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Sunday, December 16, 2012

Under His Command - New Heart Pounding Fiction from Kristine Cayne

Here's an excerpt of her latest...

Short Excerpt from Under His Command by Kristine Cayne

Something soft and cool slid over her eyes. “What’s this?” she asked, reaching for it.
“Shh… It’s just a blindfold. To heighten your senses.”
Like she needed her senses heightened? He’d already taken her places she’d never been. “I’m not sure about—”
His hand smacking her butt cheek completely derailed her train of thought. “Did you just slap me?”
“That was a spank. Now turn around.” He tied the scarf over her eyes, plunging her into darkness.
She really should resist, tell him to stop. Something. But she didn’t. “Okay. Why should I let you spank me?” she asked. So far this night had been like nothing she’d expected. Jamie was skilled and unpredictable. And she was genuinely curious.
“Because you love it.” His fingers trailed down the crease between her cheeks and dipped into her. Her body convulsed, pushing against his hand to take more of him. What was it about fingers that felt so darned good?
Another smack, this one a little harder, had her trembling. “See how wet you are? How good it feels?” he said.
He was so right.

Under His Command Posted by bloodwebauthor at 9:04 AM 1 comment: 
Monday, December 3, 2012

Paranormal Romance-Suspense in a Historical Setting - Danita Minnis

Danita Minnis

Falcon’s Angel
Two liars, a stolen Stradivarius and a devil-worshipping cult. True love.

In my debut paranormal romance Falcon’s Angel, suspense is just as palpable as romance. Falcon and Angel love but will the devil-worshipping cult il Dragone take that love away again (and again)? In this story of reincarnation will these two liars finally master the repeating tableau?
Mystery and whodunit are ingrained in me as much as the soul-mate theme in my love stories.
If you like a little horror mixed in with your romance, this one’s for you.

Falcon’s Angel – blurb


Naples, Italy

Falcon stood in the shadowed courtyard of the Naples Conservatory.
She left the building right on schedule. She had arrived early and stopped by the panetteria to pick up breakfast. She preferred the sweet rolls. When she left the music school, it was near dark.
Her schedule of classes wasn’t that bad. It was the time she spent practicing alone in whatever unoccupied classroom she could find that kept her there all day. She was dedicated, and very beautiful.
She had bumped into him in the hall two days ago on her way to class, “Scusi, Signore.” He did not know which was more shocking; the sound of her rich contralto or those huge liquid gold eyes, a striking contrast to the waterfall rippling down her back.
He had purposely stepped in her path that day to confront her about the Stradivarius she carried. When he got a better look at her, he smiled “Perdonami,” and let her pass. Her lithe form glided down the hall.
If this goddess is a thief, she won’t have to take anything from me. I’ll give her whatever she wants, and more.
Although he allowed her to see him just that once, he had been watching her ever since. He did not know her name yet, but he called her Angel. Her unusual eyes made her seem like a fairy. Her fluid grace only enhanced the impression of an ethereal wood sprite.
The warm breeze lifting her summer print skirt silenced those thoughts.
Damned if he was not holding his breath waiting for the end of those legs before the gentle curve of her hips.
She crossed the darkening piazza and her full breasts danced under the white camisole top, making his mouth water. She was on her way home now.
She was staying at the Casa di Città on Piazza Avellino and now so was he. The apartment, a few avenues away from the Conservatory, was in the cultural Greco-Roman district, where the buildings themselves looked like archaeological finds.
Falcon emerged from the cluster of fig trees in the courtyard. He stopped when a man exited a side door off the Conservatory. The man started walking behind Angel.
Turning toward the fountain in the courtyard, he gave the man a head start. He fell in step behind the man, who carried no books, no instrument. Is he a teacher, or a lover? No, not a lover. The man didn’t even call out to the girl. He did not know her.
Falcon strolled along, looking into shop windows he passed. The man ignored a streetlight, but Falcon stopped, making sure no one followed him. With an idle shift from side to side, he waited for a car to cross the intersection.
Across the street, a teenager sat on the steps of a closed shop. He’d been there for the last few days. The car stopped at the curb in front of the teenager.
Someone should pick him up.
He would not jeopardize his cover for drug trafficking. He would leave that to the local polizia.
The light changed and Falcon crossed the street, satisfied that the man following Angel was alone.
They were walking through the ancient Roman marketplace, which was deserted now. When the girl got closer to the church built on the site of an old temple, the man began to close the distance between them.
Falcon shook his head as she reached the church corner. She never noticed the man who was just a few feet behind her now. When the man pushed her into the gloom around the church corner, they were lost from his sight. The girl screamed.
Sprinting, he rounded the corner. About ten feet away, the man was trying to wrestle the violin case from her against the wall.
Falcon pulled out his gun and aimed. “Let her go.”
The man turned toward him, and the girl pulled at his ear. The man bent, holding his stomach. He made an inarticulate sound before running away along the side of the building into the darkness.
Falcon darted past the girl and followed the man into the shadows.
What the hell?
Something flitted overhead, darker than the darkness in which he now stood alone. He pointed the Glock upward even as a figure walked up the side of the building. It looked like a black cloud but more solid than it should be.
Before he could get off a shot, the darkness disappeared over the side of the roof.
Staring at the dead end in front of him, Falcon put his gun away. No doors or windows on either side.
Where is the guy? Must be a hidden door somewhere, he’d check it out later.
Falcon turned back toward the girl. Beyond her, across the street, the man he had been chasing got into a car.
“No way,” he murmured as the car sped off. No way could the man have gotten past him in the alley.
The girl had both arms wrapped around the violin case in front of her. She was leaning against the church wall, crying.
lamp flickered on above them, belatedly bathing the passage in revealing light. She did not seem to realize that he was there.
“Did he hurt you, Signorina?”
She looked up. He lifted his gaze from her heaving chest.
“Grazie,” she whispered, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She shook her head. “I am fine.”
“You should not be walking alone at night.” The harsh reprimand in his voice surprised him. She was very young. Her tears wrought such vulnerability that he softened his tone when he came to stand in front of her. “Do you know that man?”
“No, I have never seen him before. But ... he knew me.”
“What did he say to you?”
She looked down at the violin.
He stared at her until she looked up. Ah, she had just found her story. It was in her eyes, and it was not the truth. The fear in her eyes told him that story would never change.
“He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at me...”
Her chest heaved again. He almost smiled; she was having a hard time with this lie.
She stared at him. “You are from the Conservatory. I saw you the other day.”
“Antonio Russo, Tony to my friends.” She did not hesitate to shake his hand, and he did smile then. She might be lying to him but at least she did not see him as a threat. She continued to stare at him. She must want more. “I’m taking classes at the Conservatory,” he added. “I play piano.”
“Oh yes, I’ve seen you in Signor Gattano’s class.”
He had signed up for the class because it was right next door to hers. So, she had noticed him, too. He smiled wider.
“Signorina, I could call you Bella, but that would not satisfy my curiosity.”
She lowered her eyelashes over cheeks flushed the color of the terracotta tiles on his mother’s sunlit patio in . She tanned well for one so light. He almost lifted his hand to touch her cheek. There would be little satisfaction in knowing her name now that her skin was singing a siren’s song to him.
“My name is Angelina Natale.”
“Ah. You are an angel, after all. I have not seen you around here for very long. Did you just fall from heaven?”
He watched her full lips while the sound of earthy laughter, though shaky, amped up the adrenaline coursing through his veins. A vision of her lying naked beneath him, her golden eyes glazed in passion, teased him.
“I am from . I’m here for the symphony.” Her Italian was excellent.
“Angelina Natale, I would be honored if you would let me escort you home.”
She put the violin case under one arm. “I would like that.”
There was blood on her closed fist.
“Are you hurt?” He moved closer.
She moved her hand behind the folds of her skirt and backed into the wall.
He waited, leaning his hand against the wall above her head, inhaling her perfume. A beguiling combination of ... amber, apples and musk. The scent suited her, organic, delicious. He wanted to lift her skirt right now and take her against this wall, those long legs wrapped around him.
Angelina examined the buttons on his shirt that were in such close proximity. Stepping away from him would be cowardly, and he would guess she was made of sterner stuff. When she looked up it was with the defiance he expected from a cornered tigress.
He held her gaze, reaching behind to bring her fist out from the folds of her skirt.
The bloody gold in the center of her palm was a heavy medium-sized loop engraved with a stylized dragon. She had pulled it from the man’s ear and he had not made a sound.
“A memento?” He whispered in English close to her lips.
“I don’t want it. You can have it,” she answered in her native tongue. Now, that was the truth. Her British accent was tinged with a weary sadness. He wanted to pick her up against his chest and carry her home.
She had courage. Even while his mind worked to figure out what her role was in the mystery of the Stradivarius, he admired that.
He couldn’t leave her alone now. Not on a street where men escaped him when cornered in an alley and black clouds slid up church walls.
“Are you hungry?” Their lips were inches apart and he wanted to kiss her, but that would have to come later.
“I forgot about lunch. I had caffe at four. I’m starving,” the beautiful tigress admitted.

Falcon’s Angel is available now

Liquid Silver Books: http://www.lsbooks.com/falcons-angel-p225.php

Find Danita here: Posted by bloodwebauthor at 3:53 PM 1 comment: 
Friday, November 2, 2012

A psychological thriller - Kindred Killers by Gary Starta


Please see excerpt! Posted by bloodwebauthor at 3:28 PM No comments: 
Monday, October 22, 2012 Posted by bloodwebauthor at 10:43 AM 2 comments: 
Monday, October 8, 2012

Romance Author Charmaine Pauls: Fire & Ice

Author Charmaine Pauls writes romance and has firsthand experience to draw from in her novel Fire & Ice...

I was born in Bloemfontein, central South Africa. A hopeless romantic and dreamer, I have always lived beyond the geographical boundaries of reality. Growing up with plenty of stories given birth to by my mind, and a love for writing, it was the natural course of my life to ensue a communications degree from the University of Potchefstroom. I followed a diverse career in all the facets of my degree, including advertising, brand marketing and public relations. Besides handling publicity for opera stars and ballet dancers, developing an international brand of pet food, raising funds for the South African National Council for the Deaf and managing internal communications for a large banking group, some of the more colorful duties I performed as part of my professional path included photographing vegetables, running a graphic design one-woman show, and manufacturing my own range of herbal tinctures. Writing has always been on the top of my preference list, and I am happiest dedicating my time exclusively to creating stories.
As much as my body thrives on food, my soul needs words. I live for the way they weave together in that magical moment of symphonic harmony to become stories. I love opposites (spot them in my book titles!), feathers, jasmine, lavender, music, cats, chocolate and coffee. My motto is to live life to the limits of its six senses. My goal is to achieve that perfect place on life's intricate scale – a place I like to call Balance. And adding a pinch of magic to goal and motto, results in romance. This is what pours from my being through my thoughts, finding its way to my keyboard.
Having previously lived in the ancient and romantic south of France, I currently reside in the majestically volatile nature of Chile with my French husband and world-citizen children. Our household of Babel is a fusion of imagination, make-belief, magic, animals and travel adventure, vividly and enthusiastically expressed in the four languages we respectively speak – Afrikaans, French, English and Spanish.
I hope that you will bless me by enjoying some of my work. Happy reading and living! Between Fire and Ice

Ciro Augusto Dominguez (Cy) is heir to a powerful Chilean copper mine empire. The survival of his future inheritance, Dominguez Enterprise, depends on his ability to produce an heir.
The task is not simple. Infertility has crippled the world population, and fertile females are few and far between. But Cy's mother, Francisca, a brilliant, cold-hearted scientist, has left nothing to chance when she headed the medical team who artificially inseminated and surrogated a fertile woman for her son on his tenth birthday. Now, at thirty years of age, Cy is ordered to fulfill his duty.
Elena, the result of Francisca's secret, successful experiment, was hidden in an icy Patagonian cloister. Her cruel education ensured that Elena submit to her destiny – to give Cy a child –, but it also taught her the secrets of an ancient, magical art of healing that the nuns guard. When Elena is brought to Cy's Atacama Desert estate for the wedding, Cy realizes that, despite his unwillingness to give up his freedom, he cannot escape his duty.
Elena and Cy battle through the emotions and desires that shape their new life together. As their unwanted marriage is thrown into a web of secrets, deceit, abductions and strange magic, their prophesized fate becomes impossible to escape.
The onslaught from a world, desperate for fertile females, and Cy's power-hungry family, can only be stopped by the child that Elena and Cy are supposed to conceive. But can Elena bear to take Cy's freedom in order to save herself? And can Cy give the one woman who can save him her freedom, even if it means destroying his empire?
Playing off against the backdrop of the powerfully diverse Chile, between the magical Elqui Valley that oysters the earth's magnetic center like a pearl; mysterious Easter Island framed by its moai; the majestic, snow-capped Andes mountains; haloed volcanoes; the all-consuming heat of the Atacama Desert; and the frozen, eerie glaciers of Patagonia, unfolds a story of unrivalled desire and love.
Posted by bloodwebauthor at 12:46 PM No comments: 
Monday, September 24, 2012

Dramatic Suspense - Margaret Sarah Bechtel

I'd like to welcome Margaret Sarah Bechtel to the Writers' Blog who writes compelling dramatic fiction. I will let her tell you about her latest in her own words...

I currently have two novels out now, In the Land of Winter, which is about two suvivors of a plane crash that are stranded on a Scottish isle. The problem is, only one of them wants to be rescued.  My second novel Learning In The Dark, was a labor of love and it took over a year to complete.  It's about a young woman who was blinded in a childhood accident.  The theme of the story is about forgiveness; and is it okay to forgive someone who hurt you severely?

I'm working on my third novel, Confessions Of Lillian Maverick.  It's about a teenaged girl with her mother's mental illness.  I'm hoping to a draft ready for my editor in a couple of months.
I currently live in VA where I love to write and spend time with my family.
The following is a synopsis and excerpt of Land of Winter which is being described by readers as full of twists and turns...
Kate wants to forget her past. Lex wants to begin his future. The strangers meet on an ill-fated flight to Scotland, their lives and secrets collide when the plane crashes into the North Sea. Only known survivors Kate and Lex are stranded on an island with an old lighthouse they are forced to use for shelter. Lex is desperate to get them both rescued. Kate is desperate to stop him.
The female attendant from earlier rushed over from her seat. "Is everything all right?"
Kate was dazed and embarrassed, and it took her more than a minute to speak. That nightmare always drained her. "I just had a bad dream. I guess I'm a little freaked about flying." She added a smile to prove she was all right and not insane.
"Well…all right. If you need anything, let me know," the attendant said, already heading back to her seat.
Lex was staring at her.
"Sorry about that."
He was still staring.
"I said I was sorry," Kate said hoarsely. She wondered how long she had been asleep and how long she had been yelling.
"You weren't dreaming about flying." His tone was accusing.

"And you live inside my head?" Kate asked hotly.
"No, but you were screaming your head off. I caught a few things." Lex leaned in. "Tell me. Are you all right? Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"I'm sorry I bothered you, but it was just a nightmare, nothing more." Kate felt lightheaded and knew she was pale.
Lex felt unnerved. He knew something was very wrong, but she was a stranger and he could mind his own business. So Lex turned off his reading light and closed his eyes.
Kate sighed and looked out into the night sky at the stars.
Again, Kate was jolted awake, unaware that she had fallen asleep. Something was very wrong. The emergency lights in the cabin were on, and there was an oxygen mask dangling in front of her. She looked around, confused and finding it difficult to breathe.
Everyone on the plane was screaming, praying, or frantic. Kate was oddly calm, feeling almost drugged. It was just a different kind of nightmare. It wasn't until Lex shoved her mask over her face that she actually considered this might really be happening. He was yelling something at her, but the words weren't making any sense.
This was real.
The plane was going down.
They were all going to die.
Those thoughts kept running through her mind. There was a part of her that was happy to see that Lex put his own mask on, and she smiled to herself. This was a good way to go; her last sight would be his green eyes.
Lex grabbed her hand, and that was the last thing she remembered before hearing the sound of tearing metal.
For more... also check out Margaret's second novel here...
Posted by bloodwebauthor at 9:15 AM No comments: 


Gary Starta's Sci Fi Fan Page 
Gods of the Machines Former journalist now writing sci fi novels. See more at www.garystarta.net
