Book of the Week: KATHRYN, Quarry Hall #3

The next three weeks will feature Quarry Hall books, because in November, JENNIFER, Quarry Hall #11, will be released from Desert Breeze Publishing.

Book #3: KATHRYN

Kathryn's retreat for relaxation and contemplation is interrupted to take a fugitive to safety, beyond the reach of authorities who may be compromised. The injured woman knows her name is Regina, but not why people were shooting at her. The journey to reach a friend in the FBI is complicated when Kathryn's illness requires frequent stops, permitting Regina's pursuers to nip at their heels.

When the mountains interfere with cell reception, and she can't stop long enough to make a call for help and advice, Kathryn has only her companion dog, her own wits, and prayer to depend on. Deception waits around every corner and Regina's attitude tests Kathryn's sympathy and her faith.

Off the Bookshelf: TORN, by Amanda Hocking

YA fantasy here, with enough of an intricately built world, I admit to having some trouble getting "into" it by the first book I read NOT being the first book.

Does that make any sense?

I picked up easily enough on the dynamics, the warring factions, the history of the heroine, without feeling like I had to wade through annoying data dumps. Yet there was always this sense of having missed out on inside information that everyone else knew. It interfered with being able to lose myself in the story.

However, that is MY problem, not the fault of the writer.

Wendy discovered in a previous book that she was a Changeling -- a baby born to another family, a Human family (mansklig) is taken , and a Trylle baby is left in his or her place, to be raised by them. Which apparently led to some real problems for Wendy and her unwilling -- drafted, shanghaied? -- mother and brother. Now she is "home," with her real mother, who just happens to be the queen, so Wendy has a lot of catching up to do, to prepare to take her mother's place.

This book just dumps more unpleasant surprises on her. Including politics and political marriage pressure. Ugh. And then there's this guy she thinks she loves, who is being all disgustingly noble and trying to discourage her, and he's just confusing her. Then this guy named Loki shows up who's charming and urges her to run away with him, but he kind of works for the bad guys ... Yeah, who can resist a handsome charming bad boy? I have to wonder if this book was written before or after Tom Hiddleston smirked his way across the big screen... (Yeah, I could look it up but I'm not gonna. Doesn't matter. This Loki belongs to the author, not Marvel.)

I had heard about Amanda Hocking for several years, and finally got hold of one of her books. I wish I had started at the beginning, though. And when I make a serious dent of depletion in my to-be-read pile (think the Leaning Tower, ready to bury me) I definitely have the first Trylle book on my hunt-and-devour list.

BLADE OF INNOCENCE, Highlander the TV series fan fiction

Excerpt from Chapter 2 of the fan novel now available on Wattpad:

            "Good morning!"  the young woman sang out.  Her wide-boned face glowed from scrubbing and no make-up.  Her long hair was pulled back in a single braid, hanging over her shoulder almost to her waist.  She slung a blue motorcycle helmet into the corner by the stairs and tossed a heavy key ring into it.

            "You forgot something, Darcy," Duncan said, crossing the room to the wall rack where three katanas hung on display.

            "Next time.  I promise."  She grinned at him, nearly  upside down as she bent over to unlace her boots.

            "That's what you said last time.  How can I judge your technique if I can't see the sword you've been practicing with?"

            In the doorway, Amanda cocked an eyebrow and took a closer look at this girl.

            "I didn't promise, last time." Darcy stood and levered her boot off her left foot with the toe of her right boot.  "I always keep my promises."

            "That's good."  Duncan tossed the katana across the intervening space.

            Darcy swooped up underneath it and caught it with a resounding smack against her palm.  Grinning, she toed off her socks and advanced onto the practice mats.  She shifted her grip to two-handed and held the sword parallel with the floor, chest-level, waiting.

            "That's Amanda, by the way," Duncan said, gesturing toward the office door with his chin.

            "Hi," Darcy said, never taking her eyes off her teacher.

            "Hi yourself," Amanda murmured.  She took a long sip of coffee.  Then grimaced  --  it was black.

            "She just got in from -- where did you just get in from?" he continued, grinning.

            "Don't try to distract me, Duncan," Darcy said with a chuckle.  "It worked last time, but it won't work again."

            "She's such a good student.  You might learn something from her, Amanda."

            "Yeah, thanks."  Amanda tugged her shirt straight, slid down to the floor and settled down cross-legged to watch.

Book of the Week: ANNE, Quarry Hall #2

Excerpt:

"What're you --"

"Just let me give you my card. It has a number you can call for help. That's what we do. We help people. Even dumb ones." She grinned wider, and pulled out her wallet. The keys came with it, falling to the ground with a jangle-splash sound.

"How about you give me all your money and I let you keep the truck and we call it quits?" he said, his voice shaking a little. The gun lowered a tiny bit more. Still not low enough to suit Anne. She had a mental image of the gun going off, the bullet bouncing off the pavement and hitting her somewhere totally embarrassing.

The grocery store door squeaked open, distracting them both. He turned a little, raising his gun. Argus growled.

"Argus --"

"Hey, what's going on over there?" a man shouted. He stepped out into the parking lot lights, revealing himself as tall, balding, dressed in dark slacks, white shirt, and the long red apron the store workers wore.

"Don't tell them anything!" the gunman demanded, his hand shaking now. He took a step backwards and pointed the gun at Anne.

Argus leaped, aiming for the gunman's chest, to knock him to the ground as trained.

"No! Down!" she screamed.

Book of the Week: ANNE, Quarry Hall #2

Excerpt:

"I'm your first hold-up, huh?"

He nodded. Anne held out her hand again. He looked at her hand, looked back over his shoulder at the grocery store, looked at Argus. The big dog was quiet now, still standing on alert, teeth still bared, advertising his willingness to bite the minute the young gunman did anything wrong. Just because Vincent trained all the Quarry Hall dogs to never bite, that didn't mean they couldn't or wouldn't threaten to bite. It was amazing, Anne reflected, what the power of suggestion could do in a tense situation.

"Look, couldn't you just... like forget I was here?"

"I'm soaking wet. Tomorrow's lunch is in a puddle. I'm going to have one doozy of a bruise in the morning. Getting held up after a day of driving in the rain is not going to be easy to forget!" She managed a grin, though the shakes were working their way up from her guts.

Please, Lord, don't let me get stupid, now. My guardian angel has already been working overtime lately.

"No, you have to let me go."

"You need help. Nobody decides just to take somebody else's total worldly goods without some kind of reason." Anne reached into her pocket.

Book of the Week: ANNE, Quarry Hall Book #2

The next four weeks will feature Quarry Hall books, because in November, JENNIFER, Quarry Hall #11, will be released from Desert Breeze Publishing.

Book #2: ANNE

After a rough assignment catching people out to destroy battered women's shelters, Anne needed a break. Being assigned to observe operations at Common Grounds Legal Clinic seemed like a cake assignment. Xander Finley, the head lawyer, was a friend of Joan, already supported by the Arc Foundation. Arc was simply expanding its support.

But then Anne was carjacked, her guard dog, Argus, shot. She was already off-balance, worried about Argus and wearing borrowed clothes, and things got worse from day one. Face-to-face with someone from her painful past and feeling antagonism from Xander's employees, Anne stumbled into one problem after another. Her frustration grew when allies became enemies, and she was accused of entrapment and then attempted murder. How come prayer was her last resort, when it should have been her first reaction to every problem?

Off the Bookshelf: SECRETS IN DEATH, by JD Robb

Admit it, we've all wanted to take someone who has spread gossip about us and, at the very least, give them a face-plant somewhere messy and publicly humiliating. Gossips are the lowest of the low, worse than murderers, in a lot of ways. Shakespeare got it right when one character wailed about the destruction of his reputation. The suffering of a mortal wound either heals or it ends with death, but when your reputation has been shredded, it's hard to make it stop. Especially in the modern age of social media.

Dallas is on the scene -- as in, catching the victim's body as she bleeds out in a fancy bar -- when Larinda Mars, a notorious gossip reporter dies. It's natural that Dallas should take it a little personally that someone got slashed almost under her nose. She knows she saw the murderer, but identifying him or her is going to take some work because Mars had a lot of potential victims in her radar, including Dallas and those closest to her. But Mars' worst attacks weren't even public. She was a blackmailer, and making a very hefty profit from threatening to expose everyone's worst secrets and private pain. So who exactly did Mars push to the breaking point?

Another captivating jaunt into the future of New York homicide investigations, and all the complex personalities and relationships that just keep growing and changing in the In Death series. Can't wait until the next book comes out. I'm #91 in the queue at the library for DARK IN DEATH ... which doesn't come out until next year!

BLADE OF INNOCENCE, Highlander the TV series fan fiction

Excerpt from Chapter 1 of the fan novel now available on Wattpad:

            Darcy as he had last seen her filled his mind.  Her long, dark hair was held back in two ponytails.  She wore her favorite green sweatshirt with the roaring lion on it, and scurried through the swinging door into the kitchen, carrying a tub of dirty dishes almost too heavy for her.  Roger had hurried forward to help, and they laughed as they stumbled over to the huge sink to put the tub down.

            "Thanks.  Rescued me again," Darcy had said with a breathless laugh.  Then her smile had faded.  "I wish you'd stay, Roger."

            "So do I, baby doll."

            "I'm not a baby," she had said with a sigh -- and a flicker of humor in her eyes.  "I'm nearly twenty.  I can vote.  I can drive.  I can drink, if I didn't think Dad would paddle my rear end red for it.  I can go three rounds with you before losing my sword."

            "I'm the best swordsman in England," he had interrupted, deliberately thickening the Cornwall accent he had worked three decades to lose.

            "I am not a little girl."

            "Sweetheart, compared to me, you're still in diapers."  He had given in to his longing then and brushed a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.  Roger looked away, knowing if he continued looking into Darcy's wide brown eyes, he would drown in them and say or do something they would all regret.  "When you finish growing up, you'll understand why I had to leave.  Promise."

            "You'll come back?"

            "I promise."

            "The others promised, and now they don't even write anymore," she had said with a sniff, her pretty mouth twisting into a momentary pout.

Book of the Week: JOAN, Quarry Hall #1

Excerpt:

The man leading the way opened a door at the end of the shadowy aisle. Joan guessed the room was a pre-fabricated module, meant for dividing up large spaces to make them usable. All that mattered was that this room sat near the center of the warehouse. The man walking behind her grabbed her shoulder and half-guided, half-shoved her into the room. She stumbled, but the man who went in first, the beardless, taller one of the two, caught her. He copped a feel before pivoting her around, shoving her into a chair in the corner.

Matt sat in the other corner, hands bound behind him, his ankles tied to the battered wood-and-metal-tube chair with the same brown twine her captors had used on Joan. From the sweat and grime marking his face, darkening his clothes, matting his hair, he had been given the same temporary storage shed treatment. He had some bruises on his face and his bared arms, but no other signs of rough treatment. What was happening now, that they were brought together?

His eyes asked a thousand questions, but he didn't say anything.

Book of the Week: JOAN, Quarry Hall #1

Excerpt:

What kind of villain used twine to tie up his victims?

Joan's wrists itched from the fibers as she hobbled down the aisle between tall metal shelves full of grimy crates and packing boxes, and gave another experimental tug with her wrists bound behind her back. A sharp sensation flashed up her arm, followed by warm wet. Either sweat, or she had cut herself with the effort. She was betting on blood, because she had sat for four hours in a dark, grimy storage shed, sweating. The only thing that kept it from being a sweatbox straight out of a prison break movie was that it was made of plastic, not metal. All the time she sat there, no one had asked her any questions. She could have been another crate stored in the shed, for all the attention her captors paid her.

That was about to end, obviously. She would have preferred that they had put a hood over her head, but maybe that was a waste of time, since she had seen three of them. They didn't care what she saw, meaning they could keep her quiet and unable to use what she knew against them.

The War Room

Please mark the date for the Faith and Fellowship Book Festival, and plan on attending!

Where is Etna? Look for Columbus, OH and then look to the right. Better yet, just plug the address into your map app. Check out this link and see all the authors, all the different kinds of books, the panel discussions available. Oh, yeah, and BOOKS to buy.

I mean, come on, it's almost time to start CHRISTMAS SHOPPING!!

I'm gonna be there -- I hope to see YOU!

Book of the Week: JOAN, Quarry Hall #1

The next five weeks will feature Quarry Hall books, because in November, JENNIFER, Quarry Hall #11, will be released from Desert Breeze Publishing.

Book #1: JOAN

Under a false identity, Joan finally has the life she has always wanted. With pressure to deepen a relationship on one side, and the threat of an old nemesis finding her on the other, she refuses to run, no matter what it costs her.

Into this chaos comes a letter from a man claiming to be her unknown father, and an invitation to visit him at Quarry Hall. He has a proposition for her.

Joan can make a big difference for good in the world, using her father's money. She hungers for the family and sense of belonging that Quarry Hall offers. To rescue her closest friend, she would sell the soul she doesn't believe she possesses.

In the end, Joan will have to give up the lies that have kept her alive all these years.

Off the Bookshelf: FAIREST, by Marissa Meyer

FAIREST is a play on, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all," and gives it a really wrenching twist.

How?
Well, to start with, the "fairest" of them all doesn't look in mirrors. In fact, by the end of the book, all mirrors are outlawed.
The face she shows the world isn't hers -- stolen, in fact.
"Fair" has so many different connotations.

Meyer shows just what a talented writer she is by making us LIKE the evil stepmother/wicked witch/cruel enchantress character, Queen Levana, of the Lunar Chronicles. How? By showing how she became what she was, the reasons for the things she did. Seen through Levana's eyes, feeling her pain, you almost want to root for her. It's hard to hate someone who seems to have the whole world and all the cards stacked against her.

In many ways, yes, she is the best ruler Luna ever had ... but considering the self-centered, egotistical cretins who came before her, that's really not saying much. Maybe the worst kind of criminal is the one who honestly has good intentions. Or at least has convinced herself her intentions are good. But you know what they say about a road paved with good intentions.

If you love the Lunar Chronicles, you don't want to miss this part of the story, no matter how much it makes you squirm.

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

Madame Collete informed Carmen that her pay was being applied to the dresses Frierri wanted her to wear when she entertained. She smiled warmly enough, but the warmth never reached her eyes. She added that if Carmen did well, she would be offered a room at the hotel, so she wouldn't have any expenses to worry about besides "making pretty." Carmen complied with the fittings for the dresses and tried to calculate how much money she had saved. If only she hadn't bought new boots last week, and a cloak to replace her threadbare shawl. Precious little remained of her pitiful savings, compared to the distance she had to travel to evade Gio Frierri's reach.

"Cleveland certainly isn't far enough," Carmen whispered now, staring at the condensation on the window.

She stood up straight, frowning. When had the idea of Cleveland come into her head? If anything, she should head west, maybe try to reach her father's friends in Denver.

Carmen shivered, hearing Essie, her make believe friend, insisting she had to go to Cleveland. Perhaps the strain of her circumstances had become too much for her and she had broken, at long last? She was losing her mind, imagining a friend who came to her in the darkness and shadows and promised help and whispered advice. Yet what if she weren't losing her mind?

Her mother had always told her to pay attention to her dreams, and to never dismiss the impossible when it happened in front of her. Anna had taught her to search for details and patterns and think about the why and how of things. Otherwise, how would she have realized that wonderful, small, helpful things happened when she sang?

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

When he asked her to sing again, she hesitated. He rapped out the titles of songs she had never heard of, but didn't look upset when each time she shook her head and told him she didn't know them.

"That's all right. You'll learn them, and right quick," he said, looking her over again. "Get rid of those widow's weeds and put on some decent clothes."

"These are all I have, and I'm still in mourning," Carmen had said. "Why should it matter what I wear in the kitchen, or what I sing, for that matter? My friends haven't complained about the songs I sing."

"Yeah, but my friends will." He grinned at her, and she shuddered with the momentary illusion that his teeth were pointed. "You're gonna be the new, private entertainment for special guests."

"Thank you, but no." She wished she had held onto the paring knife, even knowing it wouldn't have done her any good. "I'll stay here in the kitchen, if it's all the same with you."

"It's not." He snatched hold of her by her elbow and yanked her up off the stool, kicking aside the bucket with the potato peelings. "You work in the special parlor, or you don't work at all. Understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

He left with a chuckle. Carmen waited until the break after the lunchtime rush, then went to the manager to ask for her pay up through that morning. Frierri must have anticipated she would try to run. The manager, who had always been kind to her, looked afraid when he told her to report to Madame Collette. He whispered that if she was smart, she would leave town tonight.

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

She had grown comfortable enough with her surroundings and her fellow laborers in the enormous hotel kitchen that she had ventured to sing over her work, peeling and cutting and kneading. She had been happier than she had felt since before her father died. Since before Richard Boniface whispered his sweet, false promises of love. Her co-workers liked her voice and requested songs from her. The last few days, other workers came in during breaks, hoping to hear her sing. They didn't even mind that all the songs she knew were hymns and spirituals and camp meeting songs. Carmen had thought perhaps she had a chance to plant some spiritual seed, and she had felt that sweet contentment she thought she would never feel again.

A man in a slick black suit, with a red silk vest and a pointed black beard came into the kitchen yesterday, while she sang in rhythm with the potato peelings falling from her knife. He didn't make his presence known until she finished, though she thought she had sensed something, some change in the comfortably steamy atmosphere thick with the smells of good cooking.

"Very nice," he said, his smile cold when his voice startled a squeak out of her. He came around to stand on the other side of the table from her. "You should be singing upstairs."

"I'm a cook."

"Yes, with those clothes, what else would you be?" His upper lip curled as he looked her over. "I'm Gio Frierri. You know who I am?"

"You're the owner." Carmen set the knife down on the table and wiped her hands on her apron, then kept her hands on her lap, hidden under the table, so he wouldn't see them shaking.

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

Theo came around the corner of an intersecting passageway a dozen paces past the doorway of the lounge. He skidded to a stop, rocking back on his heels, then his usually somber, dark face brightened and he held up a piece of paper. It was stiff and square and the dirty snow yellow of telegram sheets.

"Who?" Ess cast her weariness aside and ran down the passageway to meet him.

"Phoebe." He chuckled and pretended to flinch as he held out the paper for her to take.

She nearly flung her arms around him. Theo wouldn't be smiling now if there was bad news in the telegram. Phoebe was working with Allistair to find her sisters, as well as control the damage from whatever Originator or even Revisionist information the search might uncover.

"What is this?" Ess asked, after reading through the sparse message three times, trying to force it to tell her something. She ran her forefinger under a series of numbers. "They look like coordinates."

"They are." Theo's expression darkened again. "Mixed with code for the designation of that particular location. Basically, Phoebe is telling us that she recognized someone going into a station house that had been declared destroyed four years ago." He tapped the paper above a series of three numbers and two letters. "It doesn't actually say four years ago, but I remember when the report came in because it was so unusual. The location was supposedly surrounded by Revisionists, and declared too hot to investigate for the immediate future. Everyone assigned to that station was declared dead."

"And?" She studied the shifting of muscles in his face as he controlled his expression. Theo wasn't the most readable of people, and that was good, considering the kind of work he did for the security of the Originators. However, she thought she had learned a few things after all this time working with him.

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

Ess certainly didn't look forward to spring. She and Uly would stay in the United States, but separated as they went out on Originator business. While it was a relief to learn that the blood link in the communication plates created from crystal dust allowed their grandparents to use them, in a way she was disappointed. She wanted an excuse to send either her or Uly on the Golden Nile to keep an eye on their grandparents. She still had occasional bad dreams where she went to Matilda's workroom or Ernest's office, and found the rooms empty, no sign that anyone had ever used them.

However, she had made a promise to her friend, Phoebe Stryker, to find Phoebe's three sisters, whom their treacherous uncle had hidden away. He used the safety of her sisters to keep control over Phoebe and use her to spy in Sanctuary, while he went about the country, disguised as Mr. Judson of the Pinkertons, to further his plans. The details of those plans were still being uncovered. The last Ess had heard from Allistair Fitch, who had the unpleasant task of uncovering Stryker/Judson's activities, he had found two more false identities. The ire of the Pinkerton Agency and their determination to make all things right gave Ess only minimal comfort. She feared that somehow, Allistair might yet uncover the truth of the Originators, and then what would they do if the Pinkertons decided they were a threat to national security?

"She's nattering again," Matilda said, as their delegation entered the lounge and finally began to divest themselves of their winter cloaks and coats and hats and gloves.

"No, Ess is pondering some devious trick or dire punishment for whatever blockade currently resists her," Ford announced, with a grand bow to Ess that earned a chuckle from his wife Athena.

"It's a good thing that rotter, Stryker, is..." Dr. Lockhart chuckled and sank down into the wingback chair that had become his province on board the airship. He settled his mechanical leg and looked around the room. "Well, to be delicate, rotting."

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

"I declare, if one more person insists that they never believed the official statements that we were presumed dead," Matilda Fremont announced, stepping out of the loading bay of the Golden Nile. She paused for a long sigh as the door closed behind her, cutting off the noise of the wind at nearly two hundred feet above the city of Chicago. "Thank you, Uly. I thought for a moment I was going deaf."

Ulysses bowed to his grandmother, then cocked an eyebrow at Odessa, who had led the way across the gangway from the air dock tower.

"Where was I?" Matilda said as their group moved down the passageway to the main lounge area of the airship. They had just returned from a meeting with the local leadership of the Originators.

"More astounded, relieved people declaring they never once gave up on us," Ernest offered, linking his arm with his wife's, and effectively slowing down her pace.

Matilda sighed, narrowing her eyes at him. A moment later, she tipped her head back and laughed. Stepping around their grandparents, Uly bowed to Ess and offered her his arm. The rest of their party joined in the weary laughter and they resumed their walk down the passageway.

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing

When her father fell from grace and his colleagues and superiors chose to believe the vicious rumors that shredded his reputation, peace of mind, and his health, Carmen had thought at first Boniface had been behind those false stories; especially when some of the ugly, unbelievable stories and accusations focused on her. Then he had showed up like an avenging angel, fighting to defend her father, mocking those who chose to believe the lies. Even with the taint of disgrace clinging to Carmen and Reverend Mackenzie, he had still wanted to marry her and take both of them away to a quiet life at a small congregation that was waiting for him. His anger had been tempered with sorrow when Carmen refused him again.

Now...

Carmen found she could breathe again when Boniface's blue-gray gaze slid off of hers and he turned to study the other side of the street.

"Nothing," he said, his voice colder than the rain.

"Are you sure you heard it?" the driver asked. In a moment, the steam-cart carried them both out of sight.

"You don't hear it, idiot. You feel it. In your bones."

"My bones are frozen."

Whatever Boniface said in response was hidden in the drumming rain, the splashing of the cart's wheels and the rumble-hiss of its engine as they continued down the street.

Carmen brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, hiding her face in her knees as she shuddered. For just a moment, even as memories and hurt tumbled through her mind, she had been about to open her mouth and shout for him. What made her think that he could possibly be willing to rescue her? 

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

From Desert Breeze Publishing.

A steam-cart trundled down the street from behind her, just as she stepped into the doorway. A whimper of gratitude escaped her clenched teeth as she saw it was deep and wide enough she could have laid down in it, and kept her feet dry. She gratefully sank down into the corner on the right, well out of traffic, if anyone needed to come out of the door. Tugging her skirts down around her ankles, she raised her hand to press against the cross.

The steam-cart came into view, framed in the doorway. It was an open steam-cart, a newer model but without any kind of roof or covering on it. Carmen snorted her disdain for anyone who thought an open vehicle made any sense in Chicago, with its wind and seemingly constant rain. The man who drove it hunched his shoulders, and his eyes were lost in goggles gone white with steam or condensation. The other man in the cart stood up in the passenger section behind him, one hand braced on the seat back, the other on the man's shoulder, and turned his head quickly, surveying the street in front of them.

Carmen paused with her hand just above the cross. She couldn't breathe, as just for a heartbeat, the standing man's gaze seemed to lock with hers. Despite the rain streaming from the flat planes of his chiseled features and darkening his golden hair, slicking it to his head, she recognized him. That flat, hard line of his mouth, she knew very well. It was the last expression she saw on his face before he walked out of her life. Those lips had been as hard as his voice when he castigated her for the choices she had made. 

New Book: MUSIC IN THE NIGHT

For luck, Carmen had worn her mother's cross. She hadn't worn it since the dream that helped her make up her mind and flee before she lost everything. Seeing and speaking to Essie in her dream had been the first good thing that had happened to her since her father died. She needed that bit of luck or blessing or whatever one wished to call it.

Clutching the cross through the protective layers of inadequate shawl and jacket and shirtwaist, Carmen stepped under the overhang of a doorway on a side street. She tipped her head back and she closed her eyes and prayed. For good measure, she focused on Essie's face as she had last seen her imaginary friend, and called silently with all her force of will. Perhaps she wasn't being so fanciful, wishing that Essie would turn out to be an angel sent to guard and guide and advise her?

The crystal rose warmed and vibrated through the wet layers of cloth. Carmen gasped and stepped back, slamming her shoulders against the wall. She uncurled her fingers from the cross and tried to catch her breath. No, she was not imagining -- the tiny spot where the back of the crystal rose touched her bare skin, under her shirt, was warm. The contrast with the icy rain soaking her clothes was far too clear to be her imagination. She hadn't warmed the cross and rose with her equally cold hand. Then, before she could brace herself to clutch the cross and rose again, the vibrations stopped and the warmth faded. She felt as if the wooden sidewalk rippled like waves under her feet. A more deeply recessed doorway, offering better shelter, was only a dozen steps further down the side street. She needed to sit down, out of the rain, just for a few moments. Hunching her shoulders, Carmen staggered down the sidewalk, aiming for the darkness of the recessed doorway, praying it was dry and deep enough that she could hide from sight while she regained her balance.

From Desert Breeze Publishing.

MUSIC IN THE NIGHT: New release

MUSIC IN THE NIGHT is the last book in the Guardians of the Time Stream series, Steampunk, from Desert Breeze Publishing.

Out THIS WEEK.

Like, NOW.

Here's the deal: Usually with "Book of the Week" you get the blurb on Tuesday, and then on Thursday and Friday you get excerpts.
HOWEVER, with a NEW BOOK, you get 2 weeks of excerpts. So keep coming back to check through next week. You're gonna love it!

Ess and Carmen are childhood friends who only met in dreams. Orphaned and destitute, Carmen flees enemies she doesn't understand. Ess desperately seeks for her friend, knowing their enemies all too well.

Brogan is a creature of the darkness, his music stolen and his face scarred by tragedy. He leads an underground community of people left destitute by injustice and tragedy. Crystal in his flesh and bone allows him to hear Carmen sing in the night. When she takes refuge in his world of tunnels and shadows, she brings him hope that he isn't going mad after all.

Ess and Carmen finally meet, resolving puzzles more than twenty years old. A future of possibilities open before them, but only if they can defeat the Revisionists who will destroy them all to control crystal's power, the future, and rewrite the past.