Margay Leah Justice: I've Been Interviewed!: I'm excited to announce that I've been interviewed by Tammy at Fallen Angel Reviews! You can read it here and learn a little more about ...
Monday, July 2, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Margay Leah Justice: Angels vs. Demons - Where Do YOU Stand?: Do You Believe in Angels? Dante I never set out to write about angels. I didn’t sit down one day and think to myself, “A...
Whispered by Margay Roberge at 4:37 PM
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Valora Delos is a Hunter, charged with tracking the treacherous Soulstealers and bringing them to justice. Unlike the other fae of her kind, Valora was born with stunted wings that render her flightless, driving her to prove herself in the eyes of King Aric, with whom she has been infatuated since she first set eyes on him as a young prince.
She descends to Earth and finds herself trapped in suburban Seattle after the portal to her world closes. With the help of a sexy half-fae named Dooley, Valora must find her way back to save Dell’Aria. Dooley uses his own brand of magic to help Valora discover memories buried deep within her, which produce more questions than answers- questions about her growing attraction to Dooley and her devotion to her King. Uncovering who the Soulstealers are and who is behind the destruction of Dell’Aria brings Valora a truth she may not be able to handle.
Heat Level: Sizzling Romance. Sensual, sexual and edgy.
He reached over and pulled the chair from my hand, turning it around and placing his hands atop the finials. “Sit down.”
I think I let out a small squeak. I tucked my cloak underneath me as I sat down and tried to position my scabbard so it would not stick out at an awkward angle. I already felt less than graceful. I certainly didn’t need to accidentally stab the King.
I could feel his heat recede as he walked silently away from me. I faced the door to his throne room and didn’t dare turn around to see what he was doing. I heard a drawer open and shut.
“Close your eyes.”
The blood rushed to my head all at once, and I was all too happy to be sitting down because if I had not, I would certainly have fainted then. Facing down a real dragon was easier than facing The Dragon – which was what many called King Aric after he took the dragon as his royal symbol. A symbol that adorned the clasp holding my cloak together.
I jolted in my seat as a brush of cool wet cotton swept across the angry wounds on my upper thigh. The heady scent of fresh rain and morning dew surrounded me as the King knelt before me. A strange scent for a King not allowed outside the walls, but then again this was the first time I had been close enough to catch his scent. I could feel the press of his chest against my bare knees, the warmth of his breath as he placed his face inches from mine.
“Do not speak. I need you to listen to me.”
I am currently hosting a giveaway on Goodreads (http://www.goodreads.com/
Amazon Kindle: Fae Hunter: Book One: The Soulstealer Trilogy
Amazon Print Copy:Fae Hunter: Book One: The Soulstealer Trilogy
Barnes & Noble Nook: Fae Hunter: Book One: The Soulstealer Trilogy
All Romance eBooks: Fae Hunter: Book One: The Soulstealer Trilogy
About the Author:
Nicolette is a mother, wife, paralegal, writer, knitter, traveler, violinist and anything else she can get her hands on. She turned to writing stories at an early age, when filling out Mad Libs just wasn’t enough.
She enjoys watching dark comedies, warped fairytales, and cheesy 80s comedies. Her interest in music spans from George Winston to Thrill Kill Cult to Bel Canto and U2. She loves to travel, and plans to do more as her son grows older. In her younger days she loved to go out dancing, and you may still, on occasion find her shaking her booty during 80s or goth rock nights at the few clubs they still exist at. She is constantly picking up new hobbies and interests. She knits socks, grows mini cucumbers in her garden, and played the violin for 5 years. She has a pug dog with a nervous temperament and speaks a little Spanish. She’s eclectic.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Among the northern tribes there is a legend passed down from generation to generation about shape-shifting Minders—guardians of the innocents—and how they came to be.
It is said that nowadays only a handful of Minders exist, hunted to near extinction by a fearsome beast. Of the remaining Minders, only one wears a garnet-studded collar, the symbol of protection and royalty.
Even when my aunt told me the story, and handed me an ancient garnet-studded band, I had no idea the tale applied to me.
After all, it’s only a legend…
A movement along the edge of the cliff caught my attention. A small rabbit nibbled at a tuft of clover growing between the rocks. I came to attention like a pointer. My nose began to quiver and my mouth water. I twitched my butt.
Without thought, I bolted out of the house after the rabbit. My blood raced and I breathed in short sharp pants. I could hear the creature’s heart pound and smell his warm vibrant flesh.
He took three frightened leaps and disappeared into the forest. I skidded to a stop, trembling so hard my teeth rattled. What’s wrong with me? I wanted to take a bite out of a poor defenseless little bunny. I pursed my lips and screwed up my face. Gross doesn’t begin to cover it.
This is way past PMSing. Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks.
I turn eighteen tomorrow. Surely, there’s no connection.
A sharp wind blew off the water. My eyes closed. I stood perfectly still, except for the shudders that racked my achy body as fear and revulsion washed over me like the loud pounding waves below.
“Happy Birthday, Darling.”
“Aunt Gin, you’ve done too much already,” I scolded.
The bag felt soft and warm in my hand. Without thought, I clasped it to my chest and felt comfort, like holding a security blanket. I relaxed my grip and held it to the light. It looked old.
“Actually, it’s a gift from your mother.”
My eyes widened and I frowned in confusion. My heart tightened. Before I could reply, Mary came back with our drinks.
My aunt added sweetener to her steaming tea. “Open it,” she urged after Mary walked away.
I opened the drawstrings and shook the contents of the bag into my hand. An antique necklace glittered in my palm.
It appeared to be some sort of choker. The material was like nothing I’d ever seen, almost like stretchy soft leather glittering with fire opal dust, inlaid with oval garnets. I held it to the light. My eyes widened as prisms of color danced around the stones, breathtaking in their beauty.
As I examined it, I felt someone’s stare.
Drawn, I turned my head. My breath caught in my throat, my heart began to pound and my palm’s sweat. The buzz from the surrounding tables faded. People nearby became shadowy figures.
A golden glow bathed the room as I stared at the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Thick, tawny, almost leonine hair capped his skull. His unusual amber eyes glowed like a cat’s. Skin stretched taut and smooth over high cheekbones. His lips made my mouth water.
My face must have reflected the same rapture I saw on his. Unfortunately, his gaze was on my necklace.
At the cliff’s edge, I stopped and listened to the steady lap of the waves against the rocks. I sucked cold air deep into my lungs. Night sounds surrounded me. A purr of contentment rose in my throat. I’m getting used to the purr. It’s a great way to express pleasure.
I pivoted toward the house and saw my aunt silhouetted in the window, the light at her back. I lifted my hand. She waved back.
The wind shifted. I smelled a rabbit. My butt twitched as the perfume of warm flesh filled my nostrils. His rapid heartbeat pulsed through my ears. I forgot all about Aunt and went bounding into the forest.
The rabbit saw me. With a frightened squeak, he hopped away, his little powder-puff tail white in the dark. I leapt after him and laughed with exuberance from the sheer joy of being alive.
The rabbit ran deep into the woods. I followed. Fear gave the bunny speed and he stayed just out of my grasp.
It happened gradually. My joints began to stiffen. The hair on the nape of my neck rose. A horrific scent filled my nostrils and made my stomach flop. No longer the hunter, at some point, I became the prey.
A heavy body crashed through the underbrush not far behind me.
My legs pumped and my heart pounded. Panicked, I pulled the mace out of my pocket.
Try as I might I couldn’t outrace whatever chased me. I swear I could feel hot breath on my back. As it closed the gap between us, it gave a piggish squeal of pleasure.
Sweat poured out my pores. My legs cramped. My sides on fire, I pushed myself harder.
A growl sounded behind me. It echoed and reechoed off the trees. Goose bumps roughened my skin. I glanced back. My heart moved up to my throat. My joints locked and made it almost impossible to run.
Still looking over my shoulder, I tumbled head first over a log. Rough bark scraped my shins. The can of mace rolled out of my hand. The scent of rotting wood and insects filled my nostrils as I landed on my elbow, my knees cocked at an awkward angle over the log.
I started to pull my legs back and scramble to my feet but I wasn’t fast enough. The beast’s hot breath penetrated my sweats, moments before his fangs pierced my thigh to the bone.
A scream filled the night. It took me a moment to realize it was mine.
Fire swirled through my blood. I swear I felt it bubble. My bones pushed hard against my skin. My vision blurred as muscle and tendons began to shift beneath my skin.
As the beast lumbered over the log after me, a wildcat shrieked nearby, his high-pitched snarl as terrifying as the monster that ripped my flesh.
The beast paused, his massive head swung in the direction of the feral sound. My heart pounded and stretched as if caught in a vise, but my vision cleared. What I saw filled me with abject terror. It was the stuff nightmares are made of. A black bear, no a huge wolf, with glowing crimson eyes, bore down on me.
A leonine scream of challenge echoed through the pines, bounced off rock and echoed in my ears. Fighting the pain coursing through my vibrating body, I forced my aching neck to turn.
The moon shown full on a beautiful puma, his lips drawn back, his tail lashing. He tilted his head and snarled. And the hits keep on a coming. Would I become beast fodder or puma silage? At the moment, I wasn’t in any condition to fight off either.
For one brief moment, the cat looked directly at me. My breath caught in my throat. Those eyes were eerily reminiscent of the stranger in the restaurant. The man called Kylar. Then the puma turned his attention to the beast. His ears back, he roared another challenge.
The beast threw back his head and responded, his mouth open he howled at the moon. The sound sent chills down my spine. A spine that felt like it was breaking and re-forming.
The puma screamed in response.
The beast turned from me and lumbered toward the puma. Even though the cat was large it was still half the size of the beast. They ran toward each other. The earth trembled as they clashed like titans their challenges ringing in the night.
I couldn’t concentrate on them any longer. My bones were stretching like rubber bands. It hurt like hell. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I bit my lips till they bled trying to keep from shrieking. Not wanting to draw the attention of the two wild animals fighting only yards away.
I crawled to the log and somehow got to my feet. Everything swirled around me. As my clothes fell off my pencil thin form, I stopped worrying about drawing attention to myself and began to screech. “What’s happening to me?”
Every inch of my body felt on fire as my joints exploded and my bones reformed. My cries turned to snarls. Sleek black fur sprouted through my skin.
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” I tried to say, but a cat’s cry escaped my lips. Warm blood, from the monster’s bite, coated my hind leg, but it was a minor concern compared to what was happening to me. No legend. Aunt Gin knew.
Then the pain disappeared. A dull ache where the monster bit me persisted but other than that I felt glorious. I threw back my head and roared.
About the Author:
Multi-published author Sandra Cox writes Crossover YA, YA Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Time Travel Romance and Metaphysical Nonfiction. She lives in sunny North Carolina with her husband, a brood of critters and an occasional foster cat.
Celebrate with Shannon by entering her "Angel Eyes" Giveaway and connecting with her during the Author Chat Party on 6/26!
Find out what readers are saying here.
One "angelic" winner will receive:
- A Brand New Nook Color
- A copy of Angel Eyes by Shannon Dittemore
Enter today by clicking one of the icons below. But hurry, the giveaway ends at noon on June 25th. Winner will be announced at the "Angel Eyes" Author Chat Facebook Party on 6/26. Shannon will be hosting a book chat, testing your trivia skills and giving away some great prizes!
So grab your copy of Angel Eyes and join Shannon on the evening of the June 26th for a chance to meet Shannon and make some new friends. (If you haven't read the book - don't let that stop you from coming!)
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Margay Leah Justice: Book Barrage: Holiday Affair by Annie Seaton: “Holiday Affair” by Annie Seaton BLURB Nothing more than a holiday fling…until he moved in next door! Staid professor L...
Whispered by Margay Roberge at 11:03 AM
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
There was a season in my life where I lived alone in a 1 bedroom apartment while working on my doctorate at Johns Hopkins University. It was on the whole a great time being independent, taking care of myself, and having the ability to focus on my work and studies. But it was also a bit lonely.
I had some good friends, and we did hang out, so I wasn’t isolated completely. But I had grown up in a family setting with people around all the time, so the times of being alone in my apartment could also be lonely.
Being alone can be good as it affords you time for introspection, prayer, and learning more about who you are. But it can also leave you time to stew on negative thoughts and emotions if you’re not careful. And those things can be like stepping into quicksand.
During those years, I did have my favorite cat of all times with me. He wasn’t a typical cat. No, he was what my daughter calls a “dogish” cat. He’d follow me around the apartment, talk when spoken to, beg for food, and basically always greet me with unconditional love, no matter how long I’d been away.
I didn’t realize what a blessing that was until he passed away after being my little buddy for about 16 years. What I’m saying is not news to anyone who’s owned and loved a pet. We know how they’re always there for us.
During those lonely nights working on my dissertation up at the wee hours of the night, my cat would sit on my lap and purr. When I’d come home late from an orchestra rehearsal and it was too late to call anyone just to chat before going to bed, my cat would come to the door, say hello, and rub himself all over my legs. He didn’t even eat when I fed him, he just wanted to be around me.
What a blessing to be loved so unconditionally. Sure, an animal is fairly simple intellectually and emotionally, but their love is not a bit less genuine than a human’s. In fact, sometimes it’s better. They accept us despite our flaws. They don’t get offended if we get so busy we forget to say hello, or play with them. They’re always ready to go. (Like Kangadog, my present writing office buddy.)
Makes me wonder: Am I ever such a blessing to my family, to my friends? Or am I full of conditions? IF I’m not too busy, IF I’m having a good day, IF it’s convenient enough, then I’ll take some time to be with you or hang out with you. Am I that way?
Knowing how it blessed me to have someone always there as my #1 fan, I wonder if I could ever be such an edifying presence in the lives of those whom I love.
We could all learn something from cats and dogs.
I’ll leave you with a saying I once heard, “Be the kind of person your dog thinks you are.”
ABOUT THE BOOK
After scattering her mother's ashes in Vietnam, photojournalist Xandra Carrick comes home to New York to rebuild her life and career. When she experiences supernatural visions that reveal atrocities perpetrated byAmerican soldiers during the Vietnam War, she finds herself entangled in a forty-year-old conspiracy that could bring the nation into political turmoil.
Launching headlong into a quest to learn the truth from her father, Peter Carrick, a Pulitzer Prize Laureate who served as an embedded photographer during the war, Xandra confronts him about a dark secret he has kept--one that has devastated their family.
Her investigations lead her to her departed mother's journal, which tell of love, spiritual awakening, and surviving the fall of Saigon.
Pursued across the continent, Xandra comes face-to-face with powerful forces that will stop at nothing to prevent her from revealing the truth. But not before government agencies arrest her for murder, domestic terrorism and an assassination attempt on the newly elected president of the United States.
Darkroom is a riveting tale of suspense that tears the covers off the human struggle for truth in a world imprisoned by lies.
Joshua Graham is the award winning author of the #1 Amazon and Barnes & Noble legal thriller BEYOND JUSTICE. His latest book DARKROOM won a First Prize award in the Forward National Literature award and was an award-winner in the USA Book News “Bests Books 2011” awards.Don’t miss the DARKROOM Book Trailer! http://bit.ly/darkroomtrailer in HD http://bit.ly/darkroomtrailerhd
Connect with Josh at the following:
Monday, June 18, 2012
Brielle went to the city to chase her dreams and found tragedy instead. She's come home to shabby little Stratus, Oregon, to live with her grief and her guilt . . . and the incredible, numbing cold she can't seem to shake.
Jake's the new guy at school. The boy next door with burning hands and an unbelievable gift that targets him for corruption.
Something more than fate has brought them together. An evil bigger than both of them lurks in the shadows nearby, hiding in plain sight. Two angels stand guard, unsure what's going to happen. And a beauty brighter than Jake or Brielle has ever seen is calling them to join the battle in a realm where all human choices start.
A realm that only angels and demons-and Brielle-can perceive.
First, I have to say that I have mixed feelings about this book. On the one hand, I love stories about angels and so this book fulfilled that need nicely. On the other hand, I don't like the whole apocalyptic, end-of-the-world genre and this book kind of had that feel to it. There is a sense of darkness and despair throughout this book, but very little hope. That darkness makes this story very atmospheric, but sometimes it can be unrelenting. I wonder if this was the author's intent. If so, it was beyond effective, but for me, it was just too overwhelming after awhile. It got to the point where I kept wishing for the end of the book, and not necessarily for good reasons.
My misgivings aside, I did enjoy some aspects of the book. It was well written and descriptive, but in a way that drew the reader along into the story and just immersed them in the world of the characters. Speaking of the characters, I just adored Jake and Canaan. All I can say about them is - wow! Wish I had guardians like that. They are both simply amazing characters, extremely well drawn and so noble. I truly enjoyed reading every scene they were in and struggled right along with them. And Brielle is also a well-developed character that you can easily identify with, hope for and worry about. The struggles she endures will have you wondering how she keeps her sanity, even as she discovers some inner power she didn't know herself capable of. The way she grows in this power and just in maturity is handled in a normal, believable manner. Then there's Helene, who is just amazing in her righteousness and beauty of spirit - love her! Of course, every good hero needs a bad nemesis and Damien provides it with a relish unseen since the heyday of Hannibal Lector. This character really gave me the creeps and every time he was on the scene, I cringed for what was about to happen. Bravo, Miss Dittemore, you have created a villain worthy of the worst of the worst in literate and cinematic history.
All in all,this was a satisfying read and I will be curious to see what happens to these characters in the future. Okay, I have to admit I want to read more about one of my favorite characters - Canaan. Please, please, give me more Canaan, I would happily read a book just about him (hint, hint). But I really would like to know what happens with Jake and Brielle, too.
Final verdict: Angel Eyes is kind of like The Hunger Games for the angel set - at least that's the way I see it. Do yourself a favor, read it and make your own conclusion.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Margay Leah Justice: Win a $200 Gift Card From Amazon: What a way to start the summer! Want a chance to win this baby? Just go here for all the details! Good luck!
Whispered by Margay Roberge at 7:05 AM
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Margay Leah Justice: Pushing the Limits - Of My Reading Pleasure!: "I won't tell anyone, Echo. I promise." Noah tucked a curl behind my ear. It had been so long since someone touched me like he did. Why ...
Whispered by Margay Roberge at 8:42 PM
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Margay Leah Justice: Sloane Wolf Excerpt: Shiloh nearly leapt off the sill as his hand touched her knee. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to remain seated and app...
Whispered by Margay Roberge at 3:45 PM