both hands as he tried focusing again. A deep inhale brought the sweet scent of sandalwood to his nose.

Where the hell…

He opened his eyes, again, taking in beige-colored walls, an oak chest of drawers, clothes strewn across the floor. When his eyes settled on a pair of black, snakeskin boots, his heart panged.

Of course. I’m here. But that means—

He was home, in his bedroom, alone.

Falling back into the bed, realization burned his stomach. Another dream…it was just another dream.

There was no golden-eyed angel.

The only thing that remained from the dream was the wicked headache. As much as he wanted to cover his head and never leave the bed, the aspirin in the bathroom called to him.

As he stood, his foot crunched a can that lay on the carpet. His eyes passed over a shimmering blue and white beer can. An empty liquor bottle lay on its side, just two feet away.

No wonder my head is pounding. A hangover. I have a damn hangover.

He laughed, thinking about why he began drinking in the first place. To forget her.

What a joke. Not all the liquor in the world could erase her image from his mind.

Staring aimlessly, his heart grew weary, knowing he would never truly feel skin as soft as satin, never look into eyes as rich as marmalade. His soul grew restless.

She would never be his salvation. Only his tormentor.

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Available on:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/kmWTHW

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/WtHwBn

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/WtHWSW

Kobo: http://bit.ly/WtHwKo

iBooks: http://bit.ly/WtHwiT

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Romance and Football

Romance and Football

A Second Chance Story

By Theresa Hodge

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Drake Peterson and Alyssa Darden met and fell in love while attending Auburn University. Circumstance broke them apart and they lived in different cities until the death of a dear friend brought them back together again in Auburn. Drake Peterson is a man who shows passion on and off the field. He had a passion for his team when he was a defensive lineman and he has a great passion for his family and friends. He’s the type of man that will overcome any and all obstacles for the woman he loves.

     Here is a little peak into Drakes thoughts as he watches and reminisces on his favorite college team, from the stands. The cheers all around Drake set his blood to pumping, as he sits among the vigorous fans.  He thought about how the stadium was named for Ralph “Shug” Jordan, who had the most wins as head coach of the University football team and Cliff Hare, a member of Auburn’s first football team as well as Dean of the Auburn University School of Chemistry and President of the Southern Conference. On November 19, 2005, the playing field at the stadium was named in honor of former Auburn coach Pat Dye. The stadium is now officially known as Pat Dye Field at Jordan-Hare Stadium. All of those facts ran through Drake's mind as he pulled his wife, Alyssa, closer to his side. Shouts of victory rang out loud and clear among fans, students and alumni’s alike. Their opposing team was on the losing end and that was just how the Auburn supporters wanted it.

     Drake Peterson’s glory days were over as a defensive lineman for his favorite college team of all times. But that didn’t stop him from rooting them on towards victory.  He expected great things from the football team this year. They have a tough schedule, but the players are up for it. He knew that if the team stayed focused, healthy and injury free, that we are in for one great season. The great coaching staff is an added bonus.

     “War Eagle,” the shouts and noise was deafening around the stadium. The band began to play the song of victory. “War Eagle,” Drake and Alyssa added their own war cries as the Auburn team won another victory for the Auburn Tigers.

   My name is Theresa Hodge. I am the author of a two-book series titled Ask Me Again (Second Chance). I began writing the first book to battle my depression and grief after losing my sister to breast cancer. This book was my therapy. The characters grew on me the more that I wrote about them. I feel that those characters are a part of me now.

     I hope that you enjoyed this little snippet about me and two of my characters. If  you want to read more about Drake and Alyssa’s journey.  I urge you to get your copy of Ask Me Again book 1 today. Book 2 drops on September 30th. You can find the books on Amazon and Nayberry Publications website. Visit my author page on Amazon.

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4  out of 5 stars

What is it about you stranger?

This is a love story with a mystery at the heart of it, a paranormal mystery.  Why can Ashley Easton speak French so well?  Why can she ride a horse so well, after only riding for just a few weeks?  Who is the mysterious young man she meets in the dressage competition, and why is he so alluring?  A 3rd Time to Die by George A. Bernstein is a love story and a mystery, rolled into one.  It uses the concept of reincarnation as an interesting plot device.


Our first glimpse of Ashley Easton is of a woman rescuing a horse:

"Hey quit that!"  Her shout raspy, she banged the gate with the side of the pitchfork. (p. 25)

The horse has always represented passion and desire in literature, and A 3rd Time to Die is no exception.  Ashley's new horse brings her excitement and energy into her life and allows a new relationship to flourish.  Ashley is revitalised and energised by rescuing the horse; it also brings into sharp relief the way her life has changed. Ashley is an engaging character who knows her own mind and who is financially independent.  She feels a great deal, but takes a long time to act on these feelings: this is Ashley Easton's challenge.  The reader feels the occasional sense of frustration, and is delighted she finally gets herself going.

10916213292?profile=originalAshley’s lover, Craig Thornton is lovely and is everything that Ashley needs and wants: he is the polar opposite to Ashley's husband Keith, and is charming, interesting, fascinated by Ashley, shares her interests, and is caring.  Their relationship changes over time, and as they learn more about each other, their characters develop in surprising and engrossing ways.  A personal fault or two, however, might have helped to make Craig more real.


Craig Thornton is also an interesting contrast to Ashley because his marriage is breaking down, but it's not his fault: his wife is the one who is cheating.  Bernstein thus sets up interesting parallels and contrasts in the relationships.  The two spouses, Keith and Toni, are not pleasant characters.  Keith is a husband totally lost from the relationship: he ignores the children and takes a mistress.  I would have preferred a little more shading to these spouses to add more real complexity of personality: Keith doesn't help with the children, doesn't like anything about his wife anymore, is nasty in his other relationships; but has no redeeming quality.  He is a little too bad to be human.  He seems to have no saving grace: I know Craig is lovely but Keith must have been OK at one  point.


The novel examines relationships. The men and women in A 3rd Time to Die are not just seeking anyone but someone special. In the opening 1895's past-life visionary flashback Charles sees in Victoria, a woman who is "passionate, sensuous and willful" (p. 6).  He loves her for these qualities, and Ashley and Craig are similarly looking for very special traits.

Soul mates are important in this novel - people click and realise they are meant to be together. The website of the Australian Psychological Society says that: "newer fields of psychology, especially transpersonal psychology and ecopsychology, are taking seriously the holistic notion of human beings as comprising mind, body, and soul. These fields propose that people are spiritual beings living a human life that extends beyond our mundane existence and skin-encapsulated ego-self to include direct experience of the environment and the cosmos.  They recognise the importance of integrating spiritual with physical and mental reality, that spirituality is but one part of the whole.” (
http://www.groups.psychology.org.au/tpig/)  The complications of the soul mates and reincarnation that have to be overcome make a really interesting plot device in this novel.  The question of whether Ashley and Craig will survive their love, and who is against them and intends them harm is a gripping question.

 
The last main character is the psychologist Dr Feldman.  He is an interesting character: he's helpful, but indecisive and his eventual insights and understandings moved the plot along.  Feldman is one of Joseph Campbell's helpers. In Monomyth, Cambell explains that:  "For those who have not refused the call, the first encounter of the hero journey is with a protective figure (often a little old crone or old man) who provides the adventurer with amulets against the dragon forces he is about to pass. What such a figure represents is the benign, protecting power of destiny.” (
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monomyth)  Feldman helps Ashley and Craig understand what is happening.  This relationship is a satisfying aspect of the novel.

Ashley and Craig share a love of horse riding. As has been noted, the horse has always represented strong emotions and passionate desires in literature and this is also true in A 3rd Time To Die.  Since D. H. Lawrence, the horse has been a staple representation of sexuality, freedom and power.  Ashley's horse in the novel represents all the freedom of her youth, the regained sexuality that her unfulfilled marriage has stripped from her, as well as links to the past.  A secondary meaning for the horse spirit animal is the balance between the instinctive and tamed parts of your personality.  Ashley is thus more real when she is with her horse, Injun, than when she is in her house.  She feels freer, her speech with Craig is more natural, but she also learns more about herself and the issues that are troubling her: "Jeez, that's when this started!  The sense of riding through woods and whispered thoughts in French.  Nothing as intense as now.  Why the fantasy only haunt her when jumping a horse?" (p. 87).  This is the symbolism of the nature / culture dichotomy.
 
The story’s structure is that of several parts with the first long section establishing the various different relationships.  Ashley spends a considerable amount of time analysing her (hopeless) marriage, before concluding that there is nothing to be done.  This section was long and drawn out.  I wondered why it took so long to get to a resolution of this point.  Once the relationship with Craig was established and Bernstein managed to bring the pair together, the book moved along at a great pace.
In the final section the plot lines are drawn to a satisfying conclusion and the lovers’ relationship and future, and the circumstance of the nemesis are well resolved.  A final catastrophic climax is well done and keeps the reader guessing until the last moment.

The role of money in the novel is interesting: Ashley is well off, thanks to her Father's money.  She uses the processes and systems and makes them work for her to improve her life, rather than just make more money.  This is a positive role for women.

A 3rd Time to Die's main theme is of course reincarnation.  Have these people lived other lives?  Who were they?  Who is after Ashley and Craig now?  Carl Jung believed that in a person's life, synchronicity served a role similar to that of dreams, with the purpose of shifting a person's egocentric conscious thinking to greater wholeness.  Dr. Feldman helps promote this view in the novel.  He is also a psychiatrist using various methods to assist his patients.  Transpersonal psychology is a school of psychology that studies the transpersonal, self-transcendent or spiritual aspects of the human experience.  Transpersonal experiences may be defined as "experiences in which the sense of identity or self extends beyond (trans) the individual or personal to encompass wider aspects of humankind, life, psyche or cosmos."  Issues considered in transpersonal psychology include spiritual self-development, self beyond the ego, peak experiences, mystical experiences, systemic trance and other sublime and/or unusually expanded experiences of living. (
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transpersonal_psychology)  Dr. Feldman moves from a more reductionist view of the mind to a more spiritual, Transpersonal approach and indeed the question of this new ideology and philosophy become central to the book.

A 3rd Time to Die is a love story with a twist, a paranormal mystery with an engaging heroine and plot surprises and developments which were very satisfying.  The characters develop in interesting ways through time and as the novel progresses.  The relationships were interesting and well-drawn.  The plot lines are drawn to a satisfying conclusion, and the lover relationship and mystery of foreboding doom are well resolved.  The conclusion is gripping and the answer is unexpected and pleasingly surprising.  I am happy to rate this book as 4 stars out of 5.

http://goo.gl/Jg40jh  A 3rd Time To Die (Book ed.)

http://goo.gl/eg6sE5  A 3rd Time To Die (Kindle ed.)

http://goo.gl/uTOJg9  George Bernstein (Facebook page)

http://goo.gl/xp0Wvc  George Bernstein (Goodreads page)

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Words of an Angel

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After losing her job at the local newspaper, Rayanne Bradley finally had the time to reach for one of her dreams—writing a book. What should have been an easy task end’s up getting off to a slow start, until the day her muse shows up. Now, whenever the masculine scent of musk mysteriously fills the air, her thoughts flow freely as she types them into what will become her book. As the manuscript unfolds, the mystery deepens and becomes entangled with coincidences. Could this be real? Had she met the long haired, sexy, man of her dreams? Could she believe and trust the words of an angel?

Excerpt:

“Rayanne, I really want to thank you for this evening. I haven’t had such a wonderful night since I moved here,” he said after the waitress left their table.

“I have to agree with you, I’ve really enjoyed myself tonight.” She took another sip from her glass, then placed it back on the table. She was totally surprised when Caliban reached for her hand once it was free from holding the steam-ware. Shivers shot through her as she felt the warmth of his fingers on top of hers, his thumb lightly caressing the crease of her palm.

“There’s just one more thing I want to do before we call it a night,” he said with his deep, masculine voice.

Rayanne tilted her head to the side and looked at him quizzically. “And what would that be, Mr. Tempest?” She watched as he rose from his seat and stood at the side of the table, never letting go of her hand.

“I want to dance with you. Please, would you do me the honor?”

Rayanne couldn’t help but softly chuckle. “Are you serious? Here…now?” She’d never seen anyone ever get up and dance in the restaurant any of the times she’d been there. It just wasn’t that kind of place.

“I’m very serious,” he replied as he lifted her hand, gently tugging, persuading her to her feet. Still holding on to her hand, not giving her a chance to say no, he guided her a few feet away from their table where there was a small clearing. He turned and winked at her, pulling her closer into his embrace so they could dance.

Rayanne didn’t protest. She looked around and saw that the restaurant was practically empty, but saw that the few remaining customers and staff were all now watching them. She could only assume that they had to be thinking they were crazy. She looked up at her partner feeling slightly embarrassed, but the uneasy feeling was quickly replaced as her attention was drawn to the wonderful feeling of Caliban’s warm hand on her lower back as he moved her to the music’s beat.

“I think we’re being watched,” he chuckled, trying to get her to relax when he felt the tension in her body.

“Ya think?”

“Just pretend no one else is in the room except for you and me,” he spoke softly. He let go of her right hand and smoothly wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her just a little closer. He could feel the tension ease from her body as she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked down at her then murmured, “Trust me.”

Rayanne looked up into his dark eyes.  She did trust him that much was certain. With his arms wrapped around her she felt safe; that he wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt her. Without saying a word she inched closer, until their bodies were completely touching as they swayed to the melody. Her left cheek rested on his shoulder, his long dark hair mixing with her own. She closed her eyes and breathed in his sensual, manly scent as the fingers of her right hand involuntarily began to rub his neck at the hair line. The corners of her mouth lifted when she heard the faintest gasp emanate from him. Then she felt his fingers move in a gentle, circular motion on her lower back, rousing an aching need at the very core of her womanhood, a feeling she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“See, now this isn’t so bad, is it?” Caliban asked.

“Mmmm, no it isn’t,” Rayanne sighed. She was lost in the moment and no longer cared what anyone thought of them. The wonderful feelings at that instant far outweighed any criticism from on looking strangers. She turned her head, nuzzling her forehead into his neck. She felt his hold on her tighten slightly, as he brought his cheek down to touch hers. A gesture so normal, yet felt as if she was experiencing the intimacy of dancing for the very first time. She could feel his warm breath brush against her face each time he exhaled, stirring the need—and want, to experience more of his touch.

Available at...

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Unearthed excerpt

Jack Trader crept inside the last of the upstairs rooms, his flashlight gripped in his hand. The rickety floorboards groaned in protest under his weight. Considering the luck he’d had the last few months, the bottom would probably give way.

He forced his concern aside and glanced around. Pink-striped paper, tattered and faded, covered the walls of the only room on this level that showed any sign of use as a bedroom. A female’s.

Could she be the presence in the house? Or was it someone else?

“See anything, Jack?” The voice of his partner, Cody McCoy filled his left ear, the Bluetooth-type hardware transmitting with ease. The ultimate goal for his team was to catch sight of an orb of glowing energy, a sure indicator of paranormal activity.

“I’m in the last of the rooms. Give me a second.” Jack moved to the window, his eyes straining to make out anything that wasn’t illuminated by the light’s stream.

Nothing.

He glanced back toward the door.

Nope. Not a thing to indicate a ghost inhabited the house.

Maybe the reports of the old Martin place being haunted were merely rumor—blown out of proportion by a bunch of overzealous, trespassing kids. It’d hardly be the first time, or the last, for that matter. Jack was disappointed all the same. He needed something to film, or they’d have to write off this trip to the boot hills of Missouri as another wild goose chase. Specter, Inc. couldn’t afford many more of those, especially after losing their funding. A disaster he blamed on himself.

Heaving a sigh of frustration, he started for the door. In the middle of the room, a sudden chill engulfed him.

He stopped.

Was it an apparition or a simple draft?

“Cody,” he whispered, “I walked into a cold spot.” The temperature dipped lower, an arctic blast biting into his skin, and the hairs on his nape bristled.

A sharp, almost inaudible voice uttered, Get out.

Jack’s heart rate spiked.

The stories surrounding the abandoned pig farm claimed the ghost, or ghosts, involved in the haunting weren’t exactly friendly, and this seemed to fit. Those two words sure as hell didn’t sound like a, “Hello, welcome to my humble abode.”

He fumbled in his back pocket and pulled out the Tri-field EMT meter. With steady fingers, he switched the gadget on, and the red needle gave a frantic jump. A current filled the room, caused by no credible power source in the house. According to the Electrical Association’s records, there’d been no electricity running to this home in years—not since the last known resident left.

Now, if they could get their cameras set up in a hurry, they’d see what range of kinetic energy this spirit had.

“Bring up the equipment, Cody. I think we have something.”

“On my way.”

Intending to meet his partner halfway, Jack walked toward the entrance. Wham! The door slammed shut in front of him.

His heart collided with his ribcage. “Son of a...”

When the pace of his heartbeat calmed, he eased closer. He reached for the doorknob and pulled back when his palm made contact with frost. Okay, Jack, ol’ boy. Get a grip. Literally. Prepared for the cold this time, he grasped the knob and twisted, but the door refused to budge. Footsteps thudded on the stairs. Had to be Cody, on his way up.

“Where you at, Jack?”

“I’m in here,” he shouted. “I can’t get the door handle to turn.”

Glass shattered behind him, and Jack pivoted. A grayish, mist-like image hovered next to the now jagged edges in the frame of the window. An icy, gale-force wind whipped the thin sheers hanging from above.

Whoever haunted this house was pissed.

The knob behind him rattled, which prompted his attention toward the door again.

“Jack.” The hitch in Cody’s voice signaled his concern. “You okay in there?”

“We have an angry one.” Jack turned back to the window. The specter had disappeared.

Several bangs erupted from the door, and Cody charged through, his green eyes widening when they landed on the broken glass. “What the hell happened?”

“I guess it doesn’t like company.”

His partner looked around. “It?”

“The apparition I saw next to the window.”

Cody inched closer and held out the equipment bag, awe apparent in his slow stride and his hushed tone. “An actual specter? Was it in solid form, a misty image, or an orb?”

“A gray mist.” Jack reached for the bag. “We need to get everything set up, plugged in, then turn the power on in our van so we can have something to show at the Ghost Hunter’s forum in three months.”

Cody slapped his hands together and rubbed. “I can’t wait to see Giles Holland’s face when we have footage this year. It’s been such a dry spell for us. Hopefully, this will only be the beginning of what’s to come for Specter, Inc..”

Jack smiled. “From your lips to ghost’s ears.”

 

 

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New Member

I have joined today: a few hours ago. I have written eight eBooks and would like to invite member friends to download them free. They are available at Smashwords, Amazon, B&N, Obooko, Lulu.com and a few others. The titles are:

1. The Honey Gatherer - a story set in the deep jungles bordering India and Nepal

2. Aroma Of Orange Pekoe - Snippets and musings spanning the life of Tea & Coffee planters in India & PNG.

3. Laugh Like A Dog - The daughter of a rich Hindu industrialist elopes and marries a poor Anglo Indian boy.

4. To Sweeten Boredom - thirteen gripping short stories to keep you riveted.

5. Episodes Of Ecstasy - Thirteen more unput-downable stories.

6. A Compilation Of Short Stories

7. Travails Of Innocence - A story from rural India of love, God-women, teen pregnancy, honor killing, etc.

8. She Shed A Tear - Love between a Hindu boy and a Muslim woman and its crashing consequences. 

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Paul, a handsome young Greek business executive guides Sophie, a younger ethereal beauty of a Greek Goddess in her Harvard Business School application. They are interested in one another. However, so many questions arise. Will they date, as Sophie has a steady boyfriend for six years, Robert. Also, Paul still has a mad crush on his former girl friend at Harvard, Wendy. Will they fall in love, will he ask her to marry him and will their marriage ever take place, if at all. Many threatening plots against their relationship unravel as they island hop the Greek Isles or jet around the world to Paris, Venice, India, Switzerland, Boston, New York, Cuba, Boston and Vail Co. Robert, Sophie's psychotic ex-boyfriend physically assaults her.  Wendy, Paul's ex girl friend stalks Paul. Sophie’s authoritarian mother constantly interferes in their affair. Paul's, aristocratic and snobbish mother plots to turn the lovers apart. Alain, Paul's classmate from Harvard grossly sexually harasses Sophie. Even Alice, Sophie’s sexy-bombshell sister wants to “share” Paul. Paul is definitely passionately interested...10916207286?profile=original

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