Book Excerpts: Raven's Kiss By Toni LoTempio

Usually, when one opens a closet door, one expects to see neat rows of clothes, or shelves with sheets or towels, or maybe a vacuum cleaner and assorted pieces of junk jammed into one small space.

What one does not expect to see is an office—desks, filing cabinets, state of the art computers.

Or people, staring back at them.

At one desk sat a woman with an angular face, close, cropped brown hair with gold highlights, a wide mouth, deep set blue eyes. Tiny gold hoops with small diamonds, possibly real, twinkled in her ears, and I noticed her fingers tapped at them quite often. She wore a pair of tight fitting gray trousers and a simple white shirt. Pinned to the shirt was a gold badge. Around her shoulder was a harness, in which reposed a nasty looking stunner.

The occupant of the other desk, however, was what made my mouth drop open.

He had to be well over six feet—I was guessing six three, maybe even six four. You could tell that by the way he was jackknifed into his chair. He was broad-shouldered, with thick hair the color of molten lava drawn back from his face and twined into a casual ponytail. The face was what got me. It was all angles and planes, and looked as if it had been sculpted out of marble by one of the great artists, maybe even Michelangelo. He had a firm jaw, a sloping Roman nose, eyes that were wide set and greener than grass. And the lips—oh, yeah, baby! It was the lips that really got me. Full and sensual, they looked both capable of delivering a threat and kissing a woman into submission. I stared, unabashed, as the man rose, walked over to the other desk, and perched himself on its edge.

Oh, yeah. Definitely six four.

The blonde looked up and waved a sheaf of papers under his nose. “Here’s the latest report, Finn, and it’s dated two months ago. He was last seen downtown, near his usual haunt—the docks—in the company of a young woman, name of Alex Steed. Quinn followed them for a block and a half and then—poof! They went into one of the deserted buildings there and he lost them. Has no idea where Aega could have taken the girl, and no one’s seen either one of them since. If she’s been bitten…” her voice trailed off and her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I hate to think about it—about what she could become.”

The man called Finn frowned, shaggy red brows drawn together in a V effect. He rubbed his thumb against his lower lip and I felt my insides go soft, thinking of his thumb—hell, his entire hand—tracing lazy circles all across my body. I felt moisture between my legs and groaned. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had done that to me. “This has been going on for far too long. We still can’t figure out his game. The only thing we know for certain is—“

“What are you doing in my closet?”

I whirled around, automatically slamming the door shut behind me. Standing in the doorway, accompanied by Randy Hicks, one of the Carolers Falls police, was Jetta. She had her hand on her hip and the expression on her face was most definitely not a friendly one.

“I—Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” I fished my badge out of my pocket, held it up. “Recovery. I was just taking a look around.”

Jetta’s expression softened when she saw the badge. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were an agent. No wonder you came to my aid so quickly.” She smiled. “Most people would have ignored me, a crazy woman yelling on a stoop. If she makes it, it’ll be thanks to you.”

The cop stepped forward, extended his hand. “Randy Isles. We weren’t aware the Recovery had an interest in this case.”

I slipped the badge back in my hip pocket. “The Recovery tends to take an interest in any incident that might involve a demon.”

Jetta’s eyes went wide. “A demon! Really? Is that who attacked Alex?”

The name startled me. “Alex?”

“We all call her Alex. Short for Alexandra.”

I felt a tingle along my spine. “And her last name?”

“Steed. Alexandra Steed.”

I set my jaw. Could it be coincidence the victim and the person Finn and Darla had been talking about had the same name? Was there a chance it could be the same woman?

As I debated this, Jetta moved past me toward the closet. “I can’t stay here—crime scene and all that. So they’re setting me up in a really nice hotel. I just came by for a few things.”

She started to twist the doorknob. “Wait,” I cried, and she turned toward me, eyes wide. “Do you happen to know where your roomie met this man?”

“The one you think is a demon?” Jetta shook her head. “She didn’t know him long—just a few days.” She barked out a short laugh. “First time I saw them, they were huddled right here.” She tapped the closet door. “Twined together so tight you couldn’t’ slip a stamp between them. I didn’t trust him. Something about him…his eyes. She told me I was just jealous, but—guess I was right, after all.”

With that, her hand snaked out and jerked open the door. I bit back a cry of surprise mingled with disappointment.

Gone was the office, the blonde, the sexy redheaded man. Now there were just rows and rows of neatly hung clothes, and an assortment of expensive shoes littering the floor.

About The Author

Hello! I’m Toni LoTempio, author of Paranormal Romance/Romantic Suspense/YA Fantasy! I’ve been writing ever since I was old enough to read, when I didn’t like the endings of the stories my mother read me I simply rewrote them. Even though I write mainly in the paranormal genre, I have also written straight horror, as well as contemporary romance/suspense.

In 1995, I joined the staff of SUSABELLA PASSENGERS AND FRIENDS, a pulp magazine for collectors of antique children’s literature (Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, etc.) Currently I’ve written over 300 articles for that magazine, and I was the first recipient of their Margaret Sutton Award for Distinguished Writing in 1998. I joined the staff of NIGHT OWL REVIEWS IN January 2011 as the suspense reviewer/columnist. My column, DARK STREETS, which features articles on suspense authors and their novels, is featured on a monthly basis. I love to spotlight new talent, so if you’re a suspense author, please contact me!

In 2007, Whiskey Creek Press published BOUND BY BLOOD, a tale of possession, and EBONY, which deals with zombies and the dark side of man. EBONY was #2 on the Fictionwise bestseller list for e-books for the month of July 2007, beating out Stephen King’s Lisey’s Story. (and no one was more shocked than I, LOL) In 2010, after countless attempts to land another agent, I took the advice of a fellow author HP Mallory, and self published NO REST FOR THE WICCA, which has been on Amazon’s list of top one hundred in Occult since March 2011. My short story, THE SACRIFICE, appears in the e-published anthology KISS ME KILL ME, and I also have a YA fantasy, MY SUPERHERO SISTER on B&N and Amazon. A complete listing of my books appears at the end of this bio.

Currently single, I work full time and live in Clifton, NJ, with my muses: Rocco, Maxx, Gata and Trixie. (Rocco is also known as Rocco the SciFi Blogging Cat and has appeared on the SciFi Saturday Night website and radio show, and also on the Kids Need To Read website where he holds the distinction of being the first (and possibly only!) blogging cat to support this charity!)

I love hearing from fans, so please feel free to friend me on FACEBOOK, and visit my website, www.tonilotempio.webs.com Rocco and I post daily M-F on his blog, catsbooksmorecats.blogspot.com

Toni LoTempio Books:

Bound by Blood – Whiskey Creek Press, trade paperback & e-book, Feb. 2007 (paranormal suspense)

Ebony – Whiskey Creek Press, trade paperback & e-book, July 2007 (paranormal suspense)

Witch’s Pawn – Echelon Press, trade paperback & e-book, December 2008 (horror)

Nom de Plume – Whiskey Creek Press, trade paperback & e-book, November 2008 (contemporary romance)

It’s in the Cards – Whiskey Creek Press, e-book, February 2010 – (paranormal romance)

Out of the Ashes – Whiskey Creek Press, e-book, May 2010 – Fantasy

No Rest for the Wicca – Amazon & B&N Pub-It, e-book, September 2010 – paranormal suspense

My Superhero Sister – Amazon & B&N Pub-It, e-book, Trade Paperback - January 2011 – YA Fantasy

Kiss Me, Kill Me – Amazon & B&N Pub-It, e-book anthology –February 2011 – Short Story, “The Sacrifice”

Raven’s Kiss – Amazon & B&N Pub-It, e-book, & Trade Paperback April, 2011 – Paranormal Romance

~~~

Next Stop : June 27 – In The Name Of Books

Book Excerpts: Replay by Keira Lea

Dr. Henry looks down at the file on his desk and jots down a few notes. It’s so obvious he’s trying to mask a grin with that Mr. Serious Psychoanalyst expression. As Mom continues down her standard list of rants, I give Dr. Henry my best please-cut-this-short stare. To emphasize my point, I make the Kelsee puppet strangle the Mom puppet, who collapses in melodramatic death throes on my lap.

“Ms. Lewis, it’s obvious you’re very concerned,” Dr. Henry says, taking my subtle cue. “Would you excuse us for the last part of the session? I’d like to talk to Kelsee alone.”

Mom hesitates. For her, it’s all about calling the show. She doesn’t take direction very well.

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” she finally says. After she gathers her purse and jacket, she lingers at the door like she thinks he’ll change his mind and invite her to stay. No one says a word until she turns around and lets herself out. As soon as the door closes, Dr. Henry lets out a chuckle. He’s really not half-bad for a shrink. I think it’s hilarious that he looks like a cross between Tommy Chong and Steve Martin. I’ll have to ask him if he’s ever smoked weed or played the banjo. Or smoked weed while playing the banjo. Ten bucks says he has.

“Are you still having the panic attacks, Kelsee?” he says.

Our little secret. I work on curling my left shoe strap some more. I don’t know how to talk about what happens to me without sounding like a brain case. I don’t do angst very well, either. I’m more into comedy, laughter as the best medicine, smile through the tears, you know? I’m only here because Mom insisted we start therapy together during the divorce. A year later, she’s still dominating every session. The last time Dr. Henry dismissed her early from a session I told him about the panic attacks, with his express agreement that he would not say anything to her. I even made him sign a piece of paper to that effect. Dad taught me the importance of contracts.

“What are you thinking about?” Dr. Henry says when I don’t answer.

“I really don’t have that many,” I say. “They bore me, anyway. I need an affliction that will really launch my career. A wicked case of OCD would work.”

He refuses to play. “You should talk about them with your mother. Remember, this is a neutral place to discuss issues that are difficult to address at home. She might be more understanding than you think.”

I snort and then cover it with a snicker. “Or not. You know how she is. Neutral is not the precise word I would use.”

He comes around the desk to sit in the chair Mom vacated, giving me a quick pat on the knee like Dad used to do before he moved out last October. “You’re a perceptive young woman. You know that your mother is still struggling with the changes in your lives. That’s not unusual. But if you give her the chance to focus on something outside of her own worries, though, you might be surprised at her reaction.”

I think her reaction would be to jerk up on those puppet strings until the tiny bit of slack I have left is gone. No, I’m pretty sure it would be better to let her stew in her self-absorbed state for as long as possible.

“We’ll see how I feel about that next Friday, okay?” I say.

“You know a secret like this is not healthy,” Dr. Henry says. “Telling her might even help alleviate the attacks.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say. For about two seconds, I want to add.

The clock chimes its digital melody. Time’s up.

~~~

You can buy Replay at

• Amazon
• Barnes & Noble
• Smashwords
  

About the Author

Keira Lea released her debut novel in April 2011. She is a devoted fan of the TV show FRINGE, a card-carrying member of the Apple cult, and a mother to two human children and three feline ones. She is working on a sequel to Replay.

Next Stop: June 20 - The Bookish Snob

Book Excerpts: A Warrior's Witch by Stacey Kennedy

Duty. Honor. Morals.


All these things abandoned Talon’s mind as he stood over the dead body on the ground. The woman’s light brown hair draped over her face, but not enough to conceal her identity. She was no stranger to him. Her face held a bluish tinge, the rosy color he remembered she once had on her cheeks now gone. Whitlyn, his son’s mother.


Talon bent down and brushed the hair away from the Guardian’s face and his heart clenched. An arrangement between him and Whitlyn had been forged years ago, and he never expected when he saw her again it would be to find her dead. At the time she lived in the Otherworld, she’d proven herself to be one of the greatest female warriors. But the battles wore on Whitlyn. She wanted a life without death and violence. Knowing the stakes it cost the Otherworld to have her gone, she offered a solution, presented herself to bear Talon’s child.


Now, the woman who gave him such a gift had lost her life.


“Oh, Talon.” Zia’s voice came compassionate above him. She rested her hand on his shoulder in a loving embrace. “I’m sorry.”


Talon couldn’t find the strength to look at his witch. Yes, she belonged to him now and hadn’t condemned his heart with guilt when he made the agreement with Whitlyn, yet he drowned in sorrow over the reality. He hadn’t once regretted his choice. Not only had Kyden proved to be an impeccable Guardian, but a wonderful son. However, seeing Whitlyn in this condition tore at his heart.


“It’s not me to be sorry for.” He’d always suspected Whitlyn’s actions came from the duty she felt she owed to the Otherworld, but he also believed the solution a viable one. It gave back to their forces, while it allowed Whitlyn to live in peace in the Earthworld among the humans and leave her position as part of the Council’s guard. Talon never understood her desires. His duty as Master of Guardians, part of the Council, was now and would always be to the Otherworld. To protect the Earthworld from supernatural beings who wished to cause them harm. His thoughts weren’t of humans at the moment, didn’t stray on his responsibilities as a leader to the Otherworld. His only concern remained on Whitlyn.


Sighing, he glanced at Zade, the Master of Vampires, who stood off to the side of the modest home located in the Near South Side of Chicago. “What happened to her?”


Zade shook his head, sending his coal hair to drape across his forehead, his dark eyes perplexed. “Right now, I know about as much as you do. I sent Finn to this assignment after the Chicago PD contacted us.” Supes were well established in the Earthworld law enforcement for just this reason. It gave them an in on supernatural murders. “When Finn discovered it wasn’t a mortal who died, but a Guardian, he came back to inform us. He found me instead. Thinking I could handle the matter myself, I came here and recognized her immediately.” He glanced down to Whitlyn. Sadness resided on his expression. “You must understand my reasons for coming to find you.” His gaze came back up to meet Talon’s. “Do you want me to go and get Kyden?”


Talon pondered. Zia and Talon had been resting when Zade had come to their residence. Being odd that Zade asked them to assist on an assignment instead of letting one of the guard deal with the matter as they usually did, Talon knew something had gone terribly wrong. It wasn’t often the Masters needed to intervene. Their guard held strong, protected the Earthworld on most cases without their assistance in person.


It was true his son Kyden was part of their guard—both him and his mate, Nexi, were elite warriors within the Otherworld, but Talon hesitated involving him in this. The secret of his birth hadn’t been kept a secret from Kyden, but he never discussed it with anyone. Talon doubted even Nexi knew of his mother. He always equated it to the fact that she didn’t exist in Kyden’s eyes—to disown one’s duty to the Otherworld was the gravest of all betrayals. Talon never harbored ill feelings toward Whitlyn for her choices. The battles could be trying at times, and she sought refuge from all the death—he’d never judge her for those wishes.
Talon’s pause was more centered on the uncertainty about how Kyden would respond to the sight of his dead mother. So many unresolved emotions surrounded Whitlyn. Too many in Talon’s own soul to even make sense of now. Determined he only had one choice, he shook his head. “No, leave him out of it.”


“Talon,” Zia exclaimed.


Her curt tone forced his gaze to hers and he encountered an unhappy expression on his witch’s face. Even with her grimace, though, she still exuded beauty. Long strawberry blonde hair flowed around her flawless skin and her stunning blue eyes that he’d never grow tired of admiring. Yet, he had a point to make and he would make it clear. “All Kyden knows of his mother is that she wanted a life away from danger and those are the reasons she gave birth to him and left, never to return. Kyden and Nexi were bonded mere weeks ago. I won’t ruin their joy with this news. Besides, they’re away on their travels enjoying some peace they both deserve.”


Exactly why Whitlyn wanted out. Danger never stopped, and his son had had his share of it lately. Nexi, being a mixed being of Guardian, Witch, and Fae—her magic had blossomed, making her stronger than any supernatural being known in the Otherworld. With those gifts came a world of trying times. His son choosing her as his love brought evil to take center stage in their lives. Luckily, his son lived through the dangerous events, as did Nexi. Peace wasn’t given to them; they earned it, and Talon didn’t want to bring strain to their lives. He didn’t have the heart to darken his son’s happy moment. “We’ll handle the assignment, find out what happened to Whitlyn, and I’ll tell him when they return.” After Talon sorted out how he felt on the matter and had all the answers to explain it all to his son.


“You will tell him though, yes?” Zia probed.


“I will, but I don’t want him to see her like this.” Talon’s heart ached, for Whitlyn and Kyden. He sympathized with why Whitlyn had left the Otherworld. He’d seen it before in Guardians and supernaturals who chose to work for the Council. The hard times wore on them. Yet, he’d never felt as she did. He belonged in his role.


Even though he had no relationship with Whitlyn and there had never been love between them when they spent a month together producing Kyden, he respected her. The time they’d shared was a wonderful memory. He hated to see her life stolen from her. It left an empty gap in his heart and he wondered how in the world he would tell Kyden his mother had died.


“The vamp who met Finn here had no knowledge of what had taken place,” Zade said, “and if he would have told us sooner that it was Whitlyn who lost her life, I would have acted faster.”
Time was always a key factor. The longer it took them to locate the killer, the more distance he or she could put between them. But Talon didn’t worry about that so much. His only focus right now centered on what took place here. “Zia, do your magic and show us what happened here.”
“Of course.” Zia raised her hands, and the wind picked up in the room as her magic called to replay the moment Whitlyn’s life ended. Her talents, gifted from being a Spirit Witch and Master of Witches, gave her enough power in that beautiful body of hers to astound Talon more than once.


Within only moments of the first call on her magic, the scene shimmered into view. Talon placed his hands firmly on the floor to steady himself. Whitlyn stood before him, pale; her eyes shone with terror as her body trembled in fear. However, nothing stood there to give reason for her fright; no one around her caused her panic. Talon scanned the simple living room a few times over, yet still nothing. No murderer.


A gasp brought Talon’s focus back to Whitlyn. She now rested on her knees close to him. Her breath strained as her chest rose and fell in heavy movements. Confusion stole his thoughts. “Am I missing something?” His attention remained on the dying Whitlyn.


“No. Why is she dying?” Zia gasped.


Whitlyn fell down on her side, her breathing rapid and forced. As much as Talon wished he could intervene, he held no power to do so. The vision was a moment from the past. Whitlyn had already died.


Within a few short minutes, the vision settled on the same one Talon came upon when he entered the small, humble home. Whitlyn lying dead. He tried to make sense out of what he saw, but couldn’t. Nothing appeared to have killed her. She hadn’t appeared to be stabbed nor had any visible wounds, although he suspected someone had caused her death. Not an empty room. Feeling beside himself, he glanced at Zia. “Did you make sense of any of that?”


“Not at all.” Zia shook her head, her eyes wide, baffled. “Do you think she did this to herself?”


The thought, too horrible to even imagine, was one Talon didn’t think possible. Whitlyn had always been a strong warrior. Her actions proved she wasn’t selfish. When she left the Otherworld, she could have just walked out, but she provided her body, her impeccable genes from a long line of warriors, to give back to her world. Whitlyn had never been a woman who acted with such selfishness. “I cannot fathom it. She doesn’t seem the type.”


“But you haven’t seen her in well over twenty-nine years,” Zade countered.


How time flew. It felt like only yesterday when Whitlyn gave birth to Kyden, kissed him goodbye, and left. In just a year, he’d reach his immortality and no longer age. It might have made Talon sentimental if the current situation didn’t take precedence. “That’s true. It has been many years since I’ve seen her last. It’s quite possible she could have become another woman.” Talon hummed. “Still, to take her own life? Why would Whitlyn choose such a fate for herself?” He placed his hand on Whitlyn’s forehead and her cold skin chilled his palm. His heart bled for her. “If you have done this to yourself, I’m sorry you didn’t trust in us to come home and get you the help you needed. If someone has hurt you, it’s my promise to you that I’ll find out who and deliver their punishment on your behalf.”


Silence filled the room and Talon appreciated it. His mind ran rapid with thoughts of whats and whys. Finally, after a long moment, Zade cleared his throat, bringing Talon’s attention to him. “I note a strange scent around her, but I cannot place it.”


As Guardian, Talon didn’t have the enhanced scent capabilities Zade possessed as a vampire; only impeccable warrior skills had been granted to him. He couldn’t smell anything unusual here. Inhaling deeply for good measure, he sighed, unable to catch a trace of it. “I’d suspect whatever you are scenting is what caused her death.”
“A very strange occurrence,” Zia offered.


Talon agreed. Clearly whatever Whitlyn had either taken—or been given—claimed her life. However, the question remained, what was it? Never in all his years had he ever seen a death in this manner. The fact this was so personal made urgency flare to life, but brought something else with it too.


After a little squeeze of his hand on Whitlyn’s frigid flesh, he closed his eyes and felt an entire world of guilt rest upon his shoulders. He’d find out what happened because he owed Whitlyn that and so much more. She’d given his life meaning in giving him a son. Gave him something he never thought he’d have as a Master. An oath he’d taken long ago to always put the Otherworld first. A personal life wasn’t in the hopes and dreams of a Master. Their role, their nightly-life centered on keeping the Earthworld protected.


Zia was his heart, no doubt about it. What they were now, merely lovers, is what they’d always be. Being bound as his son was to Nexi would never been in his future with Zia. He’d long ago accepted that fate. And now, to the mother of his son, he made a silent promise of justice for all she’d given him.


Talon whispered his final goodbyes to Whitlyn, stood, and looked at Zia. “Let’s take her to someone who might be able to identify this unknown killer.” He reached down and gathered the lifeless Whitlyn in his arms. Talon might have only given her a passing thought over the years, but he mourned her death now.


~~~


About The Author

Stacey Kennedy is an avid lover of the paranormal romance, urban fantasy and erotic romance genres. 

If she isn’t plugging away at her next novel, tending to her two little ones, she’s got her nose deep in a good book. She lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband.

Be sure to drop her a line at www.staceykennedy.com, she loves to hear from her readers.

~~~

About The Book

Decades old guilt collide with a murder, igniting a battle in a warrior’s soul to choose between love and duty…

Murder has brought Talon, Master of Guardians, as well as Zia, his witch and Master of Witches, to Chicago. The manner of death appears to be a suicide, but Talon is far from ready to close the case. To avenge the Guardian linked to his past, he agrees to take on the assignment, and find her killer.

As they dive deeper into the investigation, they find themselves entering a world where BDSM is the norm. A lifestyle that Zia is uncomfortable with and, rattled by this new development, she is more than ready to return to the Otherworld. But their investigation quickly takes an unexpected twist when they discover that they’re not only hunting a killer but also someone who is controlling supernaturals in Chicago.

Their mission not only brings danger, but also forces Talon to deal with decades old guilt that corrodes his soul. Every event that unfolds only deepens his fight and pushes him to face an ultimate choice—what is more important—his duty to the Otherworld or the witch he holds closest to his heart?

Buy A Warrior Witch here .

Next Stop: June 17 – Alise On Life

Book Excerpts: The Day the Flowers Died by Ami Blackwelder

Sunday, November 8, 1931

Rebecca and Eli ambled down the chilly sidewalk hand in hand, their bodies close enough to keep each other warmer than if they walked alone. Rebecca fiddled with her rose colored knit hat her mother gave her. Benches lined the sidewalk outside the park and they cozily sat side by side on one in the middle.Eli wrapped his arm around Rebecca and saw her nose turning a fast red. He rubbed it with his hands, a task Rebecca was becoming familiar with. Laughing at her easy vulnerability to the cold, he took off his long strapped, leather brown bag carrying a few books and laid it across his legs. He took out a book, laid his head on her lap and gazed up at her. Though certainly taboo, being around her made him feel free. Caressing his face, her fingers touched his cheeks and forehead and then circled around to his chin.

“Feels like you've missed a shave again,” Rebecca remarked without feeling she would offend him.

“You are a very perceptive young woman.” He raised an index finger in emphasis.  “I'll have to remedy my error later.”

“No error,” she smiled wide.  “I kind of like it, all rough and manly.”

She lowered her head to his and Eli planned to give her a peck on the lips.  Yet, after their lips touched, he lingered there and then laid his head back on the warmth of her lap garbed in a thick dark wool skirt.  Eli opened the book.

“Who are we reading today?” Rebecca asked.

“Heinrich Heine, a German poet of Jewish origin.”

“Oh.” Rebecca teased with catty intonation.

“Are you mocking me?” Eli asked halfheartedly with the look of sensuality in his dark brown eyes.

“I really do love poetry,” she insisted. Eli flipped through a few pages and read aloud, loud enough for her to hear and soft enough for the words to travel through the ears of the strangers passing by.

E'EN as A LOVELY FLOWER

     by: Heinrich Heine (1799-1856)

E'en as a lovely flower, so fair, so pure thou art;

I gaze on thee, and sadness comes stealing o'er my heart.

My hands I fain had folded upon thy soft brown hair,

Praying that God may keep thee so lovely, pure and fair

“There is something about his words. The poetry...the words...are  captivating,” Rebecca whispered, elating Eli by her enthusiastic approval.

“He is one of my favorites. He blends French modernism with German sentiment.” Eli turned the page to Heine's bibliography and read the line quoted at the top without so much as a waver in his voice.

 “Where one burns books, one will, in the end, burn people.” Eli opened his mouth about to say something political, but before he could, Rebecca interrupted his thought.

“Read me some more of his poetry,” she asked like a child with a bedtime story. Gazing at her blue eyes that matched the sky, he turned the page to find another poem. “I really like this poet,” she said in her naïve age, never hearing of him before today and not fully comprehending the significance he had for Eli.

“He’s more than a mere poet. He’s a writer and political-religious thinker of Paris. Have you read him?”

Eli educated Rebecca as she shook her head no and then he spoke in audible softness.

As you can see on the banner. Don't forget to stop by her site to enter the giveaway. You can get bookmarks with signed copies of shifters of 2040 and Hybrids of 2020 AND bookmarks with a signed copy of The Day The Flowers Died.

If you can't wait any longer, you can grab The Day the Flowers Died at Amazon

Do not forget to check the next stop : 

June 17th - We Fancy Books

Book Excerpts (+ giveaway) : Hedgelend by Ann Nyland

Book Blurb

Hedgeland, an urban fantasy of time travel. Dr April Neuland, a Professor of Ancient Languages turned non-fiction writer, has been plagued by dreams all her life, dreams of her past life in the Otherworld. Meanwhile, in a parallel dimension of April's past and Caridwen's future, Worthing, a Future History Professor, has allied with the Military to access Future Internet communications and use new technology to influence April to write an ebook novel revealing where she, in her past life as Caridwen, hid the Kiste, a device to travel through time and space. Hedgeland weaves all three time/space frames: Caridwen, Worthing, and April. Hedgeland is the first in the Hedgecraft Sequence, but is a fully self contained novel with no cliff hangers

Book Excerpt

Chapter 3. Worthing.

"Welcome to the Faculty of History seminar on Caridwen and the Kiste. I will hand you over to Dean Bellamy who will introduce you to today's speaker, Professor Worthing."

"Thank you, Professor Woods. People in Future times are aware of the Kiste and will give it different names, such as The Golden Bough and The Silver Branch. The Silver Branch is often associated with sacred apples. While not all of you are Future Historians," Bellamy broke off, nodding to Worthing and Fields, professors of Future History at the Scientificarium, and then sweeping her arm in the general direction of their senior students, "all of you do have some knowledge of the Future worlds, Greece and Rome. The Future Roman writer Virgil will write a poem in which the Sibyl - a Seer - says Aeneas needed to carry a sacred branch to enter the Underworld. He was not able to enter the Underworld without it."

Bellamy held up a hand to silence the murmuring her comment had provoked.

"Yes, it is clear that there is some general memory of our world carried into Future civilizations' mythologies. To continue, in Virgil's story the ferryman refused to carry Aeneas over the river into the Underworld until the Sibyl produced the Golden Branch. In the same way, Future worlds will say that the Silver Branch is a passport to Tirn Aill, the Otherworld, and that at times certain faerie women led mortals to the Celtic Otherworld. This is particularly significant for us, since our civilization is later interpreted as the Celtic

Otherworld, as we all know.

"Now I will turn you over to Professor Worthing to present to you his paper, 'Branching out into the His-Tree of Caridwen.'" Some people giggled at Worthing's awful pun; others just looked perplexed.

"Thank you, Dean Bellamy," said Worthing, a Future History professor well liked by all his students for explaining academic matters in a lucid manner and, better still, interspersing them with jokes, most of which were adult rated. "My paper is not too scholarly as we have students from the Faculties of Humanities and Sciences here today.

"The Kiste was of importance to our ancestors, for with it they were able to travel between Caer Sidi and the primitive Otherworld.The Kiste which the Mabinogi stole was of greater importance to them as they used it to travel not just through space, but through time. Our ancestors were unaware of this until just before the Cataclysm. Our details from that period are sketchy, as most documents were destroyed in the Cataclysm.

"Future peoples will also realize the Kiste to be important, although only through their race memories. The Future Greek philosopher Pythagoras will say the letter 'Y' is like life with its dividing ways of good and evil, and he will identify it with the mystic symbol of the branch which initiates such as Aeneas offered to Proserpine in the Otherworld while out of their physical body. We were able to procure a Future Text - for those of my students here, it's Psy.Pyth 8:2 - and I quote, 'He was not allowed to go to the Shades unless he had the Branch to hold up.' Again to my students, you will note that the Future Greek expression 'the Shades' will often be mistranslated in Future Time as 'Rites of Proserpine,' and Proserpine is the Future Roman name for Persephone. More of this in class tomorrow. Yes it's early, but I expect to see you all there."

Now for the giveaway

Ann is agreed to give away one lucky winners chance to be a character in her next book. All you have to do is leaving comment in every blog post including my post. Check the list of blog tour participants here.

Don't forget to check the next blog stop at Book Lover's Hideaway

About the Author

Author Dr Ann Nyland was on Faculty at the University of New England, Australia.

She is a grammar pedant, ancient languages translator, and best selling non-fiction author of such books as The Complete Books of Enoch; Angels, Archangels and Angel Categories: What the Ancients Said; The Book of Jubilees; A Devil of a Job to Find Satan in the Bible, among others.

Guest Post : Character Interview - Pan from Bloodmaiden

Another guest post is here. This kinda special because this is the first time I have a character from a book.  Today,  the Zalian Circle interviews the sprite, Panganiban—known to friends as “Pan”—during her quest to collect the four legendary Aria of Sulaimon:

1. What is the truth behind the horrible rumors floating around the other three dynasties concerning Sulaimon’s northernmost dynasty—Tynan?

Whatever rumors you hear are true, only magnified a hundredfold! Little of Tynan’s darkness seeps beyond its borders; few know its true horrors, save the sprites whose witness is considered as unsound as our changing emotions and powers and the woodland animals who cannot bear witness. Beyond that, ignorance, denial, and tradition keep others from believing or, in many cases, even hearing the tales of Tynan.

Tynan houses a “sacred” ritual, one involving a grave sacrifice, giving dawn to the endless cries of children and their mothers and fathers. There were once traditions in Tynan that were purer, more wholesome, as in other dynasties. But Tynan is now tainted with evil—and with blood. As to the details of its horrors, I prefer not to speak.

2. How did you meet Crisilin and become involved in her quest?

I once knew a dear friend to the horrors of Tynan. I have been seeking a Quelda ever since then who would have courage to flee Tynan and take a stand to help prevent future losses like her. I have sent the young ladies visions of how their lives might change if they chose to flee. Only Crisilin has followed my summons, and I follow her to avenge that lost loved one and hope to keep any others after Crisilin from the same harm.

3. Please explain to our readers what exactly the Aria are.

We search for the Aria because it is said that, in the beginning, when a truce was made between the human and dragon races of the four dynasties, that the Aria were set up to protect those treaties, protect the people. They are said to be magical songs which, when combined, have the power to heal all wrongs in Sulaimon. That any such power could be strong enough to wash away the evil in Tynan...

4. What kind of sprite are you; what are your powers?

I am an Earth sprite, but my powers shift from region to region. For sprites, Sulaimon is criss-crossed with invisible regions; when a sprite crosses a borderline, their bodies and powers change. For me, there are only five regions; for others, there are many more, which confines them to one area if they hope to have powers at all, for the powers of a new region can take time to completely take effect.

5. There seems to be some sort of special connection between you and that Brydon fellow. Can you explain this?

Brydon and I were once old friends. We traveled much together, but we parted ways after a great...disagreement. But our personalities have always been at odds. If anything “special” once existed between us, it is no more, save that tension and anger and unforgiveness hangs thick like the most noticeable storm cloud.

6. What challenges and hopes await you as you continue your journey?

There remains three dynasties to face. Zale was easy; it has always been known as the friendliest and most accepting of the dynasties. Of Gauthier and Varden though, even I know relatively little, perhaps because they seclude themselves more from the rest of Sulaimon. As for Tynan itself...only Usamah, Great Lord and Creator of All Worlds, can protect us there...

Yet, there is hope. Crisilin is a phenomenon amongst us, her courage shedding light into corners whose shadows I thought untouchable long ago. I am proud to stand with her and follow wherever her path leads—whether to the end of us all or to our salvation and that of Tynan.

Check  The Wormhole on May 19th for the next blog stop 

Also check another blogs who are participating in theBloodmaiden tour here

About the Author: 

Christine E. Schulze has been creating books since she was too young to even write them in words. Her collection of YA fantasy books, The Amielian Legacy, is comprised of series and stand-alone books which can all be read separately but which weave together to create an amazing fantasy. Her fanatsies also incorporate many other genres, such as Christian fantasy, romance, and even a spark of horror at times. She hopes to inspire readers throughout the world with these books by publishing in both traditional and electronic formats to make them available to all readers.

Christine has published several stories with Calliope and Kalkion magazines and is an active member of the WEbook online writing community. She has also published several Christian/fantasy books which are available at various online retailers, as well as publishing several eBooks via Writers-Exchange.

Her latest and most exciting venture includes her publications with Old Line Publishing: Bloodmaiden and Tears of a Vampire Prince: the First Krystine. She also anticipates her upcoming publication with Old Line, Lily in the Snow, as well as releasing The Chronicles of the Mira with Writers-Exchange in both paperback and electronic forms.

Christine currently lives in Belleville, Illinois in her first and most thrilling apartment. 

Check Christine's website to find out more about her