The fascinating Lady Olivia has captured the Earl’s attention. Newly arrived from the country to stay with her school friend for the Season, she is appalled to discover that her husband, Lord Coventry, doesn’t even recognize her. She’s not about to tell the arrogant arse that she is his wife. Instead, she flirts with him by night and has her modiste send her mounting bills to him by day.

Barnes & Noble /  Amazon / Kobo / iBookstore

*Character Interview: Jason & Olivia*

Interview of Jason, the Earl of Coventry, and his wife, Lady Olivia Coventry.

Interviewer: Thank you so much for taking time from your busy social schedule to talk to us today. The first question I have is for you, Jason. What was your first impression of Olivia?

Jason: I’m embarrassed to tell you that I was a little bit drunk at our first meeting. And−

Olivia: Ha! More than a little.

Jason (clasping Olivia’s hand): I know, sweetheart, and I’m still very sorry.

Olivia (staring into his eyes): Yes, dear. I’ve forgiven you.

Interviewer: (cough)

Olivia and Jason: Sorry

Interviewer: That’s all right. It’s nice to see how well you get along now. But I understand, Olivia, there was a time when that wasn’t true. Can you tell us how your angst with Jason came about?

Olivia: As he mentioned, my husband was quite drunk at our wedding. Since that was the first time we met, he didn’t leave me with a very good impression.

Jason: Can I interject here?

Interviewer: Of course.

Jason: My father arranged the marriage without my knowledge and consent. I was merely rebelling against his wishes. Had I known then what a wonderful wife I was gaining, I would not have been drunk, and certainly eager.

(Olivia sighs)

Interviewer: I see. Then, Jason, how long did it take you to fall I love with Olivia?

Jason: (shamefaced) Well, er, you see, that’s where it gets tricky.

Interviewer raises her eyebrows.

Jason: Yes. You see, I met my wonderful wife in a London ballroom, and was immediately taken with her.

Olivia: (patting his hand). Not ‘met,’ dear. We’d already met.

Jason: Sorry. (sheepish smile).

Interviewer: (clears throat) Perhaps we should move along to another subject.

Jason nods vigorously.

Interviewer: I understand, Olivia, you are an exceptional musician.

Olivia: (glowing) Oh yes. I play the pianoforte, and simply love it. I was trained by the best in both London and Rome.

Jason: And all her talents are beyond compare.

Olivia: Thank you, dear.

Interviewer: Oh, is she talented in other ways?

Jason: Yes. Very talented. Mostly at night. When we retire for the evening–

Olivia: (blushing) Jason! For heaven’s sake.

Jason: Bloody hell, I’m in trouble again!

Interviewer: (Running his finger around the inside of his collar). Well, I think I have enough for my story. Thank you both very much. And I wish you a splendid life together.

She makes a quick exit.

About the Author:

Callie has been making up stories since elementary school, and writing gave her a way to turn off the voices in her head. After having a number of articles and interviews published in newspapers and magazines, she took on what she’d always dreamed of. Writing that book. She currently has a number of both historical and contemporary romance books published. Visit her website for more information. www.calliehutton.com

She currently lives in Oklahoma with her husband and adult children who move in and out with alarming regularity. Add three rescue dogs and the household is complete—and full. She enjoys hearing from her readers, and would love to have you visit her on Facebook.

 Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads

*Giveaway*

The Earl will gift a family heirloom charm bracelet of pearl and sterling silver to the individual who assists with the locations of The Elusive Wife.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Fade Into Fantasy - editor & coffee lover addicted to paranormal novels

Kissing the Maid of Honor

by Robin Bielman

Kissing her best friend’s brother never felt so right…

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Fade Into Fantasy - editor & coffee lover addicted to paranormal novels

First Born

Lily Moore series, Bk 1

by Tricia Zoeller

When twenty-six-year-old graphic designer Lily Moore shapeshifts for the first time, Atlanta police detectives consult wildlife experts to sort through the bizarre forensic evidence she leaves in her wake. Her traumatic transformation coincides with murder and Lily finds herself the center of a mad vortex of area crimes.

On the run, Lily turns to her younger brother to help unravel the secrets surrounding her boyfriend’s death as well as unlock the mysteries of their Chinese heritage. When a loved one goes missing, Lily finds herself scrambling to find purchase in this new world where there hasn’t been balance for a century.

As she learns to master her new preternatural abilities, she must cut through the lies of those around her. With the police and a killer hot on her trail, can she solve the mystery of being First Born or will family secrets prove deadly?

Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Smashwords / Goodreads

*Excerpt*

Her new email account was ewoksrock@gmail.com. Well, maybe the Star Wars reference would help her use the force. She continued to feel light-headed with a strange itch radiating throughout her back. Maybe it’s Frank’s fabric softener. She reached back to scratch. What the f—?

Something was on her back. And it was big! What kind of critters live in their garage? She twisted from side to side, unable to shake the thing loose. Panicked, she raced toward the front door, screeching like a Howler monkey. Something bumped against the narrow hallway walls, clinging to her in hot pursuit. Its fierce backwards pull caused her to lean forward as if she were walking into a fierce wind. She popped free as she hit the opening of the front hall. Her momentum flung her forward onto her knees.

Frazzled and disoriented, Lily panted while white stuff swirled in the air around her. Her legs shaking, she stood up. Ever so slowly, she turned to face her adversary.

Her mouth opened in a silent scream. She was so freaked out that she had lost power.

It was worse than anything she could ever imagine.

About the Author:

Tricia lives in Marietta, Georgia with her husband, Lou, her little yappy dog, Lola Belle, and her big orange mutant cat, George. Her two stepsons, Joseph and Robert, make stopovers as well, making sure to keep life an adventure.

Tricia earned a B.A. in Journalism and Anthropology from Indiana University in Bloomington. After moving to Atlanta in 1992, she obtained her Masters of Education in Communication Disorders from Georgia State University and spent a decade working as a Speech-Language Pathologist, most recently in the pediatric field treating children on the Autism Spectrum.

Writing has always been a part of her life–like breathing and chocolate.

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads 

*Tour Giveaway*

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Fade Into Fantasy - editor & coffee lover addicted to paranormal novels

TUNNEL OUT OF DEATH

Jamil Nasir

Tor Hardcover

978-0-7653-0611-1

$25.99 / 304 p.

On sale May 7, 2013

Heath Ransom, former police psychic turned machine-enhanced “endovoyant” private investigator, is hired to find the consciousness of the rich and comatose Margaret Biel and return it to her body. Tracking her through the etheric world, he comes upon a strange and terrifying object that appears to be a tear in the very fabric of reality. He falls into it—and into an astonishing metaphysical shadow-play.

For Margaret is a pawn in a war between secret, ruthless government agencies and a nonhuman entity known only as “Amphibian.” Their battlefield is a multi-level reality unlike anything humankind has ever imagined.  When Heath learns to move back and forth between two different versions of his life, and begins to realize that everyone around him may be a super-realistic android, that is only the beginning of a wholesale deconstruction of reality that threatens more than his sanity….

Amazon / IndieBound / Barnes & Noble / BooksAMillion / Powell’s / Overstock / Walmart

*Excerpt*

Ransom International’s conference room was upstairs in the 1930s mansion that Heath Ransom used as both home and office. It had an antique cherry-wood table, an ambience system that was currently pumping out the invigorating air of a mountain pine forest, and remote conferencing lenses in the ceiling. Unfortunately today the lenses were dark: instead of a hologram, the actual physical body of a young man continued down past the surface of the table and pressed heavily into one of the conference chairs, which made slight sounds when he moved. Particularly unfortunate because the young man—a large, handsome, impatient person whose business card said “Dr. Eugene Denmark, President and CEO of GeneMark LLC”—had an unusually disturbing neural-field leakage, full of apprehension and grim determination, as if whatever business deal he wanted to propose to Ransom International was a matter of life and death.

Field leakage was a muted background murmur that Ransom heard around people, like a low-voiced discussion going on in the next room. He had bought this house to minimize such distractions: the spacious grounds that separated it from the street and neighbors kept it quiet enough for him to conduct his endovoyant investigations business, and relax when he wasn’t working. His neurological bug/feature also made it tricky to choose employees: like Charles Tobin, the small, elegant man sitting next to him, they had to be both competent and benign—a less common combination than you might hope.

Tobin, well aware of his boss’s sensitivities, was taking the brunt of the meeting, and Ransom had gratefully allowed his attention to wander. Just now he was discreetly watching out the window as a retro-style hippie minibus passed down Anglia Street in the distance beyond his lawn and autumn-colored trees, meter-high letters on its side scrolling out the message REAP WHAT YOU SOW. The current mania for religions had brought out amateur preachers all over the country. Not only that; more and more of his clients nowadays wanted religion-related services, like proving doctrinal fraud or locating the resting places of saints. An unpleasant feeling came over Ransom; he disliked that sort of work, which presumed he was some kind of witch doctor—

The unpleasant feeling grew stronger, and with a start Ransom realized that it had not come from the thought of his religious clients at all. Rather, his guest’s field leakage had suddenly taken on a grating tone, and in some confusion Ransom realized that the man was staring at him.

He tried to take in what Denmark was saying. “—isolating Class One humans for long periods in a specific nerve-growth medium stimulates unusual development of the medulla, and consequently of the telepathic and clairvoyant faculties. We theorize that the enforced sensory and social deprivation stimulates activation of the telepathic areas to overcome the isolation. Then, once the subject emerges from the tank, you have a ready-made telepath or clairvoyant.”

“Wait a minute,” Ransom said, now roused completely. “Is this some kind of government research? The NGF tanks you’re talking about are USAdministration military, aren’t they?”

Denmark’s eyes went vacant for a second, as they had every time Ransom had talked during the meeting. Of course, one of the few reasons anyone would ask for a physical meeting nowadays was to sneak snoop gadgets into the venue, and RI observed the usual business protocol of ignoring such things if they weren’t too intrusive. On the other hand, business protocol also prescribed that the wired party keep his surveillance subtle. Did this Denmark really think he was going to close a deal by making a bug-eyed display of peeping all over Ransom’s somatic indicators during their talk?

Denmark’s attention came back. “Mr. Ransom, I can assure you that there are no legal or national security strictures barring GeneMark from selling this technology, or you from buying it.”

The sentence came out smoothly, but Denmark’s background murmur had changed. The man wasn’t exactly lying, but he was holding something back. This made Ransom uneasy. NGF tanks turning out ready-made telepaths would have been huge news in the endovid detective community, but he had heard nothing about it. Could Denmark be a federal agent? USAdmin made an enormous income from industrial espionage, using spy technology that was illegal for nongovernment entities to possess; but it was rumored to still be light on endovid talent. Catching a prominent investigator breaking federal law—by trying to buy top-secret government technology, for example—might be a good way of blackmailing him into working for them.

Tobin’s field also expressed unease. He used his own smooth voice: “Frankly, Dr. Denmark, we would normally consider such a radically new technology only if it came from one of the established firms in the field. I for one have not had the pleasure of dealing with GeneMark previously.”

“GeneMark is a start-up formed specifically to market this technology.”

“I would think that most start-ups couldn’t afford the FDA licensing costs. Has FDA cleared you to do Phase Two studies?”

“Ah, right, let me explain,” said Denmark, smiling. There was a slight stiffness about his face, Ransom thought, as if he had recently had some cheap plastic surgery, like a mobster. Or maybe the man’s bad vibes were making him imagine it. “Your concern is understandable, but this technology is actually perfect for a start-up like GeneMark. Under FDA’s regulations, gene-expression modifications taking place strictly in response to environmental factors are presumptively Class One. That means that the burden of any testing would be on a party trying to prove that our medulla enhancements are not Class One.”

“And are they Class One?” Tobin asked.

“We believe so, yes.”

Again the murmur from Denmark’s etheric “other room” underwent a change. There was an iceberg somewhere under the tip the man was showing. But even if there hadn’t been, as far as Ransom was concerned the meeting was over. Nowadays even some Class Two mutations were legal, but he had grown up in the late twentieth century, and such things disturbed him. He had been a successful endovid for almost three decades without any engineering; if his competitors started packing on gene enhancements that left him in the dust, he would simply close up shop. He had more than enough money to retire on, even if they kept up the advances in life extension.

Providentially, at that moment his assistant Clarice buzzed. With a murmured “excuse me,” he took her out of his pocket and looked into her attractive Japanese face. “Sorry to disturb you, Heath, but a prospective client is requesting an urgent meeting. They’re here in person. Anna is with them in your office. They say it’s an emergency.”

“In person?” The knot in his stomach tightened; two physical visits in one morning.

But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He said: “Dr. Denmark, I’m terribly sorry, but I’ve just been summoned to an emergency meeting downstairs. I want to thank you very much for coming in to talk to us. Obviously, we’ll have to discuss your proposal internally before getting back to you.”

Denmark looked taken aback. “Well, actually, Mr. Ransom, I was hoping very much to have a few minutes alone with you. To discuss a somewhat delicate—”

“I’m really awfully sorry,” said Ransom, rising. “I hope you’ll send us any additional materials you think we need in order to evaluate your product.”

“But it’s very important.” Denmark stood up, too. A flare of panic suddenly expanded from him like a flame, catching Ransom off guard. He steadied himself against the edge of the table.

“Perhaps I could continue with Dr. Denmark while you run to your meeting,” said Tobin, reading Ransom’s body language.

“Good idea,” said Ransom dizzily, now desperate to get away. “Dr. Denmark, my assistant Mr. Tobin has my complete confidence. I will rely on his recommendation in any event.”

For the first time during their meeting, Ransom felt that Denmark looked into his eyes without the split second of glassy distractedness. “This is something you need to hear, Heath,” he said, too loudly, as if trying to get his attention in a crowd. Ransom had not invited him to use his first name. “Reality is more malleable than you can imagine. This fact is being exploited. I need to talk to you—to you personally. Someone very dangerous—” He stopped talking abruptly, as if he had said too much.

With difficulty, Ransom maintained his professional demeanor. “I really am very sorry, Mr. Denmark, but I have to rush.”

Denmark’s field was hopeless now, as if he had lost a fatal gamble. Wordlessly, he leaned across the table and held out his hand. Long practice at being polite overcoming his reluctance to touch another person, Ransom extended his own. Denmark’s hand was cold. And at the touch, the unfocused murmur of the man’s psychic leakage suddenly sharpened.

A still summer morning rose up around Ransom, nearly erasing the conference room. Birdsong and the gentle wash of surf were the only sounds. He stood at the top of a high bluff, a sandy path leading down among trees to a beach. But a feeling of menace and danger hung about the peaceful scene, like ominous music at the beginning of a horror movie.

Quickly disengaging his hand, Ransom nodded politely and found his way unsteadily from the room.

Copyright © 2013 by Jamil Nasir

About the Author:

Jamil Nasir was born in Chicago, Illinois, but spent much of his childhood in the Middle East, surviving two major wars.  He returned to the U.S. in 1970, and started college (at age 14), studying hard science, philosophy, psychology, Chinese history, and many other things, finally graduating from the University of Michigan with a Bachelors of General Studies degree.  He also attended the University of Michigan Law School.  Between stints at school he hitchhiked around North America, working as a carpenter, fruit picker, warehouseman, gardener, shop clerk, and paralegal, among other occupations.  He currently works on large regulatory and litigation cases at a Washington, D.C. law firm, and lives in a suburb of Washington with his two daughters.  He holds a 2nd Dan Black Belt in Taekwondo.  His other hobbies are photography and rampant metaphysical speculation.

Fade Into Fantasy - editor & coffee lover addicted to paranormal novels

Werewolves Be Damned

by Stacey Kennedy

Publisher: Entangled Publishing

Release date: April 15, 2013

Nexi Jones—part witch, part guardian, and wannabe kick-ass warrior—can’t throw a punch or conjure the simplest magic. But that doesn’t stop her from hunting the werewolves who slaughtered her human family. She’ll have her revenge, but only if Kyden, the elite guardian, would get the hell out of her way.

Kyden can’t decide if Nexi wants to get herself killed or if she just has no clue what she’s doing. But her father made it clear: keep Nexi safe…or else. Of course, the more Nexi runs toward revenge, the more she needs Kyden’s aid, and as she grows into her power and confidence, so does his desire to protect her. The only problem? She’d rather he dropped dead.

But when a vampire paints a bull’s-eye on Nexi’s back, she’s hard-pressed to deny Kyden and the help he’s offering. Even if it means getting her revenge will be a little bit harder. At least it will still be as sweet.

Goodreads / Amazon / B&N / Kobo / iTunes

*Excerpt*

I’ve found you, fur ball.

Nexi peered from behind the large oak tree and spotted the small log cabin nestled in the thick forest. The porch light cast a warm glow into the night. Fog settled over the lush grass, and the night was dark, eerie.

Stepping away from her hiding place behind the tree, she strode forward and gripped the dagger tightly in her hand. Keeping the silver blade pointed outward, she climbed the cabin’s porch steps, taking each one slowly to avoid detection.

Once she arrived at the front door, she wrapped her hand around the door handle.

Rich hunger for revenge burned in her veins and made her intent on one thing: to slaughter the werewolf who escaped the night of her parents’ murder. Not caring what awaited her, she stormed inside, dagger pointed, ready to kill.

The simple cabin had two large brown couches near a wood-burning stove, a kitchenette behind the living room, and a quilt-covered bed resting in the back. And that was it; there were no other rooms to investigate. No secret hiding places she could see.

No damned werewolf.

She cursed, shut the front door behind her, then trotted down the steps to return to her hiding spot. On her way across the yard, she glanced at the space to the right of the tree, which looked much like a heat wave, indicating that the portal to the Otherworld remained.

In some places around the world—or the Earthworld, as supernaturals had called it—there were permanent portals to the supernatural realm. This portal had only appeared because Nexi had travelled to this cabin from the Otherworld. Once she passed through the portal again, the gateway would vanish.

Magic had its perks. Quick travel was one of them.

Nexi shook her head at how normal all this magical stuff seemed now. Just over a month ago she’d never believed in anything that went bump in the night. Now she knew all those things existed, and in fact, she was one of them.

To her horror, she had learned that her birth mother, Tillie, had been murdered by a power-hungry vampire, Lazarus. All those years ago, her birth father, Drake, had protectively decided to block Nexi’s supernatural abilities. He had planned for her to live and die as a mortal. Now with her return to the Otherworld and the removal of the block on her true identity, there was no going back.

She was no longer plain, human, Nexi Jones.

She was Nexi Jones, part guardian, part witch.

Looking away from the portal and to her hiding spot until the werewolf returned, she hurried her steps. She wasn’t ready to return to the Otherworld yet. Not until she had the werewolf’s head as her wall ornament would she dare go home.

Just as she neared the tree, a woodsy scent that had nothing to do with the forest mixed with the citrusy aroma of aftershave. A blink of an eye later, the dagger she held was now at her throat, a hard body closed in on her back.

“You smelled lovely when you arrived.” The low voice by her ear held a faint English accent. “But I never imagined you’d be so pretty.”

The blade pressed into her skin, not drawing blood, but implying that if the werewolf chose, she’d be destined for the grave. “I’m…”

“Going to explain yourself.” He lowered the dagger, took hold of her arm, and jerked her forward.

In a few short strides, the werewolf tossed her through the threshold of the cabin, and slammed the door behind them. He sauntered to the couch, sat down, and regarded her. “Now then, darlin’.” His olive skin was stunningly flawless, and his chocolate-colored hair was spiked tall. “Why would a pretty lass like yourself plan to attack me?”

“Don’t move.” That charm wouldn’t fool her. “Stay right where you are.”

“My mouth is the only thing moving.” His slanted amber eyes raked over her. “Would you like me to stop talking?”

“No.” She hesitated then added, “Only your mouth can move. Nothing else. Tell me what you know.”

He gave her a long look. “I’d be glad to tell you anything you’d like, love.”

His kind face and soft voice wouldn’t trick her. He was a werewolf. She was certain, which was another oddity.

After the block on her supernatural abilities had been lifted, she could identify a supernatural creature as if knowing the difference between a brunette and a redhead.

“Tell me why you killed my family.”

“That’s an interesting accusation.” He cocked his head, studying her with a frown.

“But I think the more important question is who are you?”

She lifted her chin. “The lass who’s going to cut off your furry wolf balls.”

*Character Interview*

In Stacey’s newest release, WEREWOLVES BE DAMNED, we are introduced to guardian, Kyden, and guardian/witch, Nexi. Today we had the chance to sit down and ask them some juicy questions.

Now, let’s turn the spotlight onto Nexi!

What’s your favorite thing about Kyden?

Have you seen his body? Doesn’t that say it all? Okay, honestly, though, my favorite thing about Kyden is he’s got a sweet side buried beneath all those muscles. He plays tough most the time, but deep down, he’s my big softy.

How did you meet?

Our first introduction wasn’t a memory I like to visit often. Kyden had come with my birth father, Drake, to save me from werewolves who attacked my family and I. After that, Kyden kept having to chase me while I sought revenge for the death of my parents. It’s not my most proud moment, but craving revenge makes you do crazy things!

What do you most love about Kyden?

I’m not sure I could list everything I love about him, or even explain how and why I care for him. It just clicked with Kyden. He’s accepting and tolerant of me, when maybe others wouldn’t be. He’s all the things I’m not: logical, patient, and cautious. I’m a bit reckless, tend to have an attitude, and can get myself into dangerous moments. But yeah, that’s what I love about Kyden, he levels me out.

Do you ever feel like Kyden tries to control you?

Yes, of course, he does. He’s a guardian and that comes with territory. Plus, we live in a dangerous world where supernaturals want to kill us. He can be protective, which turns him into a chest-beating caveman. I’m sure you’re not surprised to hear I don’t like when he gets like that. 

How do you feel about marriage?

Well, marriage is something that’s a bit different now. In the Otherworld, mates go through a magical ceremony to declare their bond to each other. I’m not sure of all the ins-and-outs right now, but I learned from my family how wonderful a good marriage could be. So, yeah, I’m a sucker for gushy love.

What is Kyden’s sexiest physical attribute?

Trick question, right? No? Well then, I’d have to say, all his attributes are damn sexy!

~*~

Okay, Kyden, don’t give us that grumpy look, and don’t make this like pulling teeth either. It’s your turn!

When’s the first time you realized you were attracted to Nexi?

The moment she opened her mouth and told me off. What can I say—I love a spitfire.

How would you describe the perfect date?

Having Nexi in my bed.

What do you dislike the most about Nexi?

The things that drive me mad about Nexi are also the things I love about her. She’s confident, eager, strong, and independent. Yes, these are all traits that I adore in her, but it’s also the traits that get her into trouble.

Are children in your future?

Not sure, but I’m more than willing to practice for when we decide to make that decision.

What has changed about Nexi since you first met?

A lot. Revenge can do interesting things to a guardian, who is at war with herself. She dealt with guilt and grief. Her family had been murdered, and she was thrust into a supernatural world she didn’t know existed. It’s my hope Nexi’s life will soon settle again, become easier, and maybe a little more peaceful.

What’s in store for the future?

Knowing how things have been so far since Nexi has returned to the Otherworld, I suspect things are about to get far more dangerous than I’d want.

 * * * * *

Wow! We actually got some answers out of Kyden. Impressive! Thank you to Fade into Fantasy for sitting down to chat with Nexi & Kyden. It’s been a blast!

About the Author:

Stacey Kennedy is an urban fantasy lover at heart, but she also enjoys losing herself in dark and sensual worlds. She lives in southwestern Ontario with her husband, who gave her a happily-ever-after. Together, they have two small children who can always make her smile, and who will never be allowed to read Mommy’s books. If she’s not plugging away at a new story, you’ll find her camping, curling up with the latest flick, or obsessing over Sons of Anarchy and Game of Thrones.

Website / Facebook / Facebook Fan Page / Twitter / Goodreads

*Giveaway*

$100 gift card to either Amazon or B&N and swag. The winner will be drawn on Stacey’s site (www.staceykennedy.com) on May 20.

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Fade Into Fantasy - editor & coffee lover addicted to paranormal novels