Showing posts with label vampire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vampire. Show all posts

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Enter the RaffleCopter to win a Cat Bed plus 3 signed Promise Me Books! New Release Eye of the Storm!



Eye of the Storm, Promise Me Book #10, has released!

Blurb: Sar and Theo move on from Sar’s affair with Lash, struggling to build a new life with their werecougar son Devon. Rebuffed, Lash resumes his solitary existence, biding his time. Ulysses lurks in the shadows launching repeated attacks on his enemy Devlin, whose darker side emerges rampant in an effort to protect those he loves. The vampire Danial prepares his dhamphir son Theoron for manhood, even as Ulysses delivers a last crippling blow to Devlin in his relentless quest for revenge.


Excerpt:
        Lash stepped closer to me, his arms going around me.
“Don’t, please,” I said softly, my weak words so rife with need that I flushed.
“I’m not going to do anything but hug you,” Lash hissed in my ear. “I need to breathe in the scent of you to calm myself. I’m worried about tonight, about letting you go to that damn Hallows party with only Theo to protect you.”
I inhaled his familiar scent, closing my eyes. There came the gentle touch of his hand on the back of my head, gently pushing it against his shoulder as he stroked my hair.
“But there’s no way I can go with you, Danial would shit a brick.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said confidently, trying to step back. “Rip will be there—”
“Fucking demons can’t be trusted!” Lash hissed angrily. “Rip is not a fighter; he’s a sorcerer, like Titus. He’s not fast at all! You’re mortal, Sar! All it would take to kill you is one well-placed bullet!”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” I reiterated. “Devlin will be with me, Lash.”
“That’s the only reason I’m not crashing the party,” Lash hissed meaningfully. “I know he’ll stay close to you at all times, and he’ll keep you safe. Plus I have to watch Venus and Devon while you’re all out in your finest.”
I looked up into his flat eyes, their coldness giving nothing away. “Change back for me.”
Lash’s eyes reverted to their dark black-brown color in a split second, his fangs disappearing. “Why did you ask me to change back?” he said, tilting his head with a faint smile. “Are you remembering that night we—?”
Desire rose in me, mingled with sadness and longing. “I like to see your eyes. I like to look into them. I can see what you’re feeling in your human eyes the way I can’t in your snake ones.”
Lash’s dark brown eyes darkened, his expression changing from curiosity to abject craving. “Tell me I can kiss you,” he said sensuously, taking my face in his hands. “Just one kiss, Sar—”
I looked down at his lips inches away from mine, and ached to taste him, to feel his body against mine as he devoured me…
Stop. Right. Now.

Buy Links:  
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Eye-Storm-Promise-Me-Book-ebook/dp/B00NOHMX6A
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00NOHMX6A
Melange Books (PDF and HTML): http://www.melange-books.com/authors/tarafoxhall/eyeofthestorm.html
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eye-of-the-storm-tara-fox-hall/1120374803?ean=9781612359694
Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/477503
Lulu (print copies): http://www.lulu.com/us/en/shop/tara-fox-hall/eye-of-the-storm/paperback/product-21808111.html

Enter the Rafflecopter to win 3 signed Promise Me Books, and a Catbed!
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/625485ee11/



Thursday, May 8, 2014

Cover Reveal for Night Music, a Promise Me Short Story

Night Music, the popular ultra-romantic short story from the Promise Me Universe, will be launched as its own novella later this month as part of Melange Books' new Imprint, Satin Romance!




At his request, I allowed the vampire Devlin Dalcon to be the one to introduce Night Music. --TFH

LOVE NOTES by Devlin Dalcon

The first sweet notes rise in the air. Anticipation blossoms into pure satisfaction. Everything you have ever hoped for, everything you ever longed for cascades over you, washing away all that was, replacing it with new possibilities of a new beginning. There is nothing but this moment, where everything is deliciously right, everything is faultless. All you ever wanted and needed lies in the crystal clear notes breaking over you, enfolding you in sweet perfection. This is truth, this is pure emotion, beyond what any words could ever convey. You are captive, motionless under its sway until the last echoing notes fade away and are lost to silence. 
Is it any wonder that music is often used to woo the reluctant partner, or seduce the innocent lover-to-be? Not to me, who has used them for centuries, along with my many other wiles. But I am as much captive as captor in my love for music. It is emotion in its purest form. The closest parallel is the act of love itself, that joining of imperfect flesh that creates its own perfect music. Sadly, the act of serenading a lover has fallen to the wayside in this new age of Internet and email. So I penned this short entreaty to draw your attention to a short tale of romance, aptly titled Night Music. It is a true story, a recounting of one of my acquaintances, a fellow vampire by the name of David, and the woman he discovered quite by accident, when he stopped for the night on his way to pay his respects to me.
The lovely Krystin was in perfect condition to be seduced. She had come to a romantic park on vacation, hoping that memories of her past would inspire her life in a new direction. She found that and more, when she awoke in the night to the strains of haunting music echoing though the night air, caressing her bare skin like a lover. It was a given she would seek out David, who had no idea she had heard his late night practice session. Their attraction when they met was immediate, their chemistry undeniable. Yet in his modesty and veracity, David did not press his advantage—foolish, in my opinion. He denied the music was his at all. Lucky for him, Krystin was a woman very capable of pursuing him, and did so, cornering him, and forcing him to open up to her about not just his music, but himself. Ah, I should have loved to watch them consummate their budding love that night, to hear those soft sighs of pleasure found, and smell the enticing scent of lovemaking. The symphony they played together was undoubtedly original, and moving. Alas, that I was not there to join in…alas.
Krystin was no fool; she put two and two together, and concluded that David was a vampire. That he planned to tell her was certain, to my conclusion. He likely was just trying to find a way to do it that didn’t sound crazy. But before he could, another acquaintance came looking for David, and instead discovered Krystin. 
I’ll say no more, lest I spoil the climax of the story, and leave you with a soft nudge to discover its delights for yourself. Thank you for your time, my beloved devotees. I hope to see you again very soon, perhaps in your dreams. 

Blurb for Night Music 

Grieving Krys Markman has come to lose herself in family memories at Letchworth State Park, and try to figure out her next step. Yet the unearthly beautiful music she hears each night stirs her soul to romance. Can its creator, the attractive vampire David Helm, heal her broken heart?

Excerpt: 

Krys walked slowly toward the low stone wall, the roaring of the falls capturing all her attention as she rested her hands on the cold rock slabs. The view was as magnificent as ever; the towering waterfall spanning the wide river, the trails beside it framed with stone and concrete walls more than fifty feet below. The early spring afternoon felt more like late summer, the air balmy and comfortable, even in her T-shirt and jeans. 
Letchworth State Park. The place was exactly the same, but everything was different. Her parents were gone, and now her brother was, too. They’d come here as a foursome every summer and stayed for a week, renting a rough built cabin. It had been bare bones, lacking heat, water, or even a private outhouse. But it had always been a good time to her and Bill: fishing, hiking, playing games, and encountering the wildlife. Each summer, her parents always treated Krys and her brother to one special adventure. For Krys, that had been the whitewater rafting outfit that operated below the lower falls. For her brother, Bill, that had been either horseback riding or a ride over the river via hot air balloon. 
They’d had such good times here…
Pretending to brush back her hair, Krys brushed away a tear, conscious of the many tourists still snapping pictures of the falls. Why had she come here? What had she hoped to find? 
“Excuse me,” an old woman said, tapping her elbow. “But we’d like to get a picture together. Would you take one of us, please?”
Krys nodded, then snapped a few pictures as the couple posed in front of the falls. Handing back the camera, she hurried inside the Glen Iris Inn, calling herself an idiot. Ringing the bell, she waited.
A desk clerk came in quickly. “Can I help you?”
“Krys Markman,” she said. “I’m checking in. I’m staying in Caroline’s Cottage.”
“Please fill this out.” The woman handed her a form. “And I need a credit card to make an imprint.”
Krys handed over her credit card, then took it back a few minutes later, handing in the filled out form.
“Staying with us all week?”
And probably going to rue it, Krys thought miserably. “Yes.”
“Have you stayed with us before?”
“Yes,” Krys said quickly. “I’ll just need one key.”
The woman began reciting the checkout times and other rules, all of which Krys knew by heart. She fidgeted, then grabbed the key, not replying to the startled clerk as she ran outside. A couple jumped back as she nearly banged in to them.
“Hey!” the man said, throwing an arm in front of his wife to shield her. “Watch where you’re going—”
“Sorry,” Krys stammered, flushing.
The couple gave her another dirty look, then walked upstairs hand in hand. Krys sat down in an empty wrought iron chair, rubbing her eyes.
Enough already. This was her vacation, a long break to recoup before embarking on a new chapter in her life. Relaxing was the first step. Walking was out; the lamps scattered around the Glen Iris Inn were coming on. So it would have to be alcohol instead. 
* * * *
Krys sipped her wine flight, while looking around at her setting, marveling that so much was still the same, and still so beautiful. She’d been in these same surroundings so many times, yet they were still magical to her, even as their familiarity soothed her…
“Will you want dinner?” her waiter asked delicately. “Or would you like to try one of the wines you sampled?”
Where had the time gone? Krys had finished all three samples already. While another flight and more reminiscing sounded wonderful, it was better not to tempt fate, not when she had a hell of a climb in the dark to reach her rented house. “Yes.” She chose an entrée at random from the menu, then one of the wines she’d sampled. 
As the waiter walked away, Krys noticed a tall man sitting by himself off in the corner. He was writing something by the light of the table candle. What was compelling was he was doing it in longhand in a small paper book instead of via electronic device. The act was so uncommon that she stared at him. Within a few seconds, the man raised his eyes and caught her staring, his dark eyes meeting hers. Krys immediately looked down, flushing. By the time she gathered enough courage to look up again, the man was gone, his seat empty.
The waiter came back, her wine on a tray. “We’re all out of the salmon, Ma’am,” he said apologetically. “Would you like to choose something else?”
The only craving Krys had was to find out who that handsome man had been. Food could wait. “There was a man sitting out here. Do you know who he was?”
The waiter shifted uneasily. “We’re not allowed to give out information on guests, Ma’am. Sorry.”
“So he is staying here?” Krys said hopefully. “Will he be here a few more days?”
The waited leaned down slightly, his expression secretive. “Aren’t you staying for a few days in Caroline’s Cottage?”
“Yes,” she answered conspiratorially.
“They I’d advise you to get to know your neighbor during your stay,” the waiter said meaningfully. 
Krys looked at him in puzzlement. “What?”
The waiter straightened, then set down her glass of wine. “Will you have another entrée, Ma’am?”
Comprehension dawned. “No,” Krys said, hastily grabbing her purse. “Put my drinks on my bill.”

* * * *


Links for Tara Fox Hall: 
Website: www.tarafoxhall.com
Email: tarafoxhallATgmailDOTcom

Tara's Blog: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5286654.Tara_Fox_Hall/blog

Tara's Facebook Page:
 www.facebook.com/pages/Tara-Fox-Hall/151813374904903

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/TerrorFoxHall


Bio: Tara Fox Hall’s writing credits include nonfiction, erotica, horror, suspense, action-adventure, children’s stories, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She is the author of the paranormal fantasy Lash series and the paranormal romantic drama Promise Me series. Tara divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice. All of her published children’s stories to date are free reads on www.childrens-stories.net.



Links for Letchworth State Park: 
Glen Iris Inn:  http://www.glenirisinn.com/
Caroline’s Cottage:  http://www.glenirisinn.com/accommodations.cfm?dsp=Carolines_Cottage
Friends of Letchworth State Park: www.friendsofletchworth.com

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