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Charity Parkinson Strikes a Chord

July 31, 2015 by Mia Fox Leave a Comment

Author Charity Parkinson Strikes a Chord with release of “Heart’s Chord.” Read on for details…

Heart's Chord - Banner

BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE –  Heart’s Chord

SERIES –  Ugly Eternity, 5

AUTHOR –  Charity Parkerson

GENRE –  M/M GBLT Romance

PUBLICATION DATE –  July 6, 2015

LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 122/23829

PUBLISHER – Punk & Sissy Publications

COVER ARTIST – Charity Parkerson for Punk & Sissy Publications art department

BOOK SYNOPSIS

Even though he already has more to do than there are hours in the day, Finn has no problem adding Austen to his life. The sexy former marine is the only good thing that’s happened to Finn in a long time.

For Austen, Finn is the perfect man. If he sees anything lacking in Austen, he never shows it. But falling in love with Finn changes everything for Austen. All the insecurities he’s faced since he has come home from deployment confined to a wheelchair come rushing back to the surface. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t let Finn in.

When Finn decides he’s had enough of not being enough, and his dreams come crashing down around him, he’s ready to walk away from everything for good. But he never counted on Austen’s reaction to losing him, or how far his Ugly Eternity family will go to make his dreams a reality.

**Author note**

This is an Ugly Eternity bonus story. It can be read as a standalone.

BUY & TBR LINKS

AMAZON KINDLE US – bit.ly/HeartsChord

AMAZON KINDLE CA – http://bit.ly/HeartsChordCA

AMAZON KINDLE UK – http://bit.ly/HeartsChordUK

AMAZON PAPERBACK –  http://bit.ly/HeartsChordPBA

GOODREADS –  http://bit.ly/HeartsChordGR

EXCERPT

“You need some posters or a mural or something on the ceiling in here,” Finn mused aloud after a few minutes.

“Why’s that?”

Finn squinted at the offending blank ceiling, attempting to picture the perfect art as he answered. “Judging by your incredibly sexy body, you spend a lot of time in here. You need something to focus on. There’re some studies that suggest visual stimuli is directly linked to physical health.”

“What do you think of these studies?”

At the curiosity in Austen’s voice, Finn rolled onto his side and up onto his elbow. His gaze swept down Austen’s body, taking in every hardened line and scar. His cock lengthened as hunger rose inside him. This man was under his skin. There wasn’t one particular attribute he could point to in order to explain his insane desire to touch Austen, but it was there. When he met Austen’s stare, there was no way Finn could hide his desire. “I think a little visual stimulation has never hurt anyone.”

Austen’s mouth quirked in one corner at Finn’s claim. “The view in here is looking pretty damn good right now.”

Finn wanted to kiss him. His lips tingled with longing, but sometimes, Austen didn’t invite Finn’s touch. He didn’t know how to explain it. There were moments when Austen’s expression remained closed, shutting Finn out—times such as now. Tearing himself away from temptation, Finn settled down beside Austen once more, going back to staring into space. “I can’t hang around all day, but maybe I can figure out something else. Maybe there’s a book somewhere about images for every environment.”

He felt Austen tense beside him a split second before Austen’s mouth came down upon his—hard and hot. Surprise gave way to lust in an instant as Finn opened for him. Finn flattened his palms against the floor beside him to keep from reaching for Austen. His skin itched to be closer, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment, and it seemed like he always did somehow.

AUTHOR BIO

Charity Parkerson is an award winning and multi-published author with Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Indie Publishing House LLC, and Punk & Sissy Publications. Born with no filter from her brain to her mouth, she decided to take this odd quirk and insert it in her characters.

*2015 Passionate Plume Finalist for Paranormal Erotica
*Winner of 2, 2014 Readers’ Favorite Awards
*2015 Golden Flogger BDSM Award Finalist
*2013 Readers’ Favorite Award Winner
*2013 Reviewers’ Choice Award Winner
*2012 ARRA Finalist for Favorite Paranormal Romance
*Five-time winner of The Mistress of the Darkpath

AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

Amazon Author Page –  amazon.com/author/charityparkerson

Website/Blog – http://www.charityparkerson.com

Fan email: admin@charityparkerson.com

Facebook –  http://www.facebook.com/authorCharityParkerson

Twitter –  http://www.twitter.com/charityparkerso

Google+ – google.com/+CharityParkersonAuthor

Pinterest – http://www.pinterest.com/authorparkerson/

Tumblr – http://thesinnerauthor.tumblr.com/

Networked Blogs – http://www.networkedblogs.com/blog/the-sinners-series

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4506281.Charity_Parkerson

Shelfari – http://www.shelfari.com/authors/a2942626/Charity-Parkerson/

Others – http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/OurAuthors/CharityParkerson.html

https://www.ellorascave.com/author/charity-parkerson

http://passionateink.org/forum/index.php?showuser=2945

GIVEAWAY!

$10 Amazon gift card

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Filed Under: Authors, Blog Tagged With: Charity Parkinson, ebooks, Heart's Chord, romance

Nicole Hurley-Moore’s Black is the Colour

November 28, 2014 by Mia Fox Leave a Comment

Black Is The Colour - Banner

BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Black is the Colour
SERIES – Tales from the Hearthfire
AUTHOR – Nicole Hurley-Moore
GENRE – Romance – medieval fairytale
PUBLICATION DATE – 27th October, 2014
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 189 pages
COVER ARTIST – Conor Moore

Black is the Colour Cover

 

BOOK SYNOPSIS

Ciana has loved Oran all her life and nothing, not even her father will prevent them from being together. But the Mayor of Stonemark has higher aspirations for his daughter than the village blacksmith. He engages the help of a witch and dark magic to bend Ciana to his will.

Oran knows that he doesn’t deserve Ciana. But their love is stronger than the metal he forges and welds. She has his heart and he will never turn from her no matter the cost.

Separated, Ciana will need all her strength to journey through the deep forest and save Oran from the witch’s curse. Alone and with only a trail of black feathers to follow, Ciana will fight against the odds and attempt to bring her lover home.

Round double, double you go,
Until black feathers upon you grow.
Beak and claw, talon and wing,
Now with raven’s voice you shall sing.
To the heavens you shall fly,
It is my will –
So say I.

 

BUY & TBR LINKS

AMAZON KINDLE US – AMAZON KINDLE CA – AMAZON KINDLE UK –
AMAZON KINDLE AU – GOODREADS –

 

EXCERPT

Oran’s arms were around her, holding her tight. She snuggled against him to capture his warmth. Outside the wind had picked up. It caused the branches to scratch against the cottage walls. Ciana closed her eyes but there was something that wouldn’t let her sleep.
She tilted her head back and looked at Oran. His eyelids flickered for an instant before closing altogether. His dark hair had fallen forward and obscured part of his face. Reaching up, Ciana brushed it back.
“You should sleep. The dawn will be here soon enough and we have a long journey ahead of us,” he said as he tightened his grasp.
“I know, but I can’t settle… it’s as if…”
“What?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s as if something isn’t right.”
“All is well, my love,” he answered sleepily. “It’s been an eventful day. You’re worried that your father will come after us but we will soon be far beyond his reach.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“We’ll be long gone before he even returns. Fear not,” he said as he kissed her shoulder. “We’ll be at Havensport in three days and the very thought of Stonemark will be far behind us.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Ciana said as she closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep. But the wind shrieked and circled the cottage and Ciana could not shake the feeling of foreboding.
“Of course I’m right. There is nothing to worry about…”
The door burst open with a bang. The wind tore around the room, circling the bed. With it came leaves, sticks and debris from the woods. Oran threw himself over Ciana in an attempt to shield her from the maelstrom. The wind howled like a banshee and the bed shook, until she was sure that both of them would fall.
“What’s happening?” Ciana shouted.
“I don’t know – but nothing natural I’ll wager,” Oran said as buried his head above hers. “Just hold on, love and wait for it to pass.”
But it didn’t. The wind became stronger and rattled the cottage until Ciana thought the whole thing would blow away. Ciana wrapped her arms around Oran’s waist but let out a cry as a branch dragged across her forearm, scratching and snagging her flesh until it bled.
“Put your arms beneath me and keep down – I’ll protect you.”
“But who will protect you?”
“I’ll be fine as long you’re safe. Everything will be…” Oran broke off as the wind tugged at his body. It began to lift him up.
Ciana grabbed his arms and tried to anchor him to her. “You can’t have him!” she screamed against the circling wind. “You can’t have him!”
Oran held on to the rough wooden bed head and she felt his muscles strain and bulge as he gripped on. “Ciana, I…”
The vortex spun quicker around the room. Noise thundered in Ciana’s ears as she was buffeted by more twigs, leaves and black feathers. She held onto Oran until her knuckles were white and her nails dug into his skin.
“I won’t let you go.”
His dark eyes locked onto hers for a moment. “I love you.”
“Nay, I won’t let you go…” But even as the words fell from her lips her grip slipped.
The force of the wind lifted Oran off the bed. The leaves swirled around him and swallowed his body so only his outstretched arms and head were visible. The strength of the whirlwind wretched Oran from Ciana’s grasp, the bed head snapped and with one final look Oran was dragged off the bed, back through the open door and into the night dark wood.

Black is the colour promo 2

 

AUTHOR BIO

Nicole has always been a lover of fairy tales, history and romance. She grew up in Melbourne and Central Victoria and has travelled extensively. Her first passion in life has always been her family, but after studying and achieving her BA in History and Honours in Medieval Literature, she devoted her time to writing historical, fantasy and contemporary romance. She is a full time writer who lives in the Central Highlands of Victoria with her family, where they live in the peaceful surrounds of a semi-rural town.

AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE – WEBSITE – BLOG – FACEBOOK – TWITTER –
GOOGLE+ – GOODREADS

GIVEAWAY PRIZES

$20 Amazon Gift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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Ever wonder what authors eat when they dream up new stories? Here is author Nicole Hurley-Moore’s Top 10 Favorite Snacks:

1. Baci Chocolates (the yummiest Italian chocolates ever created)
2. M & Ms (because they’re M&Ms)
3. Walnuts
4. Chocolate covered peanuts (Brilliant!)
5. Banana smoothie
6. White chocolate & macadamia nut cookies
7. Olives… because I like olives
8. Apple & spinach juice (to counteract all the chocolate)
9. Grapes
10. Baci Chocolates (because they really are the yummiest Italian chocolates ever created

)

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    Filed Under: Authors Tagged With: Black is the Colour, ebooks, Nicole Hurley-Moore

    For All in the Hope by K.E. Nowinsky

    November 25, 2014 by Mia Fox Leave a Comment

    For All In The Hope - Reveal Banner

    BOOK INFORMATION

    TITLE – For All in the Hope
    SERIES – Going off Dreams
    AUTHOR – K.E. Nowinsky
    GENRE – Paranormal Romance, Fantasy, Science Fiction
    PUBLICATION DATE – December 9th, 2014
    LENGTH (Pages/# Words) –
    PUBLISHER – Kindle Direct Publishing
    COVER ARTIST – Going off Dreams Saga Productions

    For All In The Hope - Book Cover

    BOOK SYNOPSIS

    For All in the Hope picks up right where Going off Dreams (book 1) leaves off. Nyx wakes up in the dark realm of Tartarus without her man next to her in bed. They had Xylo, the wicked Woodland Dryad prisoner until they discover that not only is she missing, Nyx’s man Tobar is missing too. Plus, another ally and friend, the Feung Phoenix Shifter and best friend of Tobar’s, Zhou is critically injured! There is a race against time to find out what happened and to rescue Tobar before those that want to destroy Nyx and her powers permanently turn Tobar.

    In the Earthly realm, Eryn is still coping with the fact that she has to leave her family and everything she knows and loves. She struggles to keep the stress of the realms from shattering her realities. As mortal Eryn, she’s a daughter to loving parents, the bigger sister to her outgoing younger sister Lena, who is living with her, and she’s also trying to balance Ryan in her life. After Christmas, Lena’s ex fiancé makes another tragic appearance that will change their fates forever.

    Back in Tartarus, Nyx comes head to head with the Darkness that wants to consume her powers. Just when you would think the battle is over, another sinister entity comes forward trying to claim her powers. Meanwhile she’s continuing to build her relationships with her friends and allies she’s made in Tartarus while also learning the capabilities of her powers that the Darkness wants to consume and wield for their dark purposes. Nyx discovers her qualities within the quests and becomes the deity that will bring light to the darkness.

    BookBanner

    BUY & TBR LINKS

    AMAZON – THUNDERCLAP – BARNES & NOBLES

    BOOK 1 (Going Off Dreams) BUY LINKS

    AMAZON – BARNES & NOBLES

    teaser1

    EXCERPT

    Gift of Escape

    Opening my eyes the images surrounding me were blurry and unfocused. Not knowing where I was, made me feel sick within the pit of my stomach and threatening to escape. My heart was in competition, feeling as if it were going to burst through my chest along with my breathing; it was catching in my lungs like knives.

    Surveying the scene, items started making some sense. When my eyes focused, I could make out the dark room with the help of the soft glow from the lights above me. I knew I had returned. I was back in Arden’s Hut, something didn’t feel right though, I was alone. Immediately I moved my hand to feel the sheets on the bed next to me, only feeling empty fabric and coldness where I expected warmth.

    My feet met the cool wooden floor as I searched the small quarters along with the connecting bathroom. He wasn’t anywhere, no note, no sign of him ever being there. My heart plummeted in a swan dive directly to the pit of my stomach, this felt all too real and familiar. The emptiness and dread, as if the darkness would swallow me whole was threatening to entrap my consciousness. Commotion from the hallway broke the threatening fear.

    Not being able to hear what was going on; I crept toward the huge thick door. Carefully, I maneuvered my toes on the floor, not to wake the creaky boards beneath me. When I heard a familiar voice say “Get Nyx, we’ll have to tell her.” The knock at the door was a little shocking, making my already erratic breathing nearly stop all together.

    Drawing a deep breath in I cracked the door peaking out, my eyes focused on the dark silhouette, light that was being filtered from behind her somewhere. As my eyes adjusted more I could associate the name with the being; Arden. She was one of the first entities I met here in this realm.

    While it was dark and perilous there was a sense that there could be more, quite a weird sensation of both hesitation and promise. I knew there were threats possibly lurking in the shadows and yet I also had formed friendships and allies with some unique and wonderful beings here. While the threat was prominent I also felt secure and a sense of being home.

    When I first met Arden I had seen her materialize on the edge of a mystical forest, which seemed like a lifetime ago. Her hair, black as the night that plagued Tartarus, and her eyes a mystic violet. She reminded me of a Native American goddess. She had the fighting skills of Qamait; goddess of war with the Nuxalk Nation. Her body looks sculpted like a well-trained assassin, fit with curves to draw any male prey. With her enchanted bow and her whip KiKi to aid in her quests, she was magnificent and wicked to witness in battle.

    Arden was more of an older sister figure. Within minutes of meeting her I felt a sense of shared spiritual security within our devotion and dedication to those we hold near to us. Plainly put, I liked Arden. She was usually in better spirits though. Now her face was serious and worried which in turn worried me further and only added to my desperation.

    Looking at her through the entrance to my bedroom chamber, the light flickered from the candles in the hallway flirting with her skin enhancing her natural beauty. She said, “Nyx, you’ll need to come with me.”

    “What’s going on?” I asked her.

    She didn’t answer as she walked up toward the main hall.

    The main room in Arden’s Hut consisted of wooden walls that reminded me of the consistency and texture like beavers had whittled the wood. Complete opposite, the floors were smooth and reminded me of a clean chopped tree displaying its many rings of life. When you looked above you could see smoke escaping through a fashioned hide-stretched ceiling. In the middle of the room a roaring fire encompassed by rocks that protect the many pillows thrown about – to which Arden would resort to throwing at guests when the opportunity presented itself. Her hut was comforting and inviting; when you took a deep breath in you could detect all the wonders and smells of the forest, which to me were delightful. You could also tell that her home had been around for a long time. Arden is a direct descendent of the Arduinnian Clan, who are known as the Guardians of the Forest, direct descendent of Diana, goddess of the hunt.

    Upon entering Arden’s main room, my stomach immediately wrenched into a horrid knot. Zhou was laying lifelessly on the floor. This made my insides crawl knowing how powerful a fighter he is. Immediately I started contemplating what could have caused this serious condition.

    Arden must have been hurting even more so. She had developed a relationship with Zhou and this only increased my concern. Arden, the true warrior that she is, was being strong for everyone. A painful lump was pressing against my throat and my eyes were pleading to cry. If Arden was holding it together, so could I.

    I always liked Zhou, and I was sad to see him like this. He was still wearing his electric dark blue pants, with an equally dark purple shirt, and with the red streak in his black hair made him look intriguing. I never understood his fashion statements. I respected him though, as a fighter, a friend, and ally. With Zhou’s New Age fashion sense, it made him seem like he wasn’t from this dimension. Tartarus was more of a realm set with foliage. His choices in wardrobe against Arden’s more naturalistic approach made them both look mismatched. Seeing them together usually made me smile but, not now—

    Zhou was a Fenghuang, a shape shifting fire bird, more precisely a fiery phoenix. While he was very skilled in both his forms he is more powerful when he is in his phoenix form. He’s always eager for a fight. Zhou is like that big brother pulling you in to give you a noogie to remind you of the status quo. I’m afraid this time though, the fight won.

    A healer Hikmat had his hands on Zhou’s forehead and chest, his eyes closed in concentration, meditating over Zhou’s lifeless body. I didn’t know Hikmat as well as some of the others in the room, I had met him only recently, and I knew he was a healer of sorts. He was a wizard when it pertained to plants, potions, and concoctions. He was a Tobar Segais like Tobar, meaning he possessed wisdom. His eyes stayed closed while his hands remained on Zhou.

    Thinking of Tobar made my stomach dive even deeper. As if my stomach detached from the warm blood circulation within my body and plummeted toward the depths of despair— my mind reconnected with another concern that had me riddled right before seeing Zhou on the floor. Tobar, he was missing from our room and if Zhou was lying on the floor defeated… Tobar was an equal opponent.

    Tobar was the one that introduced me into the realm. He was the one that my heart connected with and I felt drawn toward, like no other before him. A truly deep soul connection, without him next to me I felt as though a part of my being was missing. He had given me refuge from myself, I felt safe when I was with him. Without him, the danger lurking within the darkness here seemed more prominent and threatening.

    With the thought of him not in sight intensified the sinking feeling that had pressed so deeply south. It began to rise more rapidly back up. I had to place my hand over my mouth to reel in my senses.

    Arden kneeled down next to Zhou as closely as she could. She gently brushed her cheek against his in an intimate gesture. The room felt as if all the oxygen leaving vacuumed sealed the room, extinguishing the fire, and even the warm inside my body as I felt a sudden chill. Suffocating, I watched as she then placed her lips upon his with a soft wanting kiss. Arden’s eyes began to fill with emotion. I felt for her, as the tears sparkling against her skin escaped their confines and splashed against Zhou’s skin below. She placed her hands on his as she prayed silently.

    Seeing her in such distress only made the situation feel more dire. I too bowed my head and closing my eyes.

    Desperately I began to pray for Tobar’s safety and Zhou’s recovery. Please Lord, deliver Tobar back to us safely and lay your healing hands upon Zhou; as we so desperately need You now. I pray for those that have made their move against us. They’ll wish they had never been in existence once I finish with them…

    My concentration broke off when Avlov and Enki joined us then. They both had bowls in their hands that contained some healing elements. Enki took Avlov’s and kneeled next to Hikmat on Zhou’s other side. Enki and I had only met recently as well. He was known as Lord of the Earth, meaning he had control over the elements and its constituents.

    A Wieven, Avlov is also known as a Wise Woman. She has a vast knowledge of healing salves, rituals and how to use the elements for their benefit. She has fierce white eyes that match her white hair and almost a hipster outfit. I always liked Avlov because she wore converses.

    The group that was working on Zhou, the healers, are much like those that wield magic. They can manipulate matter and they have a vast knowledge that helps them in their aiding processes. To watch them in action definitely feels like you were experiencing magic in a true form.

    Touching my shoulder, Avolv broadcasted a message using her telepathy, “Nyx, I need to talk to you, please come with me over to the table.” Leading me over, she verbally asked “Have you seen Tobar?”

    I was on the verge of tears, there was still so much that remained unanswered, and if Zhou was hurt—I could barely articulate “No, I woke up to an empty room, a cold bed and I couldn’t find him anywhere.” My chest flet like it was going to combust.

    Arden had joined us and she put her hand around my shoulders to give me a half-hug “We’ll get these—”

    But Avlov interrupted her and said, “I think we should get Nyx up to speed with what’s going on.”

    Zhou began to stir making some noises and we all ran to his side. I felt so bad that he had to suffer so much. He opened his eyes and found Arden’s first, she took his hands in hers. Then he found mine and started to speak, weakly saying “I don’t… know… what… happened.”

    Enki spoke up and said that Zhou had taken Xylo, the captured dryad we were interrogating, some refreshments for when she would wake up.

    Zhou continued, “I opened her door… the next thing I knew I was… laying here.”

    Hikmat told Zhou that he needed to rest. We gathered pillows as they propped him up, attempting to give him some comfort. Hikmat gave Zhou another potion, this time it was clear. What was it? How easily we were to trust. After he drank it, he smiled before his eyes closed and he was back asleep.

    “So where’s Tobar?” I asked plainly.

    Everyone looked alarmed. The sick feeling returned and now there was an alarming amount of pressure on my chest. I could sense something bad was coming. It was just around the corner, lingering there like a poisonous snake waiting to strike, taking me down with its dread and despair.

    Avlov came to my side, she could be frightening to look at in the eye. Tobar mentioned before she was also known as the White Witch, I guess when you’ve been in existence as long as someone like Avlov has been, you can acquire a few nick names here and there.

    She offered me some tea but I refused it, especially since I know how loopy her tea could make me feel. No doubt she added a little something extra to the liquid concoctions to help ease the soul in times of stress or high anxiety. Which would actually be great right about now but, I need my wit about me.

    Arden came over to me and put her hands upon my shoulders again. Looking me directly in the eyes she said “We can’t find him.” My chest felt like it burst into flames. My body went limp, and I felt like I was falling. Everything went black.

    AuthorPhoto

    AUTHOR BIO

    K.E. lives in Maryland, which she refers to as “The Land of Mary”, with her faithful guard dog Bryan, her supportive parents, and their little brat-dog Sampson. She has deep-rooted morals and is very faithful in her beliefs. As a person born and raised in Maryland, she is a fan of the Baltimore Ravens and the Baltimore Orioles. When she isn’t writing, blogging, or spending time with those special characters in her head, she loves to watch her shows, to cuddle up with a good movie, or to spend time with her family and friends.

    “After years and years of my mother telling me that I should us my talents and write, I finally listened!”

    K.E. Nowinsky continues writing and plans to further the Going off Dreams realms as she dives deeper into the characters and will produce more content and books. The next scheduled work will be about one of her characters Arden and titled Arduinna: Guardians of the Forest, slotted for April 2015. She is also continuing Nyx’s quests in the next installment: How Otlen Prepares Eternity, expected to release late summer 2015.

    AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

    AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE – WEBSITE / BLOG – FACEBOOK –
    FACEBOOK PAGE – TWITTER – GOOGLE+ – PINTEREST –
    GOING OFF DREAMS BLOG – GOODREADS

     

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      Filed Under: Authors, Blog Tagged With: ebooks, fantasy, For all in the Hope, K.E. Nowinsky, paranormal romance, romance

      Adele Downs Pens Her Christmas Cowboy

      November 20, 2014 by Mia Fox Leave a Comment

      Her Christmas Cowboy - Banner

      BOOK INFORMATION

      TITLE – HER CHRISTMAS COWBOY
      AUTHOR – Adele Downs
      GENRE – Contemporary Western Romance
      PUBLICATION DATE – November 7, 2014
      LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 11,500 word Lunchbox Romance
      PUBLISHER – Boroughs Publishing Group

       

      Her Christmas Cowboy - Book Cover

       

      BOOK SYNOPSIS

      Tragedy brought them together, but joy met them on the other side.

      Daisy Phillips has a choice to make: return to Pennsylvania and the Christmases she once knew, or stay in Texas and find a new way to celebrate the holiday–with the handsome cowboy who brought joy back to her life.

      The heartwarming sequel to the Amazon-bestselling Lunchbox Romance, Kissing Her Cowboy!

       

      BUY & TBR LINKS

      AMAZON KINDLE – SMASHWORDS – ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS 

      EXCERPT

      Clearly, the man had no concept of his effect on her.

      When Daisy pulled up to Trey’s house and saw him standing at the base of the steps to greet her in nothing but low slung denims and work boots, she’d found it hard to breathe. Suddenly, Jack Frost and his Pennsylvania winter lost their appeal. Who needed snow when a smokin’ hot cowboy waited for her? Welcomed her? Wanted her?

      If she hadn’t come to Houston, she wouldn’t have met the handsome ranch hand who filled her dreams night after night. Trey had become her single compelling reason to work through her personal pain. That and the fact that she’d never give up police work. She’d find a way to succeed, one way or another. It was hard for a cop to be flexible, since theirs was a structured world, but she was trying her best to adapt to her new environment.

      Daisy took a bite of her chicken salad while Trey munched his roast beef. They ate in companionable silence while Big Blue grazed beyond. Trey took a swallow of bottled ice tea and then spoke. “Would you like to spend Christmas Eve together, here? Maybe help me trim the tree?”

      Daisy’s spirit lifted again with the invitation, though she tried to stay cool. She and her sister Rose had already been invited to Christmas dinner with Trey’s family, and she’d promised to bring homemade pumpkin pie and oven fresh bread. Rose was making apple pie and a side dish.

      Daisy hadn’t expected to spend Christmas Eve with Trey too, but she was glad he asked. “Sure. I’d like that.” The heaviness around her heart broke free and her mood lifted. She imagined the two of them in an embrace, making love beneath the twinkling lights of Trey’s Christmas tree, and realized she was…happy.

      It had been so long since she’d known the feeling it took seconds to realize what had come over her. She smiled and savored the moment. Trey made her happy. Spending Christmas with him was the best gift the season could bring.

      There would be no snowfall in Texas. Or winter’s chill. No downhill sledding, hot cocoa, or ice covered boots. There might not be snippets of holly gracing the table, but there would undoubtedly be mistletoe. With that final thought, Daisy leaned over and gave Trey a deep, gotta’ get-back-to-work kiss.

      He smiled at her, and just like that… Daisy found her Christmas spirit.

       

      Her Christmas Cowboy - Author Photo

      AUTHOR BIO

      Adele Downs writes best-selling contemporary romance inside the office of her rural Pennsylvania home. She is a former journalist, published in newspapers and magazines inside the USA, UK, and Caribbean.

      Adele is an active member of Romance Writers of America and her local RWA chapter where she serves as a past-president. She has written several articles for RWR magazine (Romance Writers Report) and has presented workshops for writers.

      When Adele isn’t working on her current project, she can be found riding in her convertible or reading a book on the nearest beach.

      AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

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      TOP TEN LIST

      I love finding something new about authors. Here is Adele Downs’ top ten list of places she would like to visit:

      The Grand Canyon
      Mount Rushmore
      Yellowstone Park
      Sanibel Island, Florida
      Venice, Italy
      Sicily, Italy
      Tuscany, Italy
      Ireland
      Scotland
      London, England

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        Filed Under: Authors Tagged With: Adele Downs, ebooks, fiction, Her Christmas Cowboy, romance novel

        Eve Rabi Debuts New Women’s Fiction

        November 18, 2014 by Mia Fox Leave a Comment

        My Wifes Lil Secret - Reveal Banner

         

        BOOK INFORMATION

        TITLE – My Wife’s Li’l Secret
        AUTHOR – Eve Rabi
        GENRE – Women’s Fiction
        PUBLICATION DATE – 18 November 2014
        PUBLISHER – Eve Rabi
        COVER ARTIST – Eve Rabi

         

        Love and Seduction

         

        BOOK SYNOPSIS

        She called me the miracle in her life, I called her my Li’l treasure.

        Sounds corny, I know, but I really believed I was the luckiest bastard on earth. I had the loving and supportive wife, a nurturing mother to our two precious girls, a thriving business and the future looked rosy. I was a contented man.
        But overnight everything changed. My wife withdrew from me, ignored our children, and made it clear she was no longer interested in playing the role of wife and mother.

        We had two children under five, they needed her. I needed her.

        When her dressing began to change and she disappeared for hours, I suspected I was not enough for her.
        Thinking she was having an affair, I placed my wife of five years under surveillance.

        What my surveillance revealed shook my world, broke my heart and exposed a web of lies and deceit.

        BUY & TBR LINKS

        AMAZON KINDLE US – AMAZON KINDLE UK

         

        My Wifes Lil Secret - Teaser

         

        EXCERPT

        Since my wife was out partying again, bedtime routine for our girls was left to me. Again. I tucked Ally and Becky into bed and began to read a story to them. “Once upon a time…”
        “Dadda?” Ally said placing her hand on the storybook and stopping me from continuing.
        I paused and looked at my daughter. “Yes, Alleycat?”
        “Dadda, what’s a hooka?”
        “Whaaaat?” I peered at my daughter wondering if I had heard correctly.
        “The teacher at preschool, she said, ‘Here comes the hooka,’ when she saw Mummy.”
        Slowly, I lowered the book and stared at my daughter. “It’s …it’s …”
        How do I explain what a hooker is to a four-year-old? I shouldn’t even be in a position where I had to.
        “The lady shouldn’t have said that, Ally,” I muttered.
        “But, Dadda …”
        Two-year-old Becky spun around and clamped her hand over Ally’s mouth. “Shhh! Let Daddy read the story, Ally!”
        Becky hated anyone interrupting a story, so to prevent her from getting mad with us, both Ally and I fell silent. I continued reading even though I was terribly distracted by Ally’s words.
        “Talk about it tomorrow, Ally,” I muttered when the opportunity arose.
        Ally nodded.
        After the kids fell asleep, I sat in my lounge in the dark and pondered Ally’s teacher’s comment.
        Liefie had great legs, a great figure and I had no problem with her wearing whatever she liked, but people were talking and clearly her dressing needed to be …addressed.
        Of course I expected Liefie to become angry when I confronted her about it, accuse me of controlling her and after the number of arguments we had had, I was reluctant to talk to her about it.
        But when I saw her the following evening, all dolled up and ready to party without her family again, hooker was the word, alright.
        Her red skirt was the size of a large belt, her white top strained across her breasts and ended above her belly button, her fake tan looked like she’d dipped herself in food coloring and that garish, face paint with that dominating electric-blue eye shadow…reminded me of Braveheart.
        She didn’t look pretty; she looked like an aging prostitute. Harsh words, I know, but they weren’t out of malice, they were simply an observation. (People were talking, remember?)
        Tarty make-up aside, to my absolute surprise, she sported two piercings above her left eyebrows. My jaw fell.
        When did that happen, I wondered? How could that happen? Why hadn’t she told me about it?
        Of course it was her body and she was free to do what she liked to it, but facial piercings weren’t something I liked. She knew that.
        She could have at least mentioned it to me before she pieced her face. We were husband and wife; it was reasonable to expect her to talk to me about something like that before she did it.
        “What’s with the piercing?” I asked, both mesmerized and irritated by them.
        She shrugged, flashed me a deal-with-it look and turned away.
        With a weary sigh, I walked around to face her. “We need to talk.”
        A guarded look flashed in her eyes before they hardened.
        “Liefie, you need to dress more like a mother,” I said in a quiet voice. “You have two children and …”
        “What?! You want to tell me how to dress now? You want to CONTROL ME?”
        Just as I had expected.
        “Hey, keep you voice down, will you? I’m talking to you, that’s all.”
        “There is nothing wrong with my dressing, okay?! Nothing!”
        “Yes, there is, Liefie. Your skirts are too short, your tops are way too tight and the people at Ally’s school are talking about it. You need to …”
        “Ally’s school?” Her heavily-lined eyes slanted.
        “Yes!”
        Her painted, pillar-box-red mouth twisted into a sneer. “You’re lying.”
        “I’m not. I swear!”
        She cocked her head and looked at me. “Who told you that?”
        “Ally told me. She said one of the mothers or teachers, I can’t remember, after seeing you, used the word hooker.”
        Her body stiffened. “Ally said ….THAT?!?”
        “Yea…”
        “That bitch! Where is she?!” She turned and strode off in search of Ally. Even though she was in heels, she almost ran.
        “Liefie stop!” I cried running after her, shocked she would call her little daughter a bitch. “Leave her alone!”
        She found Ally playing with Becky in the TV room. “Did you call me a hooker?” she demanded, putting her flaming face in Ally’s.
        “Liefie stop this shit!” I warned.
        Ally’s eyes flitted between Liefie’s and mine, a terrified look on her face.
        “Lief…ie! ” I hissed. “Stop this …”
        Liefie suddenly backhanded Ally across the face, sending her crashing into a doll’s house.
        Ally lay on the floor so stunned, she didn’t even cry. The only thing that showed her distress was puddle appearing around her waist.
        For a moment, I too was stunned. Liefie had never ever hit our kids before.
        Then fury overtook me – I grabbed my wife by the hair and slammed her against the wall.
        Putting my face in hers, I snarled, “You ever touch my child like that and I will fuck the shit out of you, understand? UNDERSTAND?”
        Her attempt to look defiant failed and I saw fear flicker in her eyes.
        I had never hit Liefie before, never even called her names, so this wasn’t something she was used to.
        “Don’t ever lay a finger on any of my daughters. Understand?” I pushed my face further into hers, resisting the urge to head-butt her.
        “Daddy, stop! Daddy!” Ally cried, while Becky started to whimper. I looked over at my two children clinging to each other, terror on their little faces.
        What am I doing?!
        Quickly, I released Liefie and took a giant step back.
        I walked over to Ally and Becky, scooped up both of them and hugged them to me. “It’s okay, it’s okay!”
        They looked at their mother who stood holding her head with both hands, but did not try to go to her.
        After a few moments, Liefie ran out of the room, shouting, “Your father is an abusive man! He just abused me in front of our children. That’s the kind of man I married!”
        I looked at Ally. “Sorry, hon.”
        “Why did you tell her, Daddy?” Ally whispered, holding her tear-stained cheek.
        “I’m sorry, Al, I was trying to get her to do the right thing. I’m sorry.”
        “You knew she’d hit me, Daddy. You shouldn’t have told her.”
        I peered at Ally. “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hit you, Ally. Usually. Right?”
        No answer.
        “ALLY?!”
        “I need to change my pants,” Ally muttered, ignoring my questions.
        My head jerked to look at little Becky.
        Becky’s head bobbed, her eyes opening wide.
        You can’t be serious?!
        My eyes shifted back to Ally. “This is the first time she hit you, right? Or does she hit you? Tell me, Ally.” I shook her. “Tell me!”
        Becky’s head continued to bob.
        “All the time, Daddy,” Ally finally muttered. “Yesterday she hit me because I took too long to get Uncle Viggo’s beer. From the fridge.”
        “WHAAAT?” She had my four-year-old daughter fetching alcohol for her brother?
        Ally nodded.
        “Mummy hit Ally here,” Becky said, slapping the top of her head.
        I was mortified at what I was hearing.
        If Liefie could hit my daughter that way in front of me, backhand her, what would she be doing behind my back? Aghast, I looked at my firstborn who I idolized. “Ally, honey, why didn’t you tell me this?”
        “You weren’t here, Dadda. And Mummy said if I carry tales she’ll make me sorry.” Fat tears coursed down little Ally cheeks.
        I drew my girls closer, feeling absolutely gutted to know they were being silently abused by their own mother. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Daddy will make it stop. I’m so sorry. This is not going to happen again. I promise.”

        My Wifes Lil Secret - Author Photo

        AUTHOR BIO

        Eve Rabi lives in Sydney Australia, but was born in South Africa.
        She is the author of 25 books and is known for her kick-ass leading ladies, her alpha males and her ability to make you cry and make you laugh as you fall in love.
        She loves music and cannot live without it.
        She also enjoys dancing, (was a Latin dance instructor years ago) and keeps her kids in line by threatening to bust a Zumba move in front of their school assembly.

        FOLLOW EVE HERE

        Blog – Website – Facebook – Twitter –
        Pinterest – Smashwords

        My Wifes Lil Secret - Teaser2

         

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          Filed Under: Authors Tagged With: cover reveal, ebooks, fiction, kindle, lies and deceit, My Wife's Lil Secret, new adult

          What Rough Beast by H.R. Knight Preview

          November 18, 2014 by Mia Fox Leave a Comment

          What Rough Beast - Banner

           

          BOOK INFORMATION

          TITLE – What Rough Beast
          AUTHOR – H. R. Knight
          GENRE – Paranormal Mystery
          PUBLICATION DATE – 9/8/14
          LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 320pp/109,000 words
          PUBLISHER – H. R. Knight
          COVER ARTIST – Rebecca Poole

           

          BOOK SYNOPSIS

          Harry Houdini asks Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to help him expose Maximillian Cairo—a spiritualist medium. But the two men underestimate Cairo. He’s a master of the occult and the most debauched man in London. Conan Doyle and Houdini get more than they bargained for when they interrupt a magic ritual and accidentally set loose a force for ecstasy and chaos on an unsuspecting Edwardian London.

          Soon one of their friends is falsely accused of a grisly murder. Conan Doyle and Houdini are sure the real killer was at the ritual with them. They’re faced with a locked-room homicide that baffles even Houdini.

          One by one, people in the little group who attended the ceremony feel an insidious influence creep over them. Each succumbs to a burst of creativity, shortly followed by an act of uncontrollable madness.

          The proper Victorian gentleman and the ebullient New Yorker must team up to solve the murder and stop the thing they set loose before it completely unravels their ordered world.

          What Rough Beast - Book Cover

           

          BUY & TBR LINKS

          AMAZON KINDLE US – AMAZON KINDLE CA – AMAZON KINDLE UK –
          AMAZON PAPERBACK – BARNES & NOBLES NOOK – SMASHWORDS

          ITUNES – Books > Mysteries & Thrillers > Historical> H. R. Knight

           

          EXCERPT

          Chapter 28 – Encounter in the Fog

          As we strolled along the tiny cobblestone lane, there was not a cab in sight. Not that we could see far in the darkness. The damp fog off the Thames had worked its way north to this neighbourhood. A thick patch of it rolled in quickly. In a few minutes, we could barely see across the street.

          A little chill ran down my spine. I had a distinct feeling of being watched. I turned to look behind me. The gaslights had become faint glows that hid more than they illuminated. Movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention. There, had something behind us just flitted into the shadow of a doorway? Or was it merely a swirl of mist? I felt alone and quite vulnerable. I was grateful for the sturdy companion at my side. Houdini spoke in a low voice.

          “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “I’m getting the creeps.”

          We picked up our pace and made south for Euston Road. The fog thickened and thinned around us in pale, cottony patches. We encountered no other soul. At its densest, the fog could have concealed armies. Indeed, it played strange tricks on one’s ears. I thought I heard footsteps shuffling along behind us. Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour or the disturbing events we were investigating, but the sound made me uneasy. We continued on even more quickly. Then, suddenly, we were in the clear. We could see the entire block of flats behind us. I paused, and restrained my companion with a hand on his arm. Here was our chance to get a good look at our pursuer. I could not be sure, but I thought I heard a foot scrape the stones of the road before silence surrounded us. I looked to Houdini.

          “I heard it too,” he said softy. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Back there.”

          Why his confirmation filled me with dread, I cannot say. The person behind us was almost certainly a weary pilgrim such as we, eager for his own sitting room and a warm fire.

          I saw that Houdini had drawn the sharpened screwdriver out of his pocket and held it like a dagger. We turned to face whoever was following us.

          Halfway down the street a single gaslight glowed feebly. At the end of the lane a figure approached. It jogged along the walls of the buildings. I got an impression of a manlike shape with an impossibly lean body and grotesquely long limbs. It loped along in an odd, loose-jointed way. I could have sworn I heard soft, animal-like moans. It was as if some savage beast were hot on our trail. I felt Houdini clutch my shoulder.

          “What is it?” he hissed in my ear.

          I could only shake my head. It was like no creature I had seen in all my travels. The thing’s unnatural form filled me with loathing. Its huge shadow, magnified by the streetlamp, flitted along the bricks of the buildings.

          I stood, my eyes riveted on the gaslight down the street. What would I see when the thing stepped full into the glow? As if in answer to my thought, it paused and sniffed the air. The misshapen head swiveled until it pointed precisely in our direction. Its eyes glittered with a malign emerald glow.

          The beast took a step forward. Then an absolutely unexpected thing happened. Just before it stepped full into the light, the creature swarmed straight up the sheer wall. I gasped at the speed with which it scaled the bricks. It climbed until it was lost in the shadows. For a moment, all was silent. Then I heard a sound that chilled me to my soul—the faint sound of claws scrabbling across the roof tiles high above us. And the sound was approaching rapidly.

          “Come on,” Houdini hissed, grabbing my sleeve.

          We took off down the street at a run. My shoes slipped on the flagstones. I wheeled my arms to catch my balance. On and on we raced. The blood beat in my temples. We careened into abrupt turns and doubled back on ourselves. Soon we were back in another patch of fog. My breath sounded harsh in my ears. At last I felt Houdini’s grasp on my arm as he pulled me to a stop.

          I sagged against the cold bricks and gasped for air. Silence surrounded us. My heart pounded in my chest. Had we given our pursuer the slip? The alley next to us was dark. We huddled in its shadows and peeped around the corner. We could barely make out the walls of the tenements that loomed over us. The stones beneath our feet were rough and uneven. The cold air seared the back of my throat as I caught my breath. I scarcely dared look back for fear of seeing something.

          Houdini whispered. “I think we lost—”

          The unmistakable sound of scrabbling above us cut him off.

          “Run!”

          The cry echoed off the walls. We plunged into the blackness of the street before us. I was racing at full speed before I realised that it was I who had shrieked the command. Our feet pounded the pavement as we dashed through the darkness. We both flung our arms up to protect from an overhead attack. The thing that pursued us—was it what had murdered Mackleston’s brother?

          The street turned out to be a long, curving one with no side alleys. But at the end I thought I discerned a glow of light.

          “At… end,” Houdini gasped beside me. “Stop … set ambush.”

          I thought of what the creature above us had done to Reggie and shivered. How could we defend against an attack that could come from any direction? But each breath I drew felt like a stab in my side. I couldn’t run much longer.
          Not three yards from the end of the street a huge figure loomed out of the lowering fog in front of us. We skidded to a stop and barely avoided colliding with it.

          “Here now, what’s the rush, lads?” a loud voice boomed. Two hands the size of hams clutched at our lapels and hauled us into the street. “Let’s get a better look at you,” the voice declared.

          We found ourselves under an electric light on Euston Road. The figure looming over us revealed itself as a frowning giant of a policeman. The fog had lowered again. Little droplets had condensed on the brass buttons of his uniform. They glittered like gems under the lamplight. Though I continued to gasp for air, my relief was palpable. As he saw how we were dressed, a look of surprise registered on his face and he loosed his hold on us.

          “I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” he said. Then he noticed the sharpened screwdriver, still clutched in Houdini’s hand. “Now what—”

          “Constable,” I panted, “someone or something is after us.” I pointed into the blackness behind us.

          Houdini nodded vigorously as he leaned over to suck in air. “Tried to lose him … chased us a good two miles.”
          “Oh, he has, has he?” The officer drew his truncheon out of his belt and turned to face the yawning darkness. “We’ll see about that.”

          I could not let him face the demon alone. “Whoever he is. .. he’s gone mad,” I warned between breaths. “You must … get reinforcements.”

          The policeman turned back to us and smiled. “One man only?”

          “At least wait… until we catch … our breaths,” I urged. “We’ll accompany you.”

          The policeman seemed not to have heard me. His face lit up in anticipation. William the Conqueror’s face might have looked the same as he led the charge at Hastings.

          “I hope he tries to resist arrest. I truly do.”

          So saying, he picked up a little black lantern from the ground beside him. He lifted it to head height and plunged into the unlit street.

          “Like Custer at Little Bighorn,” Houdini muttered to himself. Neither of us had fully recovered, but we straightened up and staggered after the man.

          “Wait up!” Houdini called. We chased the watery glow of light from his lantern as it floated through the foggy darkness. Before we had gone six steps, the light appeared to dance wildly. We heard a shout, a feral screech, and finally a shrill scream, like a soul in torment. The shriek rose and fell. Abruptly, it cut off. The lantern fell to the street with a clatter. It glowed brightly for a moment and then winked out. A terrible silence followed.

          AUTHOR BIO

          H. R. Knight is the pen name of Harry Squires, a critically acclaimed author who writes mysteries—some paranormal, some not—as well as thrillers, and the occasional magazine article. Harry has worked as an insurance underwriter, a software marketer, and a corporate trainer. He attended Journalism School at the University of Missouri and film school at UCLA.

          He has studied Okinawan karate and Chinese boxing. Current hobbies include dog training, classical guitar, cooking, and collecting obscure, cheesy horror films from the 1930s & ‘40s.

          Having traveled all over the world, he’s developed a preference for countries that produce good wines.

          He shares a home and a life with his wife Susan, who publishes unconventional paranormal romances. They own, train, and show Belgian Sheepdogs. Occasionally the dogs are kind enough to give Harry and Susan hope that they may someday be in charge of the pack.

          They all live at the beach in Southern California.

          AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

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          BONUS!! AUTHOR INTERVIEW WITH H.R. KNIGHT

          Where does your inspiration for stories come from?

          Usually that’s a tough question to answer. And scary. The process seems magical and timid; writers are afraid to question it in case they scare it away.But in this case I know exactly where my book, What Rough Beast, came from:
          One summer not long ago, guilt drove me to read the philosopher Frederick Nietzsche. Years ago my good friend Steve had given me a book of his writings. But Steve was a philosophy major in school, so his idea of a fun read was probably a little different from mine.

          But hey, I thought, you’re a reasonably intelligent fellow. It’s time you knuckled down and got through this thing. You read some philosophy in school. How bad could it be? So I opened the book and started the essay, The Birth of Tragedy. It was obvious from the start that Fredrick and I were not destined to be buddies. Here’s a quote from the book:

          “This primordial basis of tragedy radiates that vision of drama out in several discharges following one after the other, a vision which is entirely a dream image, and, in this respect, epic in nature, but on the other hand as an objectification of a Dionysian state, it presents not the Apllonian consolation in illusion, but by contrast the smashing of individuality and becoming one with the primordial being.”

          Fun times. But I made my way through it. Neitzsche talked about all art as being a conflict between the powers of two Greek gods–Dionysus and Apollo. Dionysus represented ecstasy and chaos; Apollo stood for the forces of reason and order. It was a conflict between the party animal and the worker bee. Or you could look at it as emotion vs. rational thought.

          Or you could slam the book shut in frustration at the denseness of the prose. But I persevered. I owed Steve that much. Still, I was mentally fatigued after a session with Neitzsche. So to reward myself I would relax by reading a story or two from The Compete Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

          And those were my days (when I had one free) — Neitzsche in the mornings, Conan Doyle in the afternoon.
          And I began to get an idea for a book. The story would be about repressed Victorian men being slammed up against the Dionysian forces of ecstasy and madness. I would make them acknowledge that those emotions and desires existed hidden within their ordered, rational lives.

          Here’s the story I came up with:
          Harry Houdini asks Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to help him expose Maximillian Cairo–a spiritualist medium and the most debauched man in London. But the two men get more than they bargained for when they interrupt a magic ritual and accidentally set loose a force for ecstasy and chaos on an unsuspecting Edwardian London.

          One by one, people in the little group who attended the ritual feel an insidious influence creep over them. Each succumbs to a burst of creativity, shortly followed by an act of uncontrollable madness. The proper Victorian gentleman and the exuberant New Yorker must team up to stop the thing they set loose before it completely unravels their ordered world. And that’s how I started writing the book that became “What Rough Beast.”

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