Sunday, May 1, 2016

Snippet Sunday: Witch's Moonstone Locket: A Coon Hollow Coven Tale #99cents #PNR #SnippetSunday #8Sunday

I'm participating in the Weekend Warriors Snippet Sunday. Find samples from other participating authors at the Weekend Warriors Snippet Sunday list .
From 
Witch's Moonstone Locket: 
A Coon Hollow Coven Tale
NOW ON SALE for 99 cents through May 3rd!
From a pink Depression glass tray, Adara slipped on the marcasite ring she’d worn since being appointed the coven’s high priestess, worn by all previous women of power in her family. In the shape of a snake, it coiled around her left ring finger, a constant reminder that her path in life was coven leadership. Dreams of exciting new love belonged to the girl she once was, but the woman she’d become appreciated the advantages of power and control.

In her bedroom, she walked to the black cherry bureau that held a large inlaid jewel case. She opened it and selected onyx drop earrings and threaded their wires into her lobes. Last and most important, she lifted a massive onyx pendant to her throat.

Unlike Adara’s mother, whose Sight required no aid, her father had adopted that pendant as his focus amulet when he became high priest. He died while wearing it, and therefore much of his power remained in the gemstone.

While cleaning out the house she’d inherited, Adara worked for a week to find the spell that opened the locked drawer of the roll-top desk. Her reward was that pendant and the energy it contained.

Genre: Paranormal romance
Description:

Twenty-three-year-old Jancie Sadler was out of the room when her mother died, and her heart still longs for their lost goodbye. Aching to ease her sorrow, Aunt Starla gives Jancie a diary that changes her entire life. In entries from the 1930s, her great grandmother revealed how she coped with her own painful loss by seeking out a witch from nearby Coon Hollow Coven. The witch wore the griever’s moonstone locket, which allowed whoever could unlock its enchantment to talk with the dead.

Determined to find that locket, Jancie goes to the coven’s annual carnival held in her small southern Indiana town of Bentbone. This opposes her father’s strict rule: stay away from witches. But she’s an adult now and can make her own decisions. She meets Rowe McCoy, the kind and handsome witch who wears the moonstone. He agrees to let her try to open the locket, but they’re opposed by High Priestess Adara and her jealous desire to possess him. Desperate for closure with her mother, Jancie persists and cannot turn away from a perilous path filled with magic, romance, and danger.

Series description:

The Coon Hollow Coven Tales series is about a coven of witches in a fictitious southern Indiana community, south of Bloomington, the neck of the woods where I spent my favorite childhood years surrounded by the love of a big family. The books are rich with a warm Hoosier down-home feel. There are interesting interactions between coven members and locals from the nearby small town of Bentbone. If magic wasn’t enough of a difference between the two groups, the coven folk adhere to the 1930s lifestyle that existed when the coven formed.

A note to readers: the books in the Coon Hollow Coven Tales series are written to be read in any order. The series is about one community, and its residents may pass in and out of various books, but each book has its own unique and special story to be told.

Coon Hollow Coven Tales include:

Blood Ice & Oak Moon (coming autumn 2016)

Here's the Goodreads link for you to add the book to your TBR list. https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24807853-witch-s-moonstone-locket
For special book contests and news about my upcoming releases, sign up for my newsletter using this link: http://bit.ly/MarshaAMooreNewsletter

*~*~*
Marsha A. Moore is a writer of fantasy romance. The magic of art and nature spark life into her writing. Read her COON HOLLOW TALES of paranormal romance and her ENCHANTED BOOKSTORE LEGENDS for adventurous epic fantasy romance. For a FREE ebook download, read her historic fantasy, LE CIRQUE DE MAGIE, available at Amazon and Smashwords.

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Release day! Witch's Cursed Cabin: A Coon Hollow Coven Tale

A new Coon Hollow Coven Tale! 
And to celebrate the big event, the first tale, Witch's Moonstone Locket, is on sale for 99 cents. 
It's a great time to take a trip down into the Hollow!

Genre: Paranormal romance
Witch's Cursed Cabin- description:
Eager to be on her own away from home, twenty-year-old Aggie Anders accepts a relative’s invitation to live in Coon Hollow Coven. Although she’s a witch from a different coven, what locals say about the Hollow confuses her. How can witchcraft there live and breathe through souls of the dead?
Aggie’s new residence in this strange southern Indiana world is a deserted homestead cabin. The property’s carriage house serves as the coven’s haunted Halloween fundraiser. It’s a great opportunity for her to make new friends, especially with the coven’s sexy new High Priest Logan.
But living in the homestead also brings Aggie enemies. Outsiders aren’t welcome. A cantankerous, old neighbor tries to frighten her off by warning her that the homestead is cursed. Local witches who practice black magic attempt to use their evil to drive Aggie away and rid their coven of her unusual powers as a sun witch.
Determined to stay and fit in, Aggie discovers not only that the cabin is cursed, but she alone is destined to break the curse before moonrise on Samhain. If she fails, neither the living nor the dead will be safe.

Series description:
      The Coon Hollow Coven Tales series is about a coven of witches in a fictitious southern Indiana community, south of Bloomington, the neck of the woods where I spent my favorite childhood years surrounded by the love of a big family. The books are rich with a warm Hoosier down-home feel. There are interesting interactions between coven members and locals from the nearby small town of Bentbone. If magic wasn’t enough of a difference between the two groups, the coven folk adhere to the 1930s lifestyle that existed when the coven formed. 
       A note to readers: the books in the Coon Hollow Coven Tales series are written to be read in any order. The series is about one community, and its residents may pass in and out of various books, but each book has its own unique and special story to be told.

Available on Amazon
Here's the Goodreads link for you to add Witch's Cursed Cabin to your TBR list.
For special book contests and news about my upcoming releases, sign up for my newsletter using this link: http://bit.ly/MarshaAMooreNewsletter
Excerpt:
from Chapter One: The Homestead

A shove of my shoulder pried the rusty hinges on the heavy log cabin door loose. I flung my blond braid to my back and peered inside. Beings and critters, alive and furry as well as undead and translucent, flew, crawled, or slithered across dark recesses of the hallway, sitting room, and stairwell. 

“You weren’t kidding. This place is haunted.” I shuddered and looked over my shoulder at Cerise. She looked perky as always with her dark bobbed hair and lively brown eyes beneath horn-rimmed eyeglasses. “Were those things relations or varmints?” I took a cautious step over the threshold to escape the blustery weather and unbuttoned my corduroy jacket.
“Oh, both, Aggie. Ghosts of witch kin and their talking animal familiars,” she said and moved past me to lift sheets off the sitting room furniture.

I raised a brow, curious about what talking familiars were but was too afraid to ask. She didn’t seem to think they were bad, and I needed a place to stay.

Cerise dropped the sheets in a pile and wiped her dusty hands on her skirt. “Those sorts of ghosts are in all the homes here in Coon Hollow Coven. Maybe some animal spirits, too, from the surrounding woods. This property has at least fifty acres of forest. The ghosts are harmless, part of the family. At least no neighbors have complained, that I’ve heard.”

Eyeing corners of the parlor and the length of the hall, I wondered if I could ever get used to living with ghosts of people who’d lived here before. In New Wish, Indiana, where I’d spent my entire twenty years, we only had an occasional ghost. Usually lost souls who, for some reason, hadn’t found their peace before death took them. Most times, those folks had been tormented by darkness and experimented with black magic while they’d lived. Or so Mom told me, but I always thought that was just her way of keeping me in line.

I pushed those thoughts out of my head. I wanted a place of my own more than anything else, and not in the tiny town of New Wish where everyone knew me…or thought they did. They all said I was the spitting image of my Aunt Faye, with the same light blond straight hair, deep blue eyes, dark brows, and quiet personality. Everyone thought I’d grow up to be like her with a houseful of kids, seven or more. Fact was, they didn’t know me. I wasn’t sure I even knew myself. There was so much I wanted to learn and do that wouldn’t happen if I stayed at my parents’ home.

Cerise struggled to open the stuck window. “Aggie, can you help me here? Some fresh air might tempt a few spirits outside. This place has been vacant since my mother passed in 2009. We might find just about anything in here after five years.”

Witch's Moonstone Locket - description:
     Twenty-three-year-old Jancie Sadler was out of the room when her mother died, and her heart still longs for their lost goodbye. Aching to ease her sorrow, Aunt Starla gives Jancie a diary that changes her entire life. In entries from the 1930s, her great grandmother revealed how she coped with her own painful loss by seeking out a witch from nearby Coon Hollow Coven. The witch wore the griever’s moonstone locket, which allowed whoever could unlock its enchantment to talk with the dead.

     Determined to find that locket, Jancie goes to the coven’s annual carnival held in her small southern Indiana town of Bentbone. This opposes her father’s strict rule: stay away from witches. But she’s an adult now and can make her own decisions. She meets Rowe McCoy, the kind and handsome witch who wears the moonstone. He agrees to let her try to open the locket, but they’re opposed by High Priestess Adara and her jealous desire to possess him. Desperate for closure with her mother, Jancie persists and cannot turn away from a perilous path filled with magic, romance, and danger.  

On sale at Amazon for only 99 cents!

Excerpt:
from Chapter One: Great Aunt Starla’s Cornbread


Warm rain mixed with Jancie’s tears, and she rose to stand beside her mother’s grave. She bent at the waist and her fingers followed the arc of her mother’s name—Faye Sadler—in the headstone. From numerous visits, she knew the unyielding shape well. The word goodbye stuck in her throat. She’d said it aloud many times since her mother died six months ago, only to have the cemetery’s vast silence swallow her farewells. Rain beaded on the polished granite. Her hand, bearing her mother’s silver ring, slid down the stone and fell to her side.

If only she could’ve said goodbye to her mother before she died. After years of caring for her mom while she suffered with cancer, Jancie had missed the final parting moment while getting a quick bite of dinner. The pain still cut like a knife in her gut.

On foot, she retraced the too-familiar path toward her work at the Federal Bank. Although she’d landed a job as manager at the largest of the three banks in the small town of Bentbone, the position was a dead end. Within the first six months, she’d mastered all the necessary skills. Now, after a year, only the paycheck kept her there.

Jancie turned onto Maple Street. As usual, wind swept up the corridor, between old shade trees protecting houses, and met her at the top of the tall hill. September rain pelted her face and battled the Indian summer noontime temperatures. She zipped the rain parka to keep her dress dry, pulled on the strings of the hood, and corralled strands of ginger-colored hair that whipped into her eyes. She gazed farther into the valley, where the view spanned almost a mile out to the edge of town. Usually, farmers moved tractors across the road or boys raced skateboards and bikes down Maple Street’s long slope.

Today, on the deserted acreage just east of Bentbone, people moving in and out through a gate of the tall wooden fence breathed life into the rundown carnival. Surprised, Jancie crossed the street for a better view. She’d lost track of life around her since Mom passed. The coming Labor Day weekend in Bentbone meant the valley coven’s yearly carnival. She and her girlfriends always looked forward to the cute guys, fair food, and amazing magical rides and decorations, even if her father didn’t approve of witches or magic. The residents of the sleepy town awoke to welcome a host of tourists wanting to see the spectacle created by the witches of Coon Hollow Coven.

Somehow, Jancie had forgotten the big event this year. Last year, she didn’t go since Mom was so sick and couldn’t be left. Jancie sighed and turned onto the main street toward the bank. She’d lost so much since her mother passed. Really, since the diagnosis of cancer.

At that time, four years ago, Jancie withdrew as a sophomore from Hanover College, a select, private school in southern Indiana near the Kentucky border—too far away. Instead, she returned to stay with her mother and commuted to Indiana University. Balancing hours with the home health care nurse, Jancie had few choices of career paths. Not that it mattered, since her remarried father expected her to find a job in Bentbone and continue taking care of her mother. Despite the sacrifices, Jancie loved her mother, who’d always managed money for a few special things for Jancie—a new bike, birthday parties, prom dresses—even though their income was tight. Mom had paid for her tuition and listened to every new and exciting college experience.

Jancie smiled at the memory of Mom’s twinkling brown eyes, that mirrored her own, when she asked about what happened during the day’s classes: if Jancie liked the professor; if she’d made new friends.

When she rounded the last corner, she returned to her work day. At the bleak, limestone bank building, reality hit. Jancie pulled against the heavy glass door, and a gust swept her inside. She peeled off the drenched jacket and hung it on the coat rack of her small, plain office.

Through the afternoon’s doldrums, punctuated by only a handful of customers, her mind wandered to the carnival. She’d gone dozens of times before and loved it. But since Mom passed, nothing seemed fun anymore, like she couldn’t connect with herself and had forgotten how to have a good time. She organized a stack of notes, anything to put the concern out of her mind.

***
After work, Jancie drove her old blue Camry the five miles to the other end of town where she lived in her mother’s white frame house, the home where she grew up, now hers. Glad to own her own place, unlike her friends who rented, she’d made a few easy changes. In the living room, a new brown leather couch with a matching chair and ottoman. She replaced the bedroom furniture with a new oak suite for herself in what used to be her mother’s room. With pay saved from the bank, Jancie could remodel or build on, but she didn’t know what she wanted yet. Her great aunt Starla had told her to just wait and hold onto her money; she’d know soon enough.

Pouring rain soaked the hem of her dress as she darted between the garage shed and back stoop of the small ranch house.

Glad she’d chosen to get her run in this morning before work, she changed into cozy sweats, pulled the long part of her tapered hair into a ponytail, and headed for the kitchen.

Her phone alerted her of a text, and she read the message from her friend Rachelle, always the social director of their group: R we going to the carnival?

Jancie typed a response. I guess. R Lizbeth and Willow going?

Yep whole gang. What day?

Don’t know yet. Get back to u. Jancie worried she’d spoil their fun. Even though they’d all been her best friends since high school and would understand her moodiness, she didn’t want to ruin one of the best times of the year for them. Since Mom passed, they’d taken her out to movies and shopping in Bloomington, but this was different. Could it ever match up to the fun of all the times before? “I don’t know if I’m up to that,” she said into open door of the old Kenmore refrigerator while rummaging for leftovers of fried chicken and corn.

The meal satisfied and made her thankful she’d learned how to cook during those years with Mom. Not enough dishes to bother with the dishwasher, one of the modern upgrades to the original kitchen, Jancie washed the dishes by hand and then called Starla. When she answered, Jancie asked, “Can I come over tonight? There’s something I’m needing your opinion on.”

“Why sure, Jancie. C’mon over,” the eighty-five-year-old replied with her usual warm drawl. “Are you wantin’ dinner? I made me some soup beans with a big hambone just butchered from Bob’s hog. My neighbor Ellie came over and had some. She said they were the best she’s eaten.”

Jancie glanced at the soggy rain parka and opted for an umbrella instead. “No, I just ate. Be right over.” Keys and purse in hand, she hung up and darted for the shed.

Five minutes later, she turned onto the drive of the eldercare apartments and parked under the steel awning where Starla gave her a whole arm wave from her picture window. Jancie made her way to number twelve on the first floor.

The door opened, and Starla engulfed Jancie in a bear hug, pulling her into the pillow of a large, sagging bosom. Starla smelled of her signature scent—rosewater and liniment.

Jancie had loved her great aunt’s hugs as long as she could remember. Stress and worry melted away, and she hugged back. Her arm grazed Starla’s white curls along the collar of her blue knit top embroidered with white stars—her great aunt’s favorite emblem.

“It’s so good to see you. Come sit a spell, while I get us some iced tea.” Starla pulled away and gestured to the microsuede couch decorated with three crocheted afghans in a rainbow of colors. “I thought we were done with this hot weather, but not quite yet. That rain today’s been a gully washer but didn’t cool things off much.” The large-boned woman scuffed her pink-house-slippered feet toward the kitchen. “Would you rather have pound cake from the IGA or homemade cornbread?”

Jancie laughed and followed her into the kitchen. She wouldn’t get through the visit without eating. “You’re just fishin’ for a compliment. You know your homemade cornbread is better.”

Starla arranged plates with thick slices of warm cornbread and big pats of butter on top, while Jancie transferred the refreshments to the aluminum dinette table.

“With your hair pulled back like that, you’re a dead ringer for your Ma. So pretty with that same sweetheart-shaped face.” Starla folded herself onto a chair beside Jancie. “You look to be getting on well…considering what all you’ve been through.”

“I’m doing okay,” Jancie said through a mouthful of the moist cornbread. She washed it down with a swallow of brisk tea that tasted fresh-brewed. “But sometimes, lots of times, I feel lost, like I can’t move on.” She ran a hand across her forehead. “I didn’t get to say goodbye. I spent time with her through all those years, and it shouldn’t matter, but it does every time I visit her grave and most every night in my dreams.”

“Oh, honey. I know it hurts.” Starla smoothed Jancie’s ponytail down the middle of her back and spoke with a voice so slow and warm, it felt like a handmade quilt wrapping around her.  “You spent all that time and gave so much. Just like when I cared for my husband some twenty years back. I know. I never got the chance to tell Harry goodbye either. Time will heal all hurts.”

Jancie looked down at the marbleized tabletop to hide her teary eyes. “I don’t think I’m ever going to heal, Aunt Starla. I don’t know if I can ever move on.”

“There is one thing you can try. I’d have done it, if I’d have known before decades softened my aching heart. Way back, I was desperate like you.”

Jancie looked into Starla’s blue-gray eyes, set deep inside wrinkled lids.

Her aunt leaned closer. “Not many know about this,” she whispered as if someone outside the apartment door might hear. “There’s an old story about how a member of the Coon Hollow Coven, one who’s recently lost a loved one, is made the teller of the moonstone tale.”

Jancie rolled her eyes. “That’s just a silly story, one of lots that Mom and Dad told to scare me when I was little, so I’d stay away from the coven. When the moonstone locket opens at the end of the tale, you’ll get your wish but also be cursed.”

“Oh no.” Starla shook her head and pushed away from the table. “Let me get Aunt Maggie’s old diary. I got this in a box of old family things when Cousin Dorothy passed.” She lumbered to her spare bedroom and returned with a worn, black-leather volume only a little larger than her wide palm. Once seated, she thumbed through the yellowed pages. “Here.” She pointed a finger and placed the book between them.
*~*~*
Marsha A. Moore is a writer of fantasy romance. The magic of art and nature spark life into her writing. Read her COON HOLLOW TALES of paranormal romance and her ENCHANTED BOOKSTORE LEGENDS for adventurous epic fantasy romance. For a FREE ebook download, read her historic fantasy, LE CIRQUE DE MAGIE, available at Amazon and Smashwords.

Saturday, April 23, 2016

Spring into Summer 2016 Book #Giveaway


Enter the Spring Into Summer 2016 Book Giveaway to win over 40 prizes, books and other great items, as well as a Grand Prize of $100 in Paypal cash. I'm participating, along with 25 other authors in this great giveaway. The contest will run from April 23rd to midnight June 23rd. 

Use this Rafflecopter to enter:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
I'm offering two prizes, the first book in each of my two series: Enchanted Bookstore Legends & Coon Hollow Coven Tales.


Witch’s Moonstone Locket: A Coon Hollow Coven Tale
Genre: Paranormal fantasy romance
Description:
Twenty-three-year-old Jancie Sadler was out of the room when her mother died, and her heart still longs for their lost goodbye. Aching to ease her sorrow, Aunt Starla gives Jancie a diary that changes her entire life. In entries from the 1930s, her great grandmother revealed how she coped with her own painful loss by seeking out a witch from nearby Coon Hollow Coven. The witch wore the griever’s moonstone locket, which allowed whoever could unlock its enchantment to talk with the dead.

Determined to find that locket, Jancie goes to the coven’s annual carnival held in her small southern Indiana town of Bentbone. This opposes her father’s strict rule: stay away from witches. But she’s an adult now and can make her own decisions. She meets Rowe McCoy, the kind and handsome witch who wears the moonstone. He agrees to let her try to open the locket, but they’re opposed by High Priestess Adara and her jealous desire to possess him. Desperate for closure with her mother, Jancie persists and cannot turn away from a perilous path filled with magic, romance, and danger.    


Seeking a Scribe: Enchanted Bookstore Legend One 

Genre: Epic fantasy romance

Description:

Lyra McCauley is a writer and loves fantasy novels, but until she opens a selection from bookstore owner Cullen Drake, she has no idea he’s a wizard character who lives a double life inside that volume…or the story’s magic will compel her from the edge of depression to adventure, danger, and love. 

His gift to Lyra, the Book of Dragonspeir, was actually her copy, misplaced years ago. Lost in her pain following divorce and death, she fails to recognize him as her childhood playmate from the fantasyland. Friendship builds anew. Attraction sparks. But Lyra doubts whether a wizard is capable of love. She’s torn—should she protect her fragile heart or risk new love? 
Opening the book’s cover, she confronts a quest: save Dragonspeir from destruction by the Black Dragon before he utilizes power of August’s red moon to expand his strength and overthrow the opposing Imperial Dragon. Lyra accepts the challenge, fearing Cullen will perish if evil wins. Along with magical animal guides, Cullen helps her through many perils, but ultimately Lyra must use her own power…and time is running out.


Feel free to connect with me on any of these social media. I'm always happy to interact with readers. 

Amazon author page: amazon.com/author/marshaamoore
Goodreads author page  http://www.goodreads.com/marshaamoore
*~*~*
Marsha A. Moore is a writer of fantasy romance. The magic of art and nature spark life into her writing. Read her COON HOLLOW TALES of paranormal romance and her ENCHANTED BOOKSTORE LEGENDS for adventurous epic fantasy romance. For a FREE ebook download, read her historic fantasy, LE CIRQUE DE MAGIE, available at Amazon and Smashwords.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Friendship in the humorous PNR release, Tempting the Light ~guest post by Bonnie Gill #giveaway

I'm happy to have Bonnie Gill here today to share how friendships are an important theme in her new humorous paranormal romance release, Tempting the Light. Be sure to check out her book and also the great giveaway at the end of this post.


Friendship
guest post by Bonnie Gill

I have a close relationship with my friends. We’ve been together since grade school. They have made a major impact on my life and have always been there for me. They’ve seen me at my worst and best times and have accepted me with open arms and love. That’s what true friendship is all about. These ten women have made me laugh and cry throughout most of my life. They are always in my heart.

In Tempting The Light, Pepper is Abby’s best friend. She is there for her when she’s cursed and falling in love. I’m enclosing a snippet of the story.

About the Excerpt. 
Abby turned into the Jersey Devil the night before and changed back to a human the next morning. She doesn't remember what she did as the Jersey Devil. She’s talking to her best friend Pepper about it. I had so much fun writing them. 

Excerpt:

“You can’t remember anything?”
“It’s like that time I drank too many cosmos at Donna’s party and wore panties on my face and draped a sheet over my shoulders for a Superman cape," Abby said.
"You ran around cheering ‘I’m a superhero.’ Then you kissed Johnny stinky pits." Pepper shivered as if the temperature outside dropped twenty degrees.
"I can’t remember any of that night either, but I’m forever haunted by the pictures on social media." She made sure the end phrase held a silent scolding.
You swore you were Cat Woman, and called Carol the Penguin." She waddled around flapping her elbows. "She does resemble a penguin. Good times."

I wanted to thank Marsha for inviting me to guest post on her blog.
Do you reminisce about funny times with your friends? If so please comment with some of your funny stories.

Tempting The Light

L.A.M.P.S.
Book One
Bonnie Gill

Genre: Humorous Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Date of Publication:  April 20, 2016
Word Count: 75,000
Cover Artist:Fiona Jayde

Book Description

Bad luck magnet Abby Fitzpatrick gets fired, catches her boyfriend cheating with a mime, and is cursed by an evil genie who pops out of a tampon box. She’s bound and determined to remove the spell, and as fate would have it, the hottest guy she’s ever met is out to kill her.

River Stone, a Cryptid hunter for Legends and Myths Police Squad (L.A.M.P.S.), poses as a sheriff for Abby’s hometown of Haber Cove, New Jersey. He’s out to find and capture a man-eating gnome and bag the legendary Jersey Devil monster. Little does he realize, the woman who catches his heart is the same creature that he was sent to destroy.

Tempting the Light is the first novel in the L.A.M.P.S. series that features hunky secret agents who find true love while hunting and slaying dangerous Cryptids.

Book One: Legends and Myth Police Squad Series (L.A.M.P.S.)

Available at Amazon


Excerpt:
            Abby Fitzgerald didn’t expect a surprise birthday party when she got home today. She didn’t expect bold colored daisies or pretty wrapped gifts. But most of all she didn’t expect to find her live-in boyfriend Burt, engaged in a spooge-a-paloosa fest with a chick dressed as a mime. Her crazy old grandmother warned her she would be cursed on her twenty-fifth birthday, but who would have believed it?
Burt slapped his body up against the mime from behind in a vigorous frenzy on the sleigh styled queen-sized bed. The woman’s hands and painted white face pressed up against an invisible window with his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her vertical.
Seeing Abby, the mime's lips parted into an "O" breaking the sex-me-up red heart painted across them. She covered her mouth with her gloved hands.
Abby stared in horror at Burt with his mouth open and eyes closed, savoring the sheer ecstasy of screwing the mime. Her heart shattered shooting pulmonary shrapnel up her throat. He never looked like that when they were together.
"You’re freaking cheating on me?"
Burt’s eyes popped open, before he leaped from the bed. "Son of a . . ."
Abby dashed into the hallway bathroom, and rummaged in the crowded cabinet under the sink. "Where’s the damn Scrubbing Bubbles? Or better yet, the Borax?" She tossed a mildewed loofa and a half used bottle of honeysuckle hand lotion over her shoulder. They landed not far from Burt’s bare feet.
"Abby, I’m sorry. I was going to wait until after your birthday to tell you." He placed his hands on both sides of the bathroom door trim and leaned into the room. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I’m trying to find something to scour the sick image of you and your mime girlfriend from my eyes. Better yet, I’ll get the melon ball scooper." Unable to contain herself, she whipped a can of lemon scented shaving cream at his head.
He ducked but the foaming missile bounced off his hair-sprayed-until-bullet-proof hair. His nostrils flared like an enraged bull. Too bad that was all he had in common with the animal. "You’re acting irrational. Stop it."
True. Right now she couldn’t even think straight. "Get away from me."
"It doesn’t have to be like this," he said under his breath.
She ignored his statement and shoved his skinny five-foot-four-inch unclothed body aside and marched back into the bedroom.
The mime perched on the edge of the bed with a sheet wrapped around her naked body. She held up both hands in a stop gesture and waved them back and forth.
"Abby. Please settle down." Burt trailed behind her.
"Settle down? Do you know why I came home early?"
"No." He glanced at his watch then looked absolutely baffled.
"Because I got fired today, Burt."
He tilted his head to the side and wrinkled his rather large forehead. "Oh. Well, how were you planning to help me pay the rent then?"
She wished she had a gun to shoot the stupid out of him.
"Get out of my house." She jerked on the mime’s cover-up sheet. The mime pulled back. Abby yanked again but then let go, the mime did a back-flip somersault off the bed. Her pasty white face popped up on the other side of the mattress like a demented rodent in a whack-a-mole game. 
"This is my apartment," Burt raised his voice louder and pointed at the mime. "You don’t have to go anywhere."
The mime amplified her smile by pointing to the corners of her lips and twisting her fingers in her imaginary dimples, then she proceeded to skip and do a naked happy dance in circles around Abby.
Abby gave her a shove out of her way. "What the heck is her problem? Doesn’t she talk?"
Burt shrugged. "I don’t know. She hasn’t said a word since we met. It’s one of her perks."
Abby slammed her fist into the side of her leg to keep from punching the detestable smart-ass smirk that spread across his face. Her fantasy of a blissful marriage and white picket fence shattered in one measly, heinous moment.
"How long has this been going on? Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know." She marched over to the closet, grabbed her blue duffle bag, and stuffed a few pairs of her size two jeans into it. She then looked down at his exposed mini-manly parts and raised a questioning brow.
Burt’s eyes widened to a bug-eyed look and then he scattered to pull on a pair of whity-tighties.
She stalked over to her dresser, pulled out different colored T-shirts, and a stack of clean underwear to shove in her bag. She hesitated for a moment. "The other day, I saw you in the jewelry store buying something. I—I thought you might."
Before she could finish, the mime flashed the back of her hand at Abby. A pink princess cut rock set in a platinum setting adorned the ring finger of her left hand.
Burt sent a reprimanding scowl in the mime’s direction. "It just happened."
Her heart went numb first, before the shredding feeling of a weed-whacker tore through it.
"Wonderful." She stormed out of the room and into the kitchen, pulling worthless knick-knacks from their displayed posts and cramming them in her bag. A satisfied smile lifted her cheeks when she held up Burt’s prized Fifty States Commemorative Quarter collection for him to see.
"You wouldn’t dare. Put that back." He swiped at the coins but missed.
"Yes, I would and I’m leaving you." She jammed the cardboard display in the duffle, and swung her bag of belongings over her shoulder.  "I hope you have many ugly clown babies." She slammed the apartment door behind her.
While trudging to her car the whooshing blood of each heart beat thumped like sonic booms in Abby’s ears. She tossed her bag into the trunk and marched over to Burt’s yellow Volkswagen Beetle. She pulled back her foot and gave it a hard kick in the tire. I wonder how many girlfriends he can cram into that thing at one time?
She sat behind her steering wheel in silence. Too bad she couldn’t pull a do-over for the day. Her grandmother must have been psychic.


About the Author:

Bonnie Gill grew up in the suburbs right outside Chicago. As a child she loved making up ghost stories at night to scare her sisters and friends.

She writes Paranormal Romance with a twist of humor. When she isn’t writing you can find her on a haunted tour, volunteering at pet rescues, or digging around in her fairy garden waiting for fairies to show. She’s a member of Romance Writers of America, the Fantasy, Futuristic, and Paranormal chapter and the Windy City chapter.

She lives in Northern Illinois with her four rescue dogs, a big fat cat, and her ever patient boyfriend who laughs at all her goofy jokes.

She loves to hear from her readers.


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*~*~*
Marsha A. Moore is a writer of fantasy romance. The magic of art and nature spark life into her writing. Read her COON HOLLOW TALES of paranormal romance and her ENCHANTED BOOKSTORE LEGENDS for adventurous epic fantasy romance. For a FREE ebook download, read her historic fantasy, LE CIRQUE DE MAGIE, available at Amazon and Smashwords.

Friday, April 8, 2016

Inspiration for the urban fantasy Truth Unveiled: Daughter of Ravenswood ~guest post by Kim Cleary

Today I'm happy to have Kim Cleary as my guest. She's sharing information about what inspired her to write her new urban fantasy Truth Unveiled, the second book of her Daughter of Ravenswood series, filled with all sorts of adventures with witches and ghosts.


Thank you for having me on your blog Illusions of Intimacy I’m delighted to be here. Last month I launched Truth Unveiled, the second novel in my Daughter of Ravenswood series and my head is still spinning!

I'm often asked where I get my ideas. Usually in the form of a quizzical gaze and a question such as: did you get all that stuff out of your head?

The answer is yes, and no. My head is often bursting with ideas, but often half formed and vaguely understood ones.

While writing, and rewriting, the Daughter of Ravenswood series, I Googled, researched, and pinned a host of interesting material. I spent time (probably longer than I should have) with Ravens, necromancy, oak trees, and the tools of a witches trade, the making of whiskey, gorgeous ruby gems, body decomposition and quite a few other odd things. Google and Pinterest can be very entertaining as well as informative!

When I first started writing the Daughter of Ravenswood series, I didn't know if it would be set in a totally made up world, or a future version of our own world. Both sounded intriguing, both provided significant writing challenges.

I'm not quite enough of a nerd to enjoy creating a whole new world. But if I stuck to my own experience and knowledge, I'd have a very boring book — which is not what any writer is aiming for! 

Using this world, with which readers are so familiar, would require a lot of research. As I have chronic fatigue, adding time to writing preparation is something I try and avoid. Like most people I can get lost in Google search, lose hours at a time in Pinterest, and it's best not to mention what happens when I get caught up in an interesting book of the paper variety (whoever invented toasted sandwiches and chips for dinner deserves a big kiss).

After a few half-hearted attempts to build a new world for my story, I decided to stick with our own well known world, but after such a catastrophe it was dramatically changed from today. The setting is vaguely Welsh, certainly northern hemisphere. The impacts of a deadly plague, a few wandering undead and climate change (to name a few!) have significantly affected the way people live. But the reader doesn't need to know all of this detail, just pieces that are relevant to the story.

A key element in this world is magic. Magic and paganism have come to the fore and filled a gap left by the loss of old religions, centralised government and technology. For our heroine, the most important thing is that while witches are relatively commonplace. Witches who can raise the dead, necromancers like herself, are not.

Ghosts feature in this series, and I think will in all my writing. I have my own experiences with ghosts, which I share on my blog, and I love reading and writing about paranormal encounters of all kinds.

Anyway, that’s enough about me! I’d love to hear from you and your readers. J

About the Books
Book One: Path Unchosen

When eighteen-year-old Judy Hudson discovers she’s a necromancer and sees firsthand the pain her powers can cause the dead, she wants to deny who she is. The zombie plague is long over. She wants to find a more normal life, a challenge when a beautiful, otherworldly man who claims to be her guardian saves her life.

But as Judy tries to set right the harm she inflicted on the spirit she raised, new zombies attack--zombies raised from among the long-time dead. Someone else just like her is out there, and he's not trying to set anything right.

Now, to save her own life and protect the innocent inhabitants of the nearby town who’ve become her friends, Judy must figure out who’s raising the dead and why. She must also learn to control the darkness inside her--a seductive darkness that promises her power beyond her wildest dreams.


Book Two: Truth Unveiled

Meagan Greystone, a new necromancer who grew up orphaned and homeless, has finally discovered a community where she belongs. But as she settles in at Ravenswood Manor, her ancestral home, a strange voice in her head unravels her newfound peace.

The source of the unsettling communication is Quintus, Meagan’s distant ancestor, known for his brutality and incredible power. When she attempts to enlist her father’s help by raising him from the dead, it’s Quintus who regains a foothold in the land of the living. Now reborn, he vows to obliterate everything Meagan treasures unless she joins him in his quest for power.

Meagan must overcome the heartbreak of unimaginable betrayal and fight in the face of a seemingly hopeless situation. Will she find the strength she needs to defeat the power of darkness and save the people and home she has grown to cherish?

Buy the Books:
Path Unchosen on Amazon
Truth Unveiled on Amazon

Author Bio
Kim Cleary is the award-winning author of Path Unchosen, the first title in the Daughter of Ravenswood series, which earned a bronze IPPY award in 2015. She grew up in Birmingham, United Kingdom, studied medieval history and psychology at Adelaide University in Southern Australia, and has worked all over Australia and in London.

Forced to leave a successful career in marketing after multiple sclerosis damaged her hands and prevented her from typing, Cleary learned how to write using voice software.
A self-described chocoholic, Cleary loves writing, gardening, cooking, playing with her dogs, and spending time with friends. She lives with her husband and two dogs, an adorable cocker spaniel and a mischievous moodle, in Melbourne, Australia.

Links
Blog: Kimcleary.com

*~*~*
Marsha A. Moore is a writer of fantasy romance. The magic of art and nature spark life into her writing. Read her COON HOLLOW TALES of paranormal romance and her ENCHANTED BOOKSTORE LEGENDS for adventurous epic fantasy romance. For a FREE ebook download, read her historic fantasy, LE CIRQUE DE MAGIE, available at Amazon and Smashwords.