April 27, 2011

Rain Rain Go Away!

It's been raining off and on for days now. The temps are at least in the normal range, but come on. Do we really need to soak the ground again? Didn't we just go through this last year with the 100 year flood? Now, to me that means we shouldn't have another like it for 100 years, but the way things are looking we're heading in that direction.

Not to mention the tornadoes and high winds and hail and all kinds of other things flying around in the air. Poor KAM had a tree limb on her house yesterday. She got a call from a neighbor who told her there was a tree on her brand new, month old roof. Thank God when we got there is wasn't as bad as we thought. No damage to the roof and we got it pulled down, chopped up, hauled away and the gutters tacked back up for a mere $50 by a tree cutting service that just happened to be in the area taking care of other homes that were hit worse than hers. It's one of the few things that have been good for her the past two months where that house is concerned.

Mother Nature has been in a bad mood for a while so if anyone knows what to do to make her happy, please let me know.

April 22, 2011

NEW RELEASE! The Weaverfields Heir by David Bridger

When Kate Richards inherits a dilapidated English estate from her estranged grandfather, she finds herself thrust into a world full of hostile new family members, mysterious Romany tenants, and strange visions of "the net" - an invisible web that connects everything in the universe. Kate thinks she's losing her sanity, but the odd family stories and disturbing tales of locals convince her that something sinister is going on at Weaverfields, while the inescapable pull of the net draws her deeper into the secrets of her new home.

But with those secrets come danger, and an old evil that refuses to let go of its hold on the net - or on Weaverfields. The only person who seems to understand is Joe, a Romany street artist with his own ties to the land. Kate and Joe must master the net before the past intrudes on the present... in very ugly ways...

Read an excerpt and buy The Weaverfields Heir at Etopia Press.

April 20, 2011

NEW RELEASE! The Lost Soul by Carolyn Rosewood

The Last Soul
Carolyn Rosewood
Evernight Publishing
ISBN 978-1-926950-43-3
Heat Level 3
Be warned: light bondage and sex toys


Faina has been dead for one hundred and fifty years, but she's about to become human again. All she has to do is seduce Jace Blackmon,the most honest financier ever to grace the city of angels, into signing awayhis soul.

Jace Blackmon has fallen in love with his fantasy woman. But when he realizes she was tricked by a demon to bring about his ruin, including the revelation of a long-buried secret to the media, he must choose between his heart or life without her.


Faina donned a Betsey Johnson flowered dress and wedge sandals, then materialized a few blocks from where Jace worked. It felt so good to be outdoors. The warm air was soothing, the traffic noises and bustling crowds reminding her of New York City. Faina didn't often getnostalgic for her human life, but today she did. If she succeeded in this mission, she'd be human again. Warm weather, noisy crowds and city life would be her reality, not simply the realm in which she was allowed to work.

Unless Mastema had tricked her. No. She wouldn't think about that now. She had a job to do. She took her time, peering in shop windows and trying to look like just another California trust fund babe out for a stroll on a bright summer day. The fact nearly every man pounding the pavement tripped over his own two feet as she strolled past wasn't lost on her. She didn't have the baby face, long blonde curls, and legs up to there for nothing.

She avoided eye contact. It was enough to leave them with her scent, they'd have trouble getting it out of their head for weeks, but to look them in the eyes would be downright cruel. Even when she'd been alive all she'd had to do was turn her baby blues in a man's direction and he followed her around like a dogin heat. She'd made more money for Madame Lily during her first six months than most of her girls made over the course of two years.

As she made her way to the entrance of the 770 Wilshire Building, she caught a whiff of burned toast. She ducked into the nearest shop and pressed her nose to the plate glass window, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. She'd only seen Mastema appear once in human form. He'd looked ridiculous dressed in a long coat and cowboy hat on the streets of Aurora Nebraska, population four thousand two hundred and twenty-five as of last year. His bad-boy Western get-up would have been more appropriate for Arizona in the late nineteenth century.

Either Mastema hadn't been the demon she smelled or he'd already evaporated. The sidewalks were filled with six foot blondes and men who looked like they walked off the cover of GQ. Not a weird outfit or menacing swagger in sight.

"Help you, Miss? You need mani and pedi today? We have new summer colors look perfecton you."

Faina whirled around to face the ancient Vietnamese woman. She'd ducked into a nail salon. Her senses had been so focused on the burnt toast smell and Mastema's human form she hadn't noticed the acrid smell of nail polish.

"No, not today. I'm sorry. I've got to go."

Faina opened the door and strode to the parking garage entrance of the building. On the way a clock struck five. The smell of burnt toast wafted from a nearby taco stand. Had that been what she smelled? Tacos? She was jumping at shadows. That wasn't like her.

She made her way to Jace's sports car by visualizing it. As the flood of workers poured into the garage, she hoped Jace would stay calm when he saw her. She was taking a risk as there would be plenty of witnesses if he wigged out.

He was busy scrolling through messages on his phone as he sauntered to his car,and didn't see her until she stepped in front of him as he was about to open the door.

"Oh Jesus. Holy fu—" His warm brown eyes opened wide and he visibly swallowed. "How did you... you're real. Holy sh*t."

"Get in your car, Jace. People are staring. One of them looks like he's going to take a picture with his cell."

The lie snapped him out of his trance. He unlocked the doors and she slid into the passenger seat. "Start the car but don't move yet."

He stared straight ahead as the engine roared to life. Beads of sweat pooled at his hairline. She could hear his heart pounding. When she reached up to wipe his forehead he moaned. "It's all right, Jace. Just try to relax."

"I don't understand." His voice shook.

"You don't need to. Wait until the garage clears out a bit. Then we'll leave."

"I...I have a dinner date. A family friend. I have to go. I don't want to but… I… I should."

"Do you want me to leave?"

He looked into her eyes with the most desperate longing she'd ever seen on a human face. A flash of apprehension shivered down her spine, unbalancing her. She was going to hurt him. Badly. He'd lose everything. His home, the Foundation, his dinner date, maybe even this fancy sports car. And some kid wouldn't have a place to sleep on a cold, winter night, or a youth group to keep him off the streets.

The men she brought to Mastema were bad-to-the-bone to begin with. They just needed a little help to push them in the right direction. The inevitable direction, as he liked to call it. But Jace Blackmon was a good guy.

Then why does Apollyon want him? But what if he didn't want Jace? What if Jahi was right and Mastema had forged the contract?

"Faina." His whisper pulled her back to the present. Until she had proof to the contrary, it was Jace's soul or her eternal torment as one of Mastema's sex slaves. This was self-preservation. Nothing more.

Shelooked into his eyes and smiled "Yes, Jace?"

"Please don't leave, Faina."

April 14, 2011


Finally back at work today after being sick with strep throat all week. Let me just say "NO FUN!!!" My throat was on fire all day Monday & I had a temp of 101 - at work. It hurt to breath let alone talk, which is not a good thing since my job consists of answering phones and selling advertising. That requires both breathing & talking.

So, after work, I stopped at the walk-in clinic b/c I knew something was wrong. I never feel like that. And sure enough, strep. I hightailed myself home, crawled in bed (away from the grandbabies b/c that would have been a disaster) and stayed there until yesterday afternoon. I'm on antibiotics & ibuprofen and am feeling much better today although I wish I could have taken another day off.

At least it didn't happen this weekend to make me miss my writer's group or the Southern Women's Show. I would have been seriously bummed.

April 06, 2011

I Wish I Were Me

Ok. I don't know where this came from this morning, but here's a little poem I whipped up.

I wish I were me and only me
The only me I want to be
But I’m not me as you can see
I can’t be only me
I must be who you want me to be
You want me to be another me
Another me I try hard to be
I wish I were me and only me