Make Welcome Susannah Sandlin

Today I have the lovely and talented Susannah Sandlin who has agreed to answer a few questions for us to get to know her better. And what a yummy cover! Don't you all agree? The book sounds amazing. 

Thanks for coming today, Savannah.

How do you respond when someone says... "Oh, you write THAT kind of book?"

Usually, I just say, “Oh, these are my smut books,” and they think I’m joking. (The joke’s on them!) But lately, instead of “Oh, you write THAT kind of book,” I’m getting, “Oh, is it like Fifty Shades of Grey?” Uh… if the guy in 50 Shades has fangs and is 400 years old, then, sure. Whatever.

I'm hearing that all the time now. *sigh* 

How many books do you read a month? What was the name of the last book you read?

Not nearly as many as I’d like. I also write an urban fantasy series under another name, and between the two series and my daily book blog, Preternatura, it limits my reading time. But I probably average two or three a month. The last book I read was (okay, don’t judge) Cannibal Reign by Thomas Koloniar—I have a weakness for a good apocalypse. It was a DNF for me, though. So the last book I actually finished was Marta Acosta’s gothic YA recasting of Jane Eyre, Dark Companion. Not a romance, except in a dark way, but a very, very interesting book.
 

I love a good apocalypse now and then myself. I can skip the zombies, however. 

Do you have anything new in the works?

I just finished copyedits on the second book in the Penton Legacy series, Absolution, which comes out in October, and am furiously writing Omega, book three, scheduled to come out in December.

December? Wow, that's not a lot of time. Fingers crossed to make deadline. 

Where can we find you?

At my website (http://www.susannahsandlin.com),

 at my alter-ego’s daily blog (http://suzanne-johnson.blogspot.com), 

Where can we find your books?

On Amazon (the Kindle book is on sale for $3.99 right now!)

On B&N.com

At Book Depository

What are your thoughts on self publishing?

I have mixed feelings about it. Because so many authors are self-pubbing now, it’s hard for a debut author to rise from the sea of books. Too many are not getting the professional editing and cover design done that is needed, as well. I’m not saying I’d never do it—I do think it’s a great option for a lot of authors who are taking control of their backlists—but at this stage in my career, I want the marketing and editing and design pros behind me. The attractive thing about self-pubbing, of course, is controlling your price, trying some different things with your marketing, and the higher royalty rates.

Tell us something about your current release that you've not told any other blog.

This book started off as an urban fantasy with paranormal elements I began during NaNoWriMo in 2010. But it straddled the line between UF and PNR and just never quite jelled until I took the advice of an editor and rewrote it as a paranormal romance. It’s also the first book I’ve written from multiple POVs—there are five point-of-view characters in Redemption, one of whom is Mirren Kincaid, the hero of book two.

And the most important question ever... Toilet paper...over or under? 

That IS important! Over, baby. I’ve even (shhhh….don’t tell) taken off the TP roll in the restroom at my day job and turned it over. How sad is that?

NOT SAD AT ALL! 

Now let's hear a little bit more about your release:

REDEMPTION

Book One Penton Legacy series

By Susannah Sandlin

Following a worldwide pandemic whose vaccine left human blood deadly to vampires, the vampire community is on the verge of starvation and panic. Some have fanned into rural areas, where the vaccine was less prevalent, and are taking unsuspecting humans as blood slaves. Others are simply starving, which for a vampire is worse than death—a raging hunger in a creature too weak to feed.

Immune to these struggles—at first—is Penton, a tiny community in rural Chambers County, Alabama, an abandoned cotton mill town that has been repopulated by charismatic vampire Aidan Murphy, his scathe of 50 vampires, and their willingly bonded humans. Aidan has recruited his people carefully, believing in a peaceful community where the humans are respected and the vampires retain a bit of their humanity.

But an unresolved family feud and the paranoia of the Vampire Tribunal descend on Penton in the form of Aidan’s brother, Owen Murphy. Owen has been issued a death warrant that can only be commuted if he destroys Penton—and Aidan, against whom he’s held a grudge since both were turned vampire in 17th-century Ireland.  Owen begins a systematic attack on the town, first killing its doctor, then attacking one of Aidan’s own human familiars

To protect his people, Aidan is forced to go against his principles and kidnap an unvaccinated human doctor—and finds himself falling in love for the first time since the death of his wife in Ireland centuries ago. 

Dr. Krystal Harris, forced into a world she never knew existed, must face up to her own abusive past to learn if the feelings she’s developing for her kidnapper are real—or just a warped, supernatural kind of Stockholm Syndrome in which she’s allowing herself to become a victim yet again.

Susannah Sandlin’s REDEMPTION is the first in the Penton Legacy series. Book two, ABSOLUTION, will be out September 18, and book three, OMEGA, on December 18.

Amazon      Barnes and Noble     Book Depository

About the Author:

Susannah Sandlin is the author of paranormal romance set in the Deep South, where there are always things that go bump in the night! A journalist by day, Susannah grew up in Alabama reading the gothic novels of Susan Howatch, and always fancied herself living in Cornwall (although she’s never actually been there). Details, details. She also is a fan of Stephen King. The combination of Howatch and King probably explains a lot. Currently a resident of Auburn, Alabama, Susannah has also lived in Illinois, Texas, California, and Louisiana. Her novel Redemption won the paranormal romance category in the 2011 Chicago North RWA Fire and Ice contest, and is the first of three in a series that debuts this year.Website/Blog: http://www.susannahsandlin.com

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/susannahsandlin

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/susannahsandlin

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5828129.Susannah_Sandlin

Indie Bound: http://www.indiebound.org/book/9781612183541

Author Spotlight ~ Jacqueline Gardner

Mutiny 

M.E.R. series, #1 

Book Blurb: 

Eric's life aboard a top secret stealth submarine as a member of the government’s M.E.R. program has been about discipline, cunning and survival. 

As both a soldier and a natural born regenerator, he can heal from any wound, but to stay alive he must accept a vein-burning serum that prevents his DNA from over-mutating. In exchange Eric must follow his Chief Commander’s every order. And never ask questions, no matter the assignment. 

When he goes ashore on his first solo mission he runs into a complication he didn't expect; Mariella, the target’s daughter. She’s about to change everything.

Author Bio: 

 Jacqueline Gardner works as a Story Editor for the production company, Labragirl Pictures. Her love of storytelling began at an early age when she would make up stories with her grandmother before bedtime. 

 In early 2010, she completed her first novel and has been stuck on writing ever since. She resides in Colorado and loves hiking, writing, fantasy fiction, and all things cupcake. 

 Website: www.jacquelinegardner.com 

 Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorjacquelinegardner

 Twitter: @Writer_Jacque

The Allure of the Alpha Bad Boy ~ Guest blog

The Allure of the Alpha Bad Boy

By Theresa Meyers

First off, let me say congratulations to you Catherine, for your book Wife by Wednesday hitting the lists! And those new covers, my goodness, those are going to fly off the shelves. Love them!

Just from those covers alone I can tell you know the allure of the alpha bad boy. There’s just something about them, isn’t there? You know you shouldn’t. You know it could be dangerous, but they just make all your girl parts sit up and take notice.

Most of the time bad boys are bad news because they tend to take what they want and walk away without a thought leaving a trail of broken hearts behind them. But that’s not all bad boys. My heroine, Raina Ravenwing in The Half-Breed Vampire has a particular issue with bad boys. One caused her to nearly walk away from her tribe when she was younger and away at college. She almost never went back to her small town. But Raina has got a responsibility bone the size of the Golden Gate Bridge. No matter how much she’d like to avoid the traditional role her tribe has foisted upon her shoulders as the Wolf Whisperer for her tribe (their connection to the ancestors), she feels bound by both love and duty to take the role on herself and try to modernize it to help bring her people into the modern world. The problem is Slade Donovan.

A vampire with exceptional tracking skills, she’s forced to team up with him if she wants to find out the location of the elusive large wolves that are stalking her small community and find a missing teen. But Slade is bad boy from cocky smile to the tips of his big black combat boots. He has no intention of settling down, doesn’t care for small towns and adores his motorcycle.

While Raina knows it can’t possibly work out, she also can’t resist a guy who’s tough as nail but protective of those around him. One with a snarky sense of humor, even if it does annoy the hell out of her when he calls her babe instead of Officer Ravenwing. He’s temptation with a throbbing, red neon capital T.

Like Raina perhaps why bad boys are so appeal is their devil-may-care no-holds-barred approach to life. They seem to be a prime example of grabbing life a hold of the handle bars and going for one hell of a ride with the wind in your hair. On the other hand, what makes a bad boy even better is one that is so totally focused on you that you feel like the whole world doesn’t exist outside of the two of you. Add to that a heart with real feelings, and you’ve got not just a bad boy, but a keeper.

So my question for you is, what makes a bad boy appealing to you?

Top 10 reasons we love Highlanders by LL Muir

Please make welcome my hysterical guest, LL Muir. And please...add your reasons why we MUST read and follow these shirtless, kilted men wherever they may go!

First, I just have to say I’m so excited to be on Catherine Bybee’s blog I’m not even going to sit down—THE WHOLE TIME I’M HERE.

In honor of what Catherine and I have in common, I thought I might give a list of the ten reasons why Highlander stories float our boats.

#10. Of course Scotland is going to remain mysterious when most universities don’t offer courses in their language.

#9. Braveheart. Despite its historical flaws...Braveheart.

#8. It takes a braw lad to wield those enormous swords. We’re impressed by strength, not by muscles. *cough* *cough* What?

#7. If we don’t buy Highlander books, those poor men will never earn enough to buy a shirt. “Bye, honey! I’m off to donate to the PLSF--Poor Laddie Shirt Fund!”

#6. They don’t have the slightest idea what a metro-sexual is.

#5. Those braids at his temples come in handy when climbing his chest.

#4. They fear nothing, not even each other.

#3. Have you ever heard a Scottish brogue? Did you follow him home...and forget where you parked your minivan-full of kids?

#2. It’s required. If something purrs, you’re compelled to rub it’s tummy.

And #1. Because we all know what a Scotsman doesn’t wear beneath his kilt. That kind of ever-present danger is like a plate of brownies covered LOOSELY by a piece of foil. And yeah, the danger comes from us.

If you’ve got a reason better than these, please share it, so we may gather over a plate of brownies and nod our heads.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GOING BACK FOR ROMEO

By L.L. Muir

Alone, with a Highlander, in his castle, on a cold dark night...

(Okay, so it wasn’t that cold.)

Jillian MacKay is being conned by a pair of eighty-year-old witches. They’re convinced she’s the perfect sucker to test a prophecy and they’re willing to bury her alive to prove it. Once she escapes and finds herself in 15th Century Scotland, she believes her return home depends on a heroic deed—she must rescue a plaid-clad Romeo and Juliet before tragedy can strike.  The monster standing in her way, however, is a handsome Highlander who might just be her own Romeo...a Romeo she must leave behind.

Rather than surrender his secrets, Montgomery Ross would prefer to go down in history as the heartless creature who betrayed one sister and buried the other alive.  When he falls in love with the prophesied faery who has come to expose him, he'll have to learn a wee lesson from the star-crossed lovers or suffer the fate to which he once condemned them.

Amazon    B&N

Excerpt

 Castle Ross, East Burnshire, Scotland  1494

                 

Odd.                  

The stone closest to Laird Montgomery Ross’s foot looked to be the same shape as the hole remaining in the side of his sister's tomb, but he refused to reach for it.

"Nay.  I'm not ready to be finished."  Monty whispered his complaint to God, for surely it was God's hand that wrought such an appropriately shaped thing. 

Behind him, one of the priests cleared his throat.  Monty knew without looking it had been the fat one who could not cease rubbing his hands together, even while Monty’s sister was led inside her would-be grave.  The bastard had been rubbing them for a fair two days, since he’d arrived to try Isobelle as a witch.  No doubt they were itchy for the feel of a woman’s neck since Monty had cheated them out of wringing his sister’s.

He could let the priest live, or he could be silent, but Monty could not manage both.

"If you canna seem to clean those hands, Father,” he said without turning away from his morbid creation, “I'd be happy to rid you of them before I finish my task here.  I'm sure my sister wouldna mind the wait."

A gasp of outrage was followed by silence, although the Great Hall was filled to the corners with his clan.  Those who could not find space inside would soon enough hear of each stone lovingly placed as their laird buried his sister alive within their very hall, upon the stone dais, behind the great Ross Chair.  Hopefully they would remember Isobelle’s bravery and not how oft his tears mingled with the mortar.

None breathed, none dared rub their hands.  How could he possibly continue?  How could he not?

“Nay, I wouldna mind a bit, if you’re quick about it, brother mine.” Isobelle’s voice echoed eerily from the tomb and she smirked at him from within the tiny patch of light the same shape as the odd stone. “In fact, toss the bloody things in here with me and I’ll leave them at the gates of hell.  Himself can collect them when he arrives.” 

Her unholy laughter no doubt had even the dogs wishing they could cross themselves, but it was music to Monty’s ears.  The Kirk’s men allowed her no blanket, but she’d have the image of revenge to keep her warm. 

“Isobelle!” Morna screamed.  Monty’s other sister stood off to his right, restrained by her puny Gordon husband.  “’Tis all my fault.  Forgive me.”

Isobelle’s sober face came forward to fill the hole as she searched for Morna, giving Monty one last glimpse of red hair.

“Morna, love.  Dinna greet.  The faery will come to make it all right again.  Watch for the faery...and keep away from your husband!”

“Silence!” the robed bastard roared. 

Isobelle laughed again, backing away from the hole.  After all, what could the man do to her now? 

Monty would not ruin her00 trust in the blasted faery, but if the creature ever placed its magic toe on Ross land, it would be dead before it ever took a breath of heathered air.

‘Twas time.

He looked at the stone.

‘Twas meant.

“I love you, sister mine.”  His words were quiet, for Isobelle alone.

“And I you, Monty.  Blow us a kiss.”

When he raised his crusted fingers to his lips, his palm filled with tears but they washed none of the nightmare away. He blew a kiss that was instantly returned.

“I’m stayin’ right here, pet.  Ye’re no’ alone.”

“Get on, then.”  The whimper in her voice was slight.  “I’ll have a wee nap if ye’ll but douse the light.”

With a final wink she disappeared.

Monty reached for the stone, dipped its edges in muck, and pushed it home, breaking his heart in the doing.  After long moments of stillness, his hands slowly opened and dropped away. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Morna swoon, but someone else would have to catch her—someone without mud or blood on his hands.  Morna wouldn’t welcome his comfort anyhow.  She claimed it was her fault, but he knew both sisters blamed him.

If he’d have known the outcome, would he have acted differently?  What kind of bastard would not?

There was no stopping the twisting of his face, the sob from his chest. He turned his head to the side and bellowed, “Out!”

Nearly everyone fled or slithered from the hall, all but The Kirk’s henchmen who would stay until they believed his sister dead.  Only then did he hear the muffled sobs of Isobelle.  She sounded as if she were deep in the ground. 

His heart shuddered with cold.  Dear God, what had he been thinking?  His plan was madness; she would never last.  Not enough time.  He had to get her out!

He reached for the odd stone...and was struck soundly from behind.

About LL Muir

About the Author:

L.L. Muir lives with Superman in the shadows of the Rocky Mountains. They are raising numerous super-heroes for society, but none will wear tights. Currently, she writes Scottish & Regency historicals and paranormal fiction for both adult and young adult readers. She is represented by Cori Deyoe of Three Seas Literary Agency.

Her hobbies are:

*stalking kilt-wearers at the local Scottish Festival and Highland Games.
*making up stories about those kilt-wearers
*trying to get the men in her life to wear kilts

Before writing full-time, she owned a flower shop called The Scottish Rose. She'd often answer the phone sounding like Mrs. Doubtfire...until a gentleman customer asked to speak with the Scottish woman who owned the place.

Website: www.llmuir.weebly.com

Blog: www.writersblockbuster.blogspot.com

Twitter @LLMuir

Avery Flynn Blog Tour Stop

Please make welcome Avery Flynn on her blog tour for her latest release, A Dry Creek Bed. Today she's talking about family and how she explored what family means to her.

The Meaning of Family

By Avery Flynn

More than seven million women in the United States have an impaired ability to have children.

Slightly more than two million married women between the ages of fifteen and forty-four are infertile.

Nearly twelve percent of women between the ages of fifteen and forty-four have received infertility services.

Many women are childless by choice and I say more power to them. However, there are millions of women out there who are unable to conceive despite it being their greatest wish and they report often feeling alone in their struggle. My heart breaks for them.

I have three rugrats of my own, but spent quite a bit of time researching infertility issues before writing A Dry Creek Bed, the second in my hot and steamy romantic suspense series. With A Dry Creek Bed, I really wanted to explore the idea of family and what the word parent really means.

Beth Martinez is the heroine of A Dry Creek Bed and she’s recently had a hysterectomy because of a fibroid tumor. This has rocked Beth’s world. Her parents died when she was eight, the grandparents who raised her have passed on and now she won’t be able to have children of her own.

To twist the knife even more, she’s been in love with Dry Creek County Sheriff Hank Layton for most of her life. Hank wants Beth, there’s no doubt about it, but he also wants to start a family and Beth’s emotions are so tangled ups she’s not sure if she ever wants to adopt. Not wanting to force Hank to give up his dreams of a family or make him feel obligated to stay with her, Beth keeps her infertility a secret and denies she has any interest in him.

Hank can’t stop thinking about Beth to the point where he’s afraid of becoming permanently bowlegged. And even though the sexual tension between them is thick enough to trip over, she runs every time he chases.

But when a mysterious developer forces her neighbors off their land, Beth becomes the one person standing between the scoundrel and millions of dollars. Only Hank can help her uncover the truth. Together they risk their lives exposing decades-old secrets and learn that everything is not as it seems in their rural Nebraska town. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dry Creek Bed

By Avery Flynn

Book 2

Blurb

"I do believe I can arrest you for looking at someone like that. You've got to be breaking some indecency laws."

Taking a deep breath, she recovered her bearings. Mostly. "You're out of your jurisdiction, sheriff."

Dry Creek County Sheriff Hank Layton is the stuff of dreams. Nasty, steamy, delicious fantasies that leave Beth Martinez weak-kneed and desperately wanting the man she can never have.

Hank can’t stop thinking about Beth to the point where he’s afraid of becoming permanently bowlegged. And even though the sexual tension between them is thick enough to trip over, she runs every time he chases.

But when a mysterious developer forces her neighbors off their land, Beth becomes the one person standing between the scoundrel and millions of dollars. Only Hank can help her uncover the truth. Together they risk their lives exposing decades-old secrets and learn that everything is not as it seems in their rural Nebraska town. 

A Dry Creek Bed Excerpt - The Kiss

She stopped with her back to him. "One kiss?

“One little kiss.”

A fall breeze brushed the tips of her mahogany hair across her back and she straightened her shoulders. Spinning around, she made her way back to him with a fuck-you strut. Stopping just short of his feet, she dropped her gym bag. It hit the pavement with a thud, the whole world seeming to have gone silent around them.

"Let's get it over with."

Something primal inside of him howled its approval. He wanted to devour her full lips then and there.

Stick to the plan, dude.

He held firm. Barely. "OK, you can kiss me."

"Wait a minute -"

"You're the one who says there's nothing between us, so I figure you should set the tone of the kiss. It's up to you to disprove my theory."

"Of all the stupid things." She huffed out a breath. "Fine."

Hank held his breath, hoping all his bluster would pay off. God, this woman undid him. 

She laid her soft hand against his chest. There was no way she could miss the hammering behind his ribs. Navy blue nails shone bright against the red of his cotton shirt. Her shoulders twitched with a shiver. A flicker of doubt shook him. Maybe she'd ignored him after the party for a reason. 

Then her lips touched his. Chocolate and caramel coffee teased his taste buds as their tongues twisted around each other.

His hands roamed to the bottom of her soft, wool sweater, snuck underneath the hem and caressed the soft skin above the low waist of her jeans.

Her vanilla perfume surrounded him as he lowered his mouth to taste the sweetness of her neck. He lost himself to the hungry lust streaming through his veins and the moaning woman in his arms. There was no street, no gawking neighbors, no one else in the world.

"Hank, stop." Beth's breath brushed against his cheek.

More plea than demand, her words sliced through his euphoria. Unwilling to let her go yet, he lifted his head but kept his fingers tucked into her waistband. Still tasting her on his lips, he couldn't form any words.

A flush pinked her cheeks as she pursed her kiss-swollen lips. "So ... that's ... out of the way."

Her hand shook when she patted him on the chest, her fingers lingering for a few seconds over his pounding heart. With a sigh she pulled out of his embrace and trudged up to the house, never looking back.

She thought this was over? After a kiss like that? His balls couldn't be any bluer if they were made of blueberries. For a smart woman, she sure wasn't thinking straight.

 

About the Author:

Avery Flynn, the author of UP A DRY CREEK and A Dry Creek Bed, books one and two in the Dry Creek series set in Nebraska, grew up in a small town in the western part of that state, a far cry from her present day home just outside of Washington, D.C. It was no accident that she went back to her roots for the small town setting for her romantic suspense. 

“When I graduated high school,” she says, “I couldn’t cross the state line fast enough.  The older I got and the farther I moved away, the more I realized what a wonderful place Nebraska had been to live.  I swore I’d set a novel there as a way to give people a look into the amazing folks that live in my home state.”

The name Avery Flynn is a pseudonym for the author who, at least for now, prefers to remain behind the scenes.  She believes having Avery as her alter ego is a very good thing because, as she says, “Pen name Avery is way cooler than me. Her favorite color is hot pink. She drinks single malt scotch on the rocks. She loves the Argentinean tango and stays at Iceland’s Ice Hotel.” 

Author Avery has been writing since she was a child and her father gave her a baby blue Brother typewriter. She couldn’t read but nonetheless wrote numerous stories about her stuffed animals in gibberish. She hasn’t stopped since, though she maintains that her spelling has gotten much better and she now prefers to write in English.

Today she’s enjoying her own happily ever after with her dashing husband, three crazy kids and two arthritic dogs.  She dreams of one day having a floor-to-ceiling library à la Beauty and the Beast and is working to perfect the coffee IV drip.  

http://www.averyflynn.com

 http://www.evernightpublishing.com

Twitter: @averyflynn

Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Avery-Flynn/177161972329973

The Last Awakening ~ Rachel Firasek ~ Promo Stop

I have the pleasure of hosting a promo spot for Rachel Firasek on her blog tour.

CURSE OF THE PHOENIX - Book Two

Title: TheLast Awakening

(Curse of the Phoenix, #2)
Author: Rachel Firasek
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Length: Novella
Release Date: December 2011
ISBN: 978-1-937044-44-1
 

Book Description:

For three hundred years, Arabella’s life has been one meaningless death after another. In a cruel twist of fate, Osiris–god of the Underworld–gifts the phoenix her mortality and returns her voodoo magic. If she fails to harness her wayward magic and save a man worthy of a second chance, she’ll forfeit her power and her soul–forever.

Ex-soldier Greyson Meadows desperately wants to be freed from the nightmares and guilt that haunt him after the tragedy that brought him and Ari together. Confronted by the waif of a woman who forces him to face his worst fears, he resists, fighting the need to keep his personal demons hidden instead of setting them free.

When Ari becomes the target of her own magical blunder, it’s not just her life in danger, but now the one of the man she loves.

Excerpt - Chapter One

A snow-sleet mix pelted the flapping windshield wipers and doused the inside of the cab with a bone-freezing chill. The driver ignored any discomfort and even cracked his window to belch through the seam, then took a drag off his cigarette.

Mon Dieu, she had to pick this taxi. Arabella Durand shifted away from the smoke that mixed with the irritating atmosphere. A more perfect mood couldn’t have been staged for her pending death.

The driver belched again, filling the car with his noxious stench. Much more of him and she’d find a way to hang herself now and hope her next soul found his or her own way to survive—to hell with Osiris and his orders. But she couldn’t. She was only allowed to die for him, the Egyptian god of the Underworld, and who knew what he would test her with if she failed? Probably another three hundred years of purgatory.

She had only one option: find her mark and die. It was a cruel trick of nature, and in all the years she’d been at it, she’d never understood. No one had been there to save her people—from her. No. The god obviously hadn’t thought them worthy of a second chance. And he sure as hell didn’t think she’d learned enough to find peace in death.

The cab rolled to a stop in front of the flickering Country Store sign that highlighted the cabbie twisting in the seat. Thank the Loa for answering her prayers to end the torturous ride. Long strands of hair fell against his face as he draped a beefy arm over the back of the passenger-seat headrest. He resembled Popeye with his bulging muscles and too-tight shirt—but instead of a pretty sailor tattoo, he had a dagger piercing a skull surrounded by snakes inked into his arm. The warning didn’t go unnoticed. Ari believed in the signs the deities chose to bless on her.

The driver grunted. “Lady, are you sure?”

Sure that she’d suffer? Yes.

Sure that she’d die? Yes.

Sure that what she was about to do mattered to someone else? Yes.

Would it be enough? She paid a price with each death, but she didn’t know if she’d ever forgive herself. Too many sins laid their heads at her door.

“Yes.” She passed him a hundred—twenty more than the ride deserved—which was the last of her hard-earned cash. She’d spent the past few months as a nanny for a temp agency—not the highest-paying job around. Soon she wouldn’t need it anyway. Scooting across the seat, she held one hand to the scarf wrapped tightly around her hair. In this weather it would curl into an untamable mass and she wanted to look her best when she met the afterlife. The trip to the sun, Osiris’s home for now, would take its toll. No reason to help it along. Besides, she’d never hear the end of it if Sadie—her sister phoenix—saw her looking less than perfect.

To the women she’d spent the last three hundred years with, she was the strongest in the group. They gravitated to her whenever there was a problem, believing she would fix it or that she’d offer up some bit of wisdom to either make them laugh or cure their worries. Evidently, practicing voodoo and acting as the priestess to her village made her “all knowing.”

She’d never shared the deep sorrow she lived with, and she wouldn’t. This was her penance, her problem. She’d never tell them that she was a murderess who couldn’t face the pain of her past. She’d never see the disgust pass over their faces when they learned she’d wiped out her family and friends in one spell gone bad.

The driver cleared his throat, drawing her back to the problem at hand. One bushy eyebrow rose. “You staying or going?”

“Going.” She scooted to the edge of the seat and called back, “Merci.”

The passenger window hummed, lowering and allowing the man’s bellow to catch her while she picked her way across the frozen ground. What now?

He leaned forward with one arm planted across the back of the seat. “It’s a long way back to town. Should I wait?”

Ice droplets slapped against her slim-fitting, white leather jacket. Despite the misery caused by the rain, she couldn’t ignore him. She hadn’t expected concern from the man who hadn’t said more than a handful of sentences during the half-hour drive here. Hoping the smile she plastered on her face didn’t show the pain shuddering through her, Ari shook her head. “No, thank you.”

Wouldn’t do any good—after the god was done with her, there wouldn’t be anything left.

She spun back around and hurried toward her target and the shack/station/grocery. The store’s crack-riddled bricks supported a wavy roof. One corner of the metal topping smacked against the building with the rhythm of the wind. A few more cadences and she’d have all the makings of a good ritual beat. How many hours had she danced in front of a roaring fire to heal her people?

Let it go, girl. You can’t help them now.

http://www.entangledpublishing.com/the-last-awakening/

About the Author:

Rachel Firasek grew up in the south and despite the gentle pace, she harassed life at full steam. Her curiosity about mythology, human nature, and the chemical imbalance we call love led her to writing. Her stories began with macabre war poems and shifted to enchanted fairytales, before she settled on a blending of the two.

Today you’ll find her tucked on a small parcel of land, surrounded by bleating sheep and barking dogs, with her husband and children. She entertains them all with her wacky sense of humor or animated reenactments of bad 80’s dance moves.

She’s intrigued by anything unexplained and seeks the answers to this crazy thing we call life. You can find her where the heart twists the soul and lights the shadows… or at www.rachelfirasek.com .