Friday, December 19, 2014

Awesome Gift Ideas

I stumbled across this website earlier in the week.  It may have existed for a while, but I had no idea.  It's freaking AWESOME!  It's called ThinkGeek, and it has an array of awesome and amazing things.  If you're still looking for some last-minute gifts, I would check it out.

OR, if you want something else unique, what about signed copies of books from an indie author?  I have several copies available, and I can take payments through Paypal.  Contact me if you are interested in any of my books or contact your favorite author to see what they can do for you.


I hope you all have a fantastic weekend!

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Christmas Reads: Werewolf Puppy Sci Fi Book by Juli Monroe

Today's featured Christmas Read is a sci fi-fantasy, The Case of the Werewolf Puppy (The Warlock Case Files Book 2) by Juli Monroe.





About the Book:


I've said it before. It's tough being a gay warlock in Washington D.C. And hanging out with my vampire buddy hasn't made it any easier. A tentacled demon killing people near the Washington Monument followed by a naked werewolf puppy on my doorstep? Really? This isn't something the local pound can take care of, so once again it was on me to figure it out.

Sure, the vampire helped me out a bit, but hey, you all know who the real hero of this story is, right?

Links:

Amazon.com -
Barnes & Noble - Blog - Facebook

Inspiration:


    When I write, I usually start with a “what if”? My “what if” for this book was “What if my main character came home at dawn, saw a puppy in front of his apartment, and that puppy turned into a little boy.”

I love this particular excerpt because it’s the beginning of a scene that wasn’t supposed to happen until the next book in the series. Paul, my vampire character, had different ideas, and he said something unexpected, which led to here. It’s still one of my favorite scenes in the series.

The set-up is that Paul needs Dafydd's help reading the aura of some of the vampires. This scene actually has little to do with the book it’s in, but it’s foreshadowing for the next book in the series.

Excerpt:



Paul and I entered the lounge, and a burly gentleman at the door checked our IDs. I glanced around, trying to keep the two parts of my sight (aura and human) separate for a moment. I wanted to get a feel for it as a physical place before I "looked" at it with my other senses.

It was a nice enough place. The bar was circular and large, with three bartenders busy serving the crowded front area. Small tables and round chairs dotted the room. Three big screen TVs dominated the far wall, tuned to sports channels and news. Loud music hammered through speakers. Mostly 90s rock. Not quite my taste. I was more into dance and electric.

The color theme was red, which I thought explained the attraction to the vampire crowd. Lighting was dim enough to be comfortable while still allowing you to see. And, trust me, there was plenty to see.

I immediately recognized I was in the presence of a group of predators. Mostly they seemed to be restraining themselves, but I saw the occasional flash of overly long fangs. Women prowled by in flowing dresses, except for the ones in skin–tight clingy black things. The men ranged from formal wear to jeans and t–shirts. Not surprisingly, black and red were the dominant colors, though a few were daring in blue or deep purple.

That was just the colors of the clothes. When I looked at their auras, I saw even more. A dark, vibrant green flashed from the aura of a male vampire, arguing with another. A female vampire, her expression smug, looked on, her aura shifting between an unwholesome red and a sickly green–yellow. Near the bar, another vampire’s aura caught my eye. It was shot through with purple and blue, and I guessed he was young and not yet completely lost to evil. Or he was like Paul and didn’t completely embrace everything about the vampire lifestyle.

Paul nudged me down the short flight of stairs to the front room. "What do you think?" he asked, his voice pitched low.

"How can the humans here fool themselves into thinking this is normal? Can’t they feel the atmosphere here? I mean, even without aura sight, I’d know this place was a hunting ground."

He sighed. "And we’re actually on our best behavior here. You should come by a private meeting some time."


I shuddered. "No offense, but I’d rather not."



Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Christmas Reads: Jean Rabe's Sci Fi book, The Cauldron

Today's featured Christmas Read, The Cauldron, is from author Jean Rabe, co-written with Gene DeWeese.




About the Book:
The sight of the woman’s angry, tear-streaked face emerging from the mist wrenched a painful gasp from him… If he could remember her name, then surely everything else would fall into place. 

Shelly? Ellen? Sarah? 

But those names, appearing soundlessly in Carl Johnson’s cowering mind meant nothing to him except that they triggered waves of panic and sadness. 

----- 

The line between life and death, the present and the past, becomes so transparent to Carl that his world is a miasma of memories bordering on madness. But he must make sense of it all if he is to save the world. 

The Cauldron is a near-past science fiction novel, the collaboration of New York Times Bestselling Star Trek author Gene DeWeese and USA Today Bestselling author Jean Rabe. 



Links:

Amazon.com - Barnes & Noble
(coming in print in January)

Inspiration:

The book once called Mnemorphosis
by Jean Rabe 

There’s a spaceship inside, aliens, an elephant, and the Civil War . . . oh, and a love story, too. How wonderful is that?
Not in a million light years would I have thought to combine those elements into a science fiction novel.
In fact, I wouldn’t have thought to attempt this book. Well . . . I did write it, you can see my name on the cover illustration. I mostly write fantasy, and I dabble in urban fantasy and modern-day adventure yarns. I love to read science fiction, but I haven’t written a lot of it.
So how did I end up writing what I consider an amazing book?
Gene DeWeese called me one day some years back.
Gene was one of my writer-buddies and at the time (‘cause I used to live in Kenosha, WI) a fellow Cheesehead. I’d met him many years ago when we both wrote books for TSR (he, Ravenloft, me, Dragonlance). I had read his books even years before that, and I’d invited him to a lot of the anthologies I edited. Gene wrote just about anything . . . contemporary, fantasy, horror, and science fiction. And he wrote all of it well. He was a New York Times Bestselling author, and he was known for his Star Trek novels.
Gene had a novel fragment in his computer that had been vexing him. Its working title was called Mnemorphosis, but it didn’t sit well with him, as he thought readers wouldn’t pick it up. He wanted to turn that fragment into a full novel, but he didn’t seem up to finishing it on his own. He asked if I’d like to tackle the project.
Dear God yes!
Although I usually work alone, I’d collaborated with Andre Norton and John Helfers, and had great fun doing so.
Working with Gene DeWeese was a dream. He had such an incredible imagination . . . hence the elephant and the Civil War. And he had such an elegant, beautiful, gentle soul. I cherished every day I spent working on The Cauldron, and every phone conversation and e-mail I shared with him. I wanted to get the book “just right,” just the way he’d envisioned it. And I managed to weave my own elements and side-trips in it too. Part of it is set in Wisconsin (familiar to both of us) and Indiana (where I’d lived for a time when I was a news reporter and he’d lived many years ago). So it was a perfect coauthor pairing.
The endeavor wasn’t without its difficulties. Gene was suffering with a form of dementia (and was well aware of it; he’d lament to me about things he couldn’t recall and memories that had been scattered to the winds). The disease claimed him before he could see The Cauldron in print. I’d like to think that his scattered thoughts helped make The Cauldron so wonderful. When you read it, you’ll see how so many disparate elements combine to tell one story.

Reviews:

“THE CAULDRON is a stunning effort, aglow with interesting venues and incidents, and three characters I wish I knew personally. A fine job by Ms. Rabe and the late Mr. DeWeese.”
– Mike Resnick, five-time Hugo Award winner

“THE CAULDRON is a gripping, fascinating journey through what seems at first like one man’s nightmare—impossibly far-fetched yet eerily plausible. I couldn’t stop reading until it was done. Wow, what a book!”
– Ed Greenwood, creator of The Forgotten Realms

Excerpt:

The sight of the woman’s angry, tear-streaked face emerging from the mist wrenched a painful gasp from him.
“I’m sorry,” he managed, not knowing why or how he spoke, or who this guilt-inspiring stranger was. Her name, he thought abruptly. If he could remember her name, then surely everything else would fall into place.
Shelly?
Ellen?
Sarah?
But those names, appearing soundlessly in his cowering mind meant nothing to him except that they triggered waves of panic and sadness.
“At least stop lying to me,” the woman said abruptly. “You could at least do that much.”
Unfamiliar faces and shapes and colors crowded around her then retreated.
“I would if I could,” he heard himself say, the words emerging haltingly in an accent and a voice that were surely not his own.
“Will you ever come back?” she shouted through motionless lips. “Will you—”
The rest of her words were driven from his mind as her features changed. Not just her expression, but the features themselves. Her lips became fuller; her cheekbones rose. Tiny crows’ feet appeared around oval eyes that had already shifted color, from pale brown to sparkling green, as if they could be any shade she—or he?—desired. Tendrils of gray escaped a tightly wound bun of once-black hair that had, moments before, been shoulder-length and reddish brown.
“I don’t want to go!” This time the words came in his strangled voice. His throat was tight, as if the mist had become suffocating, congealed and invaded his lungs with a cargo of death. “You have to realize that. I want—”
“Then don’t go,” she said, reaching out to him. “Stay here with me, forever. You can!” Her anger was now as strong in her voice as it had been in her eyes.
But as her fingers—short and work-worn, where moments before they had been long and slender—touched his arm, he knew with utter certainty that the choice was not his to make.
Not yet.
But if the two of them could work together . . .
Hope surged. He knew he possessed great mental strength. And somehow he knew she did too. If only they could pool their knowledge and abilities . . . .
But he didn’t even know her name, nor if she really existed anywhere but in the shards of his own shattered memories and in this mist. This dream or nightmare.
Once again he fought to grasp the recollections as they spun around him like leaves in a rising storm.
Shelly? Ellen? Sarah?
Only the pressure of her touch remained, and even that was just for a jagged moment longer. The sensation faded as his own body seemed to literally dissolve until he was little more solid than the fog itself.
A shadow in an ocean of mist.
What is happening? Where am I?



About the author:



Jean Rabe is the author of 30 fantasy, adventure, and mystery novels, a heap of short stories, and has edited a few dozen anthologies. She shares her office with three dogs and a cantankerous parrot. Visit her at www.jeanrabe.com.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Christmas Reads; Austin Camacho's Police Thriller Beyond Blue

Today's featured Christmas Read is the police thriller, Beyond Blue, by Austin Camacho.

www.ascamacho.com


About the Book:



Beyond Blue is a detective novel about a privately funded detective agency whose only purpose is to help police officers who are in trouble.  The novel follows four of the agency’s cases, which overlap and intersect: An undercover officer is in danger of really being drawn into a life of crime, a crooked lawyer is destroying police careers by making arresting officers appear to have violated criminals’ rights, a cop’s wife accuses him of abusing their daughter, and a retired police detective who is now in charge of airport security could lose his job because of drugs being smuggled in through JFK International.  Pursuing these cases is a team of unique and intriguing detectives.


The agency’s director, the enigmatic Paul Gorman, sits at the center of the action, pulling the strings to direct all of his detectives to solve their cases and cover each other.


The concept is held together by Paul Gorman’s mission statement: “Those sworn to protect us sometimes need protection themselves.  To defend the boys in blue when they are in danger, sometimes you have to go beyond blue.”

Links:

Amazon.com - Barnes & Noble

Excerpt: 


Don't you think this is a little  extreme, sugar?" she asked him.  "I mean, I been stuck in this house for two days.  But then, so have you.  Ain't you feeling a little cabin fever?"

To her surprise, this solicited a small smile from the Peruvian terrorist.  Perhaps he was reachable.  He didn't move when Ruby walked toward him.  He was her height, mildly handsome, and quietly muscular the way the best fighters are. 

"Look, how about you open the door while I stand way back here?" Ruby asked, adding a little silk to her normally squeaky tones.  "That way I could at least see the outside."

"Look out a window," he said.

"My Lordy Lord, he can talk!"  Ruby flashed him her most brilliant, heart-stopping smile.  "Come on now.  We can work something out here, can't we?"

The guard shook his head, but he looked a little uncomfortable, like he didn't know what to do with his hands.  Ruby raised her own left hand toward him causing him to flinch.

"Oh, now, I won't hurt you, honey," Ruby said.  "You're too cute."  His smile grew by a couple of degrees, and she took that as permission to continue.  Very gently, Ruby drew her hand down the man's cheek, inhaling as if it were a special thrill for her. 

The guard was a little off balance, but he didn't react as if he were threatened in any way.  In fact, he winked at her.  No, his right eye was blinking.  He reached up to rub it. 

"What's the matter, sugar?"  Ruby asked.  "Something in your eye?"  Maintaining a non-threatening tone she reached up again, cradling his cheek in her right hand while rubbing her thumb across his left eye as if to clear it. 

"Ahhh!" It was a low howl of pain.  The guard bent almost double, covering his face with his hands.  He didn't know why, but of course, Ruby did.  Capsicum, it's called.  The active ingredient in pepper spray is the same chemical that makes your eyes water and your nose run when you bite into a real hot pepper.  Good cooks learn very quickly not to touch their faces after dicing those peppers.  To do so can subject a person to a paralyzing burst of intense pain.  By not washing her hands after preparing dinner, Ruby had armed herself with a homemade chemical weapon.  It was not a weapon of mass destruction, but it was powerful enough to buy her the three seconds she needed.

About the author: 

 Austin S. Camacho is the author of five novels in the Hannibal Jones Mystery Series (including The Troubleshooter, Blood and Bone, Collateral Damage, Damaged Goods and Russian Roulette) and four in the Stark and O’Brien adventure series (The Payback Assignment, The Orion Assignment, The Piranha Assignment, and The Ice Woman Assignment) and the detective novel Beyond Blue.

After leaving the Army he continued to write military news for the Defense Department as a civilian. Today he handles media relations for DoD and writes articles for military newspapers and magazines. He is also deeply involved with the writing community. He is a past president of the Maryland Writers Association, past Vice President of the Virginia Writers Club, and is an active member of Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers and Sisters in Crime. The Camacho family has settled in Upper Marlboro, MD with Princess the Wonder Cat and their dog, The Mighty Mocha.

Monday, December 15, 2014

Christmas Reads: Cozy Mystery Roses Daisies Death, Penny Petersen

Today's featured Christmas Read is a cozy mystery appropriately set near Christmas - Roses and Daisies and Death, Oh My! by Penny Clover Petersen. (What's better than a book with a dog on the cover?)




About the Book: 



It's almost Christmas. Shop owners Daisy Forrest Greene and her sister Rose Forrest are gearing up for the holiday season, but someone is making mischief in Old Towne. Break-ins, vandalism, poison pen letters, a hormonally-exuberant watchdog, what could be next? Murder, of course. Could life get more merry?

Links:



Inspiration:


My mother got my sisters and me hooked on cozy mysteries when when we were pretty young. We all loved them. So when I started writing I wanted to write a cozy that included a lot of family interactions. I also had a strange menagerie of pets growing up and loved their crazy antics. So I created a small town where two sisters, their nutty mother, and goofy dog could have fun and uncover mysteries. This excerpt is just a little taste of the sort of things that these ladies get up to.


Excerpt:


Just as they were looking through the piles of books, there was a commotion on the porch. Malcolm was barking like a dog possessed and a young policeman from the Bostwick force was standing at the bottom of the steps.
Daisy ran out and said, “Malcolm, quiet!” and Malcolm immediately shut up and sat down. Daisy ruffled his head and undid the leash. She looked at the man and said, “Sorry. He’s excitable. Thank God you're here.”
“I’m Officer Willis and I’m checking out a 911 call from this address. Are you the person who called?”
“No, I'm Daisy Greene. My sister and I own a shop around the corner.  Hazel Monroe called. She's the owner here and her shop's been broken into. Someone ransacked the place and killed her cat! Please come in.”
Officer Willis and Daisy walked in and found Rose and Hazel sorting books. Rose said, “Hazel’s trying to see if anything is missing.”
Hazel looked at the young man and said, “Hold! I was put on hold! What if someone had still been in here? What then? It could be me, not my little Roscoe, lying in that coat.”
They all turned toward the coat to see Malcolm humping poor little Roscoe. Hazel let out an anguished howl, Rose uttered a stream of words referring to Malcolm's parentage in an unfavorable light, and Daisy was about to grab Malcolm's leash when a flash of orange fur leaped out of the coat and onto the highest shelf in the room. Hazel gasped, then drooped ever so gracefully onto a chair.
“You said he was dead,” hissed Rose to Daisy as she helped Hazel up.
“He looked dead. He was all floppy. What? I'm a vet? Besides I think Malcolm brought him back. He must have the gift,” said Daisy.
“The gift? What gift would that be? Sex maniac gift? Necrophiliac gift? Malcolm's a humper. That is exactly what he is. No wonder they told Mother that he didn't get along with the other animals!”

“Ladies, could someone just tell me what's going on here?” asked Officer Willis.

About the author:
  
 Penny Clover Petersen started writing at age 59 on a dare from her husband. She lives in Bowie, Maryland with her husband, Tom, and three feral cats. Her favorite thing in life is spending time with her family. Her next mysteries, Roses Are Dead, My Love, will be released April 1, 2015. 






Sunday, December 14, 2014

Christmas Reads: Thriller Chain of Evidence by DB Corey

Today's Christmas Read is the thriller, Chain of Evidence, by DB Corey.    



About the Book:


They say the evidence never lies, but an aging Detective Moby Truax thinks it must when he takes on the toughest case of his career.  A killer of women roams the streets of Baltimore, and the evidence remains consistent but the victims do not. Truax suspects a copycat, but his young captain turns a deaf ear and endeavors to replace him. As victims become younger, prettier, FBI Special Agent Frances Vecchio is assigned to the case and launches her own investigation into the Cyanide Killer. With Vecchio interfering with his every move, Truax struggles to overcome the only flaw in his theory—the evidence itself.


Links: 
Amazon.com - Barnes & Noble 


Twitter: @dbcorey
Facebook

Excerpt:

Jade began to fidget and cry, Annie looked up, and Audrey began bouncing Jade on her knee. It did little to appease the child.
     “I think she’s getting hungry. Can we go next door? I want to make her some lunch.”
     “Sure. We’ll go with you.” Truax got down on one knee. “Thank you, Annie. Only a big girl could be so much help.”
     Without another word, Annie slid off the sofa and ran back into her room as fast as her little feet would carry her. After Audrey made sure that her apartment door would not lock, she started across the hall to Kara’s apartment with Jade on her hip. Truax and Vecchio trailed her by a couple of steps. As they went, Truax’s mind was working.
     Bottle…. Bottle…. She must have meant the poisoned water bottle Johnson found in the sink.
     When they stepped into the kitchen, Audrey placed Jade in her highchair. Fetching a clean bottle from the dishwasher, she filled it with formula and sat it in the pot still sitting on the stove. She turned the burner on low.
     “Why not use the microwave?” Truax asked the question, but was pretty sure of the answer he’d get.
     “Oh ... Kara never trusted it for the baby. Always heated her bottle on the stove.” Jade continued to cry and held her arms out toward the counter.
     “What sweetie?” Audrey asked.
     She turned and saw that Jade was reaching for her water bottle. “Oh, you want some wa-wa?” She placed the bottle on the tray. 
     Jade picked it up and, once she found her mouth, began to drink. Audrey continued.
     “I’m sorry Annie couldn’t be of help, Detective, but she’s just little, and….”
     Audrey saw that Truax had stopped listening.
     “Detective?”
     Vecchio‘s head snapped around when Truax didn’t answer.
     “Moby?”
     Truax ignored both women. His eyes were fixed on the sink and the flashing red LED on the water filter. He glanced over to Jade happily drinking from her bottle, and saw the water level decrease with each swallow. His eyes shot back to the faucet and the flashing red warning light, then again back to Jade’s bottle.
     Something ate at him, gnawing away at his insides like a parasite. If Kara didn’t trust a microwave to heat her baby’s milk, would she give her water from a dirty filter? Especially when she had a bottle of commercially filtered water?
     Truax exploded across the room startling both women. In a blur he lunged at the highchair, and Jade.
     “NO!”
     Audrey stood in stunned disbelief as Truax slapped the half-sized bottle from Jade’s hands and sent it flying across the kitchen. Vecchio froze not knowing what to do. Truax snatched up the startled child knocking over the highchair and sprinted to the front door, leaving the two women mouths agape in the kitchen.
     Running outside he saw the ambulance with Kara’s body turning the corner two blocks away. Then he spotted Johnson getting into his car.
     “Johnson! … JOHNSON!”
     “Yeah, Moby.… What?”
     “Do you have a poison kit?”
     “A poison kit? No, I don’t usually carry—”
     “Get the paramedics back here, NOW!” He turned and nearly knocked Audrey down after she overcame her hesitation and followed him out. He grabbed her arm hard enough to leave bruises. “Did she use vitamins?” Truax screamed. “B-12! DID SHE HAVE ANY B-12?”
     “B-12? I have some, but why—”
     “GET it! Right NOW!”
     Suddenly panicked by the intensity of his outburst, Audrey rushed back into her apartment with Truax on her heels. Vecchio, hearing the exchange was already in the bathroom ripping open the medicine cabinet and rifling through the medication. She found the bottle of vitamin B-12 capsules.
     “Dump them in the sink,” he commanded Vecchio, shoving the baby into Audrey’s arms. “Hold her! Open her mouth!”
     Grabbing several capsules from the sink, Truax broke them open. Seeing Audrey struggling to get Jade’s mouth open, he forced the baby’s jaws apart with the thumb and forefinger of one hand and poured the powder into her mouth with the other. Jade cried and squirmed and tried to spit it out.
     “HOLD her! God-DAMN IT!” He dumped water into her mouth and clamped her jaw shut, closing off her nose at the same time and forcing her to swallow.
     Audrey stood horrified holding a writhing Jade in her arms. She turned the child away in an attempt to protect her from a madman. “What in the HELL are you DOING to this BABY?” she screamed.            
     Truax’s light gray eyes bored into her like a drill. His face hardened, but his voice did the opposite, commanding her attention. “This child will be dead in minutes,” he said softly, “if you don’t hold her still.”
     Audrey’s mouth dropped open as if the muscles holding it closed had suddenly vanished. She did as ordered and Truax gave Jade another dose. The paramedics arrived moments later.
     “Treat her for cyanide poisoning,” he ordered, “and HURRY!”
     The medics hustled Jade to the living room and held an inhaler of amyl nitrite under her nose. They followed up with dosed, intravenous injections of sodium nitrate and sodium thiosulfate.
     Afterwards, they hurried her to the ambulance and rushed her to the hospital. As they pulled away, Truax watched from the doorway and ran his fingers across his bald head, a nervous habit that replaced his old one of reaching for his cigarettes without thought. Until lately. 
     When they walked back to the kitchen, Truax picked up the water bottle, unscrewed the top and gave it a sniff. There was the faint aroma of almond. He screwed the lid back on and tossed it in a zip-lock baggie he found in a drawer, then began patting himself down for the pack of cigarettes he knew he didn’t have.
     “Jesus, Moby,” Vecchio said, shaken to the core. “How the hell did you know?”
     Truax turned and leveled a pair of tired eyes at hers.
     “I’m a cop, Frankie. I’m supposed to know.”

   About the author: 
 
DB Corey lives in the suburbs of Baltimore with his lovely wife Maggie, and their two annoying dogs: an oafish Chocolate Lab named Murphy, and Bond (James Bond), a Catahoula-Leopard/Australian-Shepherd mix. Between them (the people, not the dogs), they have five grown children who have become: A carpenter, a federal legal aid/nutritionist, a Baltimore City cop, and two college students.

Since writing a novel does not guarantee wealth, or even a decent living, Mr. Corey and his wife remain at their day jobs to keep the roof over their heads and food on the table, most of which their five grown children (who no longer qualify as legal tax deductions) happily relieve them of whenever the opportunity avails itself ... usually on weekends.


Saturday, December 13, 2014

Christmas Reads: YA Paranormal Romance Prophecy by Julie Anne Lindsey


Today's Christmas Read is a YA [paranormal romance from author Julie Anne Lindsey




About the book: Prophecy book 1 (Calypso series)
Prophecy, book 1, Calypso series

On the other side of death, is destiny.

Callie Ingram is spending her senior year focused on one thing: swimming. Her skill as a competitive swimmer is going to secure a scholarship and her future, or so she hopes. She has big plans, and Liam Hale, her gorgeous new neighbor, isn’t going to affect them. But when Callie sees Liam beheading someone, she learns his family has a secret that will change everything. The Hales are Vikings, demi-gods who’ve been charged by The Fates to find their new destined leader.

Callie’s caught in the middle of a budding Norse apocalypse, in love with Liam Hale and desperate to protect her best friend—who the Hales believe is marked for transformation. Putting the clues together as fast as she can, Callie discovers she has the power to rewrite destiny, for herself and all humankind.


Amazon          B&N               Kensington                 iTunes


Teaser excerpt: The Kiss

   “Come on in.” The look in his eye stirred something in my middle, as if he’d issued a challenge.
I dove in. Under water, my hazy mind cleared. My limbs felt alive. I broke the surface rejuvenated.        “Oh my goodness. I feel amazing.” I blinked salt water from my eyes.
   “I’m glad.” Liam treaded water, closing the space between us slowly.
   My fingertips traced the white scars on his chest. “Do you mind?” I glanced into his eyes, barely able to break focus on the luminous lines over his chest. They called to me. Whether because their shape was so familiar or because it broke my heart to think someone had carved into him this way.
   “No. I don’t mind.” His breath shuddered over the words. “How do you see the runes?” His fingers encircled my wrist, stopping my hand against his skin.
    “It’s the same one on the tombstones. Why’d you do this?” I flattened my palm over his heart.    “Was it because your father died?” I bit my lip and shut my eyes. He hadn’t told me about his father.    “I researched you online and I read about your dad. Was that the reason you moved?”
Liam released me. “You see the runes on the tombstones as well?”
   “Yes.” Discussing his dad’s death, his move, and his scar were apparently off limits. I swallowed my irritation as I tallied up the things we couldn’t talk about. Fine. Maybe I could figure out what the rune meant without his help. “I grew up wandering the cemetery, collecting acorns and buckeyes. Mom took me for picnics when I was young. The kids played there in grade school. When they stopped, I kept going. It’s my quiet place. I think there and walk Chester there. I have chalk rubbings of almost all the stones.”
   His eyes widened.
   “The runes never come through. They’re smooth.”
   Liam blinked, unspeaking.
   “Did you do this to yourself?” I touched his scar lightly.
   “No.”
   My eyes flashed to his. I hated this option worse than any other. “Who did?”
   His soft green eyes darkened. “I will answer your question on one condition.”
   My heart jumped. “Okay.”
   Liam lifted a palm to my cheek. Watching me closely, he slid his other hand to the back of my neck, cupping my head and bringing me closer in the warm salt water. He brushed his thumb over my lips and lifted my chin with his fingers. “Still okay?”
   I nodded, hoping I wouldn’t forget how to swim or breathe.
    His lips whispered against mine with feather light pressure, testing me.
   The dusting of his lips ignited something inside me and worry washed away. I inclined my chin, pressing my mouth to his, savoring the electricity flowing through my veins. Liam’s lips parted.    “And now?”
   I draped my arms over his broad shoulders and curled my fingers into his hair. “Still fine.”


Callie’s in good hands, I promise….you know, in case you were worried for her. I hope you enjoyed the teaser and will consider reading more about Liam and Callie. 


 About the author:

Julie Anne Lindsey is a multi-genre author who writes the stories that keep her up at night. She’s a self-proclaimed nerd with a penchant for words and proclivity for fun. Julie lives in rural Ohio with her husband and three small children. Today, she hopes to make someone smile. One day she plans to change the world.