Soooo Ready to Fall Into Winter by Alicia Dean

Yes, I love winter. I know, I know, people think I’m crazy, and perhaps they’re correct. (For many reasons, not just because I love winter :)) I love the cold and the snow. One of my favorite things is to be snowed in, as long as I have power, food, and wine (not necessarily in that order).

I don’t like it when my kids are out on the roads. I worry about them, and I don’t like it when people are harmed or lose power. However, sometimes, snow storms are unfairly given a bad rap. For example, this morning, I signed onto my computer (that’s the only way I get the news. I never watch it on tv or read a paper anymore) to see this headline:

Death Toll Climbs in Massive New York Snowstorm

As it turns out, this headline was a bit misleading. When I looked at the article, I discovered the death toll was 4. (That’s not so much of a climb as it is a tiny step). And, one died from an accident (accidents happen even in the best of weather). Three died from heart attacks while shoveling snow. Not to minimize the sadness of those deaths, but you ask me, to blame the ‘climbing death toll’ on the weather is stretching it just a little.

I live in Oklahoma, where we seldom get really ‘bad’ snowstorms, at least not more than one a season or so. Maybe I would change my mind if I lived in Buffalo, New York or Minnesota, Wisconsin, some of those places that really get hit with winter weather. Honestly, I don’t think I would. I really hate summer, hate sunlight and hot weather. I think I should have been a vampire.

Speaking of vampires, it’s kind of ironic that, as much as I love cold weather, when I finally wrote a vampire book, I set it on a tropical island. I was looking for a unique twist on the vampire stories, and I thought, vampires on a sunny, beautiful tropical island is definitely different.

Book 1 in my Isle of Fang Series, Liberty Awakened, is currently on sale for 99¢…(click on the cover to be taken to the Amazon page)

Liberty Delacort doesn't believe in Vampires. Then she meets the father she never knew, just before his death, and learns she's the last of the Van Helsing bloodline. 

Eli, a 300 year old Vampire, doesn't believe Liberty has what it takes to stand between the humans and the Evil Ones on Sang Croc Island, and orders her back to the mainland. 

Ryan, a friend of Liberty's late-father, disagrees and insists that Eli provide the promised training. 

Now the Full Moon has come and Liberty must stand in the gap. But unbeknownst to her--she's fallen for the wrong vampire. 

REVIEWS: 
"An adventure where vampires rule. Liberty is delightful [and] we get a hero and anti-hero. It's tough to choose between the two." ~ Reads and Reviews 

THE ISLE OF FANGS SERIES, in order 

Liberty Awakened 
Liberty Divided 

Snippet:

Liberty braced her hands on the door, intending to step back. Before she could, Eli lifted his head and whipped it toward her. He couldn’t have heard her, could he? She’d barely made a sound. Maybe he just sensed—

Her thoughts ceased when she took a closer look at Eli’s face. He stood in place, breathing heavily. She narrowed her eyes. God. No.  His features were somehow distorted, his skin had a gray cast and looked…crumpled. His eyes glowed red. Something dark and liquid—blood?—was smeared around his mouth, dripped off his…fangs?  

“No!” She let out the cry before she could stop herself, then clamped a hand over her mouth.

Backing from the door, she shook her head violently from side to side. It couldn’t be. No way. She had to have imagined it.  A sound at the door told her Eli was coming out.

She turned and fled. Her tennis shoes slapped the ground, the noise reverberating in her ears along with the word—vampire…vampire…vampire. Oh my God. Vampire… Bats… Drained…

Fall into the Spirit of Crazy! by Jannine Gallant

It's almost that time of year. We're all falling gradually into winter. Thanksgiving will be here before you know it, and as soon as the turkey leftovers are eaten, I lose all my marbles and start decorating for Christmas. I know, I know. Most people share my insanity. Right? But does everyone spend two solid days decorating--not counting the tree, which comes later since I refuse to go fake?

I, Jannine Gallant, am a Christmas Village junkie. (Hangs head in shame.)

It isn't just the houses, which wouldn't be so bad. It's the fake snow and all the little figures that give each scene such a festive touch. Then there are the lights. Extension cords and light strings are hidden behind the displays in a diabolical arrangement that should require an electrician. I just keep my fingers crossed and hope I don't short-circuit the house...or the neighborhood...with my addiction.

I wasn't always this way. My mother-in-law, a lovely woman who adored Christmas, started me on the path to over-decorating. She had well over a hundred of those gorgeous Christmas Village houses. Her home was covered in them through the holidays, and she left them up until Easter. Then, after her four Children married and had kids, she began pawning them off on us...a few at a time. Manageable. When she passed away, the remaining dozens of houses were divvied up.

Are my husband's siblings compelled to put them all out every year? Uh, no. I'm the only crazy in the family it seems. My daughters roll their eyes. My dog gets mad because I won't let anyone throw balls in the house for the month and a half the Christmas houses reign supreme. (Yes, I'm forced to take them down by mid-January.) However, I love having them up. And maybe one day, when my girls are past the eye-rolling teenage stage, they'll appreciate the tradition. Somewhere down the road, I'll get to pawn them off on them!

Happy Thanksgiving to all...and may you have a wonderful time decorating for Christmas!

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Fall into the Right Hands by Betsy Ashton

Sometimes, fate puts its head in your hand. Sometimes, a face takes one look at you and chooses you for life. Such it was over four years ago when Stella met Terry.

We had been in the hunt for a new kitty, since our previous kitty, a sixteen-year-old Calico with an attitude, had crossed the Rainbow Bridge three months earlier. Trip after trip to no-kill shelters never presented a kitty right for us.

Then one Friday, Terry and I went to a no-kill shelter in an adjacent county. Terry went into the room with the adult kitties; I played with the kittens. While the kitten room was full of precious little bundles of fur, Terry never left the adult room. Kitty after kitty checked him out. One sleepy kitty jumped down from an open cage and sauntered over to have a bite of kibble before she approached. She sniffed his sneakers and his jeans before jumping onto the bench where he sat. She put her head in his hand and lay down beside him. Stella had chosen her forever family.

Neither Terry nor I like Stella as a name. I could see myself doing a Stanley Kowalski and run down our street yelling, "STELLA!" We tried a series of names. Terry favored Spike but she was too soft a kitty to be Spike. We tried other names until we decided on a color-based name. Stella turned into Mocha.

Her personality gradually emerged. She's a bouncy kitty who loves to play and be chased. Mocha morphed into Mocha Java, Mocha for the color, Java because she one caffeinated kitty.

We added one more name: Smokin' because she can vanish like smoke. So, we fell in love with Smokin' Mocha Java, our forever kitty. And she fell in love with her forever family. She gives so much love, even when she 's standing where she shouldn't. She's not supposed to sit on Terry's keyboard tray. I tell her "no" but Terry is indulgent. And so she sits, pretending she belongs on the tray. Smokin'  Mocha Java just said "meh," which is her way of telling me to cope. Sigh.

###

Betsy Ashton is the author of Mad Max Unintended Consequences available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. The second book in the series, Uncharted Territory, will be released in June 2015. She lives for words and writing and a kitty.

The First Cowboy to Fall by Donna Michaels

 

Happy November, everyone! Using this month’s theme topics, my post about my upcoming Christmas release (available for preorder) could actually ‘fall’ into a few of the categories.

 

 

 

Fall into Winter:

HARLAND COUNTY CHRISTMAS takes place from the end of August to December, spanning through fall into winter.

Blurb

Accounting major Jen has one more year to earn her Masters before she graduates and moves out of Harland County to find a corporate job and maybe a good-looking businessman to boot. Cowboys were handsome and fun, but they didn’t stick. Neither did ranch hands. Experience has taught her they come and go, and some took a piece of her heart with them. Well, no more handsome, sexy, cowboys. She wanted a stay around, stable, lifetime type of guy.

Then she returns to the family ranch after a ‘hurrah to summer’ weekend with friends to discover Brock, the hot, one-night stand she’d given herself permission to enjoy, is the new ranch hand. And dang it, she’s just as drawn to his sexy grin, gorgeous green eyes and quiet strength. As the summer ends, classes resume, and the holidays near, the handsome, alpha cowboy has her rethinking her future. So does the unborn baby she’s carrying. Maybe sticking around Harland County isn’t so bad—if she could get Brock to stay, and break out of the ‘leave Jen and move on to another ranch’ mold. 

Fall Overboard:

Set in Texas, this novella has my hero Brock Kincaid falling ‘overboard’ into a sea of debt his grandmother incurred from his late brother’s illness.  He did not plan to fall ‘over-his-head’ in love with the heroine. But, that’s just how I like to roll. 

After the Delaneys left, he helped Jen carry the tea and glasses into the house and had to fight the urge to touch the woman. She’d been beautiful, and sweet, and caring, and he just wanted to soak it all in. Jennifer Dalton was a breath of fresh air he hadn’t realized he’d desperately needed.

He set the glasses in the sink and turned to find her watching him by the center island, appreciation swimming in her eyes.

“Thank you.”

He reeled back. “For what?”

 “For being so nice to the Delaneys.” She set the pitcher on the butcher block counter and smiled. “Some people have trouble.”

“I know,” he agreed, completely floored by her insight. “I had a younger brother with special needs, and believe me, I’m well aware of the narrow-mindedness of the human race.”

Frowning, she stepped close to touch his arm, her fingers warm, and soft, and reassuring. “Where people mean?”

“Some were downright rude, others were very nice. Like you.” He cupped her face and stared into her fathomless eyes. Those gorgeous, sapphire eyes. “Cody would’ve liked you.”

Smiling, tears spilled down her face. “I’m glad.”

His heart cracked open. He was falling. Sunk. So far over the damn edge he couldn’t find a foothold. Pulling her close, he brought his mouth down on hers, tasting and drinking in her sweet essence. This is what he’d needed. This was what had haunted him for weeks now. Her hot, sweet taste, bold tongue, warm curves. She moaned and burrowed closer, slipping her hands under his shirt, touching, stroking him everywhere as he returned the favor. 

Fall from Grace:

My heroine Jen Dalton never intended to fall from grace but her anxiety over her deployed cousin, raised as her brother, coupled with a margarita or three, add in a sexy, kind, concerned stranger, and they equal her first ever one-night stand.

Jen’s insides twisted into a tight knot at the mention of her cousin. He grew up at Shadow Rock, and was more like a brother than cousin. She loved Kade just as much as Kevin, and now he was in harm’s way.

Again.

The horse-whisperer had joined the Texas Army National Guard before he’d graduated high school, and eleven years later, he was still in. This was his third deployment, and with each one, she worried more, slept less, and admittedly wasn’t handling this one well. Always glued to the TV for updates. Days.

Nights.

Registering for classes had even been tough, especially with the mention of casualties in battle on the news. How the heck was she supposed to concentrate after hearing that? She’d managed, barely, then allowed her roommate and friends to persuade her to join them for a much needed ‘summer hurrah’ last weekend.  But, even at the laidback gulf resort, her gaze had been glued to the TV above the outdoor bar.

Until he sat down next to her.

Not her type. Hair a little darker than Sonny’s, smoldering green eyes, strong jaw covered in five-o’clock shadow, which were all actually pretty great, really great. The guy was gorgeous. It was the T-shirt, Levis and Stetson she didn’t like. He was a cowboy.

She swore off cowboys. And ranch hands. And any guy with anything to do with the rodeo circuit.

Especially clowns.  No clowns. They were just…wrong.

But he wasn’t. No. The stranger was a little bit of all right, and by morning, he was no longer a stranger. About the only thing they hadn’t shared were names. He’d called her sapphire and she’d called him cowboy, but once they’d gotten a room, they hadn’t done much talking.

HARLAND COUNTY CHRISTMAS
Prequel Novella

Releases Dec. 1^st and is available for PreOrder  now!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00O3PON5G

**Need VOTES! I have 2 books nominated in BTS Magazine's Red Carpet Book Awards/Reader's Choice 2014 in the Romance Category!!**

If you've read HER UNIFORM COWBOY or HER FOREVER COWBOY and feel one deserves a vote, I'd sure appreciate the support! And if you like them both, but aren't sure which to pick, then I'd like to ask you to please vote for HER UNIFORM COWBOY to give the National Guard some recognition. Thank you!!

Voting is open until midnight November 21st!

http://btsemag.com/redcarpet/2014_ReadersChoice_Romance.html

Thanks for reading,

~Donna

Fall into Winter by Alison Henderson

Soon it will be winter. Even here in Carmel, which has to be the mildest climate on Earth, you can feel the seasons changing if you pay attention. The leaves don't change and fall, like they do elsewhere, but the signs are all around us. I no longer miss a sunrise if I sleep a little later. It's now dark while I fix dinner instead of while I clean up. We've had a few tentative rainfalls, but with luck, the wild winter storms will start blowing in from the sea before too long.

Before they do, I have a few gardening chores to take care of. As much as I hate to do it, I need to cut back my magnificent purple fountain grasses. This one is more than waist high!

I will also cut the flower stalks from my kangaroo paws--favorites of the hummingbirds.

I don't technically have to cut anything back, but I know if I do I'll be rewarded next spring with lush new growth. It's part of the cycle of life that's so important to us gardeners.

I'm also looking forward to evenings by my new fireplace, tucked under my favorite afghan. It never gets really cold here, but the fire and afghan give me a good excuse to keep the temperature down in the house. Last year everything we brought from Minnesota was still in storage, and we spent Christmas in Chicago with our daughter. For the first time in forty years I didn't have a Christmas tree.

Well, that isn't happening again! We'll put up the outside lights in a couple of weeks, and I'll find new places for all my Christmas decoration. I may not see snow this year, but I plan to enjoy winter just the same!

Alison
www.alisonhenderson.com
http://alisonhenderson.blogspot.com

Fall Overboard

We had a small sailboat for three years. While we did have our super awesome perfect days out on the Atlantic, we also had some hardships. The very first day we went out, the engine malfunctioned as we were motoring away from the marina and I found myself at the helm—sailing—before I was quite ready to be in that position. The Husband was below deck, trying to change the impellor and hollering up commands to me.

You see, HE was the one who took the sailing lessons at our community boating center. HE was the one who was in the Coast Guard Auxiliary. HE was the one who should have been tacking and winching and furling.

Not me. Not me who can’t even swim.  

Talk about white-knuckled grip on the wheel and praying to Poseidon to go easy on us. I did the best I could and yes, there were some choice words flying about like hungry seagulls. I tried my best to NOT imagine myself being flung overboard and heading straight for Davy Jones’s Locker.  

I did the only thing that made sense. I let the author take over. I was not a frightened suburbanite with absolutely no experience navigating a ship over the waves. Instead I was a fearless young woman in the 1500s during the Age of Exploration. I’d heard tale of the New World and was headed there to start truly living my life. I was leaving the ties of land behind me, braving the unknown waters between England and the distant shores of the Americas, and not looking back.

As I kept the vessel tuned to the wind, my young adult novel, Sail With Me, was born. I turned my experiences into fiction and added a boatload of adventure. The Age of Exploration is truly a fascinating time in our world history, particularly the encounters between the Europeans and the natives of the lands they explored. In Sail With Me, I made up a fictional empire, the Sunal, based on the Aztecs.

Here’s the back cover blurb:

What would you do for an adventure? 

Left back home in Southampton, England while her father and brothers explore the high seas, Charlotte Denham works as a maid and spends most of her days dreaming of sailing. She wants to explore the New World. She wants to be noticed. Tired of her family’s absence and being denied work on a ship because she’s a girl, Charlotte takes matters into her own hands. 

Charlotte expects to make her dreams come true. What she isn't expecting is Daniel Connor, fellow crew member aboard the Rose or Tizoc Metztli, exotic warrior of the Sunal Empire. Both have her feeling things she’s never felt before. Both notice her. Both need her. 

When a gold-thirsty conquistador invades Tizoc’s empire, Charlotte must defend herself and the people she has come to love. Is she strong enough to shed blood? Is she strong enough to finish this adventure?

The following excerpt is just after Charlotte gets her bests friend, Benjamin, to cut her hair and help her look like a boy to gain passage on a ship bound for the Americas:

I fell asleep at my house that evening and when I awoke in the morning, I slipped into my disguise, tied the shell necklace around my neck, and wasted no time getting to the Rose. I could not believe the sheer size of the vessel. Wide planks of dark wood covered her hull. Four thick masts, stripped of their sails at the moment, jutted out from the deck. The ship herself resembled a fly caught in a spider web. Braided lines extended from the perimeter of the ship and were secured into the sand by large wooden stakes. An enormous, rusted iron anchor was lodged in the sand beside the vessel.  

After checking myself over, I jogged down the dock until I reached its end. I jumped into the sand and walked toward the ship. Before I reached the vessel, a man approached me. His shirt had been stripped away, and he had a white-knuckled grip on a mallet in his right hand. He swatted at a mosquito hovering around his sweat-laden head.

“What do you want, boy?” Two brown eyes narrowed at me.

“Hello, sir.” I bowed my head. “Are you Captain Finley?”

“I am.”

“I was asking around the docks if any captains sought extra hands before they sail out. Someone said Captain Finley was and his ship was careened on the south shore.” I pointed to the ship behind him.

Captain Finley studied me as a fresh sweat broke out all over my skin. Why did he have to look so closely at me? It didn’t matter if he recognized me as Charlotte Denham. If he suspected I was a girl—any girl—I was out.  

“What skills do you have, son?”

“Clean, cook, fish, trim, and repair sails. I’m a hard worker, and I know how to take orders, sir.” Was I trying too hard? Had I said too much? I glanced up to Captain Finley’s face once then returned my gaze to the ground between us.

“You sound like a real catch with all those skills, if you indeed have them.” He grabbed my chin in his rough hand, angling it to get a better look at me. His calloused thumb pressed into the bruise on my jaw, and I swallowed the pain. “What happened to your face there?”

“Accident, Captain. Somebody bumped into me.”

He pursed his lips. “You’re not the fighting type, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Don’t need any hotheads on my crew.” He grabbed my shoulder and gave me a good jostling. “Only one final question then.”

“Aye, sir?” So close.

“What do you do if a man goes overboard?”

Was this one of the trick questions Edward Scarsdale had mentioned outside The Copper Pot? Did Captain Finley want a serious answer or was this a test?

I cleared my throat and said, “If he’s too foolish not to sure his footing, then he’s extra weight we didn’t need.”

Captain Finley barked out a laugh and slapped a hand down onto my shoulder. I swear I sank at least to my ankle into the sand.

“You’ll do, son. That’s my ship yonder, the Rose.” He gestured toward the careened vessel. “What’s your name?”

“Charlie, sir. Charlie Hamden.” Did he notice the waver in my voice?  

“Well, Charlie Hamden, it’s good to meet you.” He extended a filthy hand to me.

I took his massive hand in mine and shook it. He held onto it for longer than I expected, and the quaking in my stomach nearly had me running away.

“We’re headed to the Americas, and I am looking for more hands. How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” The truth would be easiest to remember later on.

“Where are your parents?”

“Dead, sir.” The one who had noticed my existence anyway.

“I see. You healthy?”

“Yes, sir. Never get sick.”

No lie there. When I was about seven years old, my entire family except me had gotten ill with the fever. When they had recovered, my mother kept hovering about me, waiting for me to fall ill.

“You are a mystery,” my mother said. “Someone’s looking out for you, Charlotte.” Cripes, I hoped that was true.

“Never get sick, huh?” Captain Finley said, bringing me back to the present moment.

I shook my head, afraid to talk more than I had to.

“Well, then, I cannot pass on a deckhand who promises he never gets sick, now can I?” He smiled, but his eyes still studied me, sized me up. “See that trail of crew filling buckets with water and passing them back to the ship?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You think you’re smart enough to handle something like that?” 

“Yes, Captain,” I shouted, nearly hugging the man, which was what a girl would do, so I stopped myself. I walked toward the line of crew.

“Wait a minute,” Captain Finley said.

My heart almost stopped beating. He had figured me out. He smelled a girl. Another chance lost.

“Aren’t you curious about wages, son?”

Wages? I hadn’t been thinking about getting paid to sail. I’d have done it for free.

“I trust your wages are fair.”

Captain Finley laughed again. “Well, then, the Americas are waiting for us, boy. We set sail at the end of the week if you can last that long. We’ve set up camp on the other side of the Rose there while the ship’s on her side. A few more tasks to be done, and we are off to cross the mighty Atlantic.”

He opened his hands to the ocean lapping at the sandy shore. A genuine smile stretched across his face as he breathed in a lungful of sea air. He shook his head as if looking at the sea had overwhelmed him.

I knew the feeling.

Set sail with Charlotte and let me know how you like sailing. Download Sail With Me and begin your adventure.

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

Winter Wonderlands

Call me crazy if you will, but winter is my favorite season. Yeah, it's a real pain when the roads get slippery and it's hard to get around, and sometimes it's so cold you can barely breathe, but I still love it. I love the early dark evenings and the soup at night and the smell of warm bread baking.

One of my favorite things is to go out on those days when it's far below zero and everybody else is hunkered down inside. I'll go for walks (flannel-lined jeans and warm boots) or go shopping (I have the stores to myself!) Sometimes I'll go for a cross-country snowshoe hike or just zip over to the local cafe for a cup of soup and a browse around the stores.

One thing that *really* helps me enjoy the wintertime is the fact I don't have to commute. I telecommute full-time for my job, so if the weather is bad -- well, I just stay in that day. No more white-knuckle drives on the Interstate, no more jockeying for position with a snowplow. If the drive doesn't get shoveled for a while, that's okay. My husband has 4-wheel drive, and he can get out if he has to, and I'll get around to shoveling when I feel like it (or power up the snowblower and get it taken care of).

It's all a matter of perspective, I guess. It's going to snow. It's going to get cold. And it's going to get dark early. I may as well enjoy it!

J L
jayellwilson.com