Wednesday, 11 July 2018

Nightfall: A #Romance #Novel by TK Lawyer




TK Lawyer has always had an interest in the strange and unusual and she’s a romantic by heart.

She writes passion-filled paranormal romance with Angels and Wolf Shifters- weaving tales of alpha males willing to do anything for the one feisty, curvaceous, strong-willed woman who has won their heart. Her alpha males will go to any length to please their mate, in and out of the bed.

She invites you to enter her world and be entertained. After all, she writes for you.

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Tamara’s spicy scent thrills, seduces, and weakens him like no other. She is his and he wants her. Unfortunately, she is done with men. Tamara’s been burned too many times in the past and she’s not looking for a relationship…..ever. But when she finds a stray dog on her doorstep she decides she wants a relationship with a male, after all- that of pet and pet owner.

Josh is not a dog and he has no interest in staying her pet. He has one burning desire- Tamara- in his bed, nightly and permanently. He will stop at nothing to convince Tamara they are better together and that he needs her, forever.

Their paths are intertwined and their future is inevitable but will Tamara allow Josh to love, cherish and protect her? Or will she say goodbye to the amazing, dedicated man whose loyalty and sweet promises could shatter her walls completely and consume her with desire?

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Keep reading for an excerpt:


He considered the worst part about switching between a wolf and a human—having no clothes to change into.

If Tamara was around and she welcomed it, he would be able to tolerate this as a minor inconvenience. He would gladly switch back into his nude human form for their mutual delight, but it would wreak havoc in public places and situations. When it came to being out in public, he preferred to be a wolf. No one ever noticed when a wolf was naked. It was expected and accepted.

Taking out the iced tea, he poured a glass for himself and gulped down every drop. The water Tamara provided for him was a sweet gesture but it wasn’t enough for his increased libido and insatiable thirst, especially when she was parading around nude in front of him. He choked, in mid-gulp, and his breathing turned raspy as the image of her luscious body floated across his mind.

He walked into the master bedroom that, as Nightfall, Tamara forbade him to enter. Searching through the bathroom closet, he found a towel and modestly wrapped his bottom half in it. This way, if any neighbors became curious and happened to notice him, they’d conclude he was merely a guest in her home instead of a pervert or worse—an intruder with the worst intentions for Tamara. He grimaced. He wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her in any way. With him around, she was protected and safe…always. She was his mate and he would willingly die keeping her alive.

Clicking the power button on the TV remote, he sat on the loveseat and luxuriated in the lingering smell of her scent wafting from the cushions. He melted into the seat inhaling the sweet, enticing aroma, imagining all kinds of delicious, erotic possibilities with her devilishly tempting body.

Lord, she was sexy.

If she were here right now, she’d need protection from him.



Monday, 9 July 2018

I Promise: A #Romance #Novel by Tonya Coffey

Tonya lives in a small town in southern Kentucky with her husband and two sons. They spend most of their time outdoors, discovering the beauty of the world. If she isn't reading or writing, you will find her sitting in front of a canvas, painting the landscape around her home.

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About the Book


Do you remember your first high school crush?

Would he jump into danger for you?


Mine did...

My daddy warned me to not walk down Cider Avenue after school. I thought the threat on my life was nonsense, just like the other times before... But when arms engulfed me, tugging me into a van, on that very street, I wished I had listened.

My only hope is in the motorcycle club, Night Hawks. I couldn't deny, the son of the club's president had swept me off my feet. I was drawn to the boy with rugged looks and a heart of gold.

As my world collapses into chaos, will he pull me from the clutches of my enemies or will our families be drawn into a war of blood, guns and broken promises?

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Keep reading for an excerpt:


When my captures threw me in here, I was afraid I would take my last breath in this dirty, smelling place. I expected to hear the hammer click back on a weapon and feel the steal against my temple. Instead, my ties were removed and a door slammed shut behind me, causing me to remove my hood and take in my surroundings. My eyes worked around the small shed. When I saw no way out, I fell to my knees and tears filled my eyes. I wanted to cry but I didn’t. To stop them, I sucked in a ragged breath and scooted back into the corner.

My heartbeat steadied as I thought about Dad. He warned me and I didn’t listen. I had to let my hormones drive me. I had to defy him for a boy. It was my entire fault.

I nestled my cheek against my knee as I closed my eyes. The whistle of a train blew as it sped by. Every few hours another train rolled along the tracks alerting me to where I was. It was the only part of town where a road crossed the train tracks. It was the southern part, the worst part of our county. If it was the first time one laid eyes on it, it would remind someone of a deserted city. Large block buildings and overgrown concrete setting in the middle of fields. Repossessed homes, broken structures and forests were everywhere around me.

Each whistle made the time speed by, my stomach ached. It wasn’t because I hadn’t eaten since lunch. It had to do with the fear that grew in the pit. Right now it was a seed but with each minute a new root took shape. A new sprout formed, taking over my strength. I was afraid what would happen if it grew into my core. I won’t let it.

Standing, I refused to let the fear take hold, to grow into more. I wanted to squash it like a bug, so I paced, making the blood flow through my body and help my limbs not feel as cold.

Turning again, I faced the door. I stared at the wooden planks and broken beams. It was old but whoever had me in here reinforced the broken pieces in case the person inside tried to escape. Premeditated, I thought.

I made my way to the door. I stared at it as if it were a stranger. Slowly I raised my hand, holding it inches from the wood as if a fire roared on the other side and the door was too hot to touch.

I gripped the handle. The cool steal felt as if it burned into my flesh. Ignoring the feeling, I took a breath and pulled. It didn’t move. Placing my other hand against the door frame, for leverage, I tugged harder. Nothing.

Friday, 6 July 2018

A Beautiful Glittering Lie: A #Novel of the #CivilWar by J.D.R. Hawkins




J.D.R. Hawkins is an award-winning author who has written for newspapers, magazines, newsletters, e-zines, and blogs. She is one of only a few female Civil War authors, and uniquely describes the front lines from a Confederate perspective. Her Renegade Series includes A Beautiful Glittering Lie, winner of the 2013 John Esten Cooke Fiction Award and the 2012 B.R.A.G. Medallion, A Beckoning Hellfire, which is also an award winner, and A Rebel Among Us, recipient of the 2017 John Esten Cooke Fiction Award. These books tell the story of a family from north Alabama who experience immeasurable pain when their lives are dramatically changed by the war. Her nonfiction book, Horses in Gray: Famous Confederate Warhorses, has recently been published. She is currently working on another sequel for the Renegade Series. Ms. Hawkins is a member of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, the International Women’s Writing Guild, Pikes Peak Writers, and Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers. She is also an artist and singer/songwriter. Learn more about her at http://jdrhawkins.com.

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In the spring of 1861, a country once united is fractured by war. Half of America fights for the Confederate cause; the other, for unification. Rebel forces have already seized Fort Morgan and Fort Gaines, a new Confederate president has been elected, and the Constitution has been revised. In north Alabama, a farmer and father of three decides to enlist. For Hiram Summers, it is the end of everything he has ever known.

After Hiram travels to Virginia with the Fourth Alabama Infantry Regiment, he is quickly thrust into combat. His son, David, who must stay behind, searches for adventure at home by traipsing to Huntsville with his best friend, Jake Kimball, to scrutinize invading Yankees. Meanwhile, Caroline – Hiram’s wife and David’s mother – struggles to keep up with the farm as her world revolves around the letters she receives from her husband, whom she misses dearly. As Hiram and his son discover the true meaning of war, they soon realize that their choices have torn their family apart.

In this historical tale, the naïveté of a young country is tested, a father sacrifices everything to defend his home, and a young man longs for adventure – regardless of the perilous cost.

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Keep reading for an excerpt:


Word of the battle quickly spread to Huntsville, and within days, filtered down to Morgan County. Caroline had mentally prepared herself for what she anticipated would happen, but when the first battle finally did take place, she found herself ill-equipped. Doing her best to shelter her brood, she realized it was just a matter of time before they heard of the event.

A week later, she learned that a list of fatalities had been posted, and knew she had to drive to Ben Johnson’s mercantile to have a look, but all the while, her heart felt as though it was breaking. She dreaded the list, dreaded the result of the terrible fighting, dreaded what the war might be doing to her home, and especially, dreaded seeing Hiram’s name listed. Traveling alone, she reached her destination, climbed down from the wagon, hitched her draft horse, and approached the two-story wooden structure. Her ankle boots clunked up the wooden steps and across the porch’s pine slat floorboards with every step she took. She pulled the front door open, and a tiny bell above it announced her arrival. Upon entering, she saw several others gathered around a notice tacked to a wall. Ben Johnson nodded her way. He threw a glance toward the posted list. She knew what it meant.

Slowly, feeling like she was floating, she approached the others, passing by the dry goods, the glass cases displaying pottery, clothing, and sewing notions, and under farm equipment hanging from the ceiling rafters. Some of the women were sobbing, covering their faces with handkerchiefs, while others turned away, or stared at her with vacant eyes. As they drifted off, she stepped toward the ominous poster, held her breath, and forced herself to gaze upon the names. When she had reached the bottom, she breathed a sigh of relief. Hiram’s name wasn’t on the list, although she recognized one that was. Turning toward the counter, she wiped a trickling tear from her cheek, walked over, and requested a copy of the Southern Advocate.

Initially at a loss for words, Ben cleared his throat. “I reckon Hiram’s name ain’t on there,” he finally said.

The revelation started sinking in. Caroline smiled. “No, thankfully not.”

Ben returned the smile. “Right glad to hear it.” He handed her a newspaper. “The editor of this paper, Mr. William Figures, has a son who’s with your husband’s regiment.”

“Oh?” she replied cordially. “He’s all right, ain’t he? I mean, I didn’t see…”

“Yes, ma’am, far as I can tell.”

“That’s mighty fine. Well, I’ll be on my way. Good-day, Mr. Johnson.” Turning to leave, she opened the paned-glass door.

Ben called out, “When you write to that man of yours, tell him I said hello.”

“I surely will,” she replied.

Returning to the wagon, she untied Joe Boy, climbed aboard, slapped the reins, and drove out of view from the mercantile before pulling the vehicle to a stop. Uncontrollably, she burst into tears, sobbing convulsively until her heartache subsided.

Monday, 2 July 2018

Hell Hole: The Official Screenplay by Donald Firesmith #SciFi

A geek by day, Donald Firesmith works as a system and software engineer helping the US Government acquire large, complex software-intensive systems. In this guise, he has authored seven technical books, written numerous software- and system-related articles and papers, and spoken at more conferences than he can possibly remember. He's also proud to have been named a Distinguished Engineer by the Association of Computing Machinery, although his pride is tempered somewhat by his fear that the term "distinguished" makes him sound like a graybeard academic rather than an active engineer whose beard is still slightly more red than gray.

By night and on weekends, his alter ego writes modern paranormal fantasy, apocalyptic science fiction, action and adventure novels and relaxes by handcrafting magic wands from various magical woods and mystical gemstones. His first foray into fiction is the book Magical Wands: A Cornucopia of Wand Lore written under the pen name Wolfrick Ignatius Feuerschmied. He lives in Crafton, Pennsylvania with his wife Becky, and his son Dane, and varying numbers of dogs and cats.

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When a huge hole opens up in the path of a controversial new pipeline, the oil company’s head of safety convinces her estranged husband to fly up to Alaska’s North Slope and investigate. But when the geologist Jack Oswald rappels down into the mysterious pit, he discovers it is unlike anything he has ever seen before. Meanwhile, giant wolf-like creatures slaughter both wildlife and people, and they attack the nearby protester camp, indiscriminately killing protesters and even the oil company’s armed guards. This prompts a reporter to reveal herself as a member of an ancient secret society dedicated to defending humanity from demons. The survivors soon learn there are worse monsters than hellhounds. To repair his broken marriage, the middle-aged geology professor only needs to save his wife, defeat a devil, seal the hell hole, and put an end to Armageddon. What could possibly go wrong?

This movie script for the full-length feature film, Hell Hole, is based on Donald Firesmith's novel, Hell Holes: What Lurks Below.

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