Tag Archives: Giveaway

“Hand of Time” Giveaway!!!! Enter now!

Hand of Time Button 300 x 225

Who doesn’t want to win an intriguing Paranormal Romance, especially during the final stages of summer while you’re perfecting a  tan . . . or if you live in the Carolinas like I do . . . waiting for the rain to stop?

Here it is – the link to hours of reading enjoyment if you are one of the lucky winners. And what’s the carrot dangling at the end of the stick? Why, 10 signed hard copies of Hand of Time (open to US Shipping).

Click the link! Enter now! and then read on for more details about this awesome release by H.R. Jackson, Book 2 in the Nemesis Chronicles series.


Hand of Time
The Nemesis Chronicles, Volume 2

H.R. Jackson

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Geek Treats Collective

Date of Publication: April 20th, 2013

ISBN: 1484125509


Number of pages: 352

Word Count: 154,22

Cover Artist: Robb Lombard

Amazon Print   Kindle  Nook  Audible

Book Description: 

Morgan… Three months after the events of Vegas turned her life upside down, she’s finding that getting back to normal is anything but easy.

Dirk… Trapped between juggling his new responsibilities and making Morgan understand his feelings, the former courtesan is discovering that letting go of the past is much harder when the past refuses to let go of him.

Nemesis… Still reeling from the Society’s attack, they find themselves facing a familiar foe and a new menace hellbent on testing their fortitude.

Midsummer madness heats up Nemesis Island. It’s a time of celebration and renewal, but the Society has other plans… with Dirk, Morgan, and the rest of Nemesis at the top of their list.


Sam was a flash of Cimmerian shade, her outfit matching her blackberry hair as she zigzagged through the dense forest with the fluid grace of a gazelle with a lion on its tail. She played hide-and-seek with the shadows, and I was having a hell of a time keeping a bead on her. Bursting through the pines and out into a large clearing of short grass, I spanned the distance between us, waylaying her with an aerial kick to the back that sent her tumbling forward into a combat roll with an explosion of breath. Springing to her feet before she came to a full stop, Sam pivoted into a roundhouse kick that I barely dodged, my fist aiming directly for her jaw.

She deflected the strike with the momentum of her spin, managing to avoid my follow up kicks, before rushing in to clip my chin with her elbow. The shockwave from the sharp hit almost made me bite my tongue, pain spiking down my jaw and into my neck. Capturing my next jab, she used my kidney as a speed bag before I managed to retreat with a grunt of rapidly mounting irritation. Regrouping quickly despite the ache in my side that threatened to drop me, I lashed out with a flurry of fists and feet, hoping that sheer speed would somehow get past her defenses.

Sam expertly blocked and dodged everything I threw at her before unexpectedly stopping my forward inertia with a hard palm to the chest that sent me reeling back gasping for air as my lungs forgot how to work.

Breathing is highly overrated anyway.

In the two months since I’d joined Nemesis, I’d had many occasions to spar with Sam, the current head of the group and perpetual pain in my ass, but never at quite this intensity. With the exception of Sam’s fraternal twin, Tequila, no other member of Nemesis understood the training style I’d grown up with in my Amazonian tribe. It was a brutal, no holds barred, out for blood mode of fighting, meant to test our skills, to keep them as honed as our blades. But there was a fine line between training and the outright brawl this session was quickly turning into.

And damned if I didn’t have the first clue as to what set her off this time. But then, getting a read on Sam was like trying to capture smoke with a sieve. Holding back, she eyed me as we circled one another slowly.

She and her sister had been raised outside the tribe until they were fifteen by their mother, the former Queen Antiope. Both were formidable fighters in their own rights, thanks to her guidance. Tequila, the resident healer of Nemesis, had come back to her Amazonian roots, while Sam decided to serve with our shield-sisters the Valkyrie, before they were both recruited into Nemesis’ ranks. Where her sister was exceptionally skilled in the healing arts, Sam’s abilities resided in tactical strategy and a natural talent for Psychomancy.

I deflected another whirlwind of strikes and growled, dancing out of the way. Over the years, my experiences going toe-to-toe with Psychomancers had shown me they generally resorted entirely on fighting with their mental acumen, relying on telekinesis and telepathy to swing the odds in their favor.

But Sam had elevated it into an art form, wielding both blade and brain with the ferocity of a woman possessed and the skill of an accomplished warrior. She’d managed, numerous times, to make even me question if I’d somehow become dumb and clumsy, and I’d been swinging swords since before she and her sister were even a twinkle in Antiope’s baby blues.

Truth be told, this fight had been a long time coming. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Sam, per se, but I was unaccustomed to being bossed around, even if I understood the hierarchy as it stood within Nemesis. I wasn’t used to being the puella, the rookie. It rankled me, getting under my skin like a sliver of glass.

Sam motioned for me to attack, egging me on with a gesture. I hung back. She was baiting me. My eyes narrowed.

When she’d suggested we ‘take it to the wood line’ after our most recent verbal altercation, I was more than happy to oblige, despite wishing her timing had been better. We had a house full of reveling Amazons, Valkyrie, and other guests for Midsummer celebrations, and I had a gala date later that evening with Dirk. I’d been dragging my feet about it all day and that black cloud had gotten me into this predicament.

Still, it felt good to take out all of the pent up frustration and worry on someone who’d been an absolute thorn in my side for the last two months, even if she was making me wonder if this was going to end with one of taking a one-way trip to Bella’s morgue. The gnawing sensation of impending disaster intensified when Sam reached for her blade, a scarily grim and focused expression smoothing the lines on her face into an impassive mask. I immediately followed suit, loosing Aduro from her scabbard and pulling her free with a single smooth movement.

The slow circling continued and I knew she was waiting for an opening. The ground below me was springy, damp from the perpetual moistness that helped to keep the Emerald City its lovely verdant hue. It was a hell of a drastic change from the Vegas citadel’s sandy sparring fields, but at least it wouldn’t hurt as much to get knocked down.

And with the way Sam kept eyeballing me, I knew one of us was going to end up ass over teakettle soon.

What the hell is with her today? I hadn’t realized that telling Sam I had plans for the evening that didn’t include sitting through another boring debriefing warranted this kind of ass kicking.

About the Authors:

Once upon a time, a man and a woman looked at each other and asked, “Why aren’t we writing this down?”

Inspired by Sci-Fi and Fantasy, with a healthy appreciation of all manner of geekery, they longed to create a world where sword, sorcery, and a little sprinkling of real life could come together. With this in mind, the pair sat down and started the stories that would eventually become The Nemesis Chronicles.

When they aren’t weaving fantastical tales, they spend their time being owned by the Feline Mafia and watching the rain fall in their home city of Seattle.

Find them on the web:


Follow them on Goodreads:


Follow them on twitter:  @hrjacksontnc

Follow them on FaceBook:


It’s MY turn – New Release Contest “The WARRIOR”

After months (and I mean MONTHS) of challenging aspects in my life, I’ve finally put them behind me – or at least toughened up enough to trudge through  – and released the long overdue second book in my Clans of Tagus series, “The WARRIOR”.

A short summation of my trials without going into a lot of details: a premature grandson with a rare genetic disorder which has, and will, require constant care. He’s a sweet, sweet baby. An angel, truly. But his life will not be an easy one so my hubby and I have decided to remain in the Carolinas. No more plans to return to Arizona, a long held personal dream.

But with that decision, I started a new course through uncharted territory. A little scary. An emotional tug-o-war. A complete alteration to my carefully planned future.

I’m ready to move forward now after weeks and months of NICU, specialists, worrying and resignation that life has taken on a different form with new priorities. Since I’d put my writing on hold while devoting time and energy to family, and ignored promotion, networking and creative plans for future books, my book sales, of course, took a nose dive. Summer is typically slow for digital sales. Mine was almost non-existent.

No problem. I’ll rebound. Finish edits and rewrites of “The WARRIOR”. A good plan until I hurt my shoulder. Since I was reduced to five and ten minute sessions at the keyboard before my fingers went numb . . . actually only two fingers because I couldn’t use all of them . . . it was a slow, depressing time. I considered walking away from writing altogether.

But some good meds, rehabilitation exercises and a glass of wine or two finally restored my usually optimistic attitude if not my complete mobility.

The beginning of 2012 was fantastic. The middle, devastating. The ending . . . a rebirth. And birth can be painful. Why do you think babies cry when they first come into this world?

“The WARRIOR” is now available on Amazon for only .99 cents and will soon be up at Barnes & Noble and Smashwords.  Please pass along the news.  I was moving upward at a rapid rate of speed when I took my tumble. Falling that hard and that fast hurts – but it taught me some valuable lessons.

  • Expect the unexpected.
  • Help those who are just starting out, because starting over is the same thing.
  • It really doesn’t matter if you fall, as long as you get back up.
  • Fear is as big a motivator as success.

There are many more bullets I could add to my list but I think you get the point. The last thing I want to say is “THANK YOU” to all my fans, friends and peers who kept me afloat when I thought I was going down for the count. I’m humbled by your support.

And to show my thanks, I’m giving away  ecopy sets of The GATEKEEPER and The WARRIOR to two lucky participants. Just leave a comment to enter. I’ll choose the winners on Christmas Day!



by Deb Sanders

Genre: Urban Fantasy

33,000 words



Coming soon to 

Barnes & Noble



Artimon, a Tagusian Warrior first introduced in The Gatekeeper (Book One), is working with the Underground on Earth to stop an impending invasion by the ruthless Warlords. When his investigation into a band of insurgents hits a snag, he reluctantly pairs with Zara, a Dark Fae archer with her own agenda for finding the rebel’s lair. After revealing her sister, Lily, is imprisoned at a secret underground location and has been forced to use her telepathic powers to contact the Warlord leader on Tagus, Artimon agrees to help Zara rescue Lily in exchange for information on the rebel’s bunker.

Artimon and Zara exhibit instant dislike for each other. Having shunned emotions in their quest for combat mental toughness, they attempt to override their hostility for the sake of the mission. But the two warriors become locked in a battle for competitive prowess and leadership. As tempers flare and emotions are unleashed, they soon find themselves fighting a different battle, one of intense attraction and sexual desire.

After Zara locates her comatose sister, she realizes the Warlord leader has imprisoned Lily’s consciousness on Tagus, and if her physical body and psyche are not reunited, she will soon die.

Artimon seeks out Kylie, the Gatekeeper, for assistance. They devise a risky plan to enter Tagus through a secret Fae portal at Ben Bulben, Ireland. Zara assumes they are on a rescue mission to free Lily but Artimon is determined to kill his nemesis from youth, Gunter, now leader of the Warlords.

Events push the two warriors toward a terrifying confrontation where their lives and love hang in the balance, as does the future of two worlds – a confrontation where one warrior will win but only at the expense of the other.

Spotlight Author: Sheila Mary Taylor

SheilaMaryTaylor. . . and an exceptional giveaway!

Ms. Taylor is offering FIVE paperback and FIVE ebook copies of her new release, “Pinpoint”. Click on the Rafflecopter link below to enter the contest but first check out my interview with this incredibly gifted author. Keep going because you’ll also find a blurb for “Pinpoint”.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

I’m excited to welcome today’s spotlight author, Sheila Mary Taylor, who promises to share a little bit about herself and a lot about her exciting new thriller, “Pinpoint”.

And I am just as excited to be here on this wonderful website of yours, Deb. Thank you so much for hosting me today. As an introduction, your readers may be interested in watching this very short book trailer made by my granddaughter Katie Belshaw, which sets the tone and the main conflict of the novel with some incredibly atmospheric music.


 Sheila, when I read the blurb for “Pinpoint“, I immediately thought of a line from “Marmion” by Walter Scott:  Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. It sounds like a delicious mix of legal thriller and Psycho.

Now that’s a coincidence. “Marmion” was one of my Scottish mother’s favorite poems (she was a poet herself) and she read it to me so often that the words are still like music to my ears. I wonder if they had some influence on my writing, because not only does Pinpoint have this tangled web at its core, but my work in progress actually has it in its title. Can you believe it? Dance to a Tangled Web.

In this mix of legal thriller and Psycho, I go into the heads of not only my main character Julia, a criminal lawyer, who cannot remember the events leading up to her separation from her beloved twin brother at the age of ten, but also into those of Paul Moxon, the detective hunting the escaped Sam Smith, and of course Sam Smith himself. And it was the writing in Smith’s p.o.v. that I found the most fascinating and also the most difficult. Both Julia and Smith were severely damaged as children, but the burning question was to discover whether they were connected or whether Smith has been so clever that he has duped Julia into thinking he might be her brother. Additionally, Julia is caught between Smith and Paul Moxon, and this psychological conflict is also central to the plot.

Where did you get the idea for the story?

I always find it difficult to answer this question, because there is never just one idea to a novel. It’s is a very complex set of ideas that seem to come from nowhere and weave themselves around a character who has a problem. I was due to attend a writers’ weekend in England some years ago and the guest of honor was to be a top London agent. He asked every delegate to write the first chapter of a “Woman in Jeopardy” novel. Because my son is a criminal defense lawyer, I would often hear about some of the unusual clients he had, and I was sure I could adapt one of them to create the kind of premise the agent required. I was also really interested in the development of twins and their relationship, as my father was a psychologist and it was one of the subjects we often talked about, nurture versus nature and all that. So the idea of having a female lawyer being threatened by someone she thinks is a long lost loved one jumped into my head, and it just grew from there. I actually won that competition, but when asked to write the next 10,000 words, the agent’s reader didn’t like it! A few years later I rewrote it, changed it dramatically, and voila, here it is now.

Writing a story with such detailed courtroom scenes must have required a great deal of research. Did you use a research assistant, professional experts or just dive in at the library?

I absolutely loved the research I did, until it almost took over my life. I didn’t use the library, but went straight to the top experts in the business, who were all ever so willing to help. I also spent hours in the Manchester Crown Court and the Magistrate’s Courts, where a lot of the action of Pinpoint takes place. I visited police stations and was shown around some of the normally hidden recesses. My middle son, one of Manchester’s top criminal lawyers at the time, answered every question I asked him, and I was also extremely lucky to meet a retired Greater Manchester Police Superintendent living in Menorca where we live for part of the year. He also gave me invaluable help, so I was able to place two of my main characters right at the heart of the conflict – the prosecution and the defense – knowing that my facts were all correct.  For other aspects of the novel, I was smuggled into Strangeways Prison to witness a female lawyer interviewing a murder client, took a ride in an ambulance, attended a course in self-protection, masqueraded as a social worker, and I even ventured into lesser known seedy areas of Manchester and its surrounds, which every big city has but seldom publicizes. Oh, it was such fun doing all the research – I didn’t want to stop!

What else do you have planned? More thrillers?

At the moment no thrillers, although I’m sure there will be more. My work in progress, almost finished, with just a final edit to complete before it is published by Taylor Street Books (the similar name is a mere coincidence), is a kind of romantic drama. Dance to a Tangled Web has three main characters, just as Pinpoint has, and each one has a major dilemma in their lives, which gradually end up all woven together in a tangled web of love, loss, deceit, tragedy and more love. The story is very loosely based on the ballet Giselle, so there is a slight touch of the paranormal from one of the main characters. But I don’t want to say too much, as I would hate to spoil it for my readers.

You live such an exciting life – part of the year in Cape Town, part of the year in the UK and/or Spain . . . wow! When do you find time to write?

When you want to write as badly as I want to write, then you somehow find the time. The actual travelling from one home to another is very distracting, but once I get there I absolutely love each and every one of them. Each house is home, but very different. I open the front door, and I am “home”. Each place gives me inspiration, and the change is always very refreshing, often giving forth new ideas. I get up most mornings between 5 a.m. and 6 a.m. and those first few hours in the morning are always the most productive. I have lots of friends in each place and the social aspect is also very important. Funnily enough, the one place where I have not set a novel is Cape Town, where I was born, and spent the first twenty-one years of my life, only returning in 1998 after many years living in Zambia, Tanzania, Ghana, Spain and the UK. I hope my next one will be influenced by my life in Cape Town.

I’m also amazed by the incredible experiences you’ve had over the years as a jockey in amateur ladies’ races, roller skating in nightclubs, acting and directing, secretary to a diplomat, editor of a magazine . . . What has been the most exciting thing you’ve done? And tell us about one thing on your “bucket list” you have yet to do.

The most exciting thing? Oh, goodness. They were all exciting. Let me try to think which was the most exciting. For sheer exhilaration, I think it has to be the horse racing. This was at full blown race meetings, which were sometimes thrown open to amateur riders. It was also in the days before Casinos were allowed in South Africa, so these were the only occasions when people could gamble. I remember one time when the horse I was riding was odds on favorite. I’d been riding it at dawn every morning on the sand track at the race course and was aware of the binoculars trained on me. I was also aware on the day that the horse was more on his toes than usual. So much so that he literally “jumped the gun” and took off seconds before the start. I struggled to pull him up, using every ounce of my strength, but there was no stopping him. We went right round the mile long course and amazingly I was brought back under starter’s orders, which today would never have happened. Even more amazingly, after all that, we came second, just beaten by a short head. Do I need to say more?  But running a close second to the racing was dancing in the Royal Albert Hall in London. Absolutely awesome with several thousand people in the packed audience, I will never forget the excitement and wonder of being in that fantastic, beautiful, historical building.

The one thing I have yet to do? There are a few, but number one is to go to Kathmandu and climb a mountain in the Himalayas. I know this is now impossible but it is still a dream. I was mesmerized by Kathmandu many years ago by a book called The Mountain is Young, by a wonderful Eurasian writer called Han Suyin. She also wrote A Many Splendored Thing, which was made into a movie called Love is a Many Splendored Thing. I often re-read The Mountain is Young, and am no less fascinated by it than I was all those years ago.

You’ve also published a highly acclaimed, non-fiction account of your son’s battle with cancer, “Count to Ten“.  It must have presented a huge emotional hurdle to outline and put on paper. What are the differences between writing non-fiction and fiction? And which do you enjoy most?

I enjoy both. The difference is that in non-fiction everything you say must be the truth, so in a way it is easier as you do not have to do research, whereas when writing fiction you can allow your imagination full rein and although you must of course draw on real situations these can be embellished to any extent you wish but you have to do research in order to make sure you do not create unbelievable situations. In the case of Count to Ten, it was also cathartic. I held back on nothing. Every terrible happening, every terrible truth, and every terrible fear of both mine and as far as I knew, Andrew’s as well, found its way onto the pages. The illness drew us very close together, but Count to Ten was written mostly from a mother’s point of view, and I was not always privy to Andrew’s deepest thoughts, yet it is the closest to the truth as any book could possibly be.

Sheila, thank you so much for sharing a bit of your writer’s journey with my readers. It’s been a pleasure to put you “in the spotlight” and present your latest work, “Pinpoint”.

Thank you so much. This has been a delightful experience.

And now that you’ve learned about this incredible author, let me introduce you to her latest release, “Pinpoint”. If you like suspense thrillers, this is a must read!

PinpointPinpoint Button 300 x 225
Sheila Mary Taylor

Publisher: Taylor Street Books

Genre: Crime (Legal Crime Psychological Thriller)

ISBN: 1461049148


Number of pages: 363

Word Count: 122,000
A lawyer, a murderer and a policeman – caught in a tangled web of love, loss, terror and intrigue.

When lawyer Julia Grant interviews Sam Smith who has been charged with an especially vicious murder, she feels a strange connection to him, as if she has met him before, as if he holds the key to something she has forgotten among the unbearable memories from her past she has determinedly blotted out.

He feels a connection too. “Julia, you are the only one who can help me,” he pleads.

Is it the same connection? Does he know something she cannot recall?

When he is duly convicted despite her best efforts, he suddenly turns on her in the courtroom and threatens that one day he will make sure to wreak his revenge on her.

But why? What has she ever done to him?

And then, on his way to prison, he escapes ……

Amazon.com  Kindle

Book Trailer http://youtu.be/R7Ou3N7hx8Q

Release Day Giveaway: The Stone Guardian

WHOA!!!   You’re gonna love this giveaway as much as you love the book! $50 Paypal cash (2) and The Stone Guardian e-book (1). Just click the Rafflecopter link to enter – then read on for an exciting excerpt of “The Stone Guardian” by Teresa McClinton.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Stone GuardianThe Stone Guardian RDB Button 300 x 225

by Theresa McClinton

When myth becomes reality, reality becomes a nightmare.

Like any other teenager in America, Ashley just wants a normal life. But growing up in an orphanage for the insane is anything but normal. After endless therapy and increasing medication, her nightmares have only gotten worse.

Probably because they’re not nightmares.

When Ashley’s mysteriously abducted, she finds a reality even less normal than the orphanage. And she discovers something else—she’s no ordinary orphan. Faced with enemies thought to only exist in fairy tales, Ashley discovers she possesses a powerful Maya bloodline. She’s the daughter of an ancient Maya Guardian, whose duty is to protect the Stone of Muuk’ich, an enchanted relic blessed by the gods. But first she must get it back from Sarian, a power-hungry demigod who slaughtered the last guardian—Ashley’s mother. Without the stone, all will be lost.

When she meets Arwan, a hot Belizean time bender, his delicious olive skin and dark eyes make her feel a little less alone. But his gentle whispers and reassuring touch might not be all they seem. How can she balance love and duty when it’s up to her to prevent the rising of the underworld? Especially when the guy she loves might be its crown prince…

Book Trailer http://youtu.be/fN1JvOOntWw


“Where are we going?” Ashley asked, walking a few steps behind. Arwan slowed his pace for her much shorter stride. She wasn’t used to hiking in the jungle, but she didn’t want to show it. He found that a cute addition to the many things he admired about her.

Without offering an explanation, he grabbed a stick from the ground. If he told her where he was taking her, it would ruin the surprise. He just hoped the creatures hadn’t taken shelter somewhere else because of the heavy rains.

Soon they arrived at a clearing where hundreds of tall, thin bushes with elegant purple blooms covered the ground. Mature trees formed a canopy overhead, while gaps in the branches allowed the sun to speckle the jungle floor with light.

“I thought you would like it here.” He watched for her reaction.

She inspected the space. “It’s neat.”

Of course, she didn’t know why they were really there. He watched her shift her weight. Did she lie when she said he didn’t make her uncomfortable? It seemed like he did. Every time he smiled at her, her cheeks flushed or her muscles tensed.

Arwan gently took her hand. She allowed him to, without hesitation. It was the first time.

Carefully, he guided her through the maze of shrubs. When they reached the center, he stood in front of her and put his lips close to her ear. “Can I hold you?” She took a small step back. He waited for her to decide and, at the slightest nod, took her hand. “I just want to show you something.”

He slid his hand gently around her waist and drew her close. Her chest jumped when they pressed together. He savored the feeling of her drumming heartbeat. In fact, he could almost hear it.

She rested her hands against his chest, and he wondered if she felt his heart drumming too. “You’re blushing.”

She pressed the backs of her hands on her face. “I am?”

He caressed the silky curve of her cheek. “You’re lovely when you blush.” The stick secure in his hand, he extended it to the side. “Watch.” With a powerful strike, he whacked a nearby bush on its base. Dozens of butterflies launched into the air.

The flight of few caused a chain reaction, and soon they blanketed the sky. Several landed in her hair and on her arms while more flew overhead.

Arwan tilted his head back to the sky. Ashley gasped and stared at the countless array of colors gliding overhead. A butterfly rested on his shoulder, pumping its cobalt blue wings. She gently blew on it, her warm breath caressing his neck.

His chest swelled with longing. He clenched his jaw. Watching her lips form into a soft circle, she continued to blow on its colorful wings. He had never wanted someone so fiercely. She brought something out of him he couldn’t control. Something instinctual, animalistic. He watched her lips, longing to kiss her. To feel her mouth pressed against his. The need surged in his chest and spread throughout his limbs. He tensed and pulled her closer.

He knew he had to be gentle. As much as he tried to conceal the need, it threatened to destroy him if he didn’t at least try. Slowly, he leaned in to kiss her. His lips hovered above hers. Her hot breath broke over his mouth.

Ashley gasped and stepped back. Her teary eyes forced him to look away. He silently cursed himself. He’d pushed her too far.

“I…” The hurt in her voice surprised him. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Before he could respond, Ashley ran back toward the house, leaving him alone in the clearing.

He watched her stumble through the trees until she was gone. The jungle was quiet, except for the sound of chirping birds and the rustling of lemurs in the trees.

He turned, balling his fists. What the hell was he thinking? He’d known that if he tried to kiss her, it would push her away. He should have shown more restraint.

Each of his steps pounded against the jungle floor. The birds’ chirps ceased, and the lemurs took quiet refuge in the branches. When he escaped the maze of bushes, he charged his fist into the trunk of a mature tree, spitting layers of bark and redwood in every direction.


A long time enthusiast of things that go bump in the night, Theresa started her writing career as a journalism intern—possibly the least creative writing field out there. After her first semester at a local newspaper, she washed her hands of press releases and features articles to delve into the whimsical world of young adult paranormal romance.

Since then, Theresa has gotten married, had three terrific kids, moved to central Ohio, and was repeatedly guilt tripped into adopting a menagerie of animals that are now members of the family. But don’t be fooled by her domesticated appearance. Her greatest love is travel. Having stepped foot on the soil of over a dozen countries, traveled to sixteen U.S. states—including an extended seven-year stay in Kodiak, Alaska—she is anything but settled down. But wherever life brings her, she will continue to weave tales of adventure and love with the hope her stories will bring joy and inspiration to her readers.

Giveaway: Set of 4 books “DARK SECRETS” series

Leave a comment to enter this fantastic giveaway! An excerpt of Book Four – Mark of Betrayal follows the description.

(Giveaway will be in the form of Smashwords code for all four books)

Mark of Betrayal

Dark Secrets Series, Book Four

A. M. Hudson

Genre: Paranormal romance

ISBN: 978-0-9871925-9-2

Word Count: 170, 000


Book Description:

A love so strong fire and torture could not break it. A heart so pure neither death nor hate could taint it. But, left alone in a world of lies and secrets, Ara will find herself down the road of treachery, walking very dangerous ground, while those closest to her fight to keep her safe from dangers unseen.

The boundaries between friends and enemies will blur, and the return of an old friend will see Ara crossing a line she can never return from.


Excerpt of Mark of Betrayal

(#4 Dark Secrets series)

By A. M. Hudson


He took my hand and drew me closer, sliding his cool touch down my spine and back up again, lifting my dress, taking it over my head. I watched it fall to the floor in the dark, tucking my elbows into my bare chest—not quite ready to let him see.

“You’re so tiny. Such a fragile little thing.” He cupped his hand to the side of my face, gently moving my wrists away from my chest. “Don’t be scared, Amara. I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not scared,” I whispered in a shaky breath. “It’s just…it just feels so wrong.”

“I know.” He slid his fingers down my face, over my neck and cupped my hips. “Let’s just do this quickly, okay. Lay down.”

My knees trembled until I felt the ground beneath them—felt the aged blood and sweat these floorboards had soaked up since this whole thing began. And Arthur lowered himself, too, kneeling before me, making the hairs along my neck prickle under his smooth touch. He traced every inch of my spine, slowly wrapping me up in his arms; I felt small but safe, cradled into his chest.

“You smell like strawberries,” he said, kissing my neck; his lips were so warm, so wet and so foreign, his breath hot down the curve of my tight shoulder—his teeth grazing the flesh above my artery. And it felt nice, but wrong; this was Arthur—not David, not even Jason; he was my husband’s uncle—a man I looked up to. A man I cared about, but never wanted to be with this way. I closed my eyes, praying for strength.

“It’s time,” he whispered in my ear, and though my stomach was tight and my body so stiff I could hardly swallow, I managed to roll myself back, restraining my tears, focusing on the chill of the cold ground on my tailbone, up each vertebra in my spine and across my shoulders. As I lay flat, the world around me felt wider, larger, like there was suddenly more space, or like the roof I’d seen a thousand times before, laying right here, usually pinned by a knight, seemed to sit miles up in the sky.

My chest lifted, my ribs expanding around the fear and hesitation inside me. “What are you looking at?” I asked Arthur.

He studied my thigh, running his hand along it so slowly I held my breath. “You’re just so young, Amara—too young.”

“I’m nineteen.”

“Precisely.” He dropped his hand, his head following. “I’m afraid what this will do to you.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

He laughed, but I couldn’t really see his smile; his face was shadowed by the darkness. He could see me, though—his perfect vampire vision making him privilege to all the things I would never have showed him. I bit my lip when his cool touch parted my legs at the knees, and he knelt between them, his bare hip brushing the inside of my thigh.

“Oh, God,” I said to myself.

“Just don’t look.” He wiped his thumb over my eyelid. “Just close your eyes.”

“I…I can’t,” I said, looking up at him, and I couldn’t help it, I cried.

He clicked his tongue, sinking back on his heels. “Amara.”

“I’m okay. I’m…I’m okay.” I let my knees fall softly together.

“You’re not okay.”

I nodded. “I am.”

“We can do this another time if you’re not ready.”

I shook my head. “It needs to be now.”

He moistened his lips, breathing out through his nose, his eyes square with hesitation. “Okay. Just…just imagine I’m him.”

I nodded, tangling my fingers in my hair when he reached for the rim of my underwear.

“Lift your hips. We won’t get far with these in the way.”

I shut my eyes again, feeling the lace slip past my thighs, over my knees and away from my ankles. And we were naked. Together. My legs completely open; Arthur between them. He slid his hands under my bottom and pulled me forward so the harder part of him brushed softly against the warmest part of me.

I looked into his eyes, seeing the fear and concern I was feeling, too. One movement, one millimetre and he’d be in me—and with just a few strokes, all this would be over. Providing I actually fell pregnant.

“I’m just going to check you before I put myself in you—make sure you’re wet.”

“Wai—?” My toes curled over and I jumped when he placed a cold finger just inside me, then pulled it away.

“You’re not ready. It’ll hurt if you’re dry.”

All I could feel was a flood of adrenaline in my arms, making them weak, unattached, disturbed by the tension and memory of his finger inside me, and as soon as that feeling reached my heart, I broke apart into a mess of short, hiccupping sobs.

Author Bio:

A. M. Hudson loves her life in Australia and, despite wishing it would snow at Christmas, couldn’t imagine living anywhere else in the world.

She fell in love with her husband at just sixteen, and since then, has added three boys to the mix.

A. M. prides herself on writing the shocking, the depthy and the highly-emotional subjects other writers steer away from. She addresses the uncomfortable with conviction and enjoys taking stories down dark paths.

Some of her heroes are Stephen King, Walt Disney, Hamish and Andy, Muse and 30 Seconds to Mars, and with influences like these, one can only imagine what stories will unfold.

When she’s not writing, A. M. reads books, watches movies and chats with fans on Facebook.

FACEBOOK: http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Dark-Secrets-Series/182780011734465

TWITTER: https://twitter.com/AMHudsonAuthor

GOODREADS: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15780423-mark-of-betrayal

WEBSITE: http://www.darksecretsseries.com/



Win a Signed Copy of “Touching Evil”

Good Stuff! Yeah, I’m talking about Touching Evil by Amber Garr but I’m also referring to the contest where you can win:
1     Signed paperback copy of Touching Evil with SWAG (US Only)
2     ebook copies via coupons (INT)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

I’m happy to welcome Amber Garr, an amazing Urban Fantasy author. Her latest release, “Touching Evil”, introduces us to Leila Marx – and a brand new series ripe with demons, sorcery and the struggle to stay alive.

Amber, The Syrenka Series bore a mythological feel with Mermaids, Selkies and creatures of the sea. I’m sure your marine biology background helped in researching those stories. This time, however, you’ve delved into a darker subject with demons, sorcery and psychic gifts. How did you prepare for the Leila Marx Novels?

No, marine biology didn’t help me on this one! I have always been a huge fan of vampires, werewolves, witches, etc. and have read a ton of stories with mythology of these creatures intertwined and tweaked to the authors taste. I researched my supernaturals, used what I liked and created what I didn’t. I think I will always need the explanations of their powers or characteristics to make sense scientifically. So as the series continue and we learn more about the other characters, I’ll have a chance to get creative. Leila’s gift is evolving, especially after her experiences in Touching Evil, so it may call for some more research or more creative flexibility!

I love the wonderful blend of a thriller with paranormal elements. Was it difficult writing
about the technical side of a murder investigation?

Thank you! I love reading detective/mystery novels (like Jonathon Kellerman, Patricia Cornwell, etc) and am a fan of many of those TV shows. I should probably say that I spent some time in a police station doing my research, but really I used what I’d developed in my head from all of those resources. It was a little difficult…I didn’t want to go full Grim on it, but still wanted to get the supernatural crowd interested.

You’ve written for both YA and the adult market. Which do you prefer and why?

Tough question. I wrote the adult novel first, but enjoyed living in the head of teenagers for a year and a half. I’m looking forward to writing more of Leila’s story and although it’s pretty tame right now (due to her mindset), I’m excited to see where I can go with characters in their late 20’s. So you might need to ask me that again in a year.

The bio on your website says you obsess over the unknown. What kind of answers are you
seeking, and why?

Well, as a scientist, I am always asking ‘why’ and ‘how’ when it comes to the animals and environments I work with. So in that respect, I get paid to obsess over the unknown! But I also want to know why my cat sits and stares at the same corner on the ceiling every night like she’s watching something (or someone). Or why I’ll dream about a person being pregnant and it often turns out to be true. I recently posted a story on my blog about an experience I (well, more my cat) had in a cemetery, and it makes me question a noise, a shadow, or those creepy feelings. My imagination is always working!

Your books play with a bit of “fear factor” in some characters. What scares you?

Flying and heights. And sometimes a lot of ants. I’d like to think that I’d stay calm if I ever met a supernatural being, but I don’t know if I would.

I’ve also heard you have a love for dancing. What style of dancing do you enjoy? Have you
taken lessons or are you a free spirit who lets the tune move you?

I was a classically trained ballerina for a very long time, and at one point thought that’s what I’d be doing professionally. But I enjoy all styles of dance, although I’m really bad at hip hop – something about that ballet training! Now I get to teach and choreograph and I love it. Dancing will always be a part of who I am.

What can we expect from Leila Marx in the second book of the series?

Ooh – I have such plans! Her experience with the demon will have a lasting impact on her abilities. Some of the unresolved matters with her fiancé’s murder will return. Conner will be back, and we’re going to spend more time with the vampires, werewolves, and fae. I can’t wait to get started!

And now for a little fun. If you could morph into any mythological creature, what would it
be and why?

I would want to be immortal. History is so cool, I think it would be the neatest thing ever to experience multiple generations of change. Of course there is still a part of me that wants to live underwater…

Touching Evil

Book One of The Leila Marx Novels
Amber Garr

Genre: Urban Fantasy

ISBN: 978-1480021594

ISBN 10: 1480021598)

Number of pages: 326

Word Count: 81,000

Cover Artist: Amber Garr

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/1z7SEGu0jwo

Book Description:

Leila Marx is trying to put her life back together after her fiancé is murdered. Her book illustrating career has limited her social contact and nightmares have trapped her in the past. When a police acquaintance enlists her help with a difficult case, Leila is surprisingly thankful to have a purpose. Not only will this help to keep her mind focused, but she will be able to use her talents as a touch clairvoyant that are frequently dismissed by skeptics. Leila and Detective Garrick Pearson delve into the mystery behind a series of missing teenage girls and mummified corpses while fighting their own growing attraction to each other.

Conner Hoffman is an intriguing lawyer and striking half-demon who enters Leila’s life unexpectedly. Although her visions are terrifying, she is fascinated by his charm and his legacy. When it becomes evident that the murders are linked to a paranormal event, Conner introduces Leila to a world unbeknownst to ordinary society. She suddenly finds herself immersed in supernatural politics, sorcery, and danger as she becomes the killer’s next target. Staying alive will mean relying on friends, accepting the unbelievable, and trusting in her heart again.

Short Excerpt

What does one wear when they commit the first felony of their life? I probably spent two hours going through my closest trying to find something criminal. It had to be black. Yes, definitely black. I finally settled on a turtleneck, spandex workout pants, and the only pair of black sneakers I’d ever owned. They were left over from my waitressing days and I was pleasantly surprised to see that they were still in good shape, even if they did smell a little like grease.

I just finished pulling my hair back into a low bun, like spy girls do in the movies, when the doorbell rang. Conner was here and my heart fluttered instantly. Last night had been a lot of fun and I really enjoyed my evening with Garrick, but this was the first time any man had been to my house who wasn’t a part of the police force since Russ was killed. This was also the first time I’d ever had a half demon in the house, at least as far as I knew. After another quick glance in the mirror, I bounced over to the door.

And as soon as I opened it I realized how much of a dork I must have looked like.

There was Conner, in a regular pair of jeans and a college sweatshirt doing all that he could not to laugh at me. I glared up at him.

“What? No one told me what to wear so I had to improvise.” He started laughing but then choked it back down when I tried to close the door on him. His foot shot out and blocked my attempt.

“I’m sorry. You look good. Really.” He smiled fully at me and then bowed his head as he put his hands together in a prayer-like position. “May I have permission to enter my ninja warrior princess?”

I could see his shoulders shake with amusement again and I refused to be embarrassed. With an exaggerated sigh, I walked back into my bedroom, leaving Conner to let himself in. I decided that he should wallow in uncomfortable silence for a while, although when I came back into the living room and saw him flipping through some of my illustrations, I realized he was unfazed.

“These are really good. You’re quite talented.” I stood there, leaning against the wall for a few seconds trying to judge if he was being serious or not. Just as I started to give him the benefit of the doubt, he arched an eyebrow my way and said, “A much better artist than fashionista.”

I threw the sweatshirt I had in my hands at him and stomped over to the kitchen. His laugh consumed the room and I was surprised to find a smile on my face as I opened the refrigerator.

“Should we take snacks?” I asked. We were going to drive to a spot close to the house and wait until it was clear. I’d been told that it might take several hours and I didn’t want the cambion getting hungry while we waited.

“Sure, if you want. Maybe some water would be good.” It was obvious that he enjoyed my lack of stake-out abilities.

I grabbed one of my reusable grocery bags and filled it up with water, crackers, and Twizzlers. All of the essentials. I briefly considered grabbing a bottle of wine to control my anxiety, but decided against it in the end.

“So, are we ready to go?” I asked as I hoisted the bag on my shoulder and grabbed the sweatshirt back. He studied me for a moment and then pulled an object from his back pocket.

“Not until you put this on,” he said as he tossed something small and black at me. It was a ski mask, one of those ones that covered everything except for your eyes. I pulled it over my head and batted my lashes.

“Am I ready now?”

He laughed and took the snack bag off my shoulder. “Yes, Leila. I think you’re ready for a life of crime.”


 About The Author:

Amber Garr spends her days conducting scientific experiments and wondering if her next door neighbor is secretly a vampire.  Born in Pennsylvania, she lives in Florida with her husband and their furry kids.  Her childhood imaginary friend was a witch, Halloween is sacred, and she is certain that she has a supernatural sense of smell.  She writes both adult and young adult urban fantasies and when not obsessing over the unknown, she can be found dancing, reading, or enjoying a good movie.\Website