Sandra Hill–book tour

Today we have delightful romance author Sandra Hill here  on our blog. I’ve enjoyed her works in the past and I think you will too. She’s provided us with a little about her new book, EVEN VAMPIRES GET THE BLUES, and I hope you’ll find it interesting.

Even Vampires Get the Blues by Sandra HillEven Vampires Get the Blues

A Deadly Angels Book

Book 7

Sandra Hill

On-sale: 8/25

ISBN: 9780062356529

Description:

New York Times bestselling author Sandra Hill delivers a sizzling new entry in her Deadly Angels series, as a Viking vangel’s otherworldly mission teams him with a Navy SEAL who’s more than his match-she’s his predestined mate . . .

The fact that vampire angel Harek Sigurdsson was a Norseman in his mortal life doesn’t make thawing out after exile in Siberia any easier. But things heat up when his search for evil Lucipires connects him with Camille Dumaine, a human who thrums with sensual energy that can mean only one thing: she’s the mate Harek’s been seeking for centuries. . .

The SEALs call her “Camo” for her ability to blend into a crowd-yet Harek’s intense blue gaze singles Camille out like a white-hot spotlight. The security wiz was hired to help bring down a ruthless band of international kidnappers, but Camille senses an unspoken agenda-besides Harek’s bold declaration that she’s his “destiny”. Just Camille’s luck that the sexiest man she’s ever met may also be …a vampire!

Excerpt 1:

Everything he touched turned to gold, or leastways a considerable profit, and thank the gods for that, because Harek Sigurdsson was a brilliant Viking with an insatiable hunger for wealth and all its trappings.

It didn’t matter that he had vast holdings in the Norselands, an estate in Northumbria, several hirds of warriors who served under him when called to battle by one grab-land king or another (Harek was a much-sought battle strategist), amber fields in the Baltics, trading stalls in the marketplaces of Hedeby, Kaupang, and the Coppergate section of Jorvik, a fleet of twelve longships and two knarrs, and numerous chests filled with coins, jewels, and rare spices. It was never enough! Not to mention three wives and six concubines … or was it seven?

Not that he wanted or needed any more wives or concubines. Like many Viking men (hah! men of all lands, truth to tell), he was betimes guided by a body rudder known for its lackwittedness when it fancied a woman. The Wise Ones had the right of it when they proclaimed: A cock has no brain. Well, at the ripe old age of twenty and nine, he had finally taken a sip from Odin’s famed well of knowledge. In future, when he came upon a comely

woman, he would bed her, not wed her, then send her on her merry way with a pat on the rump and a pouch of gold coins. Cheaper that way and lots less trouble!

Harek had just completed a meeting with Toriq Haraldsson, his agent here in Hedeby. Toriq had once been a hersir overseeing Harek’s Norse housecarls. Unfortunately, the fierce swordsman had lost an arm in battle. Harek had no qualms about hiring the handicapped man as his business representative. Loyalty and honesty were more important in that role than fighting skills. Besides, Toriq had once saved Harek’s life in battle at a time when Harek had been young and not yet so adept in fighting. A berserk Dane had been about to lop off Harek’s very head. Suffice it to say, the wergild for a highborn man’s head was enormous.

As they walked side by side on the raised plank walkways that crisscrossed the busy market center, men and women alike glanced their way, not just because of their impressive Norse height and finely sculpted features. Their attire—fur-lined cloaks, gold brooches fastening shoulder mantles, soft leather half boots—could support a tradesman’s family for years.

Unaware or uncaring of the attention, Toriq scowled and grumbled under his breath. Toriq was not happy with Harek today.

“Spit it out, man. What troubles you?”

“This latest venture of yours … it ill-suits a man of your stature,” Toriq said, but then he had to step aside to accommodate a crowd that had gathered to watch a craftsman blowing blue glass into a pitcher. Other artisans were hammering gold and silver into fine jewelry. In fact, Harek noticed an etched armband he might purchase later. In other stalls, workers could be seen carving wood and ivory, or firing clay pots in kilns behind the trading tables.

Hedeby was an exciting city, always something going on. To Harek, the bustle of commerce, the sounds of money being made, were like music to the ears. There wasn’t anything that couldn’t be purchased here, from the prized walrus rope that was cut in a single spiral strip from shoulder to tail, to—well—to his latest venture.

Excerpt 2:

“Harek Sigurdsson!” a male voice yelled out of the mist, so loud that Harek jerked into a sitting position on the pallet in the alcove of his enclosed space and almost rolled off to the floor. He blinked and tried to see the hazy blur standing in the open doorway leading to the longship’s deck. The only light came from the full moon outside.

He stood, and at first he was disoriented. Who wouldn’t be with a head the size of a wagon wheel, with what felt like a battle-axe imbedded in his skull?

A man … He could swear it was a man he saw standing there, and yet at the same time, there was no one there. Just a swirling fog.

“Who goes there?” he yelled out, thinking it must be one of the crew stationed on board overnight.

Silence.

Now he was starting to be annoyed. “Present yourself, man, or suffer the consequences.”

No one answered. Good thing, because he realized he had no weapon in hand. Should he grab a knife? What kind of weapon did one use with a ghost? Would a blade even suffice?

He shook his head to clear it, to no avail. He was still under the influence of ale. Or something.

He could see clearer now, and it was a tall, dark-haired man wearing a long gown in the Arab style who beckoned him outside. The gown in itself was not so unusual but the broadsword he held easily in one hand was, especially since it was his own pattern-welded blade. Then, there were the huge white wings spread out from his back.

What? Wings? Huh? It couldn’t be possible. He closed his eyes and looked again. Definitely wings.

Was it even a man? Or some kind of bird?

He had heard of shivering men suffering from wild dreams of writhing snakes or even fire-breathing dragons, but usually it was men trying to wean themselves away from years of the addictive brews or opium. Harek rarely drank to excess and never had an interest in the poppy seed.

But Harek had a more important issue at the moment. His bladder was so full he would be pissing from his ears if he didn’t soon relieve himself. Making his way through the now empty doorway, he staggered over to the rail. Undoing the laces on his braies, he released himself and let loose a long stream of urine. When he was done—shaking his cock clean, then tucking it back into his braies—he breathed a sigh of relief, then belched. Which was a mistake. His breath was enough to gag a maggot.

Which cleared his head enough to let him know he still had company. The man-bird stood there, scowling at him with contempt. The wings were folded so that he could scarce tell they were there.

“Who … what are you?”

“Michael. The Archangel.”

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A little Gothic–er, fun–now available at all venues.

For those of you who don’t have Kindles, and might be waiting for something new from me, I’m pleased to announce my Gothic, horror-y short story, Sing A Mournful Melody, is now available at Smashwords. It should be filtering through to their various venues (Itunes, etc) shortly. If you have been waiting and would like to read this new (ish) short story, you can get it here.

Sing a Mournful Melody, Gothic, short story

What’s the story about? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s about a widow and a very strange visitor she has one night.

The synopsis goes something like this:
At the turn of the 20th century, tragedy has left Maribelle grief-stricken. After her beloved husband is murdered, his body disappears from his crypt. Worse, ghostly voices call from the widow’s Graphophone. Is she losing her mind, or does something wicked this way come?  

Scatterbooker had a review of it in recent months, as well as A Woman’s Wisdom,  and Reading the Paranormal, if you’d like to refresh your memory.

If you’d like to check it out, you can get it at Amazon, and now, Smashwords. I hope you’ll enjoy it. :)

From the Roaring Deep is out!

Juli D. Revezzo:

My dear friend Jolene Dawe has an article included in this new anthology, dedicated to Poseidon and other Sea spirits. Do check it out!

Originally posted on Strip Me Back To The Bone:

For those not in the know (how is that possible??), Neos Alexandria’s  From The Roaring Deep is out! This is a devotional in honor of Poseidon and the spirits of the sea.

ftrd-front

My entry is on the creation of my Poseidon prayer beads, with general advice for creating a set of your own. There are some other fabulous entries, though obviously I’m partial to the bits about Poseidon.

Buy! Share! Spread the word!

View original

Girl Code by Cait Jarrod, DC Stone, Jessica Jayne, and Lea Bronsen, tour and #giveaway

GirlWelcoming back my friend Cait Jarrod and her co-authors. They’re here today with another giveaway and excerpt from their latest release, GIRL Code. Enjoy.

Cait: Hi Everyone! Writers In Crime gals and me had a great time writing stories of friendship and romance. Below is a snippet from FAITH. Giveaway below! Happy Reading! ~Cait GIRL CODE: An anthology: All proceeds from sales are going to the Wounded Warriors Project.

Introduction by Julie Ann Walker.
Where to buy: Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/ebook/dp/B00X602S8I/ Amazon/uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1514773457 Continue reading

Celtic Stewards Chronicles returns

Hi everyone. Well, I have a little news for you. At long last, the second volume of my Celtic Stewards Chronicles is available. Yes, the harshad wars continue!
Druid Warrior's Heart (Celtic Stewards Chronicles, Book 2) by Juli D. Revezzo, Celtic, Irish fantasy, Celtic Romance, fantasy
And with a pretty, pretty cover, again by Boulevard Photografica.

For those very, very many of you who enjoyed PASSION’S SACRED DANCE, you might recall Stacy’s helpful ancestor Ruth? This new volume, DRUID WARRIOR’S HEART, is her book. As the series goes backwards in time, DRUID WARRIOR’S HEART takes place in the 1500s on the Macken family’s original homestead in Ireland.
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Delve into the shadows of The Kyn with @JamiGrayAuthor and SHADOW’S EDGE… #FREEREAD #UF #PNR

I invited author Jami Gray over to tell us about her paranormal romance series, and something…snafued. My apologies to her. Despite the delay, I am pleased to introduce Jami to you. Please enjoy this look at her book SHADOW’S EDGE.

Delve into the shadows of The Kyn with Jami Gray

Much thanks to Juli for letting me come over and steal her readers for a bit. I’ve been asked numerous times where my story ideas come from, and I could wax eloquent and present this pretty picture of a creative mind, but that wouldn’t be fair or accurate.

Here’s the deal, I spent most of my teenage years wanting to be a different “me”, a “me” that could rival Harry Potter (who I wouldn’t meet until I was married with a mini-me on my hip and one in my belly). To achieve that I would take my favorite books and add in a role starring yours truly. Not a new trick, most avid readers do this to one extent or the other. Still at fourteen I decided my additional “role” was too big to hold in my gray matter, so it spilled onto 125 pages of hand written story. Sometime during those teen years I began to create my worlds, my roles and a whole slew of unique characters and writing became more than my escape, but my passion.

Still, as I tried to find my footing in this creative endeavor, each of my stories contained one, unchanging element–magic. When I wrote SHADOW’S EDGE I used my love of the unexplained and ancient tales of incomparable beings to create a “what-if” world. What if all those creatures we thought were myths, were real? How could they co-exist with the “normal” world? What would their world look like? What would happen if the veil of secrecy began to tear?

As I built my Kyn world, I wanted to make sure I had a spot for all those myths to call home. I have an entire backstory of how the preternatural population went underground, how the Library of Alexandria was reduced to ash to hide the truth. The Fey went first, quickly followed by the Amanusa (demon halflings), and the Lycans slunk away shortly after. The Magi (witches/warlocks/shamans) were the last to step into the shadows after following similar states during the Burning Times. Each group has their own creation story, and set of challenges. Amanusa, by their very nature, craves chaos, to the extent they’ll create it when things get too calm. The Fey, with their inherent arrogance, are blind to their faults, the Lycan’s live too close to their beasts, and the Magi are split between the witches holding true to their threefold law and the warlocks who have no problems trampling over their ethical lines to get what they want. That’s not counting the complication of human involvement, and hiding in the modern world.

Want to find out what happens? Pick up your FREE copy of SHADOW’S EDGE, and walk alongside Raine McCord as she delves into the shadows to uncover who’s hunting the Kyn.

SHADOW’S EDGE, Kyn Kronicles #1

Now available Free in eBook format at: AMAZON /

BARNES AND NOBLE /BLACK OPAL BOOKS / ARe / SMASHWORDS / iBOOKS / KOBO / SCRIBD ShadowsEdge_HR

Everyone fears what hunts in the shadows—especially the monsters… When the supernatural lurks in the shadows of the mundane, hunting monsters requires unique skills, like those of Raine McCord. A series of deaths threatens to reveal the Kyn community and forces her to partner with the sexy Gavin Durand. As the trail leads to the foundation haunting Raine’s childhood, she and Gavin must unravel lies and betrayals to discover not only each other, but the emerging threat to them and the entire magical community.

EXCERPT:

Walking into the dim house, Raine braced for the usual smell accompanying a violent death.

She knew that smell. It was distinctive. It reminded a person of raw meat and coppery blood. A scent warning you whatever you found, it wouldn’t be recognizable.

Coming down the short entryway, a few steps behind the two men, she realized there was no odor. No blood, no raw meat. She let out the breath she was holding. Only then picking up on the spine tingling traces of magic. It raised bumps along her skin as she drew closer to the front room.

Two agents passed her, heading out of the house, small evidence bags in their gloved hands. Osborn stopped just to the left of the front room’s entryway. Gavin came to a halt in the middle of the opening, blocking her view. Stepping around to his right, she came to an abrupt stop, puzzled.

Bane Mayson was sprawled on the faded green couch under the picture window. At first glance the scene didn’t make sense. There were no visible wounds, no horrific mutilations, nothing to show how he died. Just the skitter of magic down her spine, making the deceptively calm scene in front of her much more ominous.

“Can you give a positive ID?” Osborn’s rough voice pulled her gaze back to him. He looked at Gavin who wasn’t answering.She tilted her head to find out why, and then realized Gavin was looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

“I’ve never met him,” he said blandly. “Just spoke to him on the phone.”

“Oh.” A little disconcerted, she turned back to the waiting agent. “Yes, that’s Bane Mayson.”

If you want to play in the shadows, continue the adventure with Jami Gray’s Kyn Kronicles: Banner         Jami Gray Jami Gray is the award winning, multi-published author of the Urban Fantasy series, The Kyn Kronicles, and the Paranormal Romantic Suspense series, PSY-IV Teams. She can be soothed with coffee and chocolate. Surrounded by Star Wars obsessed males and two female labs moonlighting as the Fur Minxes, she escapes by playing with the voices in her head. Come stalk Jami at any of these fine locations:

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Google+ / Amazon

 Thank you for being my guest, Jami! And for your patience. Folks, don’t forget to check out The Kyn Chronicles, and as ever …keep reading!