GOLD! A gritty Australian saga, new from Thomas Greenbank!

GOLD! by Thomas GreenbankGOLD!—The Kincaid Saga, Book 1.

Blurb:
GOLD! is a tale of greed, betrayal, family conflict, rape, and murder. It is also, however, a story of love and loyalty — and of how one man’s pride and prejudice can lead to terrible retribution.

Malcolm Kincaid is a self-made man. He is also a ruthless businessman and opportunist. He knows what it takes to build and maintain a business empire, but how far will he be prepared to go to achieve his goals — and what will he sacrifice along the way?

Over three decades, Malcolm Kincaid uses, abuses, and dominates associates and family alike, crushing all opposition in his pursuit of wealth and power.

When he allows the pollution of an Aboriginal settlement’s water supply, however, he faces justice of a kind he could never imagine.

Buy links:
Amazon (eBook): http://viewbook.at/GOLD
Universal link: https://books2read.com/u/3yewpv

Excerpt: (The action takes place near the Two Brothers gold mine, north of Kalgoorlie, Western Australia, in 1980.)

Malcolm had already opened another can of beer by the time Jamie started the Land Cruiser and headed down the access road toward the Goldfields Highway. He stood on the verandah, watching as the receding taillights glimmered in the deepening twilight.

As Jamie neared the mine turnoff, he popped a cassette into the Cruiser’s player. John Lennon launched into ‘Beautiful Boy’, Jamie’s current favourite song, and he cranked up the volume as he swung onto the bitumen. Thirty minutes and he’d be home. Home to Rachel; and his own Beautiful Boy, 17-month-old Lachlan.

***

Warren Burroughs—Rabbit, to friends and coworkers—couldn’t remember a longer, more frustrating day. What started out as a routine run from his depot in Coolgardie, to Kambalda—a mining town 60 kilometres to the south—and then up to Menzies with a ‘hot shot’ delivery before returning home, had turned into an epic comedy of errors.

Delays and unexpected problems were a fact of life in the transport industry, but today had been one to take the cake.

A round trip of a little less than 400 kilometres, the whole thing should have been done and dusted by mid-afternoon. When dealing with mining company hierarchy, however, things rarely went to plan. Although he had been on the road by six am, and arrived at his Kambalda destination before seven, it would be well past midday before he was on his way north again. The mine site office had not been aware he was even coming, let alone prepared his load.

Communication glitches like these were common. He settled himself in the corner of the office to wait while the staff located the replacement pump he was to deliver. Then, of course, they had to complete all the necessary paperwork and finally arrange someone to load it onto the back of his ageing Kenworth for the next leg.

Next came the news that the low-loader organised to bring the pump out to him had broken down. He was welcome to drive on-site to collect his load, but first, he’d have to do a short induction course. Once he completed this, it was time for lunch, so there was another hour’s wait before he got the OK to proceed onto the mine site and collect his cargo.

After leaving Kambalda at a little after 1:30 he eventually reached his drop-off point around 4 pm.

Fortunately, things went more smoothly this time. Probably because they had been champing at the bit waiting for the pump; the breakdown having halted production for the past 24 hours.

Then, at 5:30 pm, he was at last on his way home. All he had to worry about now, he thought, was dodging kangaroos.

He was just passing Lake Goongarrie, a sprawling salt lake on the east side of the road, when a voice called over the two-way radio.

“G’day there, Rabbit, you old bugger!” It was a voice he knew well.

“How you doin’, Ralph?” Rabbit replied, “Havin’ a good run? How’s the new rig going, by the way?”

The north-bound road train, its three trailers loaded with supplies bound for Menzies and beyond, thundered noisily past. Rabbit’s unladen rig swayed as it did so.

“Oh, you know,” Ralph said, “same old shit, different shovel. I’m having a better day than you, apparently. I hear they held you up a bit down at the Kambalda site.”

The bitumen grapevine was working to its usual standard, Rabbit thought. “Yeah, you could say that,” he replied. “Sometimes I swear that if I had a duck, it’d bloody well drown.”

Ralph laughed, though Rabbit didn’t hear it and continued with a sigh, “Yeah, you know the drill. This is WA after all; ‘wait awhile’.”

“You got that right,” Ralph replied. “Oh well, you keep it safe and stay upright Rabbit. I’ll catch you on the flip side.”

“Roger that. You too, Ralph.”

The radio was already starting to crackle, so there was no time for any real conversation. Still, it was good to hear a familiar voice now and then. Rabbit wondered how the old-timers had coped in the days before CB radios came into being. For that matter, spare a thought for the old bullockies and camel drivers who’d often go for weeks or even months without seeing another soul.

Rabbit reached down and upped the volume on his cassette player. A familiar Slim Dusty tune filled the air, and he began to sing along, grateful there was no one else there to suffer his discordant rendition. He noticed a light-coloured four-wheel-drive approaching the highway on his left, about a kilometre away. Someone had been working late, it seemed. The land around here was dotted with many small and medium-sized mines. As desolate and uninviting as it looked, this was a genuine gold mine of opportunity, this barren land.

As he approached the mine access road, Rabbit eased back on the accelerator. Was that clown going to stop? Surely he’d seen the truck coming. His rig was hardly invisible!

Before he knew it, the Land Cruiser veered straight onto the road not fifty metres in front of him.

Rabbit jumped on the brake and clutch simultaneously, and as the tyres squealed in noisy protest, he braced himself for impact.

***

Jamie knew he should have stopped before driving onto the highway. He knew because he had driven out from this access road so many times before. He also knew that had he not consumed so much beer in the last few hours, he would have stopped.

But now it was too late for recriminations; too late for anything but to hold on and hope for the best.

The Kenworth’s bull bar caught the four-wheel-drive on the right front side, spinning it around like a toy. The rear of the Toyota then collided with the leading edge of the big rig’s trailer, which sent it careening off the roadway and straight into the large quartz rock with ‘Two Brothers Mine’ painted on it in bold, red letters.

Although the Land Cruiser was barely doing more than thirty, the force from the impact was enough to drive the engine block through the firewall and into the driver and passenger area. The steering column struck Jamie square in the middle of his chest, breaking several ribs and squeezing his lungs to around half their volume.

Immediately after the collision, the scene was eerily quiet. Rabbit’s eighteen-wheeler remained upright, but the driver himself was unconscious and would be for several minutes. Few truckies in those days, and in truth even in these days, bothered with seat belts. A trickle of blood snaked its way down his forehead and dripped onto the dashboard.

In the wrecked Land Cruiser, Jamie struggled to stay awake. A vain struggle, however. His heart, fuelled by adrenaline, was pumping hard; pumping his lifeblood out of his body, from severe crush injuries to his legs, and onto the floor.

Strangely, the cassette player was still working. As Jamie drifted into unconsciousness, John Lennon was singing; “Life is what happens to you as you’re busy making other plans.”GOLD! by Thomas GreenbankMeet Thomas Greenback:
Welcome, Thomas! We’re so happy to have you here.

NA: How did you come up with the idea for your book?
TG: The original idea came from a writing exercise while I was completing a correspondence course in writing several years ago. All I had then was the ending and a vague idea of a story line.

I started work on GOLD! while I was employed as a wide-load pilot driver escorting oversize loads—mostly mining equipment—around regional Western Australia. I did that for six years during which time I met many of the people who would influence the way I built the characters and situations in the story.

NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
TG: Aside from what I learned while sub-contracting as a pilot driver I researched the lives of various well-known entrepreneurs and wheeler-dealers. I also joined a gold fossickers forum where I picked up lots of information on gold-mining techniques.

The locations were easy, as I’d visited and worked in each of the regions in the book.

NA: A fun fact about writing your book.
TG: A pivotal part of the story concerns the creation of a fake gold nugget. This actually happened. Not exactly the way it does in the book, but if you research the Mickelberg Brothers and the Yellow Rose of Texas nugget, you’ll see where I gleaned some inspiration.

NA: What started you on the path to writing?
TG: I’ve dabbled in writing for most of my life, though I’d never really taken it seriously. In my younger days I was too busy trying to be a rock star. That didn’t work out exactly as planned. I saw a newspaper ad one day for ‘The Writing School’ (now known as Sackville Academy) and enrolled in a correspondence course.

NA: What do your friends and family think about your being a writer?
TG: I’m sure most just think of it as my hobby. They know about GOLD! being published and some have read it. They invariably express surprise when they do. I don’t push anyone to buy the book though. I’ve gifted copies to those who seemed interested.

NA: The biggest surprise you had after becoming a writer.
TG: The biggest surprise is how much I enjoy it and how I feel as if this is what I was meant to do all along. If I’d put as much effort into writing as I did to music I’d possibly be a superstar now. (Just kidding) I’d certainly be way ahead of where I am right now, that’s for sure. To all aspiring authors out there—it’s never too late (or early) to make a start.

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
TG: A bit of both. I always start each chapter with an idea of what is supposed to happen. I make notes and add them to the side panel of my writing program. I even add snippets of dialogue and phrases that seem pertinent.

The end result, though, rarely follows the outline exactly. Sometimes the characters take me off track and I just follow along to see where it goes. I often don’t know where a scene is going to eventually take me. I swear, sometimes the characters just seem to come to life!

If it doesn’t sound right in the end, there’s always the delete key.

NA: What has been one of your most rewarding experiences as an author?
TG: Getting to know other writers. The author community is incredible. I’ve met a few in the flesh, but I communicate with several other authors and everyone seems so helpful and willing to give advice. The general attitude is that we aren’t competing for sales so there’s no reason to be jealous with information. There’s a very apt saying: A rising tide lifts all boats. I think that’s how it goes, anyway.

NA: Which kind of scenes are the hardest for you to write? Action, dialogue, sex?
TG: Probably sex scenes. I’m always thinking that if my characters get too kinky the reader might think I’m like that too.

I love writing dialogue. I think many books don’t have enough. Dialogue draws the reader in and exposes a character’s personality so much better than exposition. All writing coaches agree we should show, not tell. Dialogue is the best way to do this.

NA: What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
TG: I once won a bottle of Johnny Walker Double Black by answering this question. My answer? Nelson Mandela. (This was many years ago, when he was still with us) No, I wasn’t trying to be funny. I honestly think he would have been extremely interesting to talk with.

“Everyone can rise above their circumstances and achieve success if they are dedicated to, and passionate about, what they do.”

NA: What’s the strangest place you’ve brushed your teeth?
TG: I once spent a night in a roadside parking bay somewhere in the north-west of Western Australia. I was on my way back from delivering a load to a remote mine.

I’d run out of drinking water and brushed my teeth using beer. Trust me—peppermint and beer is not a great flavour combination!

NA: What’s your first thought when the alarm goes off in the in the morning?
TG: Actually, I haven’t set an alarm in the last five years. I wake at around the same time every day, usually between 6:30 and 7:00. After I quit my last job, it took me ages to get out of the habit of waking before sunrise.

NA: What are you working on now?
TG: I’m working on the first draft of what will become book 2 in the Kincaid Saga. It’s a prequel that follows the life of Malcolm’s father, Angus, and shows how he influenced Malcolm’s character. Hint: Angus is not a nice man, either.

NA: What is any question we didn’t ask that you would like to answer?
TG: What advice would I give to an aspiring author?

I’d say write, write, and write some more. Then ask another writer for advice. Don’t ask your friends. There are three reasons for this.

  1. They don’t want to hurt your feelings so they’ll say it’s great when it isn’t.
  2. They may be resentful or jealous and they’ll tell you it’s bad when it isn’t. or
  3. They wouldn’t know good writing if it bit them on the bum. (Unless they happen to be a writer themselves, in which case refer to answers 1 and 2 above)

Thomas Greenbank:
Thomas Greenbank writes gritty Australian fiction. His writing draws deeply on his diverse background and professional experience.

From years as a professional musician, factory worker, business owner, driver, ceramic artist, even crossword compiler, and more—to 25 years as a full-time career, there’s not much he hasn’t experienced. This diversity shows in his writing, as does his penchant for accuracy in research.

Now semi-retired, Thomas lives south of Adelaide, South Australia, with his wife — #1 fan and biggest critic — Linda. When he’s not writing you’ll probably find them fishing or walking on a nearby beach.

Website: https://thomasgreenbank.com

Amazon Profile: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B08NTYX32B

GoodReads profile: https://www.goodreads.com/author/dashboard?ref=nav_profile_authordash

Charity Sunday: Shriners Hospitals for Children

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!


This month’s charity is one near and dear to my heart: the Shriners Hospitals for Children. Charity Navigator has awarded Shriners Hospitals “with its prestigious Four Star Charity award. Such distinction recognizes Shriners Hospitals for Children for its sound fiscal management and commitment to accountability and transparency.”

When I was ten-months-old, a polio epidemic struck Sioux City, Iowa and the surrounding area. Polio was not at all uncommon in the early 1050s, but this epidemic was horrible. I had been walking at nine-months. Then one morning I was crying in my crib and when Mom came to get me, I couldn’t stand. We have never figured out why I contracted the disease. Lots of public places—like swimming pools—were closed, and I wasn’t going to school or day care yet. Another strange thing is, Mom didn’t get it. No one has ever been able to explain it, but I have my opinion. All things really do happen for a reason. God knew that I would need a strong, loving mother to see me through the recovery I had ahead, and He kept Mom well.

Mom tells me that they announced the people who had died on the radio and also those who were admitted to the hospitals. In fact, hearing my name on the radio is how my grandparents found out I’d been admitted. The city needed so much help that the Navy sent in corpsmen from Great Lakes Naval Station, hundreds of miles away. For nine days, my fever was so high the doctors didn’t encourage Mom to believe I would live, and if I did, the odds that I might have brain damage was a real possibility. In other words, things were grim.

But I did survive (duh!). The damage wasn’t all that severe, either. My left side was weakened. Muscles in my left leg stopped growing as fast as those on my right and some didn’t work at all. In my first year, my godfather sponsored me to attend the Shriners Hospitals for Crippled Children (now the Shriners Hospitals for Children). They did a lot of work with victims of polio back then. Fortunately, Dr. Salk and his colleagues developed the polio vaccine in 1953 and the number of cases dropped dramatically until it’s practically unheard of today. (Years ago, a young girl asked why I was limping. I told her that I’d had polio and that the limp was something I’d had all my life. “Polio?” Her eyes got big and round. “You must be really old!”)

The Shriners Hospitals never charge a family for any medical care. When I went into the hospital for surgery, I was generally there for a a month or even two. During that time, they housed me, fed me, schooled me, entertained me, and provided all medical care, before and after surgery—all for free. Our only responsibility was to get to the hospital and home. I received the very best of care in a safe and clean environment, with the best medical staff, and I will be forever grateful. If not for the Shriners, I might not have been able to walk—or to run, to dance, to drive a truck, to live a life I’ve thoroughly enjoyed and loved.

Please leave a comment and I will make a donation to an organization for which I have lasting gratitude. Thank you!


Mystic Desire--Paranormal anthologyHalloween is right around the corner. Just in time, might I recommend the anthology Mystic Desire?

Mystic Desire is a collection of short paranormal romance stories. This is a chance to read and discover the work of a diverse group of very talented authors.

The themes in this book are varied, as are the collection of characters and artifacts, including Native American dream catchers, mystical jewelry, and characters such as lustful vampires, hot warlocks, a grumpy leprechaun, a ghostly terrier, a zombie apocalypse and things that go bump in the night.

From soft and tender love to hot passionate, kinky sex, there is something for everyone in this anthology.

Mystic Desire--Paranormal anthologyThe Sweetest Magic of All – Alice Renaud
When a sexy apprentice witch and a hot warlock go back in time to locate a magical amulet, they find more than they bargained for. It’s May Eve, the most magical night of the year, and normal rules don’t apply…

An Awareness of Evil – Dee S. Knight
Only two things stand between evil and a small girl: the visions of Amanda McMasters and Detective Brendan Gilchrist. Neither can afford to be wrong.

Bewitching the Wolf – Zia Westfield
The Witch, Alice Humphreys has poured her heart and soul into creating a magical B&B where guests experience the fantasy vacation of their dreams! Brodie MacEwan has been sent to investigate the mysterious death of his uncle. He never expected to discover his soul mate in his dreams. But is the illusion real? Alice knows that there is something all too predatory about the Scotsman and he makes her body tingle in places it shouldn’t!

Calling All Angels – Lora Logan
Elijah Baker, an immortal tasked with fighting against demons that exist on earth, finds peace when he meets his new neighbor, Celeste. But when he realizes that their love comes with a cost, he is faced with choosing between his calling and a chance at true love.

Dream Catcher – Callie Carmen
Long ago, a medicine man had made a matched set of dream catchers as a wedding gift to protect the Chief’s daughter and her warrior husband. He had called upon the benevolent spirits to keep the two soul mates safe and in a loving, healthy marriage. It was foretold that if the two dream catchers were ever divided the new owners would be drawn together as soul mates. Was that possible?

Life Saving – Anne Krist
Saving lives isn’t just for adults. Sometimes the innocent magic of a child can do the job better.

Love from the Mist – Patricia Elliott
When Jace Warden learns that his brother plans to announce his engagement at a family get together, he flees to the other side of the world to escape the joyous celebration.

Or at least attempts to… His plane never makes it, and he winds up trapped on an island. Little does he realize, he’s not alone; there’s a mischievous little entity milling about, and she wants to play.

Love Knows No Apocalypse – Patricia Elliott
Getting stranded in the middle of a storm was not Samantha Wheeler’s idea of an ideal situation, especially in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. But fighting zombies was the easy part; her heart, though, was a whole other matter. Thanks to a man named Steve Jones.

When they find themselves in danger, she has to decide what’s more important – dying for someone she loves or surviving.

Love that Binds – Carol Schoenig
On the outskirts of a small town where nothing grows, a young girl, Ianthee, is being bullied and accused of being a witch. Young Caleb, inexplicably drawn to Ianthee, comes to her rescue. Before they can explore their feelings, Caleb and his family disappear. What happened to him, and what part does a long-ago legend play in their lives?

Love’s Ghost – R.M. Olivia
“Sorry, babe. I know it hurts to hear.” John frowned. I’ll make this brief. I spoke to the man in charge and he is giving me one last chance.”

“Come again?”

“I’m allowed to make love to my wife one last time before I have to cross over. So, are you ready for your husband? Are you ready for me, Ingrid?” He lifted my chin up and ran his thumb along my lips. I felt a chill go down my spine. How could this be real? How could this be happening?

The Anniversary – Richard Savage
A cruel twist of fate wrenched Evelyn and Peter apart on their wedding anniversary. Evelyn’s life descends into darkness. James enters her life giving her a chance of happiness. Evelyn discovers a piece of jewelry, that has the power to grant her time with Peter on their anniversary. She adores James, but needs Peter. Can she ever really let Peter go, while there’s still a chance they can be together?

The Mortal Vampire – Suzanne Smith
Remy enjoys life as a vampire, never giving a thought to sucking every last drop of tasty blood out of his unfortunate victims and leaving them door nail dead. But his cold and carefree existence changes the day he crosses paths with the beautiful and mysterious mortal Angela.

Through the Veil – Jan Selbourne
A beautiful March day in 1875 ends in tragedy when the wagon carrying Helen and Marcus plunges down the mountainside. Generations pass before Rachel Finlay finds an old sepia photo of a man and woman. She knows them but she’s never met them and now, for the peace of mind she desperately craves, she goes back to where it began. In time, through the veil, knowing she may never return.

Unconditional Lust – Breanna Hayes
The massive, hideous merrow leader, Muruch, craves the taste of human flesh. Confined to the ocean, he feeds his horde with sailors from ships pulled into the maw of the Bermuda Triangle. When US Army Captain, Nurys Shaye, puts her life on the line to save him after being captured, his hunger for human flesh is shadowed by the desire for her body and her love. Will she be able to see past his appearance and trust him to break down her walls and teach her to feel?

Mystic Desire--Paranormal anthology


About me:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Be sure to check out Jan Selbourne’s and Dee’s newsletter where you can find exclusive free stuff to read.

Where to find her (them):
Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

New! Steampunk, BDSM, Shifter: Rajasthani Moon by Lisabet Sarai

Rajasthani Moon  by Lisabet SaraiNeither kink nor curse can stop a woman on a mission.

Blurb:
A bandit prince cursed into beast form under the full moon.

A brilliant but sadistic Rajah whose robotic sex toys mingle torture and delight.

A voluptuous spy on a mission from Her Majesty, tasked with discovering Rajasthan’s secrets.

She has never faced such a challenge. 

 When Rajasthan refuses to remit its taxes, the Queen calls on her most lethal and seductive secret agent, Cecily Harrowsmith. Cecily expects to have little difficulty persuading the rebellious Rajah to submit once more to the Empire. Instead, she is the one forced to submit – to endure unprecedented extremes of pleasure and pain.

Kidnapped by the ruler’s half-brother Pratan and delivered into the hands of the handsome but depraved Rajah Amir, she soon finds herself fighting against her own lascivious nature as much as the schemes of her captors. Her sympathy for the moon-cursed wolf-man Pratan only complicates her situation. Cecily has never failed to complete an assignment, but now she risks betrayal by both her body and her heart.

 Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been re-edited, revised and updated for this release.

Buy links:
Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/363-rajasthani-moon-steampunk-shifter-bdsm-romance/

 Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09DBMLQQG

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09DBMLQQG

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1100493

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rajasthani-moon-lisabet-sarai/1140045684?ean=2940165000041

Kobohttps://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/rajasthani-moon-steampunk-shifter-bdsm-romance

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58835067-rajasthani-moon

Online Excerpt:
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2021/08/celebrating-my-new-release-steampunk.html

Rajasthani Moon by Lisabet SaraiIs Rajasthani Moon erotic romance?
It would have been much faster to fly.

 Alas, Cecily Harrowsmith—special agent for Her Majesty the Queen, expert in the martial arts of three continents, past mistress of princes, potentates and the occasional prime minister—was afraid of flying. She despised herself for this weakness, but not enough to board one of the Empire’s sleek, viridium-powered airships, strap herself into her seat and hope for the best.

 Thus begins my most recent release, Rajasthani Moon, a book that deliberately defies categorization. It contains elements of the steam punk and paranormal sub-genres, plus quite a lot of moderately extreme BDSM and a M/F/M ménage. It features a kick-ass Rubenesque heroine, a billionaire Rajah and a sexy, deliciously disreputable bandit. It flirts with non-consensual fantasies and lesbian attraction. It has some funny moments, not infrequently associated with sex. Oh, and it’s a romance, with what I hope is a sublimely satisfying happy ending (although I won’t tell you who ends up with whom!) 

Writing this book involved taking risks. I’ve observed how readers cling to their favorite genres. I’m breaking rules right and left with this novel. Will the market embrace my mash-up? Or will readers run away in droves, terrified of the unfamiliar?

Producing the same sort of stories, again and again, can be comfortable. It may help sales, too. To grow as authors, though, we have to leave safety behind. We must step out onto that high pinnacle of creativity and let go, defying the fear that we’ll plummet ignominiously to the ground. We have to get over our fear of flying.

Snippet:
“Wait a minute. ‘Cecily’, you said? Something’s tickling the back of my brain… Let me examine the Universal Electropaedia…” In the ensuing pause, Pratan glanced over his shoulder towards the bed. She assumed a demeanour of indifference. “Ah, yes…Dark complexion, you say, and blue eyes?”

“Correct.”

“Between twenty-five and thirty years of age? About eleven stone?”

“Ten stone four pounds!” Cecily interjected before she could help herself.

“Yes, and tall too, for a woman. And from the way she’s straining against the ropes, I’d say she understands every word we’re saying!”

Her spirits sank. Did the Electropaedia actually include an entry for her? Why hadn’t the Empire’s censors excised it? This unforgivable breach of security might well have sealed her fate, though she wasn’t about to give up yet.

“Brother, I believe that you’ve succeeded in capturing one of Queen Victoria’s most notorious agents—Miss Cecily Harrowsmith. According to reports, she is brave, brilliant, beautiful, and as dangerous as a king cobra.”

Pratan rubbed his bruised shin where she’d kicked him and grinned at her with genuine menace. “That sounds like her.”

Rajasthani Moon by Lisabet SaraiExcerpt:
It would have been much faster to fly.

Alas, Cecily Harrowsmith—special agent for Her Majesty the Queen, expert in the martial arts of three continents, past mistress of princes, potentates and the occasional prime minister—was afraid of flying. She despised herself for this weakness, but not enough to board one of the Empire’s sleek, viridium-powered airships, strap herself into her seat and hope for the best.

Hence the current tedious journey. Cecily peered out of the window of her carriage at the endless expanse of russet-coloured desert stretching in all directions. The mere sight of all that sand was enough to make her throat burn. She sipped her tepid tea, wondering for the twentieth time why she’d accepted this bloody assignment.

For England, of course, and the good of the Empire. Her Majesty could scarcely afford to have her vassal states simply refuse to pay their taxes. When the Rajah of Jaipur had expelled Her Majesty’s tax collectors and declared his kingdom independent, the Queen had imposed a viridium embargo. No society these days could function without the energy-rich mineral. At least this was the theory. Yet the Rajah and his half-brother had held out for the past three years, despite being completely cut off from the Empire’s supply lines.

Cecily’s job was to discover how the isolated principality had managed to survive. She’d also been instructed to convince the errant rulers to return to the bosom of the Empire, if at all possible. If persuasion failed, she was authorised to use force. However, she doubted this would be necessary. Persuasion was after all her forte.

Once more she extracted the portraits of the twin rulers of Rajasthan from her portmanteau to study their countenances. Both had skin the colour of nicely browned toast. Amir, the official Rajah, was clean-shaven, with deep-set eyes, a prominent nose and lips as full as a girl’s. He wore his hair in European style but the rainbow-hued turban perched on his head as well as the loops piercing his well-shaped ears were more than enough to dispel any notion that he’d been anglicised. Pratan looked far less civilised, with tangled black locks reaching to his shoulders and a drooping moustache that gave him a permanent sneer. He shared his brother’s regal nose but his features were more angular, less finished-looking than his aristocratic sibling’s. Both men were strikingly handsome, each in his own way. The paintings provided little information about their figures, but, given the stark, unforgiving nature of their country, Cecily thought it unlikely that they’d be stout. With luck, their bodies would have the same masculine appeal as their faces.

With a sigh, she tucked the images away and settled back against the cushions. Cecily was a woman of action. The two-day journey from Bombay had sorely tried her patience. Miserable roads—cart tracks, really—had limited the speed of her private motorised carriage. She could have travelled many times faster on Britain’s macadam highways.

Nevertheless, she’d been glad to escape the superficial, conservative society of London—the falseness and the gossip, back-stabbing and double-dealing. Not to mention the dank weather and the horribly uncomfortable clothing. She knew that a tightly-laced corset accentuated her ample curves, but she far preferred native dress, especially in this kind of heat. She shook out the voluminous skirt of her chaniya choli, admiring the little mirrors sewn into the blue and orange print. The Rajasthani women wore nothing underneath and she followed suit. It was far more practical when one had to answer the call of nature out here in the middle of nowhere.

The quilted fabric brushed against her unprotected pubis, engendering a pleasant tickling sensation. Now there was an idea for passing the time… When she glanced outside again, she noted that the sun was lower. The land had become rougher and greener as they approached the foothills of the Aravalli range. Jaipur was located on the other side of the mountains.

She tapped one of the buttons on the polished wood control panel to her right in order to signal the driver. “How much longer before we arrive?” she asked in fluent Hindi.

“At least three hours, ma’am,” came the disembodied voice. “Not until after dark, I should think.”

After dark. That wasn’t good at all. Bandits tended to flourish in this sort of wild landscape. “Well, do your best to get us there as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Three hours. She checked the dagger strapped to her upper arm, well-hidden under her sleeve. When she made a fist, the knife shot into her hand, ready for use. Her Majesty’s engineers truly had no equal. There was a miniature pistol tucked into her waist as well, a marvel of workmanship no less deadly for its tiny size. These weapons would have to do. If brigands struck, she’d have no time to access the cache of armaments hidden under the clothing in her trunk.

Rajasthani Moon by Lisabet SaraiSnippet:
“Stop there, Miss Harrowsmith. I doubt I should trust you to approach me more closely.” The voice was deep and mellow, with a lazy, smoky quality that reminded her of full moons and autumn bonfires. The man’s English was practically perfect. His lilting accent only added to the charm of his utterance.

She found herself almost eager to obey orders delivered in such a lush voice.

“Kneel up. Let me look at you.”

Cecily tried to keep her gaze averted as she complied, though she was desperately tempted to see if the ruler was as handsome in the flesh as in his portrait.

His chuckle sent a shimmer through her, something like shame but hotter and sweeter. “Very nice indeed. If all of Queen Victoria’s minions were as delectable, we might be more willing to return to her fold.”

Rajasthani Moon  by Lisabet SaraiAbout Lisabet:
Lisabet SaraiLisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

Time is almost up to find a binge-worthy book/author!

N.N. Light’s Book Heaven reminds us that August is considered to be the last month of summer. September brings school starts, cooler weather (at least for those of us beneath the north star and not the southern cross), and the the beginning of holiday thoughts. August might be our last time for discovering a new author or book. Maybe a binge-worthy book!

Hurry! The end of August is almost here! Check out the N.N. Light Binge-worthy Book Festival. Find a surprising author you’ve never read and enter to win a $75 Amazon gift card!!

Look for my two books that have already been featured (Only a Good Man Will Do and One Woman Only) and look for The Cinderella Curse on August 31–the last day of the festival.

Charity Sunday: Folds of Honor

Charity Sunday: Dee S. Knight

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!


This month’s charity is Folds of Honor. https://www.foldsofhonor.org/ The mission of Folds of Honor is: “To provide educational scholarships to spouses and children of America’s fallen and disabled service-members. … Honor their sacrifice. Educate their legacy.” So, this charity helps two ways that are near and dear to my heart—it helps give people who need the boost an education they might not be able to afford, and it honors those who have given much. Please comment!


Burning Bridges by Anne KristI wrote Burning Bridges as Anne Krist. It’s not an erotic romance, but it’s a book full of emotion and is a true love story. The hero, Paul Steinert, is in the Navy and is about to ship out for Vietnam when he first meets Sara Noland. Perhaps his child could have benefited from Folds of Honor!


Excerpt:
Virginia Beach, Virginia – January, 1970

“Of all days to debate about whether to wear the short skirt or the shorter one,” Sara wailed to her best friend, Cindy. “We’ll be lucky if we aren’t late.”

The blue Volkswagen Beetle sped down the highway. Or as fast as it could speed, with the tiny engine pushing from the rear, and Sara having to shift gears so often because of traffic and lights. She huffed in frustration.

“Oh, we have plenty of time. I had to make sure I looked just right. You never know who we’ll see,” Cindy replied with her usual assurance.

“I hope you’re right.”

“You worry, Sara, and things always turn out okay. Just keep your mind on driving and we’ll be fine.” Cindy clasped her hands and shrieked with excitement. “I can’t believe our parents bought us tickets to see Michael Wales!”

That brought a real smile to Sara’s face. “I know! Our parents are the best.”

She flicked a knob on the radio as she veered into the parking lot, silencing Neil Diamond’s “Holly Holy.”

“See? I told you. You worry too much. We’re here with a good ten minutes to spare.” Cindy flipped her straight blonde hair over her shoulder. She turned the rearview mirror toward her and applied a fresh coating of lip gloss.

“We’re only ‘here’ if I can find a place to park.” Sara maneuvered her little car up one aisle and down another, until finally, “Good! There’s one.” Before she could get to the space, a sleek, red Corvette swung in.

“Oh, no! That was our space,” Cindy cried.

Two men unfolded themselves from the little sports car, the driver with olive skin and hair as dark as the passenger’s was golden. The men started toward the building. Suddenly, the passenger looked at Sara and then back at the space.

The low-hanging sun framed him, a fair giant with short hair and the physique of a warrior. For a brief moment, Sara pictured him with sword and shield at the helm of a Norse sailing vessel. Her heart fluttered and her breath caught. Then she brought herself under control.

The girls watched as he talked to the dark-haired man and gestured to them. The driver looked around then shook his head before continuing toward the building. The blond shrugged apologetically at Sara and followed his friend.

“Shoot! I thought maybe he would have a heart.” Sara eased off the clutch and started forward again.

“They were cute.” Cindy swerved in her seat to watch the men as they picked their way through the parked cars. “I wonder what the chances are of seeing them–”

A piercing whistle cut through Cindy’s words. “Stop, Sara! The blond guy is waving at us.”

Sara turned to look behind them. The blond man was indeed waving, gesturing for her to come toward him. “What does he want?” she muttered. Deciding to ignore him, she drove on, turning to the right.

He whistled again.

“He wants you to pull around there. He’s still waving.”

“Oh, all right,” Sara grumbled. “But make sure your door is locked, Cindy. And don’t roll your window down.”

Cindy laughed. “You sound like my mother. What do you think is going to happen right here in the parking lot?”

Sara managed a U-turn and drove to where the man stood. Rolling her window down an inch, she said loudly, “What is it?”

He bent down to peer through the glass at her, a lopsided grin on his face. Good Lord, he was cute. Muscled shoulders and arms, angular, strong features, hair a rich blond, and dark, sapphire-blue eyes.

“Oh, my heavens,” she heard Cindy say under her breath.

For once, Sara understood her friend’s meaning. His grin made her stomach do flip-flops and her palms sweat.

“I don’t bite,” he said around a chuckle, motioning to the almost closed window. “I just wanted to tell you, there’s a place right over there. I think you can squeeze your Bug into it.” He turned and pointed at a half space at the end of the aisle, a couple of cars away.

Flashing him a look of gratitude, she put the little car in gear and pulled into the spot. The tall, handsome stranger followed.

When Sara turned off the engine, the guy opened the door for Cindy and held out his hand to assist her. Out of nowhere, a sharp pang of jealousy struck Sara. Its intensity and suddenness disturbed her. After all, she didn’t know this man; what difference did it make if he and Cindy hit it off?

By the time she collected her purse, stepped out and made sure the doors were locked, Cindy and the mystery man were like old friends. Again she felt the Green Monster strike, and gave a mental shake to rid herself of its clutches.

“Sara,” Cindy said, smiling dreamily at the tall man, “this is Paul Steinert. Wasn’t he just wonderful, finding us this space?” She tittered.

It was all Sara could manage, not to gape. Cindy always flirted but tittering was something new.

“Paul, this is my best friend, Sara Noland.”

Paul smiled and held out his hand. “Hello, Sara. I’m sorry about the other space. This one is closer to the door, though.”

She locked gazes with him and her tongue twisted in her mouth. Surges of heat flew through her body. If his smile had that effect, what would his touch do to her? Something wonderful.

No, something forbidden.

Buy or Read for free on KU: mybook.to/BurningBridges

About me:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Be sure to check out Jan Selbourne’s and my newsletter where you can find exclusive free stuff to read.

Where to find her (them):

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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New! Sci-Fi pre-order: The Moon Crossing by Eileen Troemel and Jan Selbourne

The Moon Crossing: Troemel and Selbourne

USA Today Bestselling Author Eileen Troemel and 2019 Coffee Pot Book Club Historical Book of the Year Silver Medal winner Jan Selbourne present an alternate history, sweet romance of life after the Moon Landing in 1969. Release date: November 13.

Blurb:

In 2030, World Correction Center – the Earth’s most secure prison – is a miserable place to land. Since it’s on the moon, it’s inescapable. It contains the worst criminals Earth has ever seen. So why are the brilliant minds across the globe being sent to this black hole of the justice system. When renown archaeologist Micky Cooper is charged with embezzling, his sister Susan knows it’s a set up.  It’s up to her to prove his innocence. Susan thinks she might be paranoid but she swears she’s being followed and should she trust the nice man whose cousin has disappeared as well? Was it a chance meeting or is he against her too? Teaming up with Greg Tanner, a man equally resolved to prove the innocence of his cousin, Samantha Tanner – a word leading linguist – Susan and Greg seek clues wherever they can find them, but they’re barely keeping one step ahead of those who want them to stop.  They begin to unravel the web of lies, fraud and cover up. Just when they start to put pieces together, Susan and Greg are forced to run for their lives.  With a nudge from Samantha they find someone to help. Is this woman an ally? Or simply part of a greater conspiracy to hide the truth? What exactly is on the moon and why are the Earth’s greatest minds being sent there to serve time?

Pre-order link Get your copy now for 99¢:
Amazon US

The Moon Crossing: Troemel and SelbourneExcerpt:
Could the government really make someone disappear? The little voice in her head replied, ‘yes they could. Taking a step back into the alley, she watched Greg enter the coffee shop. “Okay. Do I trust his or not?” she muttered. “What if I just listen? Would it hurt to listen?

“Shit, I’m nutso standing in a dark alley talking to myself,” Susan said. Closing her eyes, she tried to consider her gut instinct. She didn’t know. At five minutes past, she raised her chin and opted to trust – for now.

Looking both ways, she crossed the street. She deliberately wore practical clothes, tennis shoes, blue jeans, and a tank top. Over the top, she wore a hooded sweatshirt. Seeing herself reflected in the glass door, she wondered if she dressed too casual. Too late to change now.

He sat in the back facing the door. A smile lit his face as soon as he saw her. Is he faking it?  It looks like a real smile.  He stood, sort of old fashioned but Susan liked it. He seems sincere. Feeling awkward for analysing his every expression, she approached the table. “Hi.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said.

“Me neither,” she slid into the booth. He sat opposite her as the waitress brought their coffee. “They have a good peach pie here.

“It’s really good today,” the waitress said

“Give us two pieces,” Greg said.

Waiting for the waitress to leave, Susan assessed him. She liked what she saw but this was not a date. “Did you find out more about your cousin,” she asked as she sipped her coffee

“A colleague of hers said she worked day and night on a project. It’s who my appointment was with yesterday,” he said. “I know how she gets. She has a puzzle, and she won’t stop until she solves it.”

“Do you think she got sent to the moon as well,” Susan reached out to touch his hand. It felt warm and strong.

“I don’t know,” he said. He gripped her hand. “They said a secured facility. The moon is for the worst of the worst… or so their website says.”

“The prisoners are only allowed visitors once a month,” she said. “I get they’re bad people but they still deserve to have visits. Do you know how much it costs to get to the moon?”

“You’d go,” Greg said. “I watched a few of the first launches.”

“They have the shuttle now,” Susan said. “I saw a video of a recent launch.”

“From their site,” Greg asked.

“No this was on the internet,” Susan said. “It was in one of the chat rooms.”

“You’re a bit of a computer geek,” Greg grinned.

She liked his smile, firm lips surrounding white teeth, a light in his eyes indicated laughter even though he hadn’t laughed yet. “A bit,” she said. “I tinker a bit with it.”

“If we believe our loved ones are innocent,” Greg said.

“We do,” Susan said.

“Then how were they both falsely accused and convicted of crimes they didn’t commit,” he asked.

“It’s more than that,” Susan said. “Not only were they convicted but they were sent to the worst prison. Why? How does it serve them? What could they have been working on to annoy someone so much they wanted them out of the picture? They timed it well.  I was out of the country.”

“Wait, so was I,” Greg interrupted.

“See, it’s no coincidence you and I, their closest relatives, were out of the country. That’s what we’re talking about isn’t it?”

Greg sat back and rubbed a hand through his hair. “What if it wasn’t they wanted them out of the picture but rather, they needed them on the moon for some purpose,” Greg asked.

“Why wouldn’t they just ask them to work for them or with them,” Susan countered.

“Maybe they did but they turned them down,” Greg leaned forward again gripping her hands.

Susan glanced at their hands. “This is crazy. You know what this sounds like?”

“We’re a couple of conspiracy theorists,” Greg shook his head.

She couldn’t look at him, staring at their hands she considered all they discussed. Could the government kidnap scientists?

“I… I’m staying at my brother’s house,” she said slowly. “I’ll have a look through his things.”

“Want help,” Greg asked.

She stared into his warm caramel eyes. Did she trust him? Was this too convenient? She hadn’t a clue how to help Micky, but could she rely on this man? With a deep breath, she said, “Sure.”

The waitress returned with two plates of pie. Greg asked, “I’m really sorry. Can we get those to go?’

“Sure,” she said. They rose and followed her to the counter.

Susan paid, she insisted on it. As they stepped out of the coffee shop, Susan saw a flash of light. Across the street, a black SUV parked in the line of mid-sized cars. It looked out of place. She couldn’t see the plates. Were they watching her, following her?

“Everything all right,” Greg asked.

“No, it’s not,” Susan said walking away from the street. “Have you ever felt like you were being followed?”

“Yeah,” he scanned the street. “More often recently.”

She stepped close to him, pulled him close to her. She brushed her lips across his. His arms slowly closed around her. “I think we’re being watched,” she murmured as she made it look like they flirted and had an assignation rather than plotting… whatever they were plotting.

Meet the authors:

Eileen TroemelUSA Today Bestseller Author Eileen Troemel writes action packed and emotionally powerful fantasy, scifi, romance. She’s versatile and writes in many genres.  She’ll try almost any genre if it means she can tell a good story.  In addition to her writing, she loves to read, crochet, and research genealogy. Her best days are spent with her family of three adult daughters and her husband or writing.  

Website: https://eileentroemel.com/
Twitter https://twitter.com/EileenTroemel
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/EileenTroemelAuthor/
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/eileentroemel/
LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/eileen-troemel-6667825b/
MeWe https://mewe.com/i/eileentroemel
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7868345.Eileen_Troemel

Jan SelbourneJan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired, Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live-in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

Website: https://nomadauthors.com/JanSelbourne/index.html
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/JanSelbourne
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14661584.Jan_Selbourne?from_search=true
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Jan-Selbourne/e/B0184OSZ6E/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/

New! Michael (Risking Love) by Callie Carmen

Michael by Callie Carmen

Michael is just released, which makes me both happy and sad. Happy because I love Callie’s writing style. Sad because this is the final installment in the Risking Love series. Welcome, Callie!


Thank you, Dee and Jan, for having me as a guest on your wonderful Nomad Author’s blog today. I’m excited about sharing with you all a bit of my latest novel, Michael (Book Six Risking Love).

In Michael, I write about two of the parties that Olivia had to attend during the holidays. One ended up being an uncomfortable situation for her. The other was a disaster. However, the two locations where the parties took part were lovely. I have included and excerpt from Michael for the one that took place at The Gandy Dancer Restaurant including photos.

Gandy Dancer

Blurb:
Olivia had spent enough time on memories of her ex-boyfriend’s abuse. She was going to put all of her efforts into her new business career. And try to convince her boss, Vice President Michael Evans, that the woman he’d been dating was nothing more than an opportunist and that she’d climb into bed with anyone that could get her to the top.

Michael, who lost his younger sister to an abusive relationship, was falling in love with Olivia. He kept his distance from her and waited patiently for a sign that she was ready for his love.

Michael is the sixth and last novel in the Risking Love series. The stories chart a group of friends through life and love. These steamy stories will have you laughing, crying, and your heart racing.

Buy link:
Kindle US

Excerpt:

The Gandy Dancer Restaurant
Olivia

Gandy Dancer DiningIf it wasn’t for Veronica, I would have been thrilled that we had just pulled up in front of the beautiful Michigan Central Depot, which was a historical architectural landmark from 1886. I had read that in 1970 they had spent a fortune to restore the gorgeous stone building and turn it into the elegant Gandy Dancer Restaurant.

I’d eaten here once on my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary. That day we were seated on the trackside, which had been exciting. The wall-to-wall windows allowed us to watch the passing trains just yards away from our seats. The food had been amazing, but the prices were way above my budget while I’d been saving money for a home. So I hadn’t returned until now.

Upon entering the restaurant, the concierge greeted us. Michael handed him our invitation.

“Very good, Sir. The cocktail portion of the evening is not yet over. It’s upstairs in the Mezzanine. They will serve dinner in The Wolverine Room in a half hour. I hope you both enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you. I’m sure we will,” I chirped, sounding more optimistic than I felt about the evening with the dragon lady.

Gandy Dancer DiningWe walked upstairs to the Mezzanine, where we were received by Mr. Dickinson. He was the host, and was the founding partner of one of the largest law firms in Detroit. Michael had explained on the way that their firm did business with us. I wasn’t just Michael’s date, I was also representing our corporation, which was enough to deal with. But there was the maneater and she was connected to Mr. Dickinson’s hip.

“Olive, it’s so good to see you again.” Dragon lady smiled.

I cringed.

“Where are my manners? You three stay here and chat, and I’ll get us all a drink,” Veronica volunteered.

Hmm, was she trying to look sweet and innocent to her new sugar daddy?

“Michael, are you still drinking rusty nails?” He nodded. “Olive, what can I get you?”

“It’s Olivia.” I smiled.

“Oh yes. How silly of me.” She smirked.

“I’d love a mojito. Thank you.” She walked off to get the drinks. Good riddance.

Bella and Joshua came over to chat. The men started talking about sports, which I usually enjoyed too, but I needed to talk with Bella before the dragon lady returned with the drinks.

“She started already with her Olive crap. Right in front of Michael,” I whispered.

“If she’s willing to be that blatant in front of him, she must have something really special planned to make you look bad or to make her look good. You need to watch your back, and I’ll do the same for you.” She squeezed my arm. “Here she comes.”

I thanked Veronica for the drink and took a big swig that left my drink half full.

Veronica gave me a toothy smile.

Don’t worry bitch, I can handle my alcohol. I lifted my glass towards her and mouthed cheers and took another swig. Long before we sat down my drink was gone. Michael wrapped my arm around his bent elbow and made sure I didn’t wobble again while we walked down the stairs from the Mezzanine to the dining room. It was sweet of him, but I really didn’t need the help. For some reason, I felt like I could fly down the stairs. Or maybe dance the night away. Better yet, I could pull Michael into the coat room so I could take advantage of him. I giggled to myself.

Gandy Dancer DiningWe stepped into the Wolverine dining room, and it took my breath away. The stone walls, numerous chandeliers, and stunning table settings were magnificent. I felt like I was attending a royal feast in a duke’s mansion. Veronica shuffled us up to the head table and had us sit boy girl, boy girl. She had Michael seated on her left and Mr. Dickinson on her right.

I softly groaned out loud, which was unlike me. Michael must have heard the groan because he took hold of my thigh, which I’d been bouncing, and gave it a squeeze. His touch made me feel a warm glow within, and for the moment I stopped bouncing my leg.

I didn’t want him to let go, but our starters arrived. He ordered crab cake, and I ordered crab encrusted scallops. I took my first bite, and it made my mouth sing in pleasure. I moaned.

Michael leaned over and whispered in my ear. “If you keep that up, I’ll have to excuse us and take you home with me.”

His words made me feel sensual and uninhibited. It was a marvelous feeling that sent tingles all over my body.

Michael by Callie CarmenThe Risking Love series:
Patrick
Nicholas
Joseph
Anthony
Joshua
Michael

The Risking Love series has repeating characters but each book is a standalone romance.

About Callie:
Callie CarmenCallie started in the book business as a bookstore manager, which was the perfect place for her since she was an avid reader. After two years, she moved to the corporate office as a buyer and eventually became a senior book buyer. This was a rewarding career that she loved.

Along the way, Callie became a stay-at-home mom but couldn’t give up working around books altogether. She volunteered to run the book fairs in her small farm town. At the same time, Callie started and ran A Child Oasis Company with the sole purpose of placing a small book library in the homes of all the needy children in the nearby city.

As her children became teens, Callie found she needed more in her personal life than the volunteer mom for the schools. She sat down at the computer and began to write. To see what she’s been up to go to Amazon link: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07BN5PXDF.

Should fiction writers talk about POLITICS?

When I was a younger reader, I certainly wondered why on earth fiction writers would talk about politics. This was exacerbated by the strong opinions of readers around me: fiction is supposed to help people escape from the world, so stop dragging irrelevant politics into it.

But then I started taking my own writing more seriously and realised, wow… actually, politics has A LOT TO DO WITH FICTION.

This post isn’t about whether the author’s morals and beliefs are valid in fictional stories. I want to talk about world-building. Specifically, how worldly mechanics and market forces help shape the setting of a story and drive the drama. Even in romance fiction, where the conflict is about how the MC and LI succeed or fail in answering the call of love, it’s stuff like politics, economics and social issues that offers fertile ground for interesting conflict to grow.

Simmer Down by Sarah SmithTake Sarah Smith’s Simmer Down as a contemporary example. This novel may not feature US economic policy on the page, and the author isn’t writing a political romance, but we can’t ignore the economic circumstances that spark this story—if Nikki Di Marco lets Callum steal her parking spot, her sales are likely to suffer, resulting in her making less income to support her family. In this way, Simmer Down explores the impact of capitalism on two individuals in a super hot, sexy and entertaining way.

Speculative fiction, by necessity, may include its fair share of politics, which naturally stems from authors having to create an “otherworldly” universe by extrapolating from the real world. Policy influences how people behave, decides how technology may be created and used, and deems what actions are acceptable when we want something we don’t have.

The effect is subtle in Pia Manning’s Star Brides Star Brides by Pia Manningseries, where xenopolitics incentivises the interspecies marriages that lead to romantic tension. Thus we see how humans and aliens might resolve differing ideologies within an intimate partnership. In my own work, It Starts With A Kiss, the romantic conflict occurs against the off-page backdrop of issues surrounding industry automation and government regulation of a UBI (universal basic income).

But then there are stories where you actually get to see characters doing politics. Stories like Frank Herbert’s Dune, A.R. Vagnetti’s Storm series, Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight universe (the Volturi), and James S.A. Corey’s The Expanse.

But let’s get back to present-day realism.

We all share this world. We are all connected. Sometimes we connect intentionally, but most of the time it happens by accident. Global events since 2020 highlighted quite profoundly how strong these connections are, even when we can’t see them.

Politics (governmental or otherwise) is the means by which we negotiate the influences and resources within our world. It’s in the air we breathe, the water we drink, it even governs the ground we walk on. Just try setting foot in a restricted area and you’ll get a first-hand lesson in how your society approaches “property ownership”.

If we’re lucky enough to be aligned with the dominant political and socioeconomic position where we live, we get to take it all for granted. That doesn’t mean we’re apolitical, it just means we don’t have to think about it all the time. We get to roll along all happy-go-lucky, pretending that politics doesn’t matter.

If we’re not that lucky, though, then we remain almost constantly aware and conscious of the fact that everything stems from the forces that decide what we must endure. We may never get the experience of not having to think about it.

That book on top of your TBR pile got there because certain worldly forces permitted it to. Maybe you live in a place where books like that are allowed to be printed and sold. The author must have been afforded the ability to sit and write it, then to have it published and distributed. And you were able to acquire it because someone somewhere paid good money for it to be at the right place at the right time. All of the forces that put that book in your hands were shaped by the negotiations in our shared world.

I daresay fiction writers must be aware of this, at least on some level, in order to write relatable and interesting stories. I don’t think fiction writers should necessarily talk about politics, not if they don’t want to. But there’s certainly no reason why they shouldn’t.

And, appreciating how worldly forces have enabled me to sit here and write this post, I can’t help but wonder—how can anyone talk about anything without ultimately being political? 🤔

This is a revised version of a post originally published on JLs blog.

About JL Peridot
JL Peridot writes love stories and more from her home beneath the southern skies. When not sweating over an incoherent WIP, she can be found playing videogames, eating meat pies, and arguing with her cats. Subscribe to JLs mailing list for banter, updates, teasers, and more.

 

Website: https://jlperidot.com

Blog: https://blog.jperidot.com

About Henry: A Novella

About Henry: A Novella by JL PeridotLet me tell you about Henry. I could get fired for this, but what the hell.

Julie was perfectly fine, admiring the rich American Henry Aston from afar. That is, until he asked her out to dinner. But there’s just one problem: CapriLuxe Perth has a strict policy against employees fraternising with the guests.

Sorry, two problems: Henry Aston’s married.

ABOUT HENRY: A NOVELLA presents JL Peridot’s hot contemporary erotica short story, originally published in the notorious CapriLuxe Chronicles anthology, and featured on The Good Bits website and podcast.

It also includes the follow-up story, ABOUT HER, where we discover what happened when the Astons got back from their road trip; what happened after a chance meeting in a cocktail bar on the other side of town; and what happened when Henry finally introduced Julie to his wife.

New Release! Monsoon Fever: A Multicultural Romance by Lisabet Sarai

Monsoon Fever by Lisabet SaraiWhy not enjoy the flesh that the gods have
given you?

When a charismatic Indian lawyer arrives at their remote Assamese tea plantation, he tempts a married couple with forbidden carnal delights.

In the early years of their marriage, Priscilla and Jonathan eagerly indulged their physical desires, but now that passion has dwindled. Childlessness and the horrors of the Great War have taken a toll on their relationship. Though Priscilla still aches for Jon’s touch, he seems preoccupied with settling his father’s affairs in India, so they can sell the plantation they’ve inherited and return to England.

Anil Kumar served as solicitor to Jon’s father. Arriving unannounced, drenched by a monsoon deluge, he enchants both Priscilla and Jon with his beauty, poise and wisdom. In separate incidents, each of them succumbs to Anil’s lustful attentions. Will the illicit cravings excited by the handsome Indian be the final stroke that destroys their marriage? Or the route to saving it?

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.

Buy Links:
Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0994WZP4B

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0994WZP4B

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1093764

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/monsoon-fever-lisabet-sarai/1139827649?ean=2940164960315

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/monsoon-fever-a-multicultural-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58554176-monsoon-fever

Excerpt:
She sank down into one of the chairs, staring blankly at the card, seeing its owner in her mind’s eye. Anil Kumar was a native, true, but clearly a gentleman. His clothing, even when wet, showed signs of custom tailoring. Perhaps ten years older than she and Jon, he had a regal bearing and a face both comely and intelligent. Heavy eyebrows arched over deep eyes the colour of teakwood. His high forehead was crowned by lush black hair, cut neatly but with a tendency to curl. His long, straight nose and square chin were balanced by a set of lips full enough to belong to a woman.

A handsome man, yes, but more than the sum of his parts. Even in their brief interaction, Priscilla had sensed something, some energy or life in him that made him doubly appealing. He exuded confidence but without a trace of arrogance. The English had learned the hard way to be wary of the natives. Nevertheless, Priscilla could not help trusting Anil Kumar.

She heard the squeak of the door, looked up and caught her breath. It was Kumar returning. He was dressed all in white, in loose cotton trousers and a gauzy kurta that bared his throat. A gold amulet hung around his neck. His skin seemed darker, his face more exotic. Priscilla was reminded of the statues of Krishna she and Jonathan had seen in Calcutta, on their way to the plantation. Her heartbeat surged. Wet heat gathered between her legs. Before, he had looked like a gentleman. Now, he seemed a god.

“Please forgive my state of undress, Mrs. Archer, but I’m afraid that these are the only garments I have with me that are not soaked through. Your maid has kindly taken my suit for cleaning. As soon as it is dry, I will dress myself more appropriately. Meanwhile, I hope that I do not offend your sensibilities.”

“Not at all,” Priscilla waved off the concern with a smile. He certainly affected her sensibilities, but she was far from offended. “We all have to muddle along during this infernal rainy season. It’s difficult to imagine being completely dry.”

“Ah, but the monsoon is a blessing from the Mother Goddess. Without it, all India would starve.”

“Yes, I’m sure that you are right. It’s just hard for me to imagine living with this for another three months.”

Anil leaned toward her, his face earnest. Priscilla caught a hint of sandalwood essence wafting from his warm skin. A wave of dizziness swept over her. “It must be difficult for you, being so far from your home. I think, though, that if you will allow yourself to do so, you will come to love India.”

Priscilla struggled to control her physical reactions, “Perhaps. Certainly, the rain is very beautiful. It softens the rough edges and makes everything seem dreamlike, insubstantial. Sometimes you can see the hills. Sometimes it’s as though they are not there.”

“Yes, exactly.”  His eyes closed for a moment, as though he were gazing at something unseen. His jet-black lashes were as lush as a woman’s. “The monsoon reveals the truth, that all is Maya, illusion. Our bodies, this world, pleasure and pain, it is all a dream of the gods.”

About Lisabet
Lisabet SaraiLisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, BookBub, BingeBooks and Twitter.

Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Charity Sunday: Warrior Canine Connection

Charity Sunday: Dee S. Knight

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. That’s it—that’s all you have to do. Your comment = my donation. Thanks for your help and your participation!


Mission Based Trauma Recovery

I recently heard about a new charity and I am featuring it this month. It’s called Warrior Canine Connections. “Warrior Canine Connection is a pioneering organization that utilizes a Mission Based Trauma Recovery (MBTR) model to help recovering Warriors reconnect with life, their families, their communities, and each other.” The program uses golden retrievers and Labrador retrievers for their longevity, strength, and temperament. One thing I like about the program is warriors train the dogs for service, and that connection—from puppyhood through adulthood—helps the warrior/trainer as much as it helps the eventual warrior/owner as he or she recovers from a stressful duty. Please visit their website for some amazing videos and graphics. This is truly a worthwhile organization!


No book excerpt this month. Thanks for joining me!

Author Dee S. Knight:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! Once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Author links:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

 

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<a href=”https://www.linkytools.com/wordpress_list.aspx?id=294166&amp;type=basic”>Click here</a>  to see the list of other authors participating in today’s blog hop! I hope you’ll visit them too, to find out about the charities they are supporting.