Showing posts with label paranormal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paranormal. Show all posts

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Lost Paradise, Promise Me Series Book #8, is OUT!



Blurb: While the vampire Devlin rejoices at news of his impending progeny with Sar, werecougar Theo braces for more challenges to his Ranked title, content that after Sarelle has the dhamphir child Devlin will be out of their lives forever. Yet when The Lust reappears, Sar’s world again turns upside down as old hatreds make themselves known, resulting in a steamy affair with the weresnake Lash, a new friendship with the werecoyote Serena, and the severing of Sar from the last remains of her old human life in favor of a new Paradise with Devlin.

Excerpt: Devlin skimmed the papers, then slowly looked down at me. “Is he sure?” he said joyously. “There’s no mistake?”
“Yes,” I said happily. “You’re going to be a father.”

Devlin hugged me tightly, then lifted me in the air as he whirled me around a few times, laughing, smiling radiantly.

“Congratulations,” Lash said, giving him a wide smile.
 Devlin hugged him fiercely.
“We have to celebrate,” Devlin said, turning from Lash to me.
“Let’s go out!”
“Davy’s?” Lash suggested.

Devlin looked at him, then said carefully, “Do you mind?”

“Cin has left the state,” Lash said with a shrug. “I don’t mind.”
I
I looked at the floor uncomfortably. Cin had been a weresnake waitress at Davy’s, and Lash’s lover. Their breakup had been precipitated by his one liaison with me, which had led to his discovery of Cin’s unfaithfulness to him through sordid means that had affected me. He and I had never talked of it, after his apology...
Don’t think about that.
“Davy’s it is.” Devlin turned back to me. “Does Danial know?”
I forced a smile. “You’re the first to know,” I said warmly, hugging him again. “I came straight here from Dr. Camlyn’s. No one else knows except Serena and Lash.”
“Good!” Devlin shouted with glee. “I want to be the one to tell him.” He pulled me close, then lovingly sang, “Here is all I need!”
“A book of verses underneath the bough,

A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and Thou,

Beside me singing in the Wilderness,

Oh, such a Wilderness would be Paradise enow!”

I gave him a giddy smile, happy that he was so happy. “Your own creation, Dev?”

He shook his head. “From the Rubaiyat.” He offered his arm. “Come, Sar.This night will be filled with many songs, all of them in your honor.”


Buy Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lost-Paradise-Promise-Tara-Hall-ebook/dp/B00J88AJDS/
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Lost-Paradise-Promise-Tara-Hall-ebook/dp/B00J88AJDS/
Melange Books (PDF and HTML): http://www.melange-books.com/authors/tarafoxhall/lostparadise.html
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/421264
Lulu (print copies): http://www.lulu.com/shop/tara-fox-hall/lost-paradise/paperback/product-21541276.html



Saturday, February 22, 2014

Devlin Dalcon on Trial for his actions in the Promise Me Series

(A courtroom that is oddly empty, save for a tall brunette woman in a tailored suit and heels as plaintiff, a tall handsome blond man in an Armani grey suit as defendant, an older woman judge, a mixed jury, and a short man in black near the door. The plaintiff’s expression is venomous, as is the countenance of the man in black. The blond defendant’s face carries an easy smile, but his eyes glitter with anger. The judge’s face is stern as she picks up her paper.)

Judge: Mr. Devlin Dalcon, you have been summoned here to stand trial for your actions in the latest Promise Me book, Taken for His Own. Now that the District Attorney of Supernatural Affairs has presented all her evidence, do you have anything to say for yourself?

Devlin: <stands, with hands in pockets> Of course. This is all a farce. You have no case.

DA: Objection!

Judge: Sustained. Mr. Dalcon, if you have any witnesses to call or any evidence to present, please do so now.

Devlin: There is no evidence; how could there be? The only ones who really know what happened are Sar and myself. <sneers> You were put up to this by Sar’s doctor, weren’t you? His examination found nothing—

DA: Objection! Who reported the violation is not relevant. We’ve already clearly established that Sar was very anemic after her encounter with Devlin—

Devlin: Of course she was. I drank some of her blood, as she asked me to. <looks over with a seductive smile at DA> I always aim to please my lovers.

Judge:  Enough, Mr. Dalcon. Now do you have anything to say in your defense or not?

Devlin:  <stands> Yes. <he walks out from behind the desk and then leans back on it, facing the jury> You have charged me with coercing Sar into a relationship—

DA: A sexual encounter.

Devlin: <glaring at DA> A sexual relationship, admittedly, but one we both desired. And yes, I do have evidence to that. <motions to the man in black> Lash, please take the stand. <The man in black narrows his eyes, but does as requested, including swearing to tell the truth>

Devlin: Tell them what you made me agree to close to a hundred years ago, as a condition of our friendship and working relationship.
Lash: I told you I wouldn’t have any part of hurting women. And I told you if you ever did it again, I’d quit our friendship and your employ.

DA: <incredulous> You expect us to believe the word of a weresnake?

Lash: <hisses, his eyes shifting briefly to snake then back to human> It’s the truth, lady. And as far as I know, Devlin never broke his word on that. <smiles nastily> He never has to. Your sex falls all over yourselves trying to get into his pants.

Judge: <bangs gavel> Enough! Please step down, Mr. Lash. <looks to Devlin> The word of your best friend and a known assassin is not sufficient evidence.

Devlin: Then how about from Sar herself? Read page 189 of Taken for His Own. It’s all there, that she’s not sorry we took our relationship to the next level. Hell, read the series! It’s all there in the pages, how she wanted me all along! That woman reeked of her desire every time I was around her!

DA: <jumps up> Objection! A woman can desire a man and retain her right to refuse his advances. We are not in the 1900’s, Mr. Dalcon.

Devlin: <smiles> Alas, as you are definitely a shrew that needs taming—

Judge: <strident and angry> Mr. Dalcon, one more comment like that and you’ll be held in contempt. Am I making myself clear?

Devlin: Of course.

Judge: Your rebuttal that she wanted you cannot be proven. The law says that a woman reserves the right to change her mind.

Devlin: Very well. Then I offer you the hard data that my brother Danial used to show Sar that her actions were not coerced at all. Pages 219-220. Firstly, Sar has some special feature about her that allowed her to bear a vampire’s child for my brother. Dr. Camlyn is researching the data he collected now. We believe that the cause is something rare in her blood: whatever causes it to be so unnaturally fresh and sweet compared to usual human blood—

DA: Objection. We do not need to hear about the virtues of the victim’s blood—

Devlin: <suddenly angry> I tell you there is something different about her blood, and about her! My point here is that making her a vampire would destroy that forever. There is no way I would logically do that, not for any reason! Well, unless Sar were dying and I had to turn her into a vampire to save her from certain death.

DA: Objection, counsel just perjured himself.

Devlin: <very angry> I care about her. I know how she feels about being mortal. No one responsible makes vampires on a whim. <Brings a thick book up to the judge> This is the vampire handbook. I was one of its coauthors close to 200 years ago. It is forbidden worldwide to make someone vampire against their will. I’ve enforced that rule since its enactment. I, along with my brother Danial, was forced to become a vampire.

DA: <sifting through her papers> Isn’t turning something you’ve done as punishment to vampire hunters in the past? <gives Devlin a malicious look> And to their families?

Devlin: Yes, on occasion. But you’re taking the rule out of context. That rule was meant to protect innocent humans from being turned by irresponsible vampires. Hunters who attack vampires are fair game for reprisal. I don’t need to be wounded first to strike a fatal return blow, if I see someone is intent on killing me.

Judge: Understandable if not exactly something I can empathize with, Mr. Dalcon. Do you have anything else to offer?

Devlin:  One final argument: that all of the Promise Me books to date are from Sar’s point of view alone. We don’t know anything that she does not, at this point in the series. Therefore, if she chooses to exclude something, readers don’t know about it.

Judge: What exactly are you saying?

Devlin: That Sar is bound by mortal laws, and she wants readers to like her. She is also married to Theo. Admitting that she wanted me and we made love immediately jeopardizes her standing with readers. That is why she has no answer for all of the logical arguments about why she didn’t find a way not to give into my desire. <tone softens> The real reason is that she had desire of her own, and it was to be with me.

Judge: This might be the most logical thing you’ve said so far, Mr. Dalcon. However, like your previous evidence, this also cannot be proved.

Devlin: The only truth here, Your Honor, is that your court has no power over me. As a vampire, I am subject to my brother’s rule, not yours. He is a Vampire Lord. If punishment is given, it will come from his hand. And his assessment of the situation is that I am blameless. <sits down> As I’ve said, this trial is a farce.

Judge: <grimaces> I declare this a mistrial. <bangs gavel>

DA: <jumps to her feet> Your Honor, you can’t believe that this vampire—

Judge:  What I believe is that of all Sar’s romantic interests, Danial both loves her best and understands her the most. He also likely knows his brother better than we do. Mr. Dalcon is right, that his brother has declined to punish him. That evidence is known as the truth to anyone who follows the series, and it does cast light that there is much more to this situation than we have been made aware of. <turns to Devlin> I understand that Sar is experiencing the symptoms of turning at the close of Taken for His Own. Would you say that this is the cause for her behavior?

<DA glares at judge, gathers her papers, and leaves. Jury files out, some of them arguing Devlin’s and Sar’s guilt and innocence>

Devlin: <worried> Possibly. If that’s the case Sar has a real battle in front of her. Almost all humans that begin to turn into vampires complete the transformation eventually.  I’ve been consulting with my brother on how best to handle the situation. Danial and his sorcerer Terian have come up with a daring solution, but it’s got to have Theo’s approval, which Danial is still waiting for.

Judge: Then I suppose I should offer your brother and Sar good luck. <sternly> And I don’t want to see you back here again, Mr. Dalcon. Understand?

Devlin: <bows> It is much appreciated. And yes, I’ll do my best not to return to see you too soon. <grins> Adieu. <turns and strides toward Lash as set fades to black>

Read the 5th installment of the Promise Me Series, Her Secret: 


Blurb:  In a desperate effort to halt her transformation to vampire, and stop her longing for the sultry Devlin, Sarelle willingly takes a drug to kill her desire, even as Danial prepares for the introduction of their son Theoron at a Vampire Gathering on New Years Eve. Faced with Theo’s betrayal at the eleventh hour, Sarelle must either trust in Danial to save her, or join forces with Devlin, revealing her secret desire for him.

Excerpt: The clock chimed eleven. Worried, I glanced outside, wondering if Aran would call to cancel. He’d said he’d be going by on an errand for Cia, but the sky was dull white now. The impending storm forecasted for noon might begin at any moment.
            There was no sign of him.
            We were supposed to get a foot or more, something that irritated me. We’d gotten three feet so far this season. With no warm days to melt any of it, the drifts were huge, surrounding the plowed driveway like tall mountains.
            I let out a yawn, blinking my eyes. With the completion of the cookies, despite my eagerness earlier, my utmost desire was a long nap under a warm blanket. Grinning, I made a deal with myself that as soon as the snow flew, the couch was where I was headed. Until then, I needed to keep on track. I hurriedly did some light cleaning and laundry. I was just putting the vacuum cleaner away when the clock chimed twelve.
I cast a look outside. Snowflakes had begun to fall. Soon, they were falling fast and furiously, obscuring my view of the barn.
            “C’mon, Aran,” I said, scanning the drive. “You don’t get here shortly, I’m walking down those cookies to the mailbox and you can eat them frozen.”
            All of a sudden, the snow-dampened roar of a motorcycle was heard in the silence. Aran drove down the driveway, his lone headlight catching the snowflakes in its circular light as they fell. He was dressed in his usual black leather.
            “You’re crazy,” I muttered, throwing cookies into a plastic bag quickly. “Maybe werefoxes don’t get as cold as normal humans did, but you still have to be cold in that.” I closed the bag, then headed for the front door. “At least it’s something between you and the pavement.”
            Aran pulled up in front of the deck and parked the bike, but didn’t turn it off. He faced the house for a moment. As I opened the door, he gestured around him, then pointed to my house.
            I opened the door and yelled to him, “Sure, you can stay ‘til it stops. I’m glad of the company. Go to the bottom garage, I’ll let you in!”
            He nodded, the visor of his helmet and his shoulders already covered in snow. He drove on as I shut the front door and ran downstairs. Pressing the button, I raised the overhead door and he drove in.
            Shivering in the cold blast from the door, I quickly shut it as he parked his Harley and shut off the engine. He began brushing the snow off himself.
            “Why’d you bring the bike today of all days?” I said, giving him a sarcastic smile. “I told you it was going to storm. Now you’re stuck here. Cia’s not going to be happy.”
            Aran got off his bike and continued to brush him and it off, melting snow creating puddles on the concrete floor.
            “Why don’t you give me your coat, and I’ll put it near the fire. If you want, we can watch a movie or something. I was planning to head to the couch any—”
            Aran unbuckled his helmet and in one smooth motion pulled it off his head. Gold curls and waves fell almost to his shoulders.
            This was not Aran.
            This was Devlin.
            He stepped off the bike, and came toward me. I was lost from the moment I looked into his golden eyes.

Buy Links:
Melange Books (PDF, print-Lulu, and HTML):  http://www.melange-books.com/authors/tarafoxhall/hersecret.html


Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Stalking You Now Available from Hazardous Encounters!

Happy Winter to you! I'm here today to celebrate the recent release Stalking You, my first erotica short of the paranormal variety from Hazardous Encounters, a new imprint from Hazardous Press! 

If you've always wanted to sample my work, this sexy tale is a perfect short at .49 cents (or .99 cents from Amazon)! 

"When the hunter becomes the hunted, there is nowhere to run."



Without further ado, here is a little more information to whet your appetite!

Blurb: A woman on the run from the man who killed her family stops, against her better judgment, to lose herself in a night of passion. When her stalker finds them, the hunter becomes the hunted.

Excerpt:

            Maggie shoved through the bramble thicket, the sharp thorns piercing her jeans and shirt, sticking into her bare arms. With a yank she tore free, feeling the sharp stinging of fresh wounds.
            Keep going! You stop now and you’re dead like the others.
            Breathing hard, the ache in her lungs fierce, Maggie leaned against a tree trunk, her exhaled frantic gasps making white plumes in the dim light, and listened.
            For a few seconds, there was no sound. Then came the harsh cracks of breaking branches, the thrashing noise of stalking legs through the carpet of dead leaves growing steadily closer.
            Maggie drew a hitching breath, and began to run.
            He’ll kill me when he finds me. So I can’t let him find me. Ever.
***
            Maggie stared at the new student in her Literature 101 night class, trying to place him. There was something familiar about him. Had he been in one of her other college classes?
            As if he could feel her stare, the dark haired man suddenly looked up, his gaze meeting hers. Instead of looking away, Maggie stared back boldly, making her interest known, hoping for a welcoming smile. But the man only watched her a moment with his dispassionate, dark hazel eyes, then resumed looking at his textbook.
            Intrigued, Maggie watched him surreptitiously for the rest of class. Unfortunately, her interest was not as furtive as she believed.
            “Miss Gentry?” Her professor’s mocking tones broke into Maggie’s thoughts, startling her. “Would you elaborate on tonight’s topic, if you can tear yourself away from Mr. Hayes?”
            You’re getting yourself noticed, attention you can’t afford. Flushing, Maggie cleared her throat. “Blanche’s motivations were denial and lust. She was so unable to cope with her fate that she kept losing herself in fantasy.”
            “Fair enough,” the professor nodded, then turned his attention to the class. “Everyone, your papers on the relationship between sex and death in A Streetcar Named Desire are due a week from Monday. Class dismissed.”
            Maggie remained seated, looking down, nursing her embarrassment, while most of the class filtered out. She raised her head just in time to see Mr. Hayes slipping out through the door. Taking a breath for courage, she hurried after him.
            Reaching the door, she looked at the crowd of students that were retreating down the hall, but he was not among them. Where had he gone?
            A footstep sounded to her right. She turned, startled, looking at the end of the dimly lit hall, her lips parted. No one was there.
            But what if he is down there? Now is the perfect time to catch him alone.
            Maggie let out an anticipatory breath, then headed into the darkness, her sneakers silent on the floor tiles. She rounded the corner, and came face to face with Mr. Hayes, who was leaning against the wall watching her; the look in his eyes deep and unfathomable.
            “Hi,” Maggie stammered.
            “You were watching me,” he said, in measured tones that made her shiver with wanting.
            You’ve never been afraid in your life, not about this. Don’t start now. Maggie stepped closer, right in front of him. “Yes, I was.”
            She waited, her heart racing, for him to say something, anything. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, tipping his head, and kissed her. It was a gentle kiss, careful to the point of being chaste. Yet the sheer heat of it burned through Maggie’s body, unleashing all of her hunger.
            Maggie reached up with her right hand and clasped the nape of his neck, her lips devouring his, her left arm circling his waist to pull him closer. He responded with a groan, his arms pulling her close, molding his body to hers. Maggie lost herself in sensation, only drawing back finally to take a ragged breath of air.
            “What’s your name?” she asked.
            “Lucas,” he said, his tone filled with heat. He turned his head, kissing her hand, then nibbling it with his teeth. “I already know yours….Maggie Gentry.”
            A thrill of lust went through Maggie. “How?”
            Lucas gave her a smile. “Do you think I was in that class tonight by accident? I wanted to meet you, Maggie.”
            Maggie fought to take a breath, her excitement making her lightheaded. “Why?”
            “Because we’re the same,” he said, holding her possessively. “I know you feel it, too.”
            Maggie shuddered, a sudden feeling of fear constricting her chest. Was this some kind of trap? Could she trust him?
            “Shh,” Lucas murmured into her hair. “I can smell your fear.” He breathed in deeply, nuzzling her.
            “I’m not afraid of you,” Maggie said boldly.
            “Maybe not,” Lucas whispered. “Maybe you’re afraid of your own desire.” His kisses trailed down along her throat.
            What I’m afraid of, you wouldn’t understand. Maggie shoved back from him, her expression angry. “I’m not afraid, Lucas. I’m the one that came after you.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Would you have even said hello to me tonight? How long would it have taken for something to happen, if I hadn’t bridged the gap?”
            Lucas gave a small smile. “I had to know you were interested first, Maggie.” His smile widened. “Now I do.”
            Damn his arrogance, he was still arousing her. Time to call his bluff. “Are you going to do anything about it or not?”
            “Oh, yes,” Lucas said lightly. “If you meet me tonight, close to midnight, in the campus nature preserve. Near the bridge.” He kissed her cheek, then walked past her down the hallway.
            I’d prefer a bed. But hell, a romp in the night woods would be a new experience. “Should I bring a blanket?”
            “Just yourself,” Lucas said without turning. “With me, that’s all that you’ll need.”



Buy Links:



Saturday, October 17, 2009

The Paranormal in my fiction



Paranormal elements creep into almost all of my fiction. Why? Because eerie, hair standing up on the back of the neck moments do happen in life, Also because I place my characters into strange situations and unusual settings, where their senses are heightened to an almost supernatural state.
In real life, people can experience extraordinary things. A woman I know of was passing a man on a staircase and a thought entered her mind: this is the man you are going to marry. She dismissed the idea as absurd - but it happened and they are still married. In life, people under stress can do extraordinary, almost superhuman things. The woman after a car crash lifting an engine block to free her trapped child beneath. We can all experience feelings of disquiet, of something being 'off'. We can all have dreams which can stalk us.
This is very much the stuff of fiction. Romance especially lends itself to the paranormal and supernatural. When we are in love we feel to be in a transfigured state: all senses and emotions are heightened. In addition, I write romantic suspense, where my characters are in danger and those warning senses we have are on high alert. I also write romance set in the past, at times in the far distant past, where beliefs in spirits, strange creatures, omens and gods were part of everyday life.
In modern life we tend to separate religion and state. In the past belief in supernatural forces, particularly malign supernatural forces, was far stronger. How else could people in the ancient world make sense of what happened to them and around them? When the causes of illness were not understood it would seem logical that an outside influence - an angry god or an evil spirit - had targeted that person or that animal.
Belief is a powerful force. If a character believes he or she can do something out of the ordinary, then sometimes they can. In my historical fiction I use the beliefs of my characters to allow them to tap into something larger than themselves. This 'something' can be a thing of delight or of terror. It is the wonder of the story-teller, used in tales before humans devised writing. And when we did begin to write, ghost stories, paranormal stories 'spooky' stories, were among the earliest tales we committed to clay, papyrus or parchment.
Here are a few paranormal moments from my novels. The first is based on an ancient Roman ghost story of a haunted house, which I adapted to use in 'Flavia's Secret'. In this excerpt, the paranormal is used to show wonder and delight in a special, secret place; a place where Flavia finds the strength to tell Marcus her own deadly secret.

EXCERPT:

Walking quickly, to show that she did not regret her decision to share this place with him, Flavia returned along the twisting beaten-earth path between the rampant rosemary and lavender bushes. One more twist of the path and they reached the heart of the garden and its startling secret—a private outdoor pool, its shimmering waters steaming in the sun.
‘By Mithras, what a place.’ Looking around, Marcus halted beside her, dropping onto his knees to test the waters of the deep, lead-lined pool. ‘It’s hot!’ he exclaimed, shaking moisture from his hand.
Flavia pointed to a large lead pipe leading away from the pool in the direction of the deserted house before it was lost in the luxuriant undergrowth.
‘We think the owner fixed a conduit somewhere off the spring waters of the Aesculapius spring and directed some of the thermal water here,’ she explained. ‘The pool drains somewhere, too, but we do not know where.’
Marcus sat back on his heels. ‘We?’
‘Those of us who come here, when we can.’
‘Your own private bathing place.’ Marcus jumped to his feet again and walked around the marbled perimeter of the pool. ‘I am surprised nobody has tried to make money with it.’
‘We are careful who we tell,’ Flavia said, squashing disappointment at Marcus’ mercenary approach, but he was staring across the sun-gilded water at the leaf-strewn timber portico leading to the deserted house.
‘I am not surprised at that,’ he said quietly. ‘It is beautiful.’
He watched a small breeze tumble a bronze oak leaf along a small marble walkway leading from the semi-derelict portico to the edge of the pool. ‘Mysterious, quite eerie, but also...comforting. As if you are in an entirely different world.’ He turned about, pointing to the sparkling spiders’ webs on the lavender bushes, rimed with heavy dew. ‘Somewhere forgotten by the rest of the city. A place where magical things become possible.’
‘You understand,’ Flavia whispered, breathing out in relief.
He smiled. ‘It is more than likely that the old owner saw an easy chance to grab some free hot water, but what he has made here, what time has made...I am not surprised he was thought to be a sorcerer.’
Marcus held out both hands to her. ‘Thank you for sharing this, and be assured—your secret with be safe in my keeping.’
Flavia walked to the edge of the secret pool and joined him in studying the waters.


In 'Bronze Lighting,' set in Bronze Age Europe, many characters believe in and practice magic. Here Fearn and Sarmatia, hero and heroine, are taking part in a sky ritual, a dangerous rite that they believe may unmask a murderer.

EXCERPT:

By this time it was early evening. A pall of dark clouds had gathered over the Sacred Hill. The sun hung over the eastern hills like a bloodstained shield. Fearn looked up at the sky.
'The God will come here when I summon him and we must be ready. Each of you strip off your gold, your silver and bronze. The Sky God does not like the gleam of metal on others.'
He lifted the bronze diadem from his head and laid it on the grass. 'Pile your ornaments here together. Give it to the earth for safekeeping. Quickly!'
At his command, Atterians broke their circle and came to heap their metal broaches, swords, arrows, arm-rings and finger-rings upon the King's diadem. Sarmatia watched Laerimmer take off his golden throat disc and glanced down at her own bronze ring, reluctant to remove it. Looking up, she saw Fearn walking towards her.
'Must I take off my ring?' she asked in Kretan as he reached her. Fearn answered in the same tongue.
'I fear so, Sarmatia.' He looked at her. Men were still gathered about the growing heap of metal. He and Sarmatia had a moment together.
'What is this ritual?'
'Nothing you need fear, Sarmatia. The Sky God knows our hearts. He does not touch those who are innocent. Twice now as King I've been asked to do this rite. The God may take some of our metal as sacrifice and payment, but that's a small thing for the truth.'
Sarmatia took off her bronze ring and gave it to Fearn. 'You must put this with the rest, Fearn. I can't.’ Then, although she already sensed the answer, she asked, 'Is the Sky God the same whose shrine is the Great Stone Circle?'
'It's the same God. And this is the rite the southern kingdoms have forgotten.' He turned and left her.


There are gods in my novels, too. In 'Blue Gold' the gods of ancient Egypt watch mankind from the sun-boat that crosses the sky each day and they sometimes interfere more directly.

EXCERPT:

“What happens now?” asked Astarte-with-the-moon-in-her-hair.
The eastern goddess of love was paying another visit to the sun boat of Ra. She thought the climate good for her complexion.
The blue god Amun, casting an admiring glance at the silver-haired goddess’s shapely long legs, mumbled something about a race. He ran his hands through a thick fleece of cloud, parting it with his fingers. “Look below us. There is my Pharaoh, a true Egyptian.”
“Ah yes. Sekenenre. The king who toils like an ant. He certainly looks to be making haste.”
Astarte leaned forward, the corners of her eyes crinkling at the sight of Sekenenre and his retinue of priests running their chariots again and again at the same high dune instead of doing the sensible thing of going round it. At her high vantage point, the fifteen chariots moving with such fanatical haste from the small water course where they had hidden their ship looked bizarre, like weevils.
No one on the sun boat reproved or remarked on the goddess’s comments. Those long, shapely legs were even better when she bent over the gunwale. From the middle of the boat came a muffled exclamation as the soul of the long dead Pharaoh Unas dropped the sun god’s fan.
“Fool of a mortal,” said old Ra sharply, squirming on his throne, crossing hands over thighs.
Astarte looked round over one shoulder and smiled, but she reserved her warmest look for Amun. “He is a long way from Thebes, your Sek-en-enre. Did you send a dream to instruct him? Does this true Egyptian know where he is going?”
“Pay no attention to anything Amun says. Sekenenre’s dash into the desert is due entirely to me.” Set materialized at her elbow. He directed Astarte to look over the other side of the boat. “Here’s my man.”
Aweserre’s chariot scuttled jauntily along below them.


In ‘Blue Gold’ when these two pharaohs meet, it is a clash of arms, force and beliefs and it leads to the unleashing of more paranormal forces.

Happy Halloween!

Lindsay

Saturday, September 20, 2008

New stories at Free Romance Fiction.com

I'm excited to announce we have our first free stories at Free Romance Fiction! Squeeee! Okay, yeah I'm probably more than excited. LOL Best-selling author Linda Sole, (yes our very own Linda here on the blog) very kindly submitted a historical short to our site, and it's very, very good! We also have an offering from prolific romance writer, jj Keller that is a paranormal romance.

Both stories are high quality, very enjoyable reads that it is definitely worth your time to check out. Plus the stories are available in PDF format rather than on a web page where it has to compete with ads as on many other free romance story websites.

So be sure and check out Linda's story Yo, Ho, Ho, and a Bottle of Rum.

and jj Keller's story A Haunting Song.

I can guarantee you won't be sorry! :-)