Friday, September 27, 2019


Binding Circumstance
Kelley Griffin

Genre: Romantic Suspense/ Romantic Thriller

Publisher: Champagne Book Group

Date of Publication: July 29, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-897445-98-3

Number of pages: 209
Word Count: 79,236

Cover Artist: OliviaProDesign

Book Description:

To save the life of the man she loves, she’ll have to risk her own.

Costume designer, Leslie Carroll has mastered the art of flying under the radar. She’s had to, or risk being found by the psychopath who almost killed her.

When she literally falls into Hollywood heartthrob Charlie Erickson’s dressing room on her first day of employment, their mutual attraction is instant and undeniable. Despite his star status, Charlie is a sweet southern boy at heart, and for the first time in a long time, Leslie begins to think she has a chance at happiness.

When her harrowing past catches up to her and targets Charlie, will she run to save herself, or face her monster to save the man who is her future?

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When Leslie emerged, her anger remained, although most of it was aimed at herself. She’d let Christine’s words get under her skin. Truth was, she had become mousy. In high school, she’d been headstrong, bold, and daring. Then in college, thanks to unwise decisions, unspeakable things happened. Because of those things, she’d become paranoid and cautious. If she was being honest, more than a little mousy.
That was the next item on her bucket list to change.
As she walked back toward the line, the drone of machines had lessened.
Frank’s skinny arms flailed around. He looked like a chicken fighting a snake. He spoke to a man, but because of the crowd gathered, the back of his head was the only visible body part. Angela too, appeared wild-eyed and pointing in her direction. Coffee churned in Leslie’s stomach. The crowd turned to stare as she trotted up.
Mr. Miller stood like ice. His eyes narrowed. A hush came over the crowd of extras. Folding his arms, he glared.
Great. What now?
She swallowed hard. Mr. Miller cleared his throat and grinned like a cat. Slowly, as if he had nowhere to be, he sauntered toward his prey, ready to pounce. “Miss Carroll,” he said, steepling his fingers, “how pleasant of you to join us. Did you have a relaxing break?”
She opened her mouth to explain. He held one finger in the air to silence her, then circled like a shark claiming its lunch. “Did you get autographs from anyone famous? Is that why you’re here, dear—to attract an actor? I hired you to do a job, not to fraternize with the famed.”
The thirty or so extras gaped with delight as the torture unfolded. Frank’s face was lined with pretend sympathy yet smug, while Angela’s seemed more humbled. Blood drained slowly from Leslie’s face, and her fists balled. Damn. Her only crime was not finding the bathroom. It wasn’t as if she sought out the crazy.
Mr. Miller circled one last time. He strutted a few feet from her, head cocked sideways. A faint smile drifted across his lips. Enjoying his assault, he resumed, “Miss Carroll, please share with the group precisely where you went for an hour and what you were doing?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but everything she wanted to say, sounded crazy. Then it hit her. Leslie cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Mr. Miller, I’d love to tell you where I’ve been, but, you see, I signed a non-disclosure agreement. I’m sure you’ll understand, the actors I ran into would appreciate my discretion.”
He reeled. Anger rolled off his skin like fog. His nostrils flared as he stomped back toward her. His face was inches from hers. “I had such high hopes for you, Miss Carroll. You came with such recommendation. Now I know you are not a team player, but someone who enjoys the spotlight. I’m afraid, I am going to have to ask you—”
Gasps from the crowd rang out before he finished. She knew. Knew someone walked up and stood behind her. Normal range, but again, too close for her.
“Mr. Miller?” Charlie’s familiar voice boomed.
Her back straightened as if someone poked her. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the warmth from his body radiated through the back of her thin shirt. Or she was having a hot flash twenty years too early.
His signature cologne, designed by someone else but stamped with his name, filled the air. A body-awakening musk mixed with a fresh rain. She shuddered. Instinct caused her to whirl around and step to the side, gaining a foot of distance between them. As she did, their eyes locked. Another chill racked her body. If she was lucky, he didn’t notice.
One quick look at Charlie’s head cocked to the side and the question in his eyes—he’d noticed.
Mr. Miller’s demeanor and voice changed, as if someone flipped a switch on his back. “Mr. Erickson, what a pleasure! To what do we owe this visit? Oh, I remember, you were to be measured today, weren’t you? Let me get my top assistant, Dana, and we will get that underway right now.”
He brushed past Leslie, shooting daggers, when Charlie stopped him.
“Mr. Miller, I’ve already been fitted by this young lady here.” He moved toward her, holding out an arm like an invitation for a side hug.
Great. He was a hugger. When she mirrored his movement, only backward, she crossed her arms and shot him an apologetic nod. Questions arose again in his eyes. But this time, a sign of understanding accompanied it.
Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets and examined her yet spoke to Mr. Miller. “She saved me time and embarrassment today.” Charlie’s gaze darted from the gawking crowd to Mr. Miller’s aggressive stance. Then he added, “I hope she was being commended for her efforts, rather than reprimanded.”
Charlie slid a long look at Mr. Miller.
Frank gaped, star struck, while Angela’s stare switched from the famous actor to Leslie and back.
Charlie turned toward her. “I didn’t realize—wait, did you say today is your first day?” He shook Mr. Miller’s hand. “Nice catch. She’s an excellent hire.”
Mr. Miller stammered, “Why…thank you, Mr. Erickson. That is generous of you. So Leslie measured you already?” Confusion laced his voice.
“Leslie,” Charlie repeated her name.
His slow, smooth voice rumbled with a touch of his southern drawl. Nothing could stop the flaming in her cheeks. Heat spread all the way to her ears. She wanted to disappear under the concrete floor. Her mind logged and registered all the exits. An old survival habit she couldn’t break.
Fidgeting, she moved a baby-step farther out of his reach. He’d already made her shudder and his mind-numbing scent mixed with his unwavering stare had her terrified he’d touch her, and yet wanting him to at the same time.
Yes, she was aware a costume professional by design must touch people. But it wasn’t her touching others that bothered her. It was not having control of someone else touching her. As long as other people stayed in their bubble, she was fine. But somehow, Charlie seemed unaware of the bubble rule.
“Yes, Leslie did an amazing job of putting up with my shenanigans.” He turned toward Mr. Miller. “Could I have a private word?”
Mr. Miller puffed up like a peacock. “Me? Well, of course, you can, Mr. Erickson.”
Chin raised a notch, he walked a few feet away from the crowd for their chat. When he returned, he waved his hand in dismissal of the crowd. Frank shrugged and turned. Angela actually smiled toward Leslie. She beamed back. They’d not be getting the better of her today.
Mr. Miller turned. His normal intimidating presence softened. “Miss Carroll, I owe you an apology. It was my understanding you’d gone missing.” He glared over at Frank and exhaled. “I should have considered the source. I had no idea you were recording measurements. Will you please accept my request for forgiveness?”
“Of course, sir.”
She offered her hand. Mr. Miller shook it as if it might bite him. Letting go, he raised one perfect eyebrow and added, “Interesting first day, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, sir.” She exhaled, deeply grateful to still have a job.
Straightening his suit jacket, he reverted to his more formal speech. “Mr. Erickson requested a private word with you as well. When you are finished, I would like for you to find Mrs. Godwin again and speak to her about your next assignment. That will be all, Miss Carroll.”
“Of course, sir.”
What does he want now? Leslie made her way from the crowd toward Charlie. He leaned against the edge of a drafting table. Strong arms were folded across his chest, his golden hair still messy, and his legs stretched out. He surveyed her as she came toward him, his eyes questioning, as if figuring out a puzzle. His I-told-you-so smile was enough to make anyone swoon, but she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and pressed her eyebrows together as she neared him.
He chuckled. Then in a low, sexy voice he said, “There she is. My elusive friend, Mousy—I mean Leslie.”
“Mr. Erickson.” She nodded.
“Charlie,” he stated, looking her dead in the eyes.
This was a strong-willed chess match she was determined to win. “Mr. Erickson—was there something you needed from me?”
“Not a fan, I take it?”
“Fan of what?”
She shrugged. “I guess so, why?”
He mimicked her shrug. “Just wondering. I know you’re not a fan of being touched.”
He’d nailed her in five seconds flat. Her hackles rose. “Did you need something?”
“You’re a mystery, that’s all. Most people in this town fight to stand next to an actor, name drop, snap pictures, you know the whole not-real fame thing.” He slid her a curious look. “But not you. It’s refreshing.”
She nodded, then raised her eyebrows as if to say, your point?
His smile faded, then rebounded as he mouthed the word “lunch.”
Her eyes narrowed. She cocked her head to the side as she placed both hands on her hips. “You expect me to fetch your lunch?”
He pushed off the table and took a cautious step toward her. Both hands raised in surrender, he looked hurt. “No, I want to take you to lunch. You know, for being discreet and not telling the world about the arrogant, pompous, windbag actor and his lunatic ex-girlfriend.”
She bit her lip. She wanted to full-out cackle. An unstoppable grin fought its way through. It radiated across her lips, erupting into giggles she had zero hope of controlling. He lowered his arms. His warm eyes danced with laughter along with her.
“I guess I should apologize for the pompous-windbag comment, eh?”
“No way,” he said. “Besides, it was cute.”
He examined her—too closely. The heat in his eyes caused warning bells to clang in her mind. Her laughter faded fast.
Clearing his throat, he continued, “Please let me take you to lunch. Come on, Slim, you gotta be hungry.” His boyish grin made her smile. “What do you say? They make a mean salad at the Canteen downstairs.”
Frank watched them with a mixture of respect and jealousy in his eyes. Perfect. Obviously, he was a fan of Charlie’s. Charlie didn’t notice. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice anything in the room but her. A few short years ago, she would’ve jumped at the chance to go to lunch with a famous actor.
Not now.
Shaking her head, she backed up. “Sorry. I just can’t. We’re slammed. Thanks anyway.” She turned on her heels toward the sea of human mannequins.
“Hey, wait.”
She turned back as he stepped close.
“I’m sorry you had to listen to all that—you know, before with Christine. She’s such a…” The struggle between being honest and being kind washed over his face. Charlie tilted his head up as if his answer hung in the rafters. He gave the impression he was searching for the vaguest, yet most correct word in the English language.
“Bitch?” Leslie offered, her lips curved upward.
“Yeah. That’s probably the best one.”
His wholesome laugh softened his jawline and lit up his eyes. She didn’t want to look away. He didn’t seem so intimidating or so famous anymore.
Charlie bent toward her. “Listen, can I buy you coffee and a salad to make it up to you? Please?”
She allowed no one except Nate and her father to touch her or be in her space. Charlie had weaseled his body closer to hers. Back inside her bubble. Breathe. Tiny beads of sweat trickled around her temple. He was only being polite, she reminded her brain.
“No thanks, I’m more of a peanut butter and jelly type of girl anyway.” Leslie backed away, winning and grinning. She spotted Dana waving from the other side of the room. “Mr. Erickson, I gotta go.” Walking away, she sensed a gaze on her rear. Something about him staring both excited and terrified her.
“Leslie?” he yelled.
She stopped in her tracks and turned, hating how it thrilled her when he called to her. Turning on his Hollywood charm, he declared, “It’s Charlie—and I will see you around.”

About the Author:

Kelley Griffin is an author, mom to five sons, wife to a marine and a teacher. Her romantic suspense debut, Binding Circumstance, is the story of a young Hollywood costume designer on the run from her college captor who literally falls into an A-list actor's dressing room and into his heart. That is, until her harrowing past catches up to her and targets him.

Look for Kelley's Kirin Lane series in the fall of 2019. You can check out her webpage at

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Tuesday, September 24, 2019


This just in! An interview with Nikkie Richard. Welcome Nikkie!

SC: Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.
NR:  Sixteen-year-old Samuel is the bastard son of a cleric, and has endured shame and isolation     all of his life. Like his father, he is destined to be a servant of Azhuel and the holy roots, but he     longs for an ordinary life in the Whitelands. Most of all, he longs for interpersonal connection.     When he eventually becomes the caretaker of a professed “demon girl” by the mayor of Haid,     Samuel     finds himself befriending a genderless humanoid being capable of thoughtful     intelligence and horrific violence. As a consequence, his ideas of morality, goodness, and the     nature of the world are ultimately challenged in very grown-up ways.

SC: Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?
NR: I pride myself in being a “logic-driven” Aquarius, but in the end, I can’t help but believe in the     paranormal. Most of the childhood, I grew up in a very 90’s Pentecostal home, which meant     everything was centered on the spiritual world: angels, demons, prophecies, etc. While my own    beliefs on  the reality of religion, God, and the afterlife have vastly changed, I can’t help but     acknowledge the possibility of things beyond our human understanding. The fact that we     human beings live on a planet with the capacity to support life, and that we as a species can     contemplate our own existence, is a miracle in and of itself. If history has taught us anything, it’s     that our ability to understand the world is continuously evolving. Who is to say what is now      recognized as paranormal won’t later be explained in a way we never would’ve thought logically     possible?

SC: What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?
NR:  My biggest upcoming project is a new-adult queer dystopian novel that’s sort of     a hybrid     between Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower and Naomi Alderman’s The Power. I’m also     working on the sequel to Demon in the Whitelands, which will bring a lot more     answers in     regards to Zei’s origins.

SC: Thanks for joining us today. Let's take a look at your novel now.


Demon in the Whitelands
Book One
Nikki Richard

Genre: YA Fantasy

Publisher: Month9Books
Date of Publication: September 24, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-948671-41-5

Number of pages: 358

Cover Artist: Danielle Doolittle

Book Description:

Sixteen-year-old Samuel, son of a devout cleric, has endured shame and prejudice his entire life. Though he is destined to follow in his father’s footsteps, he longs for an ordinary life in the whitelands away from talk of demons and holy roots.

When the mayor claims to have captured a mute demon-girl, Samuel is forced to become her caretaker. But as Samuel gets to know the prisoner, he finds her not to be very demonlike. Instead, she is intelligent, meek, and an exceptional artist. Despite her seeming goodness, some more concerning things cannot be ignored. Samuel is hard-pressed to reconcile her uncanny strength and speed, one missing arm, ambiguous gender, and the mysterious scars covering most of her body.

Samuel forms a deep attachment to the girl with predator eyes and violent outbursts, against his father’s advice. As their friendship threatens to become something more, Samuel discovers the mayor’s dark intentions. Now, he must decide whether to risk his own execution by setting her free, or watch as the girl is used as a pawn in a dangerous game of oppression, fear, and murder.

After a while, the buck quieted its struggle. It panted wildly, its dark tongue hanging out the crack of its mouth. Samuel got to his knees, drawing closer. The deer twisted its neck in horror, its dark eyes watching him. They were wide and black. The eyes of prey.
Samuel reached inside his jacket and got the knife.
“It’s okay,” he said softly as he straddled the deer’s torso, making sure to fully secure him underneath his legs. The buck’s muscles twitched, but the creature could do nothing. How had the girl felt when she’d been caught in the bear trap, iron teeth snapping into her leg? Like the buck? Did she think she’d be free? Somehow, he couldn’t picture her as a deer. She was more like a scrappy wolf cub.
Or a demon.

About the Author:

Nikki Richard is a sensitive queer writer with moods and coping mechanisms. An MFA graduate from the University of Baltimore, she lives in the city with her hot wife, amazing daughter, and fluffy cat.

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Friday, September 20, 2019


Jim and Stephanie Kroepfl

Genre: Science Fiction
Publisher: Month9Books

Date of Publication: September 17, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-948671-34-7

Number of pages: 293

Cover Artist: AM Design Studios

Tagline: Great minds don’t always think alike.

Book Description:

Seven of our country’s most gifted teens will become Nobels, hosts for the implantation of brilliant Mentor minds, in an effort to accelerate human progress.

But as the line between what’s possible and what’s right draws ever blurrier, the teens discover everything has a cost.

Scientists have created an evolved form of living known as Merged Consciousness, and sixteen-year-old Lake finds herself unable to merge with her Mentor.

Lake, the Nobel for Chemistry and Orfyn, the Nobel for Art, are two from among the inaugural class of Nobels, and with the best intent and motivation. But when Stryker, the Nobel for Peace, makes them question the motivation of the scientists behind the program, their world begins to unravel.

As the Nobels work to uncover the dark secrets of the program’s origins, everyone's a suspect and no one can be trusted, not even the other Nobels. 

As the Mentors begin to take over the bodies and minds of the Nobels, Lake and Orfyn must find a way to regain control before they lose all semblance or memory of their former selves.

Mr. Blue points to the document. “Sign this and change your life. Or don’t. It’s up to you.”
“What happens if I say no?”
“The Darwin Corporation will remain your legal guardian, but you’ll lose the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to become one of humanity’s greatest hopes.”
So basically, he’s saying I’m stuck here either way. “Will I always be locked up?”
“That depends on your choices.”     
I wait for him to crack a smile. He doesn’t.
I break eye contact and flip to the last page. There’s one short paragraph stating that I’ve read the forty-one-page document (which I haven’t), I understand the risks (which I don’t), and I buy into the idea that two minds are better than one (or something like that). At the bottom, there’s a line with my name printed below it.
“Is it dangerous?” I ask, really wishing my voice hadn’t cracked.
Mr. Blue hesitates, and for a moment he almost appears human. “Every medical procedure has its risks, but the end result could change the world. And you’ll be one of the few who have the ability to change it.”
What if I could become the next Michelangelo? I’ve been given the chance to create art that makes a difference. For now, and even hundreds of years to come. “What else can you tell me about Bat?”
“He’s very successful,” Mr. Blue says, taking a pen from his suit pocket. “And he’s dying.”
“Can you give me a little more than that?”
“He specifically chose you.”
Nobody has ever chosen me.

I grab Mr. Blue’s pen and sign the document using the name I’m adopting. If I’m going to share my brain with someone and become a ground-breaking artist, I’m doing it as Orfyn.

About the Authors:

Jim and Stephanie Kroepfl are a husband-and-wife team who write stories of mystery and adventure from their cabin in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. When they aren’t dodging moose, their story ideas appear during their walks with their dog, who far prefers chasing balls to plotting novels. Jim and Stephanie are world travelers who seek out crop circles, obscure historical sites and mysterious ruins.

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Scottish Ghost Stories

As the calendar approaches Halloween each year, talk inevitably turns to ghost stories. What better way to celebrate the season that with ghost stories from Scotland, the birthplace of Halloween? Below are some of the most chilling tales based in two of Scotland’s largest cities, Edinburgh and Glasgow.

Edinburgh is the ideal setting for a ghost story, what with its gruesome past and ancient warren of streets. Greyfriar’s Kirkyard, located in the Old Town, was the scene of religious persecutions in the seventeenth century. There have been more than five hundred recorded poltergeist attacks within the kirkyard.

Not quite a ghost story, the tale of William Burke and William Hare is chilling nonetheless. They were body snatchers turned murderers that operated in Edinburgh between 1827 and 1829. They sold their corpses to one Dr. Knox at Edinburgh University to use in his lectures. Eventually, the pair were implicated when Dr. Knox made a full confession. Hare turned king’s evidence on Burke, and Burke was hanged shortly afterward. His corpse was dissected and his skeleton displayed at the Anatomical Museum of Edinburgh Medical School, where he remains today. A fitting end, if you ask me.

Several stories originate in the city’s underground alleys, one of the most famous being Mary King’s Close and the Blair Street Vaults. Costumed tur guides will regale you with tales of intrigue, plague, and murder. Or better yet, visit the Edinburgh Dungeons where you can take a turn on the Drop Dead Ride, where you learn what it’s like to be hanged in excruciating detail. If you survive, you can hear all about Scotland’s most famous cannibal, Sawney Bean.

As the most populous city in Scotland, Glasgow has plenty of ghoulish tales to tell. Some say a lovely lady haunts Hillhead station. Witnesses have seen her wearing pre-WWII finery, and she’s always laughing or whistling a song. As ghosts go, she’s ne I wouldn’t mind running into.

The ghosts associated with the track between West Street and Shields Road aren’t nearly as fun. Reports of this ghost claim it’s half boy, half animal, and it tends to be gnawing on something. I suppose it’s for the best that we don’t know what that “something” is.

Glasgow’s southern Necropolis made headlines in the 1950s when children began roaming the graveyard in search of a seven foot tall vampire. The vampire—who was said to have metal teeth—was blamed for two missing children. Neither the children nor the metal-mouthed vampire were ever found.

What are some ghost stories you’ve enjoyed, Scottish or otherwise? Tell us in the comments!

Book One
Jennifer Allis Provost

Genre: urban fantasy

Publisher: Bellatrix Press

Date of Publication: June 6, 2017

ISBN: 978-1622510320

Number of pages: 271
Word Count: 75k

Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor Designs

Tagline: Karina didn’t set out to free the Seelie Queen’s gallowglass. Now she’ll do anything to keep him.

Book Description:

After Karina and her brother, Chris’s, lives fall apart in separate yet equally spectacular ways, they leave New York behind and head to the UK. Karina buries herself in research for her doctoral thesis, all the while studiously not thinking about the man who broke her heart, while Chris—who’d been a best-selling author before his ex-fiancĂ©e sued him for plagiarism—drinks his way across the British Isles.

In Scotland, they visit the grave of Robert Kirk, a seventeenth- century minister who was kidnapped by fairies. No one is more shocked than Karina when a handsome man with a Scottish brogue appears, claiming to be the Robert Kirk of legend. What’s more, he says he spent the last few hundred years as the Gallowglass, the Seelie Queen’s personal assassin. When they’re attacked by demons, Karina understands how dearly the queen wants him back.

As Karina and Robert grow closer, Chris’s attempts to drown his sorrows lead him to a pub, and a woman called Sorcha. Chris is instantly smitten with her, so much so he spends days with Sorcha and lies to his sister about his whereabouts. When Chris comes home covered in fey kisses, Karina realizes that the Seelie Queen isn’t just after Robert.

Can Karina outsmart the Seelie Queen, or is Robert doomed to forever be the Gallowglass?

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About the Author:

Jennifer Allis Provost writes books about faeries, orcs and elves. Zombies too. She grew up in the wilds of Western Massachusetts and had read every book in the local library by age twelve. (It was a small library.) An early love of mythology and folklore led to her epic fantasy series, The Chronicles of Parthalan, and her day job as a cubicle monkey helped shape her urban fantasy, Copper Girl. When she’s not writing about things that go bump in the night (and sometimes during the day) she’s working on her MFA in Creative Nonfiction.

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INTERVIEW WITH DANUBE ADELE (Dreams of a Fierce Heart)

I have a week off from my day job, and I'm spending it catching up on some Cornerstone Supernatural investigation work, and sneaking in some time to read.
Today author Danube Adele dropped by to say hello.
SC: Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.
DA: Cynthia Rabek grew up in a highly structured, highly scrutinized fishbowl as the daughter of a High Council member. A darling of the courts, she was always under a microscope, but she’d simply been too young to realize it. For that reason, her carefree, impulsive behaviors got the best of her. They got her shunned by her own people before she exiled herself to Earth to avoid the ridicule. Seven years later, she continues to be homesick and can’t seem to move on from Nick, the childhood crush that was also the reason for her humiliation and fall from grace. But now, with a chance to earn her way back home through a dangerous mission inside enemy territories, Nick suddenly decides he’s going to butt in and tell her what to do. Wasn’t going to happen. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she refused to be anyone’s duty, not when she’d loved him with all her heart since she was five. She didn’t need anyone’s permission to sneak off in the night and infiltrate enemy territory on her own.
SC: Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?
DA: The world is a mysterious place, and I’m the last person who would think I knew all the answers to what’s happening around us. My husband has talked about hearing footsteps in an otherwise empty house, and he also talks about a ghost that didn’t appreciate that he was taking care of her grandson’s house while he was gone. While I haven’t had those kind of experiences, there was once a strange night when I had a waking dream. I was sick, big temperature, and I couldn’t fall asleep. In the darkness of our bedroom, beautiful golden lights appeared and swirled around me, and somehow I knew they were healing entities of some kind. I got up on my knees and reached out with awe to touch the lights as they came by. My husband was sleeping next to me, and I waved the light over him, wanting him to feel the benefit of the healing light. Of course, I could also have been hallucinating, being sick and all, but it all felt so real. I can still remember the light beams moving around me. There has never been light that was more vibrant, stunning, and alive. I know. I’m probably crazy.
SC: I have a weird light story myself, but another time…what titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?
DA: I’m currently working on a few minor edits to a hot contemporary that’s titled One Breath to the Next. The heroine is determined to live her life on her own terms, make her own rules, and live the life she wants, and what she wants is Mason Garret with no strings attached. Commitments are a form of emotional terrorism, and she’s over having anyone force their will on her.  Mason Garret is a military vet working through the nightmares that continue to haunt him years later, and he doesn’t feel he deserves to live a happy life. Maybe friends with benefits was the way to go, because there was no way he could turn down her offer, not when he’d spent the last year fighting his own natural instincts when they came to her. 
We look forward to that one! Thanks for stopping by today for a chat. Let's take a look at today's book now.


Dreams of a Fierce Heart
Book Four
Danube Adele
Genre: Paranormal/Contemporary/Sci-fi Romance

Publisher: Danube Adele Publishing

Date of Publication: 9/9/2019

ISBN: 9781733191609

Number of pages: 470
Word Count: 132, 843
Cover Artist: Evernightdesign – Elle Rossi

Tagline: She’ll do anything to redeem her honor, including putting herself in enemy hands; he’ll do anything to stop her

Book Description:


Some have called me impulsive, and maybe I was, much to my own detriment … at seventeen.

A social pariah in my own nation after being found in a fatally compromising position, I tucked tail and ran to Earth for study, work, and to heal my wounded heart. It took seven years for the opportunity at redemption, to earn my way back home, but it means infiltrating dangerous enemy territory. If the Brausa catch me, I might wish for a quick death.

My goals? I have two of them. Save my childhood friend, our Sunan leader’s last surviving daughter, and, get away from Nick Dylant. His deathbed promise to my older brother has him bulldozing into my life, making demands regarding my safety. He’s even found a way to force a marriage using some obscure, arcane law of old in order to protect me, but if he thinks he can force his will on me, he can think again. There is no way he’s going to control who I am or what I do in this world. 

I don’t need his or anyone’s permission to steal away in the middle of the night with a disguise, a rough map, and an even rougher plan of action, because one thing is for certain: I refuse to join with anyone who sees me as a duty, not when I’ve loved Nick since I was a child. Not when I dream about his kisses and crave his touch.

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My voice sharply cracking the air between us, I snarled, “You had no right to run him off. You had no right to threaten him with a beating. I saw what you put into his mind. Who the hell do you think you are?”
            The only hint that he heard what I said was a slight narrowing of his eyes for the briefest of seconds. Then he turned his attention to the drink Greg had bought for me as though it were tainted. He completely ignored my outburst. “You aren’t going to drink that.” He made it a blanket statement. Firm. Like he had the right to do that.
            “Wanna bet? Who’s going to stop me?” I hadn’t planned to drink it, considering my allergy. That is, until he’d told me not to. For some reason, he had the ability to piss me off on sight and give me childish thoughts of violence. Like, how much fun would it be to throw the drink right in his face? Again, I envisioned the complete shocked surprise that would transform his expression, his stormy eyes wide, his brows and lashes dripping with the sugary, citrus cocktail.
            “I’ll stop you.” Casually, he grabbed the drink and set it on the tray of a passing waitress who barely noticed.
            Fury burned like fire in my gut, but I hid it behind a cold smile. “You think I can’t go buy a drink when I want one? I can walk myself over to the bar and order whatever the hell I want, Papa Bear. Last time I looked, I was an adult woman with her own money to spend. I’m not a gods damned child.”
            There was no change of expression. The grim look that seemed permanently etched on his face remained, but I did note that a muscle twitched along his square jaw, the only sign that I was getting under his skin, which gave me a hit of satisfaction. Then his full lips thinned, compressed into a tight line before he bit out, “Why the hell are you bent on causing a problem?”
      “I’m not your problem. I’m not forcing you to stay. I didn’t ask you to do anything. You’re welcome to go finish your playdate with Ryder as far as I’m concerned. I didn’t invite you to sit at my table.” My own heart, acting like an innocent bystander, stuttered with dismay at my harsh words. It ached, squeezing painfully against my chest, but I needed to desensitize it. My heart was not in charge. It hadn’t been for years. If I was really going to move on, this had to be part of my therapy.
            Nick stared at me in silence for a few moments, his gray eyes roaming my face briefly, searching for something. Whatever he saw prompted him to say in an undertone, “You need a keeper.”
            “And if I did, it wouldn’t be you, Papa Bear.”
            “Stop calling me that,” he snapped. “I’m not trying to father you.”
            “The hell you aren’t. I’m having a perfectly nice time with a good guy, and you come stomping over and puff out your chest. You don’t have the right to tell anyone else whether I have plans for the night, and you sure as hell don’t have the right to threaten a guy with violence because he’s into me.”
            “What does it matter? It’s not like you can date him. You don’t live near him.” He didn’t deny any of it. Wasn’t the least bit repentant.
            I gave him my best, wicked smile, knowing this would thoroughly piss him off. “Maybe I just wanted to have sex with him. Sometimes, a girl needs a little skin-on-skin. Some body heat.”
            His blue eyes turned glacial, flicking over the bodice of my dress where I’d grown more cleavage since my seventeenth year; his nostrils flared, and anger put a snarl to his words. “And we all know you aren’t shy about propositioning yourself.”
            My smile never faltered when his poisonous dart hit the bullseye, but I had no control over the long-ago humiliation that washed my skin in violent, crimson shades, which he noted with a sudden frown, like he was about to take it back, but screw him. Throwing that in my face after all this time made my heart clench with a sense of betrayal. I kept my voice as light as I could, trying to brush it off. “That’s right. I did offer up panties to you long ago. I’d forgotten about that. How embarrassing, right? Because I’m like your sister.” I almost pulled it off but for the last word. My voice cracked, and the feeling of utter foolishness, something I was all too familiar with in relation to him, left me exposed.

About the Author:

Danube Adele wrote her first romance at the age of seven when she penned the story of her dogs falling in love and having puppies. She’s been dreaming up romantic tales ever since. A lifetime resident of southern California, she spends time playing at the beach, camping in Joshua Tree National Park, and hiking Mammoth Mountain. Always a lover of adventure, she and her husband took their sons on a cross country road trip to Florida and back in an old VW Westfalia, that had no A/C, in the month of July, and still, it continues to be the best trip they ever took. Extensive travel and trying new things has kept the creative spark alive. Danube lives with her biggest fans, her loving husband, amazing and wonderful identical twin sons, and a teddy bear of a Rottweiler.

You can find other books in the Dreamwalker series, Quicksilver Dreams #1, Dark Summer Dreams #2, Dreams of a Wild Heart #3, at