Thursday, April 30, 2020

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ The Sindicate ~ J.S. Frankel


Achieving the impossible is only a thought away.

Nate Holliday and his girlfriend, Melanie Sarkosian, are back. This time, they’re fighting crime across the great state of Portland. While earthly law and order is Nate’s main focus—that, and graduating high school—he is soon contacted by a representative, Titanic Man, a member of a crime-fighting group from a parallel Earth.

It seems that trouble is brewing on Earth-Seventeen, a world similar to ours in terms of clothing and design, but with more advanced technology.

It seems that one member of the good guys has been captured by the opposition. Ukiko Monaghan, also known as Dividing Woman, has gone missing, and Nate and Melanie are the only ones capable of bringing her back.

It won’t be easy. Ukiko has fallen in with—or been taken captive by—Alvin ‘Big Boy’ Larpis, the most feared gangster who sends his minions to various Earths in search of materials to build the ultimate weapon.


However, when Alvin sends a hit squad to Nate’s and Melanie’s home world, things get darker, more personal, and Nate has to make a terrible choice of seeking vengeance or upholding the law.

Buy Now!

Excerpt ~

Portland High School. Friday, noon, September twentieth. Fries and salad for lunch. Standard carb intake.


Like life, my senior school year turned out to be different than how I’d imagined it would go.

At first glance, a person would think I was normal, your average, nondescript, middle-class high school senior. I had a caring mother, and a lovely girlfriend, Melanie Sarkosian. Not too much different than anyone else.

As for my classes, I’d studied hard, crammed on every subject, and my grades showed marked improvement. On the surface, things were looking up. University seemed to be a reality, after all. My teachers had given me my props, and the feedback boosted my ego.

Scratch the surface, though, dig a little deeper, and the reality didn’t quite fit the picture of your average high school scholar wannabe…

“Nate, what are you thinking about?”

That question came from Melanie—Mel—my nickname for her. Tall, green-eyed, and lovely, she and I made a somewhat improbable couple. In high school, looks ruled. The good-looking guys went for the prettiest girls and vice-versa. Those who weren’t gifted in the looks department were relegated to a second-tier.

No, that rule hadn’t been written in stone, but I saw it every single day of the week. No one could ever tell me different.

Truth be known, I got by with my average appearance. The mirror told me the story—five-nine, lean, with a mop of dark hair, gray eyes, and a nondescript, hatchet face.

That’s the way it was, and I’d come to terms with it a long time ago. Short of plastic surgery, which wasn’t an option, this was how I would look forever, and then my thoughts turned to lunch.

Mel was in the middle of tearing through a sandwich. Me, the fries I had were soggy, and the salad was tasteless, but I had to have something in my stomach, and…

“Nate?”

Her question brought me back to Earth. Daydreaming could really throw a person off-target. “Oh, uh, nothing special.”

Right, lie and hope she’ll believe it. A quick glance around the cafeteria told me the story. People were staring at us. No, not blatantly, but they were staring—and whispering.

Mel stopped eating and gazed around the room. I followed her head movement. Sure enough, those who’d been looking in our direction quickly went back to their meals and their lives.

They hadn’t been staring at Mel, pretty though she was.

They hadn’t been staring at the fall weather through the windows.

No, they’d been staring at my right hand.

It seemed that everyone had a backstory. Mine was that I’d been born without a right hand. Up until three months ago, I’d been forced to use a prosthetic, which only invited more gawking, gaping, and the aforementioned staring.

Then Ukiko Monaghan came along. She went by another name—Dividing Woman. A resident of a parallel Earth—that was a mind-bender in and of itself—she’d come here with her powers and tech, and Mel and I had helped her capture two extremely dangerous criminals.

Ukiko’s powers included exceptional strength as well as the ability to divide her body’s atoms and send copies of herself to other places nearby.

Looks-wise, call her a perfect chimera. The left half of her face was Caucasian, with a bright blue eye and short, spiky black hair.

In sharp contrast, the right side was Asian, along with a brown peeper and silky black tresses. When someone talked about being biracial—her father was Irish and her mother, Japanese—she was the perfect symbol of it.

Her appearance had freaked me out at first, but then it dawned on me that she was genuine. Due to her looks, she’d also suffered, and in a kind and wise manner, she’d helped me to realize that having a handicap was really no handicap at all, not if I let it get to me.

At any rate, in a showdown against the main criminal that she was trying to nab—his name was Astral, and he was a truly bad hombre—she’d given me something called Neural Metal.

Here came another mind-trip—Neural Metal could form itself into any shape or thing, flesh or metal that the wearer could imagine.

Initially, I’d formed a hand, a real, human hand, but quickly found another use for it. My first construct had been a plasma cannon—conceive and achieve—but for the past three months, there hadn’t been any burning need to form any weaponry, unless I went on patrol.

For the time being, I amused myself by forming a flower pot, a replica of the Enterprise, the old space shuttle, and a samurai sword.

Each construct was perfect, conceived by my mind’s eye and my imagination. The first and second-year kids thought it was cool—at least, most of them did. In contrast, the seniors looked upon me with suspicion.

In the past, they’d stared at my prosthetic hand, and the obligatory “Stumpy” or “Captain Hook” comments had come my way.

Now, though, the looks were ones of trepidation. Would I turn it against them? In a way, I couldn’t blame how they thought, and truth be known, I was tempted at times. Payback. Revenge for past slights. Kick their butts.

However, Mel kept me grounded, and I willed my hand to the form of a catcher’s mitt, and then back to normal.

Mel grinned at the sights. “You’re really having fun with that, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah. You don’t like it?”

A thoughtful expression replaced her grin. “I’m still getting used to it, to be honest. Not that I’m not happy for you,” she added hastily. “But—”

“But what?”


She bit her lip. “It’s just that, when we were kids, I got used to you having no hand or wearing your prosthetic. Now, you’ve got some kind of alien tech I can’t understand, and…”




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Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Teaser Tuesday - Finders (Ghost Hunting Book One)

Blurb
When an expert Demonologist meets a Reality Show Producer on the Ghost Hunting Show Finders, sparks of true love fly so brightly even the Devil takes notice.
Demonologist Luke Melloy has seen the face of pure evil. He's fought it and sent it back to hell. It's what he does. To Claire Westin, ghosts and demons are just great television and good for ratings. When she’s faced with the truth Luke has seen, her reality is turned upside down as the two are swept into dire straits moments after they meet. Desire sparks between the unlikely pair, throwing their hearts into chaos with a love neither of them expected nor wanted.
When the Demon targets an unsuspecting Claire with his wrath, Luke finds his focus split between his oath to God and the awakening of his heart. Together, can they face the ancient evil and defeat it, or will they lose everything?

Excerpt

On every investigation, big or small, Grant Henley’s priority was always the safety of his team. Splitting the central team into mini-teams posed the best option. If anything happened on any of the walks, an experienced team member would be present to handle the situation. While he hand-picked and trusted every member of his team, he also knew in the face of pure evil or peril, people could freeze, loose reason, and panic. It was only human nature. He needed to anticipate all the possibilities.

He would not admit aloud to the team, but the investigation of Crestwater Church would most likely be one of the most intense and riskiest endeavors many of them would ever experience.

“What have we got?” Grant asked, entering the open door on the opposite side of the altar from where he’d just been with Luke.

“Dust, and lots of it,” Craig replied, standing triumphant and placing the bolt cutters against the wall. Finders’ investigators Brian, Glen, and Maggie were standing with him, having assisted in the excavation.

“Let’s take a look,” Grant said, turning on his flashlight again and leading the way into the area. He’d expected a wooden floor but found it to be solid rock. Good news meant they wouldn’t have to worry about falling through any holes in an old weakening wooden floor.

They ventured inside, and the dust began to settle, revealing the scant contents of the room. Walking around, they found a few small single beds, broken empty dressers, and a cracked mirror on the far wall. Grant took a few steps toward the far wall and stopped. He raised his hand in a hold position, signaling for everyone to stop. Listening, he waited and heard it again, louder this time, definitely a growl. He swung the flashlight toward the sound and stopped, illuminating a snarling, growling dog. The light flashed red in its eyes. Grant stepped back. “Out, get out. Slowly and quietly leave the room,” he said in a low tone to the rest of the group.

In his peripheral vision, he watched the group of three slowly back out of the room. Keeping eye contact with the still angry animal, he began with a first step back, simultaneously searching for anything he could put between himself and the animal.

The bed to his left was close enough he would be able to skirt it between them, giving him a few seconds to exit the space. Two more steps and he could reach the bed. He felt someone enter the room and saw Luke’s outline slowly approaching him.

“The bed,” Luke said, knowing his plan.

“Yes.”

“Move fast.”

“Not a problem,” Grant replied.

The dog inched forward, getting ready to strike.

“On three,” Luke said, and Grant silently nodded. He mapped out in his mind how this was going to work. “Ready?”

"Yeah, okay…one…"

"Two."

"Three."

Grant lunged for the bed, flipping it on its side and dashed. Without warning, something grabbed his ankle. He fell to his knees, giving the dog a chance to strike.

* * * *

Luke watched the bed flip on its side, creating a temporary barrier. Luke, bolt cutters in hand, watched and waited. Grant fell to his knees. The dog caught Grant’s ankle before Luke could bridge the gap. The dog’s jaws were locked. Grant struggled to get out of the dog’s grip. Luke stepped between the two and swung the cutter at the dog’s head to get the hound to release. Luke hit the dog harder and harder, with no effect and no damage to the animal.

Luke stopped, holding his cross. "In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I stand with the power of the Lord God Almighty to bind Satan and all his evil spirits, demonic forces, satanic powers, principalities, along with all kings and princes of terrors, from the air, water, fire, ground, netherworld, and the evil forces of nature.”

The dog continued to bite down, and Grant bellowed in pain. “Fuck!”

“I take authority over all demonic assignments and functions of destruction sent against me, and I expose all demonic forces as weakened, defeated enemies of Jesus Christ. I stand with the power of the Lord God Almighty to bind together all enemies of Christ present here, all demonic entities under their one and highest authority, and I command these spirits into the abyss to never again return.”

The dog whined in pain, released Grant’s leg, and scurried behind the bed. Luke
grasped Grant’s hand, pulling him to his feet and out the door. They slammed the door shut in unison. Something heavy and strong banged against it, pushing to get out. “What do we do?” Craig asked.

“Find something to wedge against the door,” Luke called. Glen and Brian helped to hold the door closed. The pounding continued. “Get the salt!”

Craig disappeared with Maggie out the door. Luke started a prayer to bless the door. The pushing and banging stopped just as Maggie and Craig reappeared. “Is it over?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Grant said, motioning to Craig for the piece of wood he’d brought to wedge the door closed. Grant took the piece and positioned the wood against the door to keep it closed. “Go get the nail gun out of the truck.”
“You got it, Boss,” Craig said with a nod.

“You have the salt?” Luke asked Maggie. She nodded, face pale. Giving the clear glass jar to him with shaking hands, he gave her a reassuring nod. “We’ve got this. Go take a break.”

Luke opened the salt and poured it against the threshold.
“Not very Christian of you,” Brian commented.

“Actually, for centuries since the advent of Jesus, salt that had been cleansed and sanctified by special exorcisms and prayers was given to catechumens before entering the church for baptism. According to the fifth canon of the Third Council of Carthage in the third century, salt was administered to the catechumens several times a year, a process attested by Augustine of Hippo.”
 Craig returned with the nail gun and handed it to Grant, who started nailing the door.

Luke continued,

“Two specific rites, namely a cross traced on the forehead and a taste of blessed salt, not only marked the entrance into the catechumenate but were repeated regularly. By his own account, Augustine was "blessed regularly with the Sign of the Cross and seasoned with God's salt. Therefore, it is very Christian of me.”

Grant finished securing his side of the door and handed Luke the nail gun. “Early in the sixth century, John the Deacon also explained the use of blessed salt. he said So the mind which is drenched and weakened by the waves of this world is held steady.”

“That is blessed salt?”

“Yep, take it wherever I go,” Luke replied.

“Consider me schooled,” Brian said.

“What happened in there?” Glen asked.

“Stray dog,” Craig quickly said from behind Glen. “It happens in these abandoned buildings. A dog or raccoon gets trapped inside and is relatively pissed off when someone finds it. Greg could use your help in the vestibule. We’ll finish up here.” Glen and Brian nodded and exited the room. “All secure?”
“Yep, let’s get you outside to wrap up that ankle,” Luke said, offering Grant his shoulder.

“Claire’s gonna be pissed,” Grant said.


* * * *


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Saturday, April 25, 2020

Saturday Seven ~ April, 25th ~ Romine's Roundup!

Photo Credit : https://order-order.com/2017/11/25/saturday-seven-up-404/



Happy Saturday, what have you been up to this week? Here is a rundown of highlights for the week. I hope you find them useful in your life! My goal as a person and a writer are to always Pay-It-Forward, so please let me know how I can help you. YES, YOU!


Enjoy your weekend & this post! Amazing things to come!

~Amy
 
What am I Reading? -  Life Sentence, Life Purpose by Mickey Owens & Kim Whiting - An amazing story that will change the way you view prisons and the people who live in them --as well as the very meaning and purpose of life," says Tom Lagana, coauthor of Chicken Soup for the Prisoner's Soul. Mickey Owens, through his life story, takes us on a journey into the bowels of prison and the minds and souls of inmates. He shows us that love, peace and purpose can be found anywhere, even in the hard and shadowed landscape of prison.

What am I Listening to? – A Brief History of the Philosophy of Time by Adrian Bardon ~ A Brief History of the Philosophy of Time covers subjects such as time and change, the experience of time, physical and metaphysical approaches to the nature of time, the direction of time, time travel, time and freedom of the will, and scientific and philosophical approaches to eternity and the beginning of time. Bardon employs helpful illustrations and keeps technical language to a minimum in bringing the resources of over 2500 years of philosophy and science to bear on some of humanity's most fundamental and enduring questions.
What Quote am I Pondering? – Self imposed limits are the most challenging to overcome, for it requires we define our own self-image ~ Me

What am I Researching? – Homemade Cleaning supplies – seems the three things to have for practically any cleaning job is baking powder, Vinegar, and Dawn 😊

Yummy Meal of the Week – Slow Cooker Chicken Tortilla Soup ~ LOVE this, make it as spicy or bland as you like.

What did I Learn? – 

I didn’t learn but more of a discovery. This happens to me often where I identify things I would like to learn how to do. I have a list. Some examples are learning to Knit, Paint, design (aka use Photoshop), and play the flute. Do you have a list of things you want to learn how to do? Please do share!
What am I Watching? – The West Wing on Netflix – I loved this show when it was on network television and I still love it. It stands up to the test of time. Stimulates my writing brain.
 
That is all for this week, my lovelies!
I hope you have an amazing week, and I will talk to you all next Saturday!



*BONUS Content ~ 

Have any thoughts on my week’s activity or want to make a recommendation? Drop me a line or a tweet. One lucky commenter will win a free Romine book of their choice! Never want to miss a blog post or a Saturday Seven? Join my mailing list, and I will be happy to send it straight to your inbox!




Last week's COMMENTOR winner is BEV TAYLOR!! Thank you for getting in touch. Congratulations! You'll be receiving an email from me shortly!
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Thursday, April 23, 2020

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ Sage and Spirited ~ Viola Grace

Doing a family favour before a wedding is nerve-wracking at the best of times, clearing out the haunted venue is a nightmare.

Hecate’s social life is looking up. Her sister is getting married, the new brother-in-law-to-be is a really good guy, and his family is helping Hecate fill in the gaps of her knowledge of what the hell she is.

Her grandfather’s ghost is convinced that she needs to become a ghost hunter in her family tradition. She has attempted to tell him that her way is more appropriate, but it is hard to get a new idea into the minds of the deceased.

When her grandfather’s assistant arrives, Hecate is in for a shock. Not only is he pale as marble, but he is also as solid as the stone as well.


She doesn’t have time to deal with the new arrival. Her sister’s wedding venue has had a disaster strike, and the search is on for a new one. Hecate goes with them when they locate a prospective replacement. There is only one problem. It is the most haunted building in the province. It’s a good thing that Hecate has cleared her calendar for the week before the event. She has some work to do.

Buy Now!

Excerpt ~

“You are not serious enough about this, Hecate.”

She looked at him through narrowed eyes and yawned. “About what, Grandfather?”

“About your role as a ghost hunter.”

“I am not a hunter. I am an expediter, extractor, or remover. I don’t hunt them; I go when I am called.”

He muttered, “You should take an interest in breaking the family curse.”

She groaned and sat up, swinging her legs out from under her blankets. “Right now, I have an interest in a carafe of coffee and some hot breakfast. Is it even dawn yet?”

He blustered and got out of her way as she walked through her house and into her kitchen. Making coffee on automatic was something she had been doing for years.

She put pastries into the toaster, verified the setting, and pushed the lever down.

“You do not have a good diet. You consume too many calories.”

She gave the form of her grandfather a dark look as her coffee began to emit its life-giving scent. “I burn eight thousand calories on a day when I work. My body is constantly in a battle to keep itself heated and functioning. Being half-ghost and half-human is not something that comes with a lite grocery bill.”

She poured a coffee and took the cup out to the deck, where she watched the eastern sky turn pink.

In the last fourteen days, she had taken care of a jealous poltergeist that she had almost forgotten about, met her grandfather’s ghost, and been invited to the rehearsal dinner for her sister’s wedding. There were a few more ghosts extracted and released and the daily routine that never seemed to stabilize, but she was getting better at juggling.

“You need a structure to build on your strengths. Your instinct for your skills is tremendous, but there is never an excuse to reject education.”

“I will gladly welcome education. I just need materials to study.”

“Domerik should be here shortly. I don’t understand the holdup.”

She sipped at her coffee and muttered, “I think he had to hire a truck.”

“What?”

“When you made it clear that he was arriving with the furnishings, I knew that he had to bring them properly, at least for this community. I called Domerik back and explained things, so he was transporting stuff over and hauling it here in a purchased sea container. This community is small, and if something simply appeared without any means of approach, people would talk.”

“Ah. What did he say?”

“He would be driving in this week.” She smiled.

Ulysses was shocked. “I didn’t know he could drive.”

Hecate gave her grandfather’s ghost a stare. “I thought he was your driver.”

“No, he is a butler, assistant, and archivist.”

“Oh. Well, your question is answered. He’s about five minutes out. I just heard air brakes from the highway turn.”

“How do you know it is not for someone else?” He crossed his arms.

“You don’t understand how small this town really is. I would have heard if there were any other shipments coming in.” She smiled and headed in to get her toaster pastries and more coffee.

Four minutes later, a semi made its way down her drive with a forty-foot sea container hitched to it. She smiled, got up, and walked in front of the slowly moving vehicle, waving it on to the site that she had prepared for it.

The driver got out, and they discussed the placement of the doors. He made a slow loop around and then backed up until he was in front of the site. The bed the container was on tipped, and the sea can was gently eased into place, settled down with a thud, and when Hecate signed for the receipt, he handed her the keys.

All of the chains were unhitched, the transport bed was locked back in place, and the semi made its way off her property, leaving only the sea container behind.

Ulysses looked at the metal box. “It is most unseemly.”

“This is the country. And the new world, for that matter. Practical wins until I can arrange to have a proper outbuilding built for it.” She flicked through the keys and went to the unit, figuring out which way the key went in the lock before popping the first of three of them.

“How do you even know how to open it?”

She paused and turned to him with a frown. “Unsettled ghosts were often killed in this kind of container. I needed to get in, so I learned.”

Once the locks were off, she lifted the vertical posts that locked the doors into the base of the container via their handles. The metal moved with a hard squeak and a screech. She hauled the door outward, and it swung open and to the side.

Her grandfather stepped toward the door, and he called out, “Domerik!”

A figure stirred in the darkness of the stacked boxes. “Do I hear your call, Wakeman?”

Hecate was standing right in his path with the light blazing behind her. “You hear your old master, and you hear my voice once again. It is good to see you in person, Domerik.”

He stepped toward her, and he was a match to the deep voice that she had listened to over the phone. “Miss Wakeman? You have your grandfather’s eyes.”

He bowed low and looked up with bright, twinkling green eyes. The rest of him was more suited to a Nordic bodybuilder than a librarian. His blonde hair was tied neatly at the nape of his neck, and he smiled brightly when he stood straight in front of her again.

“Miss Wakeman, I stand ready to serve you as I have served six generations of Wakemans before you.”


Hecate stepped back. “Uh...”

~

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Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Teaser Tuesday ~ Dead Air (Backlash Book Two)

The sun had set by the time she arrived in front of Mike’s house. She sat in the darkened car, staring at the familiar front door. Kate absorbed the silence around her and pulled her legs against her chest. She’d thought she would want to go inside and walk through the crime scene, but as she sat there, she didn’t want to move out of the silence. 

Her mind sifted through all of the conversations, jokes, arguments and encouragement she had shared with Mike. He was like a second father to her. He had believed in her when she didn’t even believe in herself. She didn’t want to think about her life without him. He was always the person she relied on to keep her grounded and now he was gone. 

A shadow in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She focused on it and watched as two figures moved up the side of Mike’s house before disappearing around the back. Kate jumped out of her car and followed them while dialing her phone.

“Andy! Someone is breaking into Mike’s house I need back up. I’m going in.” She heard him say something, but disconnected the call before she rounded the back corner of the house. She didn’t hear the crashing of glass or the splintering of wood. If the visitors were inside, they either had a key or they picked the lock. 

She found the back door open and pulled her gun. She listened intently for any noise as she moved silently through the house. She heard footsteps on the second floor. She crept through the kitchen and into the living room. She cleared the office and the main foyer before she headed toward the staircase. She rose to the first step and heard a key in the locked door behind her. She backed up, the doorknob twisted and there was nothing she could do. It opened and, whomever it was, stepped inside. 

Melissa.

Kate saw her, grabbed her in a hug, covering her mouth. Melissa struggled for a moment and then recognized her assailant. Kate spoke with her eyes and Melissa nodded in recognition. 

In the same moment, the crashing of furniture came from upstairs. Kate looked to Melissa. She reached down, pulled Melissa’s shoes off her feet and then grabbed her hand. She pulled her through the foyer to the back door. Kate reached for the handle when they both heard the thudding of heavy footsteps descending the stairs. Kate waited. The footfalls reached the bottom of the stairs.  
Kate made her decision. She yanked open the door, pushing Melissa out and followed her. Kate heard the cursing of men behind then. She turned and saw the men raise their weapons. She pushed Melissa to the ground. Two shots fired and she pulled Melissa back to her feet. She led her around the corner of the house and stopped. 

“Go! I’ll hold them off!” 

Kate heard the crunching of approaching footsteps and knew she had to give Melissa time to get away. Where the hell is Andy? She took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the house, her gun raised. “Stop, FBI.” 

The pursuant moved within a foot of her position. He smiled and raised his hands in surrender. 

Kate hesitated, and remembered there were two. She turned. A booted leg hit her arm, knocking the gun out of her hand. She ducked and retaliated with a sweep of the legs, sending the unseen attacker careening to the ground. 

She heard him grunt when he hit the ground and got to her feet. Kate regained her balance, but was punched hard in the chest. She fell. A spike of pain rushed up her back when she met the ground. His heat on top of her, she clawed at his face. She angled her feet in front of her and pushed him away. She saw the gun to her left and rolled toward it. A steel boot crushed her stomach. 

Kate struggled and was unwillingly lifted off the ground. Her arms were pinned behind her back. She faced her opponent and saw the claw mark she’d left imprinted on his face. A wide triumphant smile spread across her face and his eyes blazed unbridled fury at her mocking. He threw his right fist into her jaw, his left into her abdomen. Unable to defend, the blows hit her hard and fast. Her head swam in pain. She tried to burn his face into her mind.

She fought against the strong arms of his partner. She sustained another blow to her stomach and heard a crash. She dropped to the ground. Two shots echoed in the darkness, followed by two thuds. She struggled to reclaim power over her lungs. After a moment of coughing, she managed to lift herself upright. 

“Jesus, are you alright?” 

She felt Andy’s arm around her waist, helping her to her feet. “I’m good.” He walked her across the yard toward the blazing of lights on the street. They reached one of the standard black SUV’s and she leaned against it. Her head ceased to spin and heard him call for a medic. “Melissa!”

 “What?”

“Melissa Reynolds. She’s a friend of Mike’s. She arrived at the house in the middle—”

“Kate, slow down,” he put his hands on her arms. “We met her down the street. Mitchell is getting her statement. What the hell were you doing in there?”
“Nothing…I mean I wasn’t even inside until I saw them going around the back of the house,” she said, her head beginning to throb. “I was sitting in the car and saw them. That’s when I called you.”

“Nighton is going to be pissed.”

“Fuck Nighton, I just gave him two suspects in Mike’s murder,” she replied in between gasps of breath. “He’ll get over it.”


* * * *




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Saturday, April 18, 2020

👀 Saturday Seven ~ 18th April ~ My Weekly Roundup!



Happy Saturday, what have you been up to this week? 

Here is a rundown of highlights for the week. I hope you find them useful in your life! My goal as a person and a writer are to always Pay-It-Forward, so please let me know how I can help you. YES, YOU!


Enjoy your weekend & this post! Amazing things to come!


~Amy





What am I Reading? - Life After This: 6 Heart Fire Stories To Pick You Up When Life Knocks You Down by Andrea Cadelli and Kate Michael Gibson ~ Designing Your Future Begins With Healing Your Past. How do you respond when life knocks you down? Are you merely going through the motions and calling it living? How do you bounce back and grow from difficult circumstances? In Life After This, storytelling coach Andrea Cadelli talks honestly and vulnerably about why our lives spiral out of control and how to get back in the driver's seat.



What am I Listening to?Wired for Story: The Writer's Guide to Using Brain Science to Hook Readers from the Very First Sentence by Lisa Cron ~ Imagine knowing what the brain craves from every tale it encounters, what fuels the success of any great story, and what keeps readers transfixed. Wired for Story reveals these cognitive secrets--and it's a game-changer for anyone who has ever set pen to paper.


What Quote am I Pondering? – The only way to discover the limits of the possible is to go beyond them into the impossible.


What am I Researching? – Hidden civil war gold. Truth versus legend. Any thoughts or stories? Please share!



Yummy Meal of the Week – Homemade omelet with cheese, hash browns and bacon. Kudos to my eldest son! There is nothing like breakfast for dinner.



What did I Learn? – I think we should all read who moved my cheese? I learned, once again—maybe this time it will stick—I do not do well with change. My life, as of late, has been chalk full of change. While I can ignore it all I want, until I get re centered and settled my little princess (aka my subconscious mind) will do all she can to torpedo all efforts to move forward in an effort to protect me from the unknown. Can anyone relate?



What am I Watching?
Dear White People ~ on Netflix. Season’s one & two were very interesting. Season Three was a little scattered. Look for my upcoming review. Here are the details. - At a predominantly white Ivy League college, a group of black students navigate various forms of racial and other types of discrimination.



That is all for this week, my lovelies!
I hope you have an amazing week, and I will talk to you all next Saturday!


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Thursday, April 16, 2020

Awesome Excerpt Thursday ~ Don't Badger Me ~ Charlie Richards

On the Road: After a breakdown forces a shifter to make a pit stop, he realizes it’s a blessing in disguise when he scents his mate.


When Deacon Ferdmin learns his brother, Daevon, is transitioning into a new life, he decides it’s time to do the same. Plus, as a badger shifter, he’s tired of living in the city. Buying a motorcycle and heading cross-country to meet up with Daevon, Deacon enjoys the change of pace from his prior high-stakes job as a firefighter…until his motorcycle breaks down. There’s only a couple of mechanic shops in town, and the first one he goes to refuses to service his machine since he’s openly and obviously gay. As angry as it makes Deacon, when he walks into the second shop, he quickly turns grateful. He scents that somewhere within the depths of the dingy space is his mate. However, Deacon also realizes that approaching the man—Axel Spumoni—will take some finesse. Not only has Deacon already experienced discrimination, but he notices Axel is a burn victim. Can Deacon figure out a way to woo his reclusive, wary mate while dealing with the backwater town’s hostility?

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Excerpt ~ 

“We don’t serve your kind here.”

Deacon Ferdmin arched his left brow as he stared at the smirking man—James, according to the name written on his coveralls. “Excuse me?” At first, he thought James was referring to the fact that he was a badger shifter. Except, there was no way the human could know…right?

James curled his lip in a sneer as he swept his gaze over Deacon. “We ain’t helpin’ a faggot.”

Well, holy shit!

Deacon couldn’t remember the last time he’d been discriminated against for being gay. The fact that he swung that way was pretty damn blatant, too. Between the streaks of green that he’d dyed into his black hair, the studs and hoops in his ears, eyebrows, and lip, plus the pale-green and yellow plaid shirt he’d chosen to wear under his unzipped black leather jacket, it was an easy assumption.

Even all the guys at the firehouse he’d left behind when he’d resigned his position hadn’t given his sexuality a second thought in years. At least, they hadn’t acted as if they had anyway. They’d thrown him a going away party and wished him well. A few of them had said to keep in touch, and Deacon probably would for a few years. Then he would need to stop, since he would outlive all of them by centuries.

“Didn’t you hear me?” James crossed his arms over his chest. “You can leave.”

“I’d like to speak to the owner,” Deacon countered. As much as it galled him to trust the workmanship of his Triumph to a homophobic bastard, he needed his motorcycle fixed.

James sneered at him as he pointed at the store logo on the wall. “James’s Garage. I’m James.” He tapped the name on his chest. “I’m the owner, and I ain’t servicin’ the bike of a cocksucker. Get out.”

Damn. Was afraid of that.

Turning on his heel, Deacon left. He crossed to his motorcycle and leaned against it. Pulling out his phone, he opened his internet app and searched again.

When his motorcycle had quit and Deacon had coasted into town, he’d thought he’d been lucky to immediately spot the garage. Too bad he hadn’t known it was owned and operated by a backwoods homophobic hillbilly. He sure hoped there was another garage in this Podunk town.

Deacon read a second garage listing and hoped it wasn’t run by a homophobe, too. After making a mental note of the directions, he lifted it off the kickstand and began wheeling it down the street. At least with his shifter strength, pushing the motorcycle was easy.

As soon as Deacon had heard that his brother Daevon had chosen to resign as a college professor and approach a nomadic alpha to join his pack—or gang, as they called it—Deacon had decided he would do the same. He hadn’t had the opportunity to spend much time with his brother in over forty years. As a shifter, a paranormal living in a human world, he had to remake his identity every few decades.

The last time around, Deacon had headed to Chicago to be a firefighter, while Daevon had found a position in another city. Neither of them had had much free time. For the first time in a long time, Deacon had appreciated the changes in technology, but talking over a computer wasn’t the same as frolicking together in animal form.

Thinking about his brother, Deacon realized he would need to call the man and let him know he wasn’t going to make the rendezvous.

“As soon as I have something to tell him,” Deacon muttered as the sign for the second garage came into view. The place appeared old and dingy, but at least, there was a glowing open in the window.

Deacon left his Triumph in the parking lot and headed into the office. Seeing no one behind the counter of the dirty room, he grimaced. He could hear clanging and talking coming from an open door to the left of the counter, so he knew someone was there.

“Hurry up with that oil change, Axel,” a man ordered. “You were supposed to have that done this morning.”

“Yes, sir,” a deep voice responded softly.

Deacon knew that only his shifter hearing allowed him to make it out. The bass tones caused a warm flutter in his gut, and he almost hummed appreciatively. Having already been singled out for being gay stayed his reaction.

Instead, Deacon headed for the door and hollered, “Hello, the garage?”

“Yeah!” responded the first voice from deep in the bay behind an older Dodge pick-up.

Stopping in the doorway, Deacon swept his gaze over the area. He spotted movement in the back and waited. As he watched an overweight man in filthy coveralls lumbering toward him, he tried to breathe shallowly.

The scent of grease, oil, and other vehicle fluids hung heavy in the air. To his surprise, however, there was something else, too. He took a slow, deeper inhale, and heat and need began pooling in his gut.

Oh, damn! Do I seriously smell my mate in here?

With the way the heavyset man stared at him with narrowed eyes and a curled lip, Deacon prayed to whatever gods cared to listen that it wasn’t him. Great. Another homophobe. Doing his best to ignore it, Deacon dipped his chin in a nod of greeting.

“Hello, sir,” Deacon greeted. “I think the stator went out on my motorcycle. Can you take a look?”

The man looked Deacon up and down, his expression easy to read. “Axel, take care of this customer.” Then he turned and walked away.

Oooookay. At least he’s not my mate. His nasty BO just about knocked me outta my boots!


Which leaves Axel.

~

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