Friday, April 20, 2018

Kitty 'de Chatou ~ presents ~ Crazy Cat Lady


TITLE: Crazy Cat Lady
RELEASE DATE: February 23, 2018
AUTHOR: Kitty 'de Chatfou
PAGE COUNT: 72
ISBN: 978-1984927071
IMPRINT: Dark Serpent
CATEGORIES: Horror/Occult
BOOK PAGE: http://ravenswoodpublishing.com/bookpages/crazycatlady.html


KEYWORDS: horror, cats, crazy, old ladies, witch, magick, magic, occult, Seth, demon cats, demons, old house, country, backwoods horror, Sampson County, North Carolina, Godwin NC, stillborn, wisewoman, witch hunt

ONE LINER:
A horrifying look into what happens when nature is misunderstood and an old crone that harmed no one is now out for revenge.
SYNOPSIS:
In 1962 they thought she was dead, all they had to do was burn the old house down with her and those damnable cats in it and everything would be normal again. No more odd antics from the Crazy Cat Lady no more death. But what they didn't realize is there was much more to her relationship with her beloved cats than met the eye. Love, trust, and the bonds of a mother to her children all played a part to the insanity the town people thought raged within the crone's mind.

It's now 2018 and the stories have not ceased. Instead it seems the legend of the 'Crazy Cat Lady' have grown more horrifying than ever before prompting the local children to take a visit. Most have only come within a few feet of the old half burned house. They would stand, staring at the place, watching the creepy cats mill about the area, climbing along porch railings meowing plaintively. But three high school boys decide to take it a bit further one night which begins a horrifying look into what happens when nature is misunderstood and an old crone that harmed no one is now out for revenge.

AUTHOR BIO:
Kitty Honeycutt is the single mother of an amazing daughter whom she currently home school’s. She is a publisher for over 100 authors, a writer, an entrepreneur, a singer and an animal and human rights activist.

Her household is comprised of various creatures that include, but are not limited to:

Two Chihuahua’s (Lobo) & (Tinkerbell) Thirteen cats (Merlin), (Pandra), (Salem), (Mythian), (Sabrina), (Austin), (Mestofelees), (Sage), (Zoey, aka Jadis), (Willow Pixie), (Totoro aka Tiny), (Clementine) & (Sandy) Five fish, (Pumpkin), (Thing 2), & (Orca the Oscar Fish) One Ball Python, (Dragon), Four Bearded Dragons, (Rexie), (Chubby aka Kingsley), (Samantha) & (Georgia) One Crested Gecko, (Copper) Two Uromastyx, (Mary) & (Elizabeth) Two Aquatic Turtles, (Purple) & (Myrtle) and eleven babies that have yet to be named. One Desert Tortoise, (Bubble).

*As you can see she is also a part-time zoo-keeper.*

She sometimes writes under the pseudonym Kitty 'de Chatfou and her book “Pray For Hell” is due out later this year 2018, and will be her second published work.

AUTHOR LINKS AND BUY LINKS:
EMAIL: author.kitty.honeycutt@gmail.com
AUTHOR LINKS: https://www.facebook.com/authorkdhoneycutt/
AMAZON US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079ZJPPTR
AMAZON UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079ZJPPTR
AMAZON CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B079ZJPPTR
PAPERBACK: https://www.amazon.com/Crazy-Lady-Sampson-County-Supernatural/dp/1984927078/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1519482153&sr=8-2&keywords=Kitty+du%27+Chatfou





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Thursday, April 19, 2018

Loc Glin ~ presents ~ Dulce Isle (A Mystic Museum Novella)

If you're younger than 18 please explore elsewhere.
Warning:
Adult language and mature content.

Dulce Isle (MMF)
The Mystic Museum 2
Categories: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Menage a Trois/Quatre
Word Count: 22,360
Heat Level: SEXTREME
Published By: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.
[Ménage Amour: Erotic Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, paranormal elements, HEA]

BLURB:
Adrian Asorio can't seem to move on after the death of his beloved wife Angelina. While trying to fill the lonely hours in his empty life, he discovers Minerva's Mystic Museum. A painting of a female artist painting a nude male model fascinates him. He finds himself thinking about, and wanting, the male model. He begins to question his sexuality.
Adrian is chosen as this full moon's mystic walker. He is transported to Dulce Isle where he meets Jon and Rosa in the flesh. Adrian must confront his newly discovered sexual orientation and overcome the guilt he feels.
Rosa DeVario and Jon Balentine shared a life with Rosa’s husband, Leon. When Leon died, both were heartbroken. Without Leon as their common denominator, Jon has reverted to his "loving men only" lifestyle, leaving Rosa without a partner.
Will Adrian's arrival on Dulce Isle be the answer that mends three tattered and broken lives? The universe has provided the opportunity…Adrian's heart holds the key.




ADULT EXCERPT:
Rosa paced the length of her bedroom. Nervous, pent-up sexual desire had her wide awake. Her negligee didn’t help her condition either. Silky as it was, it caressed her nipples, making them bud.

She looked at the small grandfather clock on the fireplace mantle. The pendulum swung to a precise rhythm. Eleven o’clock it chimed. Eleven wasn’t that late. She would pay Adrian a late-night visit. She rarely had sex with a man the first time she met him. Adrian was special. She was going to follow her instincts about this man.

Rosa flowed down the hall past Jon’s door. Jon’s room was close to the master suite as a matter of convenience. She had Adrian housed here in the hopes that he’d be interested in a tryst either with her or with Jon, hopefully with both of them. Her husband had opened her eyes to what loving two men was about. Loving two men who loved to love each other, was even better yet. She looked wistfully but didn’t pause as she passed Jon’s door. First things first.

She tapped lightly on Adrian’s door. If he was sleeping, she didn’t want to disturb him. A moment later, Adrian’s bare chest filled the space of the door he’d just opened. Jon had lent him pajama bottoms, she noticed.

His face registered surprise at seeing her. His eyes were filled with a man’s appreciation and desire. She chanced a glance at his crotch. His cock shouted where his proclivity pointed. He did still like women.

“Rosa,” he said. His voice seemed overly deep.

“Am I disturbing you, Adrian?” she asked.

“No, I was just getting ready to go to bed.”

She smiled. “That sounds tempting.” He remained in the doorway. “May I come in?” she asked.

“I…I…” he stammered.

“Adrian, don’t be embarrassed. I am a pretty direct kind of person.” She looked at him, trying to gauge his feelings. In for a penny, in for a pound. “In the light of our earlier conversation, I thought you might be interested in some company. Our banter has me wound up pretty tight. I could use some release. I was hoping you would oblige me.” She gave him a sultry smile. The smile she knew drove a man wild. “Can you help me out, Adrian?” She sighed and ran her hand down his chest through its light smattering of hair, down to his pajama pants where she expertly dipped inside the elastic waistband to capture his engorged rod. “I see that you can,” she said with a purr.

His breath hitched.

He looked surprised. He looked hungry. He looked confused. “What is it, Adrian?” she asked, stroking his implement.

“I haven’t had a woman since my wife died.”

“I can’t say the same for me about my husband. I’ll be more than happy to reintroduce you to sex.”

“I…I…”

“Adrian, trust me. It won’t hurt.” She giggled. “Unless you want it to.” She pinched his nipples with her free hand.

“You aren’t afraid I’ll hurt you? After two years, I may not be able to control my desire. I could go a little crazy. Angelina didn’t like it when I lost control.”

“I like a good wild fuck every now and again. I’m feeling like that might be in order tonight. My cunt is already hot and ready. Just as ready as you are.” She stroked the length of his shaft.

She moved away from him and stood near the bed. She removed her robe and dropped it to the floor. “Do you want to see my body, Adrian?”

He nodded dumbly, his eyes burning with barely contained desire.

She slipped out of the straps and let her negligee slide below her breasts.

His gaze devoured her. Oh, how she loved the feeling a man’s desire gave her. Her pussy began to drip. She cupped her breasts in her hands, and the negligee slid over her shapely hips as it floated to the floor.

He licked his lips. His hunger was evident.

“Your bottoms, Adrian, I’d like some company in this state of undress.” He stepped out of his bottoms immediately. He was looking at her with the same intent that a cat displayed just before it was ready to pounce on a mouse.

“That’s better. Do you want to fuck me, Adrian?” She strutted in front of the bed.

Speechless, he nodded. His hands seemed to twitch.

“Tell me, Adrian. Tell me you want to fuck me. You’ll tell me what you want, and I will tell you what I want. Do we have a deal?”

He nodded.

“Tell me, Adrian.”

“We have a deal,” he said in a horse whisper.

“What do you want, Adrian?”

“I want to fuck you,” he rasped as if it was pulled from him with great difficulty.

She moved as she spoke, a sensuous nymph, acting out her words. “What would you do if I were to lie on the bed and spread my legs wide for you like this?”

His hand had gone to his crotch as if he were in pain.

“Tell me, Adrian. Show me, Adrian.” She fingered her pussy. Her legs spread wide, inviting him.

He swallowed hard. “I want…” He closed his eyes as if in pain.

“Adrian, Angelina would want you to enjoy your life. She would want you to continue to live without her. She is probably very upset with you because you haven’t moved on.”

“I do need to move on…for her and for me.” He sounded sad.

“Adrian, look at me.” She waited until her eyes were locked with his. “I am here, flesh and blood. My body aches for you. Show me that you are alive. Honor her memory by being alive. Let us rejoice in life together. Fuck me and let’s live again.” She stretched her arms out to him. “Mount me, Adrian, and fuck me like the stallion I know you are.”

“My wife never talked like you do.”

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”


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Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Christy Nicholas ~ presents ~ Misfortune of Song


Out Now—Misfortune of Song by Christy Nicholas, Book #5 in The Druid’s Brooch Series (@greendragon9) #histfic #fantasy #ireland #irish #druid #newrelease #fairy #historicalfantasy #historicalfiction #teamtirgearr
Historical fantasy set in 12th century Ireland

BLURB:
~ Even a soldier cannot fight love ~

In 12th century Ireland, all Maelan wants is to do his duty to his Chief and maintain his family’s good name. However, his granddaughter Orlagh, is hell bent on wreaking havoc, with no care for the consequences

When Orlagh falls in love with an itinerant bard, Maelan must rule with an iron fist to keep her from running away. However, her rebellion against his strictures results in disaster and he almost loses her in the same way he lost his beloved wife.

Maelan must make some difficult decisions and bargains with the Fae to save his granddaughter’s life and future. Can he save her happiness as well?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Come explore the world of pre-Norman Ireland in this historical fantasy adventure. A combination of adventure, romance, fantasy and historical fiction, Misfortune of Song is book five in The Druid’s Brooch Series. While each book works fine as a stand-alone novel, the series will have, ultimately, three trilogies for a total of nine books.

Some of the challenges I found in researching this book was finding places and details of society in 1155 Ireland. Since the Normans invaded shortly thereafter, many details were obliterated or eclipsed by the new culture. In addition, Viking settlers (called Foreigners, Galls, or Ostmen at the time) had started getting a foothold on coastal towns such as Limerick, Wexford and Waterford.

The Gaelic way of life was beginning to disappear.

Chieftains already straddled a dichotomy in belief between the old, Gaelic pagan ways and the new Christian ways. Traditions such as ancient guest-right, concubinage, and Brehon Law warred with church law and Christian ideals dictated by Rome rather than Celtic Christianity.

Upon this backdrop we meet Orlagh – a young woman full of romantic dreams and little sense. Her best friend, Eolande, could be either help or hindrance to her dreams, depending on her ever-changing mood. Her grandfather, Maelan, was full of duty and honor, and had no idea how to handle his headstrong granddaughter.

Buy links:
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2GXC1vm
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2FJTYy3
iBooks: http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/isbn9781370150205
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/search?Query=9781370150205
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/792664?ref=cw1985

Excerpt:
When he closed the door, Orlagh growled. “Eolande, where’s my grandfather?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, do I? It’s not my day to spy on him. If I were to guess, this time of day, he’d be attending to the chief during court. Today’s petitioners’ day.”

“Petitioners’ day? Excellent. That’s simply perfect. Help me get dressed.”

Eolande backed away, and Tawnith squawked. “Dressed? Absolutely not! You’re to rest.”

Orlagh smiled sweetly at her friend and spoke in a measured tone. “If you don’t help me dress, I shall dress myself, which will tire me out more. I am going whether you help or not. You get to decide how much of my limited strength I use in the mundane tasks.”

Duty and guilt warred on her friend’s face, and finally, guilt won out. With a sigh, Eolande rushed out, presumably to Orlagh’s roundhouse to get some presentable clothing.

It was only a few minutes later when she returned with a simple léine, and they made short work of getting Orlagh presentable. She tied her hair up in a knot rather than arrange it into anything elaborate. It was still damp from washing in the basin this morning, but it would do for now.

Leaning on Eolande, Orlagh slowly made her way to the feast hall. Several farmers and tradesmen milled about outside, awaiting their turn at petition.

Petitioners’ day was when anyone in the túath could come to the chief with a concern, a problem, or a dispute. Orlagh had occasionally had duty helping in the main hall when the different people came for the chief’s justice. Often these were mind-numbing local arguments or issues. Occasionally one grew interesting or dramatic, but very seldom.

Today, she was determined to make the day interesting.

Eolande and Orlagh slipped into the door, shouldering through several layers of onlookers to get to the open space in the center. Chief Diarmait sat on his elaborately carved wooden chair. His head rested on one hand, his elbow propped on the chair arm. His multi-colored brat was around his shoulders, a symbol of his official power.

Her grandfather stood on one side as warchief, and the aging Mícheál on the other as an expert on the law. A scruffy older man complained about the third cow he’d lost in the last moon.

“They just disappear, my chief! The neighbor’s aren’t stealin’ ‘em. I’d see if they had more cows. In fact, Ruari over there lost one himself. I’m tellin’ you, it’s the Fair Folk, no doubt!”

Chief Diarmait raised his head and arched one eyebrow at Maelan. Her grandfather fully decked out in his armor, stepped up. His spine was stiff and his gaze forward.

“My men and I have investigated several such complaints, my chief. We have found no trace of missing kine, either cow or sheep or goat. Not even scraps from a hide. If it’s a predator, they are devouring the creatures whole.”

At a nod, he stepped back into his place, gaze still forward.

Orlagh considered her grandfather’s mood. He hadn’t liked the report he’d just given, that much was clear from his stance and voice. He was ashamed he hadn’t found a reasonable explanation for the missing kine. Good. It meant he was off-balance. This would make her task much easier.


AUTHOR BIO:
Celtic Fairies, Fables, and Folklore! Bestselling author (top #100 Amazon Canada, #1 in Paranormal Fantasy, Amazon Canada)

Christy Nicholas, also known as Green Dragon, is an author, artist and accountant. After she failed to become an airline pilot, she quit her ceaseless pursuit of careers that begin with 'A', and decided to concentrate on her writing. Since she has Project Completion Disorder, she is one of the few authors with NO unfinished novels.

Christy has her hands in many crafts, including digital art, beaded jewelry, writing, and photography. In real life, she's a CPA, but having grown up with art all around her (her mother, grandmother and great-grandmother are/were all artists), it sort of infected her, as it were.

She wants to expose the incredible beauty in this world, hidden beneath the everyday grime of familiarity and habit, and share it with others. She uses characters out of time and places infused with magic and myth.

Author Links:
Publisher link: http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Nicholas_Christy/index.htm
Website: http://www.greendragonartist.com
Blog: http://www.greendragonartist.net
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/greendragonauthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/greendragon9


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Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Loc Glin ~ presents ~ Howling at the Moon (A Mystic Museum Novella)


Ménage Amour:
Erotic Paranormal Ménage a Quatre Romance
M/F/M/M, shape-shifters, light spanking, HEA


Every full moon the “powers that be” choose someone from the visitors of the museum. This someone, known as the mystic walker, will be the hero/heroine of the novel. The “powers” select someone they feel deserves a second chance, or just a chance to follow their destiny. Minerva, the curator and caretaker of the museum meets the chosen mystic walker. Through the magic that has been entrusted to her, Minerva supplies them with the opportunity to change their lives. Each book in the series is vastly different from the others. 
What does a museum in NYC have to do with three shape shifting wolves in California? Jacob, Milo and Sven are about to find out.

BLURB:

Carolyn, lonely and heartbroken after being dumped by yet another boyfriend who told her she needs to loosen up in bed, escapes her empty apartment. On the night of a full moon she visits Minerva’s Mystic Museum.

Minerva recognizes her pain and provides her with the opportunity to change her life. The full moon has chosen Carolyn as a mystic walker.

Carolyn’s dormant sexuality is awakened by three handsome shape-shifters. Jacob, caring and nurturing, lures her into his world. Milo, impetuous and rough, awakens unknown desire. Sven, cold and reserved, tests her mettle. Will she choose to walk on the wild side with the wolf pack and become their female? Will she be able to convince Sven that she is worthy and should be given the opportunity to join the pack? Will Sven’s fear of losing another mate destroy the future of the pack? Or will Carolyn choose to return to the normal life she’d come to see as her due?

EXCERPT:
Carolyn walked up the steps to the museum. People brushed by her. Some bumped her shoulder. She’d left her apartment to avoid being alone. She’d walked without a destination, walking just to walk. Her mind still reeled after being dumped by yet another boyfriend. A month had passed, and Randy’s cruel words still rang in her head. “Loosen up, Carolyn. Christ, do you even like sex? Making love to you is frustrating. It’s emasculating. How can I feel like a man if I can’t make you feel like a woman?” He’d left her that night. He’d gathered his things and walked out of her life.

Randy wasn’t the first man that had called her frigid. She was afraid he wouldn’t be the last. She liked sex well enough. A man wouldn’t respect her if she acted on the primal urges she sometimes felt. A normal woman didn’t feel the hunger she experienced. It took all her control to keep it at bay, so she appeared cold and lifeless.

She was a nurse in the ER room. She’d seen too much of what uncontrolled urges and emotions could do. Gunshot wounds, stab wounds, concussions from a bashed-in scull. Uncontrolled urges caused trouble.

She pulled the imitation fur collar of her coat tighter around her throat. She raised her chin and tilted her neck so she could look at the sign above the door. Minerva’s Mystic Museum, it proclaimed. I’ve never noticed this was a museum. It’s as good a place as any.

The room she entered was quite large, but the subtle lighting made it feel much smaller and intimate. Pictures hung on some of the walls. Beautiful murals were painted on others. Seating was provided here and there for the patron’s viewing ease. A musky yet relaxing aroma permeated the air, strong but not overpowering. Soft music and sometimes chimes filled the space with a comfortable, warm vibration.

Her body began to release tension she hadn’t known she held. She felt very tired. She sat on a bench in front of a mural. The weight of her troubles filled her heart.

She was alone in this world. Work had become all she had. She worked so many hours she was always exhausted. The ER life was taking its toll on her. She was ready for a change. She needed something a little less stressful. In a moment of desperation she’d made a decision to change her life. She’d given her notice at work. Today had been her last day.

She’d just focused on the mural in front of her when a woman stepped into her line of vision. The woman was tall with long black hair. Carolyn glanced up at the woman.

“I am Minerva, curator of this museum.” Her slim hands were clasped in front of her. “May I sit down?” she asked motioning to the bench.

Carolyn moved over. “Yes, please do.”

Minerva gracefully lowered herself onto the seat beside her. Carolyn’s attention returned to the mural.

“It’s called Howling at the Moon. It’s one of my favorites,” Minerva said.

“He seems so lonely,” Carolyn said. Her gaze fixed on the mural.

“Yes, he does.” Minerva looked at Carolyn intently.

“I know how he feels,” Carolyn sighed. She fought back the tears that threatened to unleash themselves.

“I believe you do.” Minerva put her hand on Carolyn’s shoulder.

Carolyn looked into Minerva’s eyes. Those dark orbs searched her soul. She couldn’t look away. It was as if Minerva was looking for something buried deep inside of her. After what seemed an eternity, Minerva smiled and stood.

“You have the power to change your loneliness.” Minerva placed her hand on Carolyn’s heart. “Trust what you feel in here. Your love, in all its manifestations, is a good thing. Safe journey. May the goddess grant your hearts true desire.”

Minerva moved away and she returned her attention to the mural before her. The scene it depicted tore at her heart.

The full moon hung in a cloudless starry night sky. The moonlight bathed the landscape in a silvery glow. The artist must have been sitting on a rise or a hill on this side of the valley depicted in the work of art before her. A wolf sat howling at the moon from its place on the mountain ledge. Trees blanketed the mountain. The mountain rolled down and changed into the low hills of the valley where the trees thinned. The valley changed into a meadow covering the lower portion of the mural.

The artist created the impression of the distance between the mountain tree line and the meadow. She watched the wolf turn its head. She felt as if it was looking at her. She held her breath, mesmerized by the sight. Her heart began to pound. Blood rushed through her body. She could feel each pulse of her heart. She felt a connection with that wild beast beyond anything she’d ever experienced. The wolf turned and disappeared from the scene in front of her. She released her breath. Her heart cried out, mourning his loss. She slowly searched the landscape. Her nostrils flared, she could almost smell the night air, could almost smell him. Where had the wolf gone? Was he as lonely as the mural depicted him to be? A moment later the wolf appeared at the tree line in the valley.

She watched the beautiful beast leave the dark safety of the Evergreen trees. Its body grew larger with each step. It was huge, and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Fifty yards from her, near the murals edge, she watched it morph from a wolf into a man. The man stood there as naked as the day he was born. His muscled body bathed in moonlight. His golden eyes bore into her soul. He stretched out his arm and opened his hand. “Come,” he said.

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Monday, April 16, 2018

Quentin Smith ~ guest post and his novel ~ Huber's Tattoo


TITLE: Huber’s Tattoo
RELEASE DATE: August 2017
AUTHOR: Quentin Smith
CATEGORIES: Historical Mystery/Thriller
PAGE COUNT: 468
ISBN: 978-1974412211
IMPRINT: White Stag




KEYWORDS: Mystery, Thriller, Suspense, Historical,
Nazi, Dystopian, Germany

ONE LINER:
“It is from the midst of this putrid sewer that the greatest river of human industry springs up. Here it is that humanity achieves for itself both perfection and brutalization.”

SYNOPSIS:
Imagine if the secretive Nazi ambition to breed a super intelligent race in the 1930s had been realised...

Huber's Tattoo reveals the complicity of the German medical and scientific establishments in the mechanics of engineering the Super Race.

Set in London in 2011, several loosely connected murders are gradually traced back to the secretive and shocking Nazi eugenics program centred around Himmler’s Lebensborn birthing homes. As this bizarre pattern becomes more noticeable, the intellectually brilliant DCI Webber of Scotland Yard discovers, throughout the course of his investigation, that his own links to the Lebensborn program, and the murders themselves, are much closer than he could have ever imagined. A parallel narrative, starting in Germany in 1936, follows the Nazi medical doctors involved in this ingenious secret project to engineer Aryan super intelligence. The two narratives eventually converge to create a thrilling finish.

“It is from the midst of this putrid sewer that the greatest river of human industry springs up. Here it is that humanity achieves for itself both perfection and brutalization.”

Huber’s Tattoo is the extraordinary story of a relatively unknown aspect of Nazi history. Viewed through contemporary characters who follow the clues back to the 1930s, the story suggests the impact such fiendish tampering with medicine and human development could have inflicted on future generations. Inspired by authors such as C.J. Sansom and Patricia Cornwell, Quentin is fascinated by the concept of engineering human intelligence, as well as the evil and misguided ambitions of the Nazi Lebensborn and eugenics programmes of the 1930’s. Huber’s Tattoo will appeal to fans of crime and historical fiction.



GUEST POST:
It took years to nurture the fundamental idea behind this book into the substantial novel that it is today. Still regarded as my magnum opus, the concept of engineering human intelligence has long fascinated me, but it took some time for all the pieces to fall into place and for the relatively unknown Nazi Lebensborn programme to develop into the natural backdrop for this thriller. There is a great deal of historical fact woven into this novel and I am immensely proud of it. My readers must have felt the same way as they propelled the book to runner up in The Peoples Book Prize 2015.


AUTHOR BIO:
In addition to being an anaesthetist, Quentin Smith has a long-standing passion for writing. He has published articles and papers in The British Journal of Anaesthesia, Anaesthesia News, Anaesthesia and Critical Care, Hospital Medicine, Today’s Anaesthetist, Spark, and Insight.

Following a five-year term as editor of Today’s Anaesthetist, he undertook creative writing study through The Writing School, New College Durham, The London School of Journalism and then a coveted place on the Curtis Brown Creative fiction course in 2014.

He is the author of three previously published novels: The Secret Anatomy of Candles (Matador 2012); Huber’s Tattoo (Matador 2014); 16mm of Innocence (Matador 2015). Huber’s Tattoo was runner-up in The People’s Book Prize 2015 and 16mm of Innocence was a finalist in The People’s Book Prize 2016. His recent novels reveal his interest in European history and the Second World War in particular.





PURCHASE HERE:
AMAZON US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07597RKWC
AMAZON UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07597RKWC
AMAZON CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B07597RKWC
BARNES & NOBLE: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hubers-tattoo-quentin-smith/1118742232?ean=9781974412211
CREATESPACE: https://www.createspace.com/7448345
PAPERBACK: https://www.amazon.com/Hubers-Tattoo-Quentin-Smith/dp/1974412210/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1504026087&sr=8-1&keywords=Huber%27s+Tattoo


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Friday, April 13, 2018

Loc Glin ~ presents ~ The Curse of Winford Manor


A Siren BookStrand Mainstream Romance


Would you like to take a little trip back in time? Join Leslie Braddock on her journey. Will Leslie find love amidst the mystery and danger of Winford Manor? Will she survive the curse?

BLURB:
Leslie Braddock feels responsible for her husband’s death. She is having trouble reentering the dating scene. Leslie travels back in time, where she meets Sir James.

Sir James Winford is a three-time widower. He believes he is cursed, and is certain death to any woman he loves. He has vowed never to love again.

Emily, the ghost of Sir James's first wife, has unfinished business, and still lingers at the Manor. She wants to see her husband happy, and she wants to bring her murderer to justice.

Rose has loved Sir James since childhood. She must live with the unspeakable things she has done trying to make James see her as more than a child. She believes she is close to achieving that goal when Leslie shows up.

Leslie and Sir James share the experience of losing a loved one. Will Leslie be the woman to break the curse? Or will she be just another victim?

EXCERPT:
Leslie searched for the road that led to the Gypsy camp. What was I thinking? When Stephanie canceled I should have just stayed home. “There it is. It’s a wonder anyone can find it at all.” She turned onto the dirt road. It was getting difficult to see in the fading light. Her small car found every bump in the road. Finally, she thought as the camp came into view. The bonfire in the middle of the camp and the music gave the place a mysterious and exotic feel. Darkness had settled in for the night.

“Excuse me,” she said to a young boy running by. “Where can I find the fortune teller?”

The boy stopped and smiled, showing his missing front teeth. “She’s in the blue wagon with the stars and moons.” He pointed in its direction before he dashed away. She was glad he added the stars and moons, because there were three blue wagons, each wildly decorated. She parked the car and made her way to the wagon. The people around the campfire glanced up and then went back to their conversation. The music never stopped. She reached up and hesitated a moment. Maybe she should go home. She felt sort of strange. Oh well, she was here. She pushed her reservations aside and knocked on the door.

A middle-aged woman in Gypsy garb, complete with kerchief around the head, jewelry, and bangles, answered. “Come in,” she said as she opened the door.

Leslie stepped up and entered a scene straight from the movies. Heavy curtains, beads, and ornate upholstery adorned the room. Two chairs and a table were in the center of the room. A crystal ball and a deck of tarot cards were placed off to the side on the table. Both sat patiently waiting for the fortune teller. Incense burned. Its fragrance added to the ambiance of the setting.

“Have a seat,” the woman said. Her hand made a graceful but exaggerated gesture toward the chair. “I am called Madam Galina. You are here to have your fortune told. Yes?”

“Yes,” Leslie said as she settled into the chair.

Madam Galina made a great show of rustling her skirt and clinking her bangles as she passed Leslie. She settled gracefully into her chair. She settled her skirt just so about her. “Let us get started. Give me your hands,” she ordered. Her thick accent added to the mysterious allure of the moment.

Leslie put her hands onto the table. Madam Galina took first one and then the other. She examined each carefully. She rubbed her thumb across Leslie’s open palm as if she were trying to clear away a smudge as she examined them. She squinted and frowned. It was a few minutes before she spoke. “You have had a loss in your life, and it makes you unhappy.”

It doesn’t take much to guess that. “Yes.”

“One moment while I consult my crystal,” she said as she moved her hands in circles over the crystal ball, now in the center of the table. Madam Galina’s rings caught the light and sparkled. Her bangles slid on her arms, creating a rhythmless music all their own.

The music outside, Galina’s bangles clinking, it all felt so contrived. How could Stephanie believe any of this?

“My crystal ball is of no use. All I can see is fog, nothing beyond that.” Madam Galina wrinkled her brow. “Quite unusual and disturbing I must say.”

I bet.

“Maybe the cards can clear up the mystery. May I do a tarot card reading?” Madam Galina asked.

“Sure.”

“Please shuffle the deck.” Frowning once again, she handed the cards to Leslie. Leslie shuffled the deck. “I’ve never seen fog in my crystal before. What could it mean?” she mumbled as Leslie handed the cards back to her. She then used a Tree of Life spread to read Leslie’s fortune.

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