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THE RAWLEY FAMILY ROMANCES by OLIVIA HARDIN

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From USA Today Bestselling Author Olivia Hardin, for the first time ever, three Rawley Family Romances plus a bonus short all in one collection… and it’s just 99cents for a short time!

Start the continuing saga of love, life, family & friends…

All for Hope

Sometimes the safest distance between two hearts is no distance at all…

Kidnapping a baby wasn’t something Hope ever dreamed she would do. But she’s been burned by the legal system before, so when the court places her friend’s child into the custody of an abuser, she takes matters into her own hands. She steals the baby and fakes her death, hoping to make a clean getaway. She planned every detail, except one.

Her high school sweetheart and best friend, who left her years before, sees her at a gas station. Hope thinks all is lost, until he offers to help them.

Brennan had always been the love of Hope’s life, but he never wanted to be. She knows she cannot depend on him for long. However, as each day passes, it becomes painfully obvious that she is in way over her head. She goes with him, intending to keep him always an arm’s length away to protect her heart. But being on the run together sparks the old flames that once burned between Brennan and Hope.

Families, friends, and lovers must band together to save an innocent baby and a daring woman or both of their lives will be destroyed.  Together, they’ll do it all for Hope.

Justice for All

Kay Rawley has plans. She might be the second child of an earl, but she wants a life away from her father’s estate in New Durma. She wants a life apart from her family’s name. Becoming a lawyer was a bright, shiny object she just couldn’t resist grabbing. Her classes are complete, and all she has to do is pass the bar to get permanent employment at the Dallas law firm where she’s been interning for the past year.

Kay’s been on Audrick Van Buren’s radar since the day she walked into his classroom two years ago. That admiration only grew when she came to work for his firm. But if there’s anything he recognizes, it’s a woman who’s driven–and Kay is definitely one. It’s all he can do to keep his distance and allow her the chance to come into her own. What Van doesn’t know is that someone else is watching Kay, too, and if he doesn’t step between them, that person might not only derail her career but threaten her very life.

Things aren’t always what they seem, and Kay’s about to learn that the best laid plans are so much better when they go astray…

All for Family

Wedding bells will soon be ringing in the Rawley family, but gearing up for Van and Kay’s nuptials revives old insecurities for Kay’s sister-in-law Meg. When she learns that her ex-husband is asking for her from his hospital bed, Meg must confront the painful memories of her past.

Family is everything for Jeremy Rawley. Most important is the one he and Meg created together. But their beginning was tangled in memories he wishes his wife could forget for good. A call from her past brings them back to a place he thought they’d never have to be again.

Forgiveness may be the key, but the first step is finding the locked heart that needs it…

Plus, get All for a Little Christmas

Former police officer Robert Guillory’s life has changed since he arrested Hope Rawley for kidnapping.  Only his closest friends knows about his last case before leaving the force.  Eva Lipton is one of those close friends, but she’s been trying to get even closer ever since his retirement.  When the chance to work with him on a church theft drops into her lap, she doesn’t hesitate to call on him. Can a little holiday miracle give Eva the Christmas gift she’s been hoping for?

Amazon  | iBooks  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Kobo | Other retailers

About the Author

When Olivia Hardin began having strange movie-like dreams in her teens, she had no choice but to begin putting them to paper. Before long the writing bug had her and she knew she wanted to be a published author. Several rejections plus a little bit of life later, and she was temporarily “cured” of the urge to write. That is until she met a group of talented and fabulous writers who gave her the direction and encouragement she needed to get lost in the words again.

Olivia’s attended three different universities over the years and toyed with majors in Computer Technology, English, History and Geology. Then one day she heard the term road scholar and she knew that was what she wanted to be. Now she “studies” anything and everything just for the joy of learning. She’s also an insatiable crafter who only completes about 1 out of 5 projects, a jogger who hates to run, and she’s sometimes accused of being artistic.

A native Texas girl, Olivia lives in the beautiful Lone Star state with her husband, Danny and their puppy, Bonnie.

Get a free gift just for signing up for Olivia’s Newsletter !

Follow Olivia:

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And if you love her books, join Team OH!

Dracula’s Mistress by Carmen Stefanescu a Paranormal historical/light romance

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Publisher – City Lights Press
From the day that the powerful, brave and merciless
Vlad III Basarab, a descendant of the Draculesti family—better known to most
people as the infamous vampire Dracula—ascends the throne, he knows only
battles, betrayal and intrigue.
Evil grips the town of Targoviste, capital residence
of Walachia. The secrets behind the stone walls of the palace are as dark and
violent as a winter’s night, as terrifying as the prince’s deeds. Dead bodies,
drained of blood and missing their little finger keep appearing in the streets
at night.
Lovely, smart, determined, Angela Oltenescu ignores
all the aggressive rumors and her mother’s warning regarding Vlad. Will she
suffer the consequences of falling in love with a man nicknamed Dracula by his
enemies—an infamous creature of the night?
Rich, sly, treacherous,  Marin Craioveanu, a powerful landlord, craves
the same woman loved by Vlad. Marin’s hatred toward the prince will make him an
ally to Handsome Radu, Vlad’s brother and Sultan’s friend, ready to sell the
country to the Ottomans to get rid of his rival.
Dracula’s Mistress will awe legions of fans of Gothic
literature, paranormal and historical fiction.

Dracula’s Mistress

Angela  smiled with fond indulgence and looked at her father. “Prepare for mother’s. . .” She stopped as the words passed her lips, looked over her father’s shoulder, and started violently. The image behind her father made her words freeze on her lips. A sickening sense of dread overpowered her.
The pale light of the moon fell on a man’s face. A man dressed in torn clothes.
Some ragged ends of silken thread were still attached to his arms, stretched
towards them in begging.
His face, all covered in blood. His eyes were closed. His bluish lips mumbled
something Angela couldn’t clearly understand. Slurred words reached her. She
thought she heard, “Candle. . . candle. . . pleaaaase. . .” A sickening odor
reached Angela’s nostrils. Slowly, the closed eyelids opened revealing two
empty sockets instead of eyes.
A low moan of horror escaped her.
“What? What’s wrong?” Grigore asked.
But before he turned his head to see what triggered Angela’s reaction the
apparition melted into the darkness.
Angela staggered a little, and then found her balance.
“Nothing,” she answered in a shaken voice. “I thought . . . Nothing, Father.” She pushed the horrible apparition from her mind. Perhaps all the stories about the souls of the young noblemen killed so cruelly here were not just stories.
Grigore shook his head and shrugged. Then reaching out his hand, he helped her climb into the carriage. She was barely able to move as she trembled from head to foot. She shrank back on the bear skin spread inside.
Grigore sat facing her, but looked absorbed by the things that had happened that night.
The neighing of the horses sounded strange to her ears. The sound of a tree branch scraping the roof of the carriage sent Angela’s heart into her mouth.
She leaned forward until her nose was touching the glass of the carriage window. Outside, on the side of the road, she glimpsed again the silhouette of the
horrible man, dressed in tattered clothes. She peered into the darkness to see
better. There was no doubt. The same specter. With begging hands stretched
towards her. She covered her mouth with her hand to suppress a cry. And then
she shook her head and passed a hand over her eyes and dared to look out again.
There was nobody in sight. A dark cloud had settled over the moon. All that met her eyes was the deep darkness. Her heart hammered as she gripped her fan harder, almost crushing the fragile spikes. Sweat collected at the base of her neck
despite the cool evening. With a trembling hand, she covered the window of the
carriage with the small curtain and leaned back on the carriage pillow. To
fight the panic yammering in her head, Angela forced Vlad’s face back into her
mind.
All through the rest of the journey home, the thought of Vlad’s enthralling smile
and dark, intent eyes never left her.
https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=dp_byline_sr_ebooks_1?ie=UTF8&text=Carmen+Stefanescu&search-alias=digital-text&field-author=Carmen+Stefanescu&sort=relevancerankCarmen Stefanescu
resides in Romania, the native country of the infamous vampire  Count Dracula  where, for about 50 years of communist dictatorship, just speaking about God, faith, reincarnation or paranormal phenomena could have led someone to great trouble – the psychiatric hospital if
not to prison.
High-school teacher of English and German in her native country, and mother of two daughters, Carmen Stefanescu survived the grim years of oppression  by escaping in a parallel world, that of the books. Reading was, is and will always be her greatest hobby.
She has dreamed since childhood to become a writer, but many of the things she
wrote remained just drawer projects. The fall of the Ceausescu’s regime in 1989, and the opening of the country to the world meant a new beginning for her. She started publishing. Poems first, and then prose. Both in English.
She likes to blend genres and thus she writes paranormal stories with a smidgen of mystery, history and romance. The reader will find suspense, dark themes, adventure, danger as well as sweet revenge. She calls her stories  “gothic” romance. Her writing focuses on rebirth, past life regression, karmic retribution.
 
               Carmen joined the volunteer staff at Marketing For Romance Writers Author blog and is the coordinator of #Thursday13 posts.

Loose Dog? Don’t chase! Stop, Drop and Lie Down

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Source: Loose Dog? Don’t chase! Stop, Drop and Lie Down

ALL WHO WANDER ARE LOST

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ALL WHO WANDER ARE LOST

Icarus Fell series, book 2

by Bruce Blake

Continue reading “ALL WHO WANDER ARE LOST” →

Smorgasbord Book Promotion – Air Your Reviews – Colleen Chesebro, M.C.V. Egan and D.G. Kaye

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Source: Smorgasbord Book Promotion – Air Your Reviews – Colleen Chesebro, M.C.V. Egan and D.G. Kaye

CHASE ME by SHARON KLEVE

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Quirky,
Private Investigator, Sage McGuire, solves missing person cases. Sergeant
Carter Morgan of the Portland Police Department solves violet crimes.
Sage McGuire has a great job she loves. All
that changes in the blink of an eye when her long-time boss, Mr. Smithfield,
has an accident involving an over-sized rubber band. Mr. Smithfield’s
semi-worthless son, Daniel, takes over Smithfield Laboratories and Sage
rethinks her career choice.

 

Sergeant Carter Morgan of the Portland Police Department solves
violent crimes and sexy pinecone scent
and black leather pants rev Sage’s engine.

 

 Sage’s wild spirit, crazy red hair, and sense
of humor take Carter for the ride of his life.

Available here:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble
iTunes
KOBO
Scribd
Excerpt:

 

Bridget
leaned toward me and nodded in that direction. “He’s been sitting by himself
for a while. A dance with that fine man could take your mind off just about
anything.”

 

Ophelia
winked. “You should give him a try.”

 

“You think?” We laughed until we
about peed our pants. I noticed he was watching us with a grin that spread
across his sexy face. “Oh shit. I think he heard us.”

 

“Good. You deserve a little fun after
the week you’ve had,” Bridget insisted.

 

“Well, I’ve seen my share of gorgeous
men, but that guy is smok’n hot.” I looked heavenward and giggled.

 

“Oh boy, is he ever,” Bridget and
Ophelia said in unison and fanned their faces.

 

“I’m going to give him my, ‘you can buy me a drink’ look and see
what he does.”

 

All of a sudden Bridget rolled her
eyes toward the bar. “Holy moly, he’s coming this way. That worked fast. I
should try that maneuver,” Bridget whispered.

 

“Me too.” Ophelia got out a pen and
small notepad from her purse and wrote down what I had done and then tucked her
notes into her purse.

 

Bridget and I stared at her. Her face
turned crimson.

 

“We always come up with great ideas
over margaritas, but I can never remember what they are in the morning. From
now on, I’m writing them down. Hopefully they’ll make sense in the morning.”

 

 

Sharon Kleve’s Bio:

Sharon
Kleve was born and raised in Washington and currently lives on the Olympic
Peninsula with her husband.

 

 

Sharon
is a multi-published author of contemporary romance. She loves romance. She
loves reading romance, living romance, and especially loves writing about
romance. She gets no greater feeling than watching her characters come alive in
each other’s arms. Most of all, she loves giving her characters the happily
ever after they deserve—with a few bumps and bruises along the way.

 

One
of her favorite things to do is pick up a new book and sink into the story,
immersing herself in the emotions between the characters. She hopes to inspire
her readers the same way her favorite authors have inspired her.

 

When
not writing, she can usually be found either curled up in her recliner with her
cat and a good book, or in the kitchen baking sourdough bread or bagels.

 

A BOY FROM THE STREETS by Maria Gibbs

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A BOY FROM THE STREETS       by Maria Gibbs

Genre: Urban Drama


Two babies abandoned at birth—one grows up in a life of privilege, the other in poverty.

On the 12th of September, 1981, twin boys are born in a Brasilian hospital and left to their fate as orphans. Jose is adopted by a couple who takes him to England, but the other isn’t so lucky. Pedro ends up on the streets of Rio, left to fend for himself in a harsh and unforgiving world.

Love and betrayal.

Twelve years later Jose’s family returns to Brasil, where he learns the truth about his adoption and his twin. Thinking his adoptive parents no longer want him, he runs away to find his brother. What follows will shake Jose to the core and shape the rest of his life—if he can survive.

Murder.

Jose isn’t the only one whose life will change. Pedro is offered an opportunity beyond any of his wildest dreams, but to keep it will mean the betrayal of someone he loves. This proves to be a far greater challenge than he anticipated when the orphan finds himself suddenly surrounded by family who, unfortunately, don’t all have good intentions.

Hopes and dreams.

A Boy from the Streets will tug at your heart-strings and have you rooting for the little guy as you follow the twists and turns this multi-continental tale takes.

“Fernando, we must take them both, we cannot separate twins.”

“Christina, you’re too soft, we can’t bring up two children. You’re not strong enough to cope with the needs of twins. Your constitution is weak. It would be unfair to all of us.”

“I know my health is delicate, Fernando, and I will always regret that I can’t carry your baby to term inside me, but I know I can love and care for these twins. We can afford to hire help…” She trailed off when she saw the determined jut of his chin, the expression that brooked no further argument. Christina decided to try one last tug at his conscience anyway. “If we leave one behind, he might end up on the streets, an urchin living in squalor and fighting to survive… if he even makes it past babyhood.”

“Christina, your abundance of love does you credit, but I have no doubts the other boy will be adopted also. The only thing left to do now is to choose which one you would like?”

Christina’s heart sank as she looked at the two bundles in front of her. He was asking her to choose one, like picking out a pair of shoes from the rows on display in a shop. One stirred and let out a howl, disturbing his twin. It was almost as though he were alert to the inherent danger in this situation and was warning his brother.

Christina reached out a hand to each of them, touching their delicate tiny fingers and marvelling at how small, how fragile they were. Both lay quietly now, staring up at her with eyes as yet unable to focus. The boy who had been woken by his brother curled his tiny digits around her finger. In that moment she knew. He was asking her for help. The other twin would have the strength and tenacity to face whatever life threw at him. Christina couldn’t think about that, now that the decision was made. There was no hope of changing Fernando’s mind.

Without a further glance to the brother, she scooped up her new baby, cradling his floppy head and bringing him close to her chest so that he could feel her heart beat and know he was safe. She started to walk away with Fernando’s supportive hand between her shoulder blades. The baby in her arms let out a whimpering cry, and his twin, who still lay in the cot, responded with a heart-breaking howl which tore at her heartstrings and caused Christina to pause her flight. Fernando’s hand applied gentle pressure while she lifted one leaden foot in front of the other. A silent tear fell from her face onto the baby in her arms. She muttered a quick prayer for his twin.

“All that’s left now is to fill in the paperwork and the boy is ours.” Fernando’s handsome face broke into a smile. He reached out and touched the silent baby in his wife’s arms.

“You are to be our son,” he crooned. “We must think of a fitting name to honour your new status in the Sanchez family.”

“Jose, after your father.” Christina dimpled as Fernando rewarded her with a winning smile then pulled her and their new baby into his arms before placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

I’m a self-published author who released her first novelette in January 2015 ‘As Dreams are Made on’ which was closely followed by my second one in February of the same year ‘A Lifetime or a Season.’

In 2016 I released ‘The Storm Creature’ after writing it for an anthology.

2017 will see the release of a novel which I am excited about ‘A boy from the Streets.’ During that time, I have also been working on a number of other WIP’s which are in the pipeline. I don’t fit into any neat genres where my writing is concerned, I am a ‘pantser’ and write anything that comes into my head. So my books range from thrillers, to romance, from paranormal, time slip to contemporary women’s fiction.

I started reading as soon as I was able to and followed on by writing soon after. My biggest influence as a child was Enid Blyton who taught me that books were an escape to new and exciting worlds. I love reading books from a wide spectrum of genres, if the cover attracts me and the blurb stacks up then I want to read the book. When I’m not reading or writing, or doing my full-time job I enjoy travelling, crafting, horse-riding and riding my motorbike.

THE KRONICLES OF KORTHLUNDIA series by Jamie Marchant

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THE KRONICLES OF KORTHLUNDIA series
Books 1-3
by Jamie Marchant
Genre: Epic Fantasy
The crown princess Samantha fears she’s mad; no one but she sees colors glowing around people. The peasant Robrek Angusstamm believes he’s a demon; animals speak to him, and his healing powers far outstrip those of his village’s priests. Despite their fears, their combined powers make them the goddess’s choice to rule the kingdom of Korthlundia. Samantha’s ability enables her to discern a person’s character through their multi-colored aura, and Robrek’s makes him the strongest healer the kingdom has seen in centuries. But their gifts also endanger their lives. Royals scheme to usurp the throne by marrying or killing Samantha, and priests plot to burn Robrek at the stake. Robrek escapes the priests only to be captured by Samantha’s arch-enemy, Duke Argblutal; Argblutal intends to force the princess to marry him by exploiting Robrek’s powers. To save their own lives and stop the realm from sinking into civil war, Robrek and Samantha must consolidate their powers and unite the people behind them.

The Princess Samantha sat at her dressing table and glowered at her reflection as her maids dressed her hair. She detested balls and loathed the hundreds of suitors who flocked around her, spouting empty flattery: “I have never seen a lovelier flower, Your Highness!” or “Your eyes rival the brilliance of the stars, Your Highness!” If I hear that one again, I’ll vomit. It wouldn’t be quite so bad if even one of them meant it. Sometimes she wished . . . . She pushed the thought away. She was the heir to the throne. She couldn’t expect romance.
“Let us be painting your face tonight, Your Highness!” Ardra begged, in her north Korthian accent. Samantha’s maid was as small and slight as the princess herself and had hair so blonde it was almost white.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Malvina chimed in. “Lady Shela’s maids said just yesterday we couldn’t possibly know our business ’cause you never wear paint.” Malvina, more of a typical Korthlundian woman, was tall and broad and not nearly as pretty as Ardra.
“Lady Shela,” Samantha snorted in disgust. Shela wore so much paint she resembled some ghastly sea creature. Samantha knew she wasn’t pretty, but she was fond of the freckles that speckled her nose and thought the emerald green brilliance of her gown set off her white skin and auburn hair beautifully. Besides being appallingly uncomfortable, paint would absolutely spoil the effect. The princess gestured toward the huge portrait that covered one wall of her bedchamber. “Do you think Danu wore paint?”
Malvina shrugged. “The Princess Danu was said to be a powerful sorceress, Your Highness. She probably didn’t need to wear paint to attract men.”
Samantha laughed bitterly, as she thought of the army of men waiting below. “I wish not wearing paint was all it took to scare them off. They say Danu never married, and see how happy she is.”
Samantha yearned for Danu’s freedom. The long-dead princess was laughing as she galloped across the fields. Danu’s auburn hair flew out behind her in the wind. The stars on the forehead and chest of her horse shone against its gorgeous coat. Samantha loved this painting, which was just as well because it was bolted to the wall and couldn’t be removed without tearing her chambers apart. She’d decorated the rest of her bedroom to match. Tapestries of horses covered the walls. Her dressing table, armoire, and large four-poster bed had horses carved into the woodwork. A quilt, embroidered with horses and stars, was spread over the bed. The mantle over her fireplace sported figurines of horses in gold, silver, jade, crystal, and precious stones. Every new ambassador added to her collection.
“Your Highness, you’ll be having to marry one of them eventually,” Ardra persisted. “The king won’t be letting you hold out forever. You are seventeen, after all. Your mother was only thirteen when she married the king.”
“You needn’t remind me, Ardra.” Samantha picked up her silver-backed brush from the dressing table. The gift from the Neaserian ambassador was inlaid with an amber Horsetad; diamonds marked the stars at its forehead and chest. She fingered it lovingly. “Do you think it’s true Danu rode a Horsetad?”
“So the bards sing of her,” Ardra said.
Malvina made an impatient noise in her throat. “And they also sing her kiss turned suitors into toads! You don’t really believe such nonsense, do you, Your Highness? Nobody can tame a Horsetad.”
“No, I suppose not,” the princess sighed wistfully, then smiled at the toads that hopped around the feet of Danu’s horse. How I wish my kiss could do that!


The Crown Princess Samantha and Sir Robrek struggle to solidify their rule in the aftermath of the king’s murder and Duke Argblutal’s attempt to usurp the throne. They are thwarted at every turn by those who seek power for themselves and desire to prevent their marriage. Just when they think their problems are solved, a deadly curse begins to spread throughout Korthlundia and Samantha becomes pregnant. Samantha must fight off priests, enemies, and her closest advisors while Robrek discovers the reason the goddess chose him as king, to defeat the Soul Stone, a stone capable of sucking the soul out of its victims, which threatens to obliterate all life in the joined kingdoms. Their archenemy, the Bard Alvabane, awakens the Soul Stone and plans to use its power to reclaim Korthlundia for her people (a people driven out over a thousand years ago by the hero Armunn). Armunn had to sacrifice his life and soul to contain the Soul Stone. Will Robrek have to do the same? Will the young couple have only a few short months to love each other?

At bedtime, Alvabane sat at her dressing table brushing her long hair. It had once been a bright, rich red, but it had dulled with age and was now mostly grey with only a few strands of color to remind her of what once had been. It seemed a metaphor for her life—small flashes of color to remind her of her once bright purpose.
One of those flashes, Erick, set her nightly goblet of fortified wine next to her hand. She needed the strong alcohol to dull the pain of her joints so she could sleep. Erick had served her for ten years. When her former servant had died, he’d been sent by her people, despite the fact that she’d only been a disappointment to them.
She turned to thank him, but the words died on her lips as she saw the reproach in his eyes. Alvabane turned back to her mirror. Tonight was the night of the new moon. She should have been preparing to perform the rites of the dark gods, not preparing for bed. “They have forgotten us,” Alvabane said. “The Soul Stone does not live.”
In the mirror, she saw Erick’s eyes narrow. He was not yet twenty and still had the optimism of youth. He still believed the Stone would come to life again when the gods willed it. He believed it would again be the weapon it had once been. Created in the far past by magic which had since been lost, it had been used by her people to protect themselves from the barbarians that now ran free over Korth and Lundia.
“I will perform the rites next month,” she promised, but so had she promised last month and the month before that. The stairs to the bottom of the East Tower were agony to her knees. Erick made a mewing sound, reminding her what he’d sacrificed to serve her and the dark gods. She herself had cut his tongue from his mouth when he came to her as a ten-year-old child. He had surrendered it stoically. Only the Bards were allowed to sing the rites of the gods. All others who heard them had to be rendered mute so they couldn’t repeat music not meant for their tongues.
“Do you think you have sacrificed more than I?” She turned to face him. “I submitted to the brutish duke’s bed for years. I gave birth to a child of rape. All so I could remain near the Stone. I performed the rites faithfully every new moon for decades. And for what, I ask you? The power of the Stone remains trapped behind the shield the demon Armunn created from his own soul. That shield can’t be destroyed. I have dedicated my life to trying, but it is impossible. The Soul Stone won’t live again!”
Erick mewed again and looked toward the tapestry on the wall. It showed the map of the desert of Sehra, to the south of Korthlundia, where her people had lived in exile since Armunn and his hordes had trapped the Stone and then driven them from their homeland. Blinking back tears of despair, she turned from him. “Do you think I have forgotten? Every generation fewer of our children are born. Only by returning to the land of our birthright can we be strong again.”
She got up and went to the tapestry, touching it lovingly. “Do you not understand? The dark gods have found me unworthy to be their messenger. I once thought I was the child of the prophecy, the one who would drive the descendants of Armunn’s hordes back across the mountains into Korth and reclaim the land they call Lundia as our own. But I was wrong. I’m an unprofitable servant, an unfit vessel.”

The Ghost is going to hell. Not even the goddess can forgive his sins: assassin, oath-breaker, traitor (an affair with the queen earned him that title). No one can ever learn the princess is his daughter. To keep this secret, he flees to the land that turned him from a simple stable groom into an infamous killer.
His mission now? To find evildoers and take them to hell with him. But when an impulsive act of heroism saddles him with a damsel who refuses to be distressed, her resilience forces him to questions why he really ran from his daughter. 

The Ghost knelt at Ares’s feet, where the stench of blood was nearly overpowering. The altar was stained with it, and the bowl at the god’s feet was full from a fresh sacrifice. The power present in this place was undeniable—dark and forbidding, far from the peace and serenity in Sulis’s temples. But he was no longer worthy of Sulis’s blessing. The Ghost drew his dagger, held his left forearm over the sacrificial bowl, and sliced a new cut alongside his numerous scars. As he bled into the bowl, he felt the magic of the place coalesce around him. His blood sizzled as it hit the bowl, and the wound on his arm healed instantly, signaling that The Ghost truly belonged to the Saloynan god.
A door opened behind him, he stood and faced the high priest. Zotico was completely bald and looked no older than he had when The Ghost had first met him ten long years ago. He had small, beady eyes and a typical Saloynan narrow nose. “Pandaros! How wonderful!” the priest beamed, calling The Ghost a name he’d decided he must take up again. He could no longer be either “Ahearn” and “Darhour”; they were both dead. “Rumors said you were no longer among the living. Come in, come in.” Zotico gestured toward the doorway. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”
Zotico’s enthusiasm seemed excessive even for him. Warily, The Ghost followed Zotico down the corridor to the high priest’s office. It was large, the walls covered with instruments of war—swords, shields, battle axes, and plaques ornamented with what looked suspiciously like human ears. The ears were new. Zotico caught The Ghost looking at them and swept his hand over a plaque that contained five ears nailed side by side. “Do you like the new decor? Sacrifices, all of them. I had them moved from our private sanctuary so I could better remember the devotion demanded by the god I serve.”
Zotico may not appear to age, but his ghoulishness grew with each passing year. The Ghost carefully schooled his features to avoid betraying any sign of revulsion.
In the center of the office was a large desk with one chair behind it and two large, comfortable chairs facing it. Zotico gestured The Ghost into one of the facing chairs. The Ghost sat, and the high priest offered him a glass of oenomel, a sweet mixture of honey and wine. Zotico poured himself a glass from the same pitcher and sat behind the desk. “Pandaros, my friend. Why have you neglected your obligations to Ares?”
The Ghost waited for Zotico to take a sip of his drink, then took one of his own. It was cloying in its sweetness. “I’ve been distracted.”
Zotico smiled sadly. “A true tragedy. There’s no one better with a blade.” The priest mimed drawing a knife across his own throat. “I’ve had acolytes scouring the city more than once looking for you, but I gave up years ago when not the slightest sign of your whereabouts could be found. Tell me, my son, where have you been?”
“Away.” The Ghost had no intention of ever letting Zotico learn anything about Samantha, who was both his daughter and his queen. Because of his careful disguise, Zotico believed The Ghost was a Saloynan.
Zotico laughed. “Long have I wished for the power of Delphi to penetrate your secrets. Is there a person in the world who knows even half of them?” Zotico looked expectantly at him, but The Ghost didn’t answer. “I see my curiosity shall have to be contained. Ares is a harsh master and not attentive to trifles. Still, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you have now returned to his fold. His temple has truly felt your absence.”
The Ghost grunted, “Do you have a job for me?”
Zotico’s eyes gleamed. “Do I ever! I’d nearly despaired of finding a capable assassin, but your fortunate arrival proves that Ares will never fail those who serve his name.”
“Who do you want dead?”
“I think it would be best explained by the one in need of Ares’s assistance, but I assure you it is your sort of kill. May I tell the client you’ll meet?”
The Ghost nodded.
Zotico’s entire body relaxed. “Good, good. The client would prefer not to be seen here. I’ve an arrangement with the high priestess of Aphrodite. The two gods were lovers, after all. Enter the goddess’s temple tomorrow morning and choose the acolyte wearing the pendant of a vulture.” Zotico smiled broadly. “Pandaros, my friend, it is a great day for you to have returned.”
“You are not my friend.” The Ghost left with Zotico’s laughter ringing in his ears.
Jamie began writing stories about the man from Mars when she was six, and she never remembers wanting to be anything other than a writer. Everyone told her she needed a back up plan, so she pursued a Ph.D. in American literature, which she received in 1998. She started teaching writing and literature at Auburn University. One day in the midst of writing a piece of literary criticism, she realized she’d put her true passion on the backburner and neglected her muse. The literary article went in the trash, and she began the book that was to become The Goddess’s Choice, which was published in April 2012. Her other novels include The Soul Stone and The Ghost in Exile. In addition, she has published a novella, Demons in the Big Easy, and a collection of short stories, Blood Cursed and Other Tales of the Fantastic. Her short fiction has also appeared in the anthologies–Urban Fantasy and Of Dragons & Magic: Tales of the Lost Worlds—and in Bards & Sages, The World of Myth, A Writer’s Haven, and Short-story.me. She claims she writes about the fantastic . . . and the tortured soul. Her poor characters have hard lives. She lives in Auburn, Alabama, with her husband and four cats, which (or so she’s been told) officially makes her a cat lady. She still teaches writing and literature at Auburn University. She is the mother of a grown son.

MAY 21st, 2017 ~ I ❤ BOOKS ~ Boca Raton, Florida

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Release Day!! Stoking the Flames is LIVE!

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