Dreaming in the Pages

Books ... where dreams are better than reality

Broken Pieces

Jack Canon's American Destiny

Friday, November 8, 2013

#DangerousAttraction Romantic Suspense Boxed Set by @Loriryanauthor Kaylea Cross, Jill Sanders, Toni Anderson, Dana Marton, Lori Ryan, Debra Burroughs, Patricia Rosemoor, Marie Astor, Rebecca York, Sharon Hamilton



10 Award-winning, bestselling authors – 10 Hot Heroes – 10 Romantic Suspense Page Turners


With nine full-size novels from bestselling romantic suspense authors and a brand new Christmas novella from New York Times bestselling author, Rebecca York, this boxed set can’t be missed. Sexy, steamy heroes to heat you up and twisting plots to keep you turning page after page well past midnight!

Grab it at the introductory price of 99 cents. That’s 10 books for less than a buck!

From sweet to scorcher, these stories are a must read. Fall in love with our sexy cops, tough military heroes, and hot CEOs. Treat yourself to an amazing reading experience by top authors of romantic suspense collected in one boxed set at a price that can’t be beat.

Ignited by award-winning and national bestselling author, Kaylea Cross – Can sexy ex-SEAL Hunter Phillips keep Khalia safe from the terrorists who took her father’s life? (Scorcher)

Secret Guardian by international bestselling author, Jill Sanders – Will ex-special forces hero, Ethan, save Ann in time, only to lose himself to love? (Scorcher)

Deathscape by Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence recipient and Rita Award finalist, Dana Marton – Detective Jack Sullivan will do anything to put Ashley in prison for her crimes…even if he’s falling in love with her. (Sensual)

Legal Ease by award winning and national bestselling author Lori Ryan – Marrying Kelly solved the problems this steamy CEO faced at his company, but will he ever be able to forgive himself for the price she has to pay? (Scorcher)

The Killing Game by international bestselling author, Toni Anderson –Forced to choose between his country and his heart, British SAS Soldier, Ty Dempsey risks it all to save a wildlife biologist caught in the crosshairs of a ruthless killer. (Sensual)

Fallen SEAL Legacy by national bestselling author, Sharon Hamilton – Will Navy SEAL Cooper be able to survive the loss of the woman he loves, or will his self-sacrifice be enough to keep Libby safe? (Scorcher)

Three Days in Seattle by national bestselling author, Debra Burroughs – Trying to stay a step ahead of a lunatic set on revenge, Kate and Ryan are locked in a desperate race to find her missing sister and capture the madman before both women wind up dead. (Sweet)

See Me in Your Dreams by Patricia Rosemoor, Golden Heart Winner and two-time recipient of the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award – Her dreams allow her to see through his missing daughter's eyes, but he thinks she’s a con woman...until she dreams of something known only to him and the girl. (Sensual)

Catching the Bad Guy by national bestselling author, Marie Astor – Top-notch white collar crime investigators Janet Maple and Dennis Walker team up to solve what could be the biggest case of their careers, but will their attraction to each other get in the way? (Sensual)

Bonus Christmas Novella, Christmas Captive by Romantic Times Career Achievement Award Winner and Rita Finalist, Rebecca York – Her special sight let her glimpse the Christmases past of this international financier, but did he have a Christmas future? (Scorcher)

Buy Now @ Amazon US, Amazon UK, Smashwords, iTunes & Kobo

Genre - Romantic Suspense

Rating – R

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GoodReads #Giveaway - Survival Lessons by Alice Hoffman @Survival_Lesson


One of America's most beloved writers shares her suggestions for finding beauty in the world even during the toughest times.

Survival Lessons provides a road map of how to reclaim your life from this day forward, with ways to reenvision everything—from relationships with friends and family to the way you see yourself. As Alice Hoffman says, “In many ways I wrote Survival Lessons to remind myself of the beauty of life, something that’s all too easy to overlook during the crisis of illness or loss. I forgot that our lives are made up of equal parts of sorrow and joy, and that it is impossible to have one without the other. I wrote to remind myself that despite everything that was happening to me, there were still choices I could make.”

Wise, gentle, and wry, Alice Hoffman teaches all of us how to choose what matters most.

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Genre - Nonfiction

Rating – PG

More details about the author

Connect with Alice Hoffman on Twitter

Website http://alicehoffman.com/
GoodReads Giveaway

Isabella: Braveheart of France by Colin Falconer @colin_falconer

Chapter 7

An Easter Friday, cold and bright. Edward storms in, trailing clerks and advisers, even a dwarf. Mortimer is there, and old Hugh le Despenser, Lincoln as well.

He has still not given her the dower she was promised and as she cannot afford to keep her own household she now lives in his. She is witness now to all of his moods and travails.

Edward paces relentlessly. He is holding a petition, bunched in his fist. “ “A higher duty is owed to the Crown over the person of the king?” What do they mean by this? I am the Crown.”

“They refer to the institution of kingship,” Mortimer says, refusing to join in the general air of exasperation.

“The institution? There is no institution. I am their king, they should do as I say.”

“What has happened my lord?” she asks him.

For the first time he notices her there. He waves a hand airily at her. “Explain it to her, Mortimer.”

“The barons have demanded my lord Gaveston’s banishment. They say he has misappropriated funds and has turned the king against his own advisers.”

“What funds has he misappropriated?” Edward shouts. “Everything he has I have given him openly. If a king may not give gifts to those who serve him best, what are jewels and land for? They are mine to give, are they not? And yes I listen to him before I listen to any of that crowd. He has my best interests at heart, they don’t.”

“Have all the barons signed this petition?”

“Of those not here tonight only Lancaster still stands with us.”

Isabella is surprised at this. That gargoyle is no friend of Gaveston, if his remarks about barrels and whores is to be believed.

“What does it mean?”

“It means the king should prepare for war,” Lincoln says. He is vast, the Lord Lincoln, the fattest man she has ever seen.

“It means these upstarts will defy their anointed king!” Edward shouts.”

Mortimer is still; old Hugh says I am sure it will not come to that. Edward sees his dwarf and kicks him by way of venting his frustration. The jester hurries to the door and flees.

“Would it not be wise to listen to your barons?” she asks him.

The king stares at her in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Your grace, I was here when you walked in.”

He looks confused. He puts out a hand as if to block her from his vision.

Mortimer stares at her in surprise, she can see him thinking: look at this slip of a girl, she has an opinion! He turns back to the king. “Perhaps if you just give them what they wish for now,” Mortimer says. “Let this blow over.”

“He’s right,” Old Hugh says. “It would not harm our cause to appear conciliatory.”

“They would not argue with my father, they will not argue with me.”

Mortimer and Lincoln exchange a look; yes, but you are no Longshanks, they are thinking.

“What is it that so offends them? If I love Gaveston, so should they.”

This is too much for Lincoln. “Your grace, who a man loves is a private matter. I have nothing against wives or whores but I should not like to see them at council meetings.”

“Are you calling Perro a whore?”

A man clears his throat. Gaveston is sitting in a window seat, playing himself at chess. The sun comes out and for a moment he glitters with gold. There are jewels on all his fingers. He gives them a slow smile. “I am still here, you know.”

Lincoln waddles towards the king, lowers his voice. “This is what they mean. This conversation should best be kept private. Whenever we have things to discuss, he is always here.”

“I can still hear you,” Gaveston says and checks his own black king with his white knight.

“Can this rebellion stand?” Edward asks old Hugh.

“What makes up a king’s power, your grace? The loyalty of his barons, for they each bring their armies to every cause he fights. But if they are on the other side, then what armies does the king have?”

“Do you know how to bring down a wall?” Mortimer says.

“Fifty men and a battering ram,” Edward says.

“There are subtler ways. Work a chisel into the mortar and work at it until you release one brick. When one brick is out the wall is weakened. Soon you have a large hole. Then you do not even have to bring the wall down, you just walk through it.”

“Your meaning?”

“For now we should stop running full tilt at the wall. Instead you should sidle up to it, examine each brick and find the weakest. Then work at it, until you have it loose.”


Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Historical Fiction

Rating – PG-13

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Connect with Colin Falconer on Facebook & Twitter

Website https://colinfalconer.wordpress.com/

The Color Pink by Parker Paige @parkerpaige86

It is a night to remember.
I step through the front door at 2:45 a.m., still glowing in elation. Exhausted, I wash my face, brush my teeth, slip into my nightshirt, and scramble into bed. I lay snug underneath the covers, reliving my spectacular time spent with John David. With a twinkle in my eye, I savor the joyful memories and inhale an elongated deep breath.
Can my fabulous evening with John be the beginning of something wonderful to come? And if not, will my feelings for him ever fade away? Random visions of constantly wanting him, and never having him, rummage through my mind until the peak of exhaustion before I finally fall asleep.
A short time later, the loud ringing phone awakens me. With one eye open, I glance at the green light dial on the clock, having just closed my eyes not more than twenty minutes earlier. I reach for the phone on the night table and accidentally knock my notepad to the floor.
"Summer, did I wake you?" John asks.
My eyes widen with delight. "Oh, hello, Officer David. I was so exhausted I went straight to bed as soon as I got home."
"I'm not going to keep you up. I just wanted to make sure that you made it home okay."
Is he a sweetheart or what?
A calm silence, and then John says, "I should─"
"Should what?" I ask, curiously.
John doesn't speak right away, and then says, "I was not completely honest with you this evening about my not seeing my old girlfriend."
In shock, I rise to a sitting position. "Oh, so you are seeing her."
"I am, but we're not together right now. She's in San Diego, taking care of her mother. I want to tell you that the relationship is completely over, but I will be lying if I say that."
It is like déjà vu all over again. "A girlfriend, huh?"
"I'm sorry, and I know that you're probably disappointed, but it is important for me to be honest with you."
I shake my head in disappointment. "I am a little surprised, but I'm glad that you told me."
"I want to see you again and thought I should be up front with you."
"I appreciate that, but I don't see that happening. Goodbye, Officer David."
It is unlike me to be so short with John, but there is no sense in giving him false hope. I would be a fool to tread back into another torrid affair with him after the way he broke my heart before. I want to think that I am a little smarter than that. With the night's excitement finally coming to a close, it seems our love affair ends before it is truly rekindled. And though I have written him off, I know he will never be far from my heart.
Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre - Romance
Rating – PG-13
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Thursday, November 7, 2013

Birth of an Assassin by Rik Stone @stone_rik


His smile dulled as he wondered whether he’d ever see his family again. But… he’d imagined being a soldier for as long as he could remember: he had no choice. He sighed, straightened his back and pulled the greatcoat tighter across his chest in an attempt to fill it.

Without notice, the vehicle shuddered to a halt and the recruits roared as they bundled into a pile towards the front. The tailgate dropped and the tarpaulin flaps separated. Jez followed the others from the truck and smiled at the NCO who awaited them. A blow snapped his head to one side and his cheek burned with a blistering heat.

“What…” he began, and dropped his kitbag so he could lift a hand to cover the pain.

This time a slap rattled his brain and his beret slipped over his newly shaven head. He reached to straighten it and a sidekick sent him sprawling to the ground. But before he could get up the NCO had leaned over him and his alcohol-laced breath wafted into his nostrils, turned his stomach.

“When I tell you to speak, fucking speak. If I don’t tell you to speak, then keep your mouth shut and your stupid face straight. Now follow me, smartly…”

The group followed him into a large wooden hut where, apart from hosts of rusted steel-framed single bunks with wooden stools between, the quarters were unfurnished. Faded green gloss peeled from the walls. Wood plank flooring had shrunk and expanded so often it no longer butted together and a chilled wind whistled through.

Another assembly of cadets stood at the foot of their allotted bunks. The group included girls, but that hadn’t mattered to the NCO. Each of them held a small wooden stool at arm’s length that wobbled under a weight that increased with time. The lines on the cadet’s foreheads deepened, and their faces changed from red to white and back again. Whatever they’d done, they were paying a stiff penalty.

The NCO walked the length of the hut, turned and stopped with his hands behind his back and his feet apart.

“Don’t just stand there like a bunch of fucking idiots. Put those stools next to your billets,” he said, belting out as much noise as he could.

Somehow, the other recruits squeezed the stools into almost non-existent gaps.

“The rest of you, take off the greatcoats, grab a bunk and stow your gear.” He ambled back to the door from where they’d come and gave them a minute to get back to the foot of their beds.

“I am Corporal Nikolas and you will address me as Corporal or Corporal Nikolas. You do not call me ‘sir’. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Corporal,” Jez shouted along with the others.

He’d been under the impression that, since the war, women were no longer used by the military and his curiosity got the better of him. What kind of girl would volunteer when she didn’t have to? The NCO turned his back and Jez sneaked a look at the girls. He stopped when his eyes came to rest on the bunk opposite and gulped. A blonde girl stood to attention. Attractive without doubt, but that wasn’t what fascinated him. He’d never seen anyone so obviously a soldier in the making: such hard determination, eyes unyielding, yet stunningly embroidered in dark blue against a pale skin, unforgiving, yet such angelic features.

But then he withered under her gaze as a fierce glint in her eyes made him avert his own. She’d thrown him. He’d forgotten about the NCO and lifted his head, pulled the “little boy” face he used when Miriam got angry with him. He was sure the girl’s eyes softened, so he followed up with a coy smile. Before he saw a response, a dull clap left him staring up from the bed.

“Are you some kind of fool? What did I tell you about stupid faces?” the NCO screamed.

Jez panicked. This would be reported back to Colonel Petrichova. He had to make amends. “I’m sorry, sir, it won’t happen again, sir,” he said. Too late, he remembered what the NCO had just told him.

The corporal grabbed him angrily to pull him up by the shirt; Jez screwed up his face as fingernails clawed into his chest.

“I won’t tell you again: speak when I tell you and not before.” He cast him back to the bunk, almost turned away, but then came back and bunched Jez’s shirt into a fist. “And I thought I told you to address me as corporal.” Jez remained silent. “Well?”

“Sorry, Corporal, it won’t happen again, Corporal.”

“Lights out in ten,” Nikolas shouted, and slammed the door as he left, almost taking it off its hinges.

Jez sat on the lumpy old striped mattress and rubbed a hand over his still stinging head.

“Are you all right?” a stern voice asked.

He looked up. The girl had come over. Without permission, his chest beat out a drum roll. “Yes, I’m fine, thanks.” He tried to appear laid back and stood to offer his hand. “I’m Jez Kornfeld, pleased to meet you.”

She looked at the hand, hesitated, but then sighed and offered hers. “Anna Puchinsky,” she said, and shook his hand.

His fingers crumbled under the pressure of her grip – but that was only because he hadn’t expected her to grab him so hard.

The introduction finished as quickly as it had begun. “I’ve got to sort my kit out,” she said, and left.

He wanted to say something that might hold her there, but only nodded.

She got to the foot of her bunk, turned and smiled, and his heart leapt.



Buy Now @ Amazon, B&N, Kobo & Waterstones

Genre - Thriller, Crime, Suspense

Rating – R

More details about the author

Connect with Rik Stone on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://rik-stone.simdif.com

Free - Heart of a Hero by Billi Tiner @tinerbooks

Heart of a Hero by Billi Tiner

Amazon Kindle US

Genre – Children’s Fiction

Rating – G

4.7 (43 reviews)

Free until 7 November 2013

Lady, an Irish Setter puppy, is leading a simple life on a farm in Ohio during the 1940’s. Lady’s biggest desire is to become an expert hunting dog like her mother. She has no idea that her life is going to take her down a path where she will find herself in the middle of incredibly dangerous situations, including a world war. On several occasions, Lady will have to find the courage to risk her life in order to save someone she loves. The loyalty and bravery that Lady shows throughout her lifetime illustrate what it truly means to have the heart of a hero.

Author Interview - Sandy Nathan @sandyonathan

Image of Sandy Nathan
Sometimes it’s so hard to keep at it – What keeps you going?
I’m a friggin’ maniac. Plus, I have the eternal hope that God will smile on me and I’ll end up the female Stephen King. Or someone.
Tell us about your new book? What’s it about and why did you write it?
New book. Well, since I commissioned a cover for it, I’d say the one about the little girl who’s a bounty hunter and witch is on the top of my mind. It’s book 11 in my Bloodsong series. The series is currently at book 2, with Mogollon in production and getting ready for a spring release.  About a million miles of road stretch between #2 and # 11. I can’t release #11 until I release all those in between.
My writing Lilya vs. the Forces of Evil is a bit of insanity. Lilya, the girl, shows up in the book immediately before her book. That book and the one before it are fully written. (Another case of inspiration before order.) Lilya’s the daughter of a shaman and a witch who had paranormal powers at birth. One of her eyes is blue, the other brown. She’s strange and amazing and fearless. I started thinking about her and couldn’t stop, she’s such a powerful and compelling creature. Voila, a partly finished book with a print and eBook cover almost finished. All I need to do is finish it and the ten books before it and I’ll be all set.
How often do you write? And when do you write?
I write pretty much every day. Today, I’m working on these questions, but I also wrote a chapter in Numenon, the novel I’m rewriting. Came out great. Sometimes when I don’t write, the story I’m working on marinates in my mind and gets better. I write whenever. Morning, noon, night. Anywhere. My computer is in the center of our family room, not the best place for concentration, but I resist moving my work station.
Have you ever had writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?
Oh, man, have I had it. I thought I’d never get Mogollon finished and in print. I started writing it in 1995. That was a tumultuous time for me. I think my brain was loose. I kept writing on that sucker, no form, no structure, not much story, until it was 240,000 words. And I couldn’t cut a one; I was in love with all of them. I wrote a half-dozen articles about writer’s block on my blog. They didn’t help. I suffered, I cried. I couldn’t separate the wheat from anything.
Finally, I got it together and finished the best draft I could. I shipped it off to my editor, who cut it in half. Slash! She cut out entire characters, all of which I was in love with. But I’ll be be darned, the book under all those extra words is pretty good.
It’s about a great Native American shaman meeting the richest man in the world. Sizzling conflict.
Do you plan to publish more books?
Oh, yes. To relieve my hard drive of its burden, if nothing else. I’ve got all those stories to tell. I won’t be able to rest until they’re published.
Buy Now @ Amazon
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Genre – Metaphysical Science Fiction
Rating – R
More details about the author
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Wednesday, November 6, 2013

#Free - Helga: Out of Hedgelands by Rick Johnson @WoodCowBooks


Helga: Out of Hedgelands by Rick Johnson

Twelve-year-old Helga has more danger in her life than most beasts her age. Wrackshee slavers after her, a vicious attack by bandits that nearly kills her, a race against dragons pursuing her, and leading a daring rebellion to save her life, and rescue friends and family, from the insidious WooZan. And that is just the beginning. But what do you expect when you are a young beast who just can’t see the stupid rules of the world making any sense? Helga can’t accept things as they are and ends up taking on not just one, but two all-powerful, supreme tyrants in two different realms.

Helga never intended to lead a revolution. It just sort of happened because she wouldn’t go along with the “rules of normal” that keep tyrants in power and entire societies enslaved. Beginning on a dangerous quest to solve some mysteries in her own past, Helga leads her quirky comrades on a journey that will not only forever change them, but upset ancient civilizations.

As an author, I’m drawn to eccentric, unexpected characters: those who surprise because they hear a distant galaxy, see a different music, create their own fragrance rather than get hooked on a soundtrack; the child who has her own ideas about how the emperor is dressed; the lunatics and rebels who tell stories on the boundaries. Helga’s unusual story will take readers to worlds they never imagined—definitely a whole new ride.

Time and again, the unconventional heroine and her eccentric comrades overcome ominous tyrants and black-hearted slavers, not by battling to the last beast standing, but by being the first beast to think differently.

Helga: Out of Hedgelands is divided into three books which introduce the epic saga of the Wood Cow clan and their role in overturning centuries of slavery and tyranny. This story will continue in additional volumes of the Wood Cow Chronicles now in development. Over the series of current and future volumes, the entire history of the Wood Cow clan, the fall of Maev Astuté, and the coming of Lord Farseeker to the Outer Rings, will be told.

Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre – Fantasy / Middle Grade

Rating – PG

More details about the author

Free until 6 November 2013

Connect with Rick Johnson on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.woodcowbooks.com/

Author Interview – Massimo Marino @Massim0Marin0

Image of Massimo Marino

What is your favorite bedtime drink?


Do you ever wish that you had an entirely uncreative job, like data entry or working in a factory?

Oh my, I plan to live a mentally healthy life. The repetition is what would kill me. I can understand those who after a day in a factory need to spend hours in a pub, to breath life and emotions.

Do you believe in a deity?

As a scientist I discovered that there is lots of complexity in the Universe, and more is yet to be discovered and understood. There seem to be a coordinated effort for things to work perfectly together. Even chaos is less chaotic than one could believe and has its laws and rules. If behind all this one wants to see a unique driving force, I’m not one to oppose that… without proof.

What are the most important attributes to remaining sane as a writer?

There aren’t unfortunately. Writing is like a wound that doesn’t heal and a story oozes out of it from time to time. You have to escape reality to create a different one.

What is the single most powerful challenge when it comes to writing novel?

For me that would be when reaching the end, when you realize you can’t go on; everything has been said and done, and you need to part from that world. Maybe this is why at the moment I’m confronted with a trilogy. To have things going on…

What do you consider your biggest failure?

To have gone public too late. I’ve written stories and novellas since ever and never had the urge to even try to have others read. I think I’ve lost many interesting years.


Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre – Science Fiction

Rating – PG-13

More details about the author and the book

Connect with Massimo Marino on Facebook and Twitter

Website http://massimomarinoauthor.com

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Author Interview – Heidi Garrett

If you could leave your readers with one bit of wisdom, what would you want it to be? Pay attention to the people you deeply love. Spend time with them, get to know them better, enjoy them. None of us will be here forever.

When you wish to end your career, stop writing, and look back on your life, what thoughts would you like to have? I’d like to feel proud of my body of work. I’d like to think that I brought something to the world conversation; that I made people smile, laugh, shed a tear, nod their head, and perhaps feel more free to love. For whatever reason, I grew up with an idea that love wasn’t real, that it couldn’t last, it was almost something to be laughed at, but it’s not. In the end it’s the only thing that’s real or lasting. True love is always worthy of celebration, it’s the most dynamic and powerful energy on the planet.

How do you work through self-doubts and fear? I talk to my husband. He gets me to laugh. I feel better.

What scares you the most? The real apocalypse.

What’s your greatest character strength? Probably something along the lines of my ability to persist. When I deeply care about things, I seem to be able to hang in there.

images (3)

In the Enchanted World, true love’s first kiss is magic.

Nandana’s Mark, Book 1: When two half-faeries–Melia and her younger sister–are cursed under dreadful circumstances, true love’s first kiss is the remedy.

The Flower of Isbelline, Book 2: Nothing but true love’s first kiss can save Melia’s younger sister from blind ambition and ruin.

The Dragon Carnivale, Book 3: Melia must choose the freedom she cherishes or true love’s first kiss–and a relationship that promises to secure her place in the Whole.

The Queen of the Realm of Faerie is a fairy tale fantasy series that bridges the Mortal and Enchanted worlds. The main character, Melia, is an eighteen-year-old half-faerie, half-mortal.

When the story opens in the first book, Melia is troubled by her dark moon visions, gossip she overhears about her parents at the local market, and the trauma of living among full-blooded faeries with wings–she doesn’t have any.

As the series unfolds, the historic and mystical forces that shape Melia’s life are revealed. Each step of her journey–to find the place where she belongs–alters her perceptions about herself, deepens her relationships with others, and enlarges her world view.

True Love’s First Kiss is a compilation of the first three books in this ongoing series.

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Genre – Fantasy

Rating – PG

More details about the author

Connect with Heidi Garrett on Facebook & Twitter

Blog http://www.heidigwrites.blogspot.com/

The Female Sex: The Depression Cure Just for Ladies by London Tracy @londontracy44


Feeling blue and hopeless, but not sure why?

Is depression robbing you of your zest for life? Is there an emptiness hovering over you, morning, noon and night that you just can't shake? Does the thought of a restful night's sleep seem like a thing of the past?

If this description sounds familiar, this book has beneficial information for you. The author will explain how many times depression is caused by a hormonal imbalance of estrogen and progesterone, which can easily be cured by replenishing these deficiencies with natural medicine.

With millions of women struggling with depression, the author believes that these women should be made aware of all of their options in resolving their depression and not just the options with the best profit margins.

"If you want to know why so many women suffer from depression, read this book."
-Rick Morris, Ph.D, Chicago, Illinois

LONDON TRACY is a self-proclaimed researcher, investigator and advocate for women's health. "The Female Sex, the Depression Cure Just for Ladies" is a compilation of everything that the author has researched and experienced about hormonal depression is women.

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Genre - Nonfiction

Rating – PG

More details about the author

Connect with London Tracy on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://londontracy.wordpress.com

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Thirty Scary Tales by Rayne Hall @RayneHall


Lucie clutched the pole by the exit, willing the train to go faster, urging it to take her further away from Jake.

“May I see your tickets?” singsonged a male voice. “Tickets, please.”

While the seated passengers dug into pockets and rummaged through bags, Lucie reckoned she had about two minutes before she was found out.

She was in luck: The train slowed and hummed to a halt. She pushed the “open” button and jumped out.

The place was dark and deserted, one of those small unstaffed stations. Behind her, the doors beeped and whooshed shut. The train accelerated with a growl and vanished into the night.

A rust-streaked sign proclaimed that she had reached Seelsden: merely five villages from where she had left. Her heart was still thudding from her escape, her mind reeling from the confrontation with Jake, and her thoughts churning in a jumbled mess, but she knew she had to hop onto the next train and this time try to get further.

In the sickly light of a wall lamp, she scanned the time-table poster. Only one train served Seelsden at night: the 11.36pm that had just rumbled away. After that, no trains stopped here until 6.42am.

The small station building was unlit, the door to the waiting room locked. At the contact point - “For Information And Enquiries, Press Here” - a cardboard sign said “out of order.”

She hugged herself against the chill and rubbed her bare arms. Now what?

An empty coke can rattled across the concrete, a crisp wrapper rustled along the track, and somewhere in the distance, a motor whined.

The hamlet of Seelsden was a mile away on that gloomy hill. A lone female trudging up there would put herself at risk from motorised predators, and even if she got there, where would she go? She had no money for a hotel – assuming that the village had one, which was unlikely. Other doors would remain locked. People around here did not open the door to strangers after 8pm, and those who did had unsavoury intentions.

It was safer to stay on the platform, a semi-public place where she could see anyone approaching.

Overhead lamps soaked the station platform in their sulphurous light. The station clock ticked 11.50.

Claws of tiredness spiked at her brain. A warm bed, a cosy duvet, a safe place to spend the night... but there were only the benches along the single platform, with their hard white metal and curving backs. One of them would have to do for the few hours until dawn. She did not need to be comfortable, she just needed sleep.

Lucie picked the one least soiled by pigeon droppings and grime. The metal was cold, and the chill seeped through the thin fabric of her dress into her flesh.

It had been stupid to run away unprepared. She should have kept a bag packed, saved some money, identified places to stay. Instead, she had clung to her denial and her hopes that Jake would mend his ways, until she had no choice and she had to flee without even the chance to grab a jacket.

The jaundiced lamp glowed its disapproval.

If she had had any sense, she would have seen the danger signs as soon as she moved in with Jake – the satisfied pleasure with which he crushed that moth, the way he kept the spider trapped in a glass for weeks before he squashed it, the way his blue eyes gleamed when rough bedroom games escalated in violence – but she had clung to her denial, had shut out the truth even when it banged on her mind and demanded entry. Until tonight, when he had tried to...

No. She would not think about that.

She wanted to curl into a ball with her knees against her chest to keep warm, but the bench was too narrow for that. Cigarette stubs crammed into the gaps still stank of nicotine.

Denial followed by panic - this had always been her mistake. She could see the pattern now. When the lycée discriminated against girls, she meekly accepted it – and then one day she dropped out. When her father's new wife made her life hell, she suffered in silence – and then ran away. When the father of the family where she worked as an au pair made lascivious remarks, she ignored them, but when he tried to paw her, she freaked out, packed and left.

Each time, she could have made a formal complaint, given notice, taken her time to find a better way out. But each time she had denied, then panicked, and each time she had landed in a worse mess.

Midnight. Clouds flitted like pale ghosts across the sliver of moon. In the thicket that flanked the platform, rodent feet scurried.

She had to get some sleep. Dawn would bring warmth, light and clarity of thought.

Not far away, an animal howled. There were no wolves in England, she reminded herself. It had to be a dog. She turned to find a position of acceptable discomfort, one arm under her head and the other across her eyes, blocking out the light.

She woke, shivering. After a moment's disorientation, she realised where she was, and why. What a stupid situation to get into! At least it was over. But wait: the station clock said 2.13 - still four and a half hours before she could get into a train.

A pair of yellow eyes stared, flickered, vanished. There, again. Did England really have no wolves? Hadn't she read somewhere about wolves and foxes spreading into towns? And then there were exotic illegal pets, and big cats escaped from zoos.

Her pulse pounded in her throat. What if it was a hungry panther in search of easy prey? A thousand ants seemed to crawl over her skin.

Why hadn't she stayed on that train? Why hadn't she stayed at home?

Silence. Wind swished through the treetops.

She needed to go to the loo, really bad. But the railway companies had closed station toilets. Cost saving, budget cuts.

Another four hours before the train would take her away. And then, what? She still had no money, still had nowhere to go.

At least, the train would have a toilet. Probably. But could she hold out until then? The pressure on her bladder increased. Sleep wouldn't come back until she had a pee.

She squatted by the metal fence at the edge of the thicket, releasing a hot stream. Nothing stirred in the undergrowth. No eyes, no animal. She had imagined things because of her overwrought nerves. Already, she felt better. Even her panic about Jake subsided, and her thinking grew rational.

Running away like this had been stupid. If she had held out just a few more hours, she could have left in the morning with her clothes, with some money, with a proper plan.

Had she submitted until his violent lust was spent, she would have some bruises, but she would be lying in her own bed, cosy and warm.

Silly panic. How could she have thought Jake would kill her? He had different erotic tastes and sometimes he got carried away, that was all. She should have talked with him about her concerns and explained that they were not compatible. They could have had a rational discussion and broken up civilly. No need to panic, no need to run like a madwoman, no need to spend the night on a platform bench.

Those eyes again. And a second pair. Lucie's breath stalled, and fear clenched like a tight fist around her chest.

If only she had a weapon! That empty coke can over there – but it wouldn't help much even if she could reach it.

She lowered her lids, hoping this made her own eyes less visible to the beasts. But they had probably already taken her scent and were waiting to pounce. Would the metal fence keep them out? The bars were a handspan apart; too narrow for a big animal to squeeze through, she hoped. Another five minutes ticked by. Six.

She tried to hold absolutely still, so the predators would not see her move. How ironic: by fleeing from Jake, she had put herself in real danger. Instead of beaten by an intemperate lover, her flesh would be ripped by wild beasts.

If Jake were here, she would not be frightened. He would chase away the beasts, real or imagined.

A motor vroomed down the road. Twigs cracked, and when she opened her eyes a crack, the four gleaming pupils had vanished as if they had read her thoughts.

Where were the eyes now? Did she dare hope they had left? She breathed into her abdomen to still her racing heart. If she could get through the night, she would be more sensible in the future. She would talk things through with the persons concerned. No more rash running.

The night grew colder still, and the station clock seemed paralysed, taking an eternity to advance by even one minute.

Wind rustled the leaves in the thicket, and the bushes seemed filled with flickering eyes - a trick of the moonlight glinting of pale leaves. As usual, she had overreacted, worked herself into a pointless panic. She had to get a grip on herself and stop indulging in silly fears.

Tiredness gritted her eyes and blocked her thought, and she must have slept, because when she looked again, the clock stood at 3.04. The bench had grown harder still, and the temperature had dropped beyond what any human would willingly endure. She rubbed her feet, trying to massage life into her icy toes.

Faint nausea rose from her stomach, and a headache threatened to split her skull. She remembered the week when she was ill, too sick to leave the bed. Jake had taken care of her, feeding her dry toast and sips of water, washing her limbs, emptying the vomit bowls, all with an angel's patience and a lover's tenderness.

A motor stuttered to a halt, a car door slammed.

Her mind raced through scenarios in which someone would drive to a deserted railway station where no train stopped at night. None of them was reassuring.

Heavy steps thudded on the tarmac, came closer.

It was best if the person did not see her here. She squeezed tighter against the curved back of the bench, the icy metal pressing into her cheek.

Thud, thud, thud.

Bunched keys jingled with every harsh step.


Jake! A warm wave of relief swept through her.

“Thank heaven, I've found you. I've searched everywhere.” The familiarity of his firm, gentle voice enveloped her.

His shirt was unevenly buttoned, and stubble shadowed his jaw. He slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “I've been worried sick. In the car, I have a thermos with hot tea.”

She followed him out of the station gate to the car park. “I'm sorry I overreacted. When I saw that rope... I thought.. I panicked....”

“It's my fault, Lucie,” he said gently. “I should have explained what I was doing. Of course you were frightened. We need to talk. But first, I'll take you home. You look like you could do with some sleep.”

He held the passenger door open and waited until she had sunk into the seat. The familiar smells – pine air freshener, fish & chips, milky tea - hugged her with their familiarity. Her mind sank into drowsy warmth.

Their relationship was doomed, she would tell Jake that. But she appreciated the trouble he had gone to to find her, and she would tell him that too. In her own time. No rush.

He got in on the driver's side, pulled his door shut, and snapped the central locking.

“Look at me, Lucie.” His blue eyes gleamed, and his smile bared teeth. “See what I've brought.”

His hands held the thumb-thick rope.

Thirty Scary Tales

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Genre – Horror

Rating – PG-13

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Monday, November 4, 2013

Author Interview – Mark David Major & Layce Boswell @markdmajor

Image of Mark David Major

Mark David Major

Who are your favorite authors?

MARK: J.R.R. Tolkien, J.K. Rowling, Milan Kundera, Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury

What book genre of books do you adore?

MARK: Harry Potter

What book should everybody read at least once?

LAYCE BOSWELL: The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand

MARK: The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank

Is there any book you really didn’t enjoy?

MARK: I really, really, really, really tried to read Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernieres over a couple of years but I finally had to concede that, for me, it was unreadable and gave up.

Have you read any books recently that surprised you?

MARK: Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist. I belatedly approached the novel with trepidation. Because of the film adaptations, I thought it would be another sad attempt to cash in on the Twilight phenomenon. I was pleasantly surprised to discover it was a real (even disturbing) horror story but completely brilliant. It is definitely a book for adults, not tweens.


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Genre – Juvenile Fiction/Bedtime and Dreams

Rating – G

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Sunday, November 3, 2013

What Lies Inside by J.L. Myers @BloodBoundJLM


My mind screamed for me to move. To fight the monster who trapped me with its arms. But my body remained paralyzed, a prisoner of flesh and bone. It wasn’t fear. I knew that much. Inside I was striking out with limbs, nails, and teeth. But any connection to actual movement was lost. My whole body felt like it was filled with cement.

Parted lips closed in on my neck. My eyes darted around, desperate to find a way out of this. Darkness stretched beyond the waning light of a naked bulb. There was a single door, then nothing but damp stone and shadow. The stink of death and decay hung thick in the air. Horror seeped through my veins.

There was nothing I could do. No way to stop this. No way to save my life.

The sound of labored breath rasped. Not my own. Not this monster’s. In the shadows it was impossible to see where it came from. Was someone watching? Fear snaked through my soul. The fear wasn’t for my own life, not really. I was afraid for someone else. But who?

Any thoughts vanished as fangs punctured my flesh. A gasp escaped my lips.

Flames bloomed from the punctures, swarming across my skin. The monster clutched my body tighter and tighter with every sickening gulp.

As the flames began to dull, my internal screams and my drive to fight faded. Without the current of blood filling my veins, violent shivers took hold of my entire body.

My body was giving up.

With shallow contractions, my heart slowed. My mind wavered as my body began to fail. The crushing pain of imminent death faded. As my eyes fluttered shut, a memory of the boy I loved floated across the backs of my eyelids. I saw his dejected expression. I felt the moment he had crushed me against his body, covering my lips with his. Then I heard the words he had spoken for the very first time. “Amelia, I love you.”

An icy tear escaped my eye. Now he would never know the truth. Never know that my feelings for him were still as irrefutable and irrevocable as ever. Never know that I would give anything just to be in his arms and feel the warmth of his kiss one last time. The realization was more agonizing than knowing my fate now, more agonizing than any lingering pain.

I love you too. The memory faded, dissipating like a cloud of smoke.

The room began to blur and spin. Unable to blink, my eyes stared up at the dusty light bulb. Blood loss pressed in on me. I was so deathly cold. The edge of my vision turned black, light being eaten away by a stain like blotted ink. Then empty darkness took hold.

This is it, I thought. I’m dying.


What Lies Inside

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Genre – YA Paranormal Romance

Rating – PG-13+

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Website http://bloodboundnovels.com

Author Interview – Vadim Babenko

Do you have any advice for writers? I don’t feel I have any right to give advice, or that I know any more or anything better than other writers.

What do you do to unwind and relax? I ski in the Alps, I play tennis, and I travel a lot.

What dreams have been realized as a result of your writing? None. I’ve never had any dreams related to writing. I only have one goal: to write as well as I can.

Tell us a bit about your family. My father and mother are typical Soviet Union folks: very well educated, with strong moral principles. “Never take bribes, never steal, never betray your friends,” is what I learned from my childhood. Then, when I moved to the US, those things were combined with the American principles, “never explain, never complain,” which completed my list of values. :)   I must add that my parents are both 75 now, and they are still really full of energy!

I’m living with my third wife, Asha, and we are very much in love. My latest book, SEMMANT, is dedicated to her.

What is your least favorite quality about yourself? I have a very short temper.

What are you most proud of accomplishing so far in your life? I have always done only what I wanted.

What is your favorite food? Asian, of every kind.

What’s your favorite place in the entire world? Outer Banks, NC, USA

How has your upbringing influenced your writing? I received an excellent education – for which I’m very grateful to the Soviet Union, a country that no longer exists. And I grew up reading great Russian literature, which significantly shaped my literary tastes.

Perhaps the most important thing I got from my childhood and my youth is a habit of not being frightened by problems that appear unsolvable, or goals that look unachievable. And that’s important for a writer: when you start a book it often seems impossible to take all those diverse thoughts that scurry through your head and put them into words on a page. :)

A brilliant scientist creates a brilliant robot. Working together, they beat the stock market. But which one will survive the battle for love?

When Bogdan Bogdanov, a troubled cybernetics genius, creates Semmant, a robot living inside a computer, he feels on top of the world. Semmant takes on the capital markets and makes money with the ruthless efficiency of a machine. Bogdan grows richer by the day, but when he falls deeply for the irresistible Lidia, Semmant’s artificial mind faces a new challenge. The robot becomes involved in a genuine human drama and is forced to confront the cruelty of real life. He discovers the eternal joy of what it means to have free will, but it takes him to a destination no one could have predicted.

This is a tale of lust and affection, an erotically charged story of betrayal and murder. It explores the scope of human feelings from a truly unique point of view. Universal chaos and the strict laws of society; precise mathematical rules and the elusive nature of love: all interact and clash, working together and against one another. Tragedy looms, but free will fights back – bringing hope that lasts forever.

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Genre – Literary Fiction

Rating – NC17

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Connect with Vadim Babenko on GoodReads

Website http://www.vadimbabenko.com/