Just Imagine

Just Imagine

Feeling chatty?

Welcome to my blog! Pull up a chair, grab a cup of coffee and read what's on my mind. I've a vicious sense of humor, an apprecation for romance and a mad addiction to writing.

Thursday, February 22, 2018

New Release & MEGA Cover Reveal! #romance

Exciting news!! The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning’s epic conclusion is right around the corner. Scoop up your copy of Avenged by a Highland Laird now, so you don’t miss out! I’m also revving up for my next Viking series and would LOVE to share my latest book covers. I think my cover artist, Tara West did an AMAZING JOB! J

Avenged by a Highland Laird

Laird Bryce MacLeod will do anything to see Scotland’s history saved. Even if it means chasing down Jessie, a twenty-first century lass who might very well be his enemy. What he discovers when he catches her, however, is someone with deep, dark secrets and unanticipated intentions. Hidden truths so remarkable a whirlwind adventure through time begins. 

First, they find themselves in league with Angus Óg MacDomhnaill, Lord of the Isles, a noble Scottish captain rumored in some circles to be a pirate. Danger and intrigue abound as they help the Scots capture three English supply ships and deliver their cargo to the Scottish army. As they do and more mysteries are unveiled, attraction ignites and roars to life.   

Caught in the throes of newfound passion, they finally join King Robert the Bruce and face off with the English once more at the Battle of Byland Moor. Yet there’s another enemy as well. An evil whose sole purpose is meant to test their hearts in a way neither saw coming. An enemy determined to rip Jessie away from Bryce forever. Will the power of love be strong enough in the end? Or will the curse that threatens Scotland be too much to overcome? Find out in Avenged by a Highland Laird, the epic conclusion of The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning. 

Coming May 21st, 2018
Available now for pre-order exclusively at Amazon

Brand new upcoming series. Here are the latest covers for Viking Ancestors: Rise of the Dragon!

(Sven and Emily’s Story)

Håkon's story

Davyn's story

Eirik's story

Soren's story

Friday, February 9, 2018

Ancient Magic and New Passion. Enchanter Redeemed by Sharon Ashwood.

Today I'm thrilled to feature Enchanter Redeemed (Camelot Reborn), Book Four by Sharon Ashwood.

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Harlequin Nocturne

Date of Publication: February 1/6 2018

ISBN: 978-1335629487


Number of pages: 300

Word Count: 80,000

Cover Artist: Brandon Allen 

Book Description

In the last battle for Camelot, Merlin had to make a terrible choice. Now he must pay the price. When a demon from his past reappears, she wants nothing more than to destroy the wizard. Now to reap her vengeance as a lover scorned, the demon occupies the body of Clary—the apprentice who is capturing his heart—and has the innocent behaving in uncharacteristic ways. Ways that push the forbidden desire Clary and Merlin share into heated play…

Harlequin    Amazon    BN     Kobo      iBooks

Giveaway! Be sure to enter the Rafflecopter below for a chance to win one set of paperback copies of the first three books in the series. Open to entries worldwide.

***Other Books in the Series***

Book 1 - Enchanted Warrior (RITA nominee)
Book 2 – Enchanted Guardian
Book 3 – Royal Enchantment


Clary jolted awake. Power surged through her body, painful and suffocating. Her spine arched into it—or maybe away from it, she wasn’t sure. Merlin had one hand on her side and the other on her chest, using his magic like a defibrillator. The sensation hammered her from the inside while every hair on her body stood straight up. When he released her, she sagged in relief. A drifting sensation took over, as if she were a feather in an updraft.

Merlin's fingers went to her neck, checking for a pulse. His hands were hot from working spells, the touch firm yet gentle. In her weakened state, Clary shivered slightly, wanting to bare her throat in surrender. She was a sucker for dark, broody masculinity and he projected it like a beacon. All the same, Clary sucked in a breath before he got any big ideas about mouth-to-mouth. If Merlin was going to kiss her, she wanted wine and soft music, not blood and the dirty workshop floor.

Another bolt of power, more pain, another pulse check. Clary managed a moan, and she heard the sharp intake of Merlin’s breath. His hand withdrew from her pulse point as she forced her eyes open. He was staring down at her with his peculiar amber eyes, dark brows furrowed in concern. She was used to him prickly, arrogant or sarcastic, but not this. She’d never seen that oddly vulnerable expression before—but it quickly fled as their gazes met.

"You're alive."

He said it like a fact, any softness gone.

"Yup." Clary pushed herself up on her elbows. She hurt all over. “What was that?”

“A demon.”

“I got that much.” Clary held up her arm, peering through the rents in her jacket where the demon’s claws had slashed. Merlin’s zap of power had stopped the bleeding, but the deep scratches were red, puffy and hurt like blazes.

“Demon claws are toxic.”

“Got that, too.”

“I can put a salve on the wound, but you’d be smart to have Tamsin look at it,” Merlin said.

“Your sister is a better healer than I am.”

“She’s better than anybody.” Clary said it with the automatic loyalty of a little sister, but it was true. 

“She’s got a better bedside manner, too.” 

Merlin raised a brow, his natural arrogance back in place. “Just be glad you’re alive.”

She studied Merlin, acutely aware of how much magic he’d used to shut the demon down. He looked like a man in his early thirties, but there was no telling how old he actually was. He was lean-faced with permanent stubble and dark hair that curled at his collar. At first glance, he looked like a radical arts professor or dot-com squillionaire contemplating his next disruptive innovation. It took a second look to notice the muscular physique hidden by the comfortable clothes. Merlin had a way of sliding under most radars, but Clary never underestimated the power he could pluck out of thin air. She was witch born, a member of the Shadowring Coven, but he was light years beyond their strongest warlocks.

That strength was like catnip to her—although she’d never, ever admit that out loud. 

“What were you doing?” she demanded, struggling the rest of the way to a sitting position.

“I was watching the demons through a scrying portal when you interrupted me.” His tone was precise and growing colder with every syllable. Now that the crisis was over, he was getting angry.

“The she-demon tried to kill me.” Clary’s insides hollowed as the words sank home. Dear goddess, she did kill me! And Merlin had brought her back before a second had passed—but it had happened. Her witch’s senses had felt it happen. The realization left her light-headed.

“She doesn’t get to have you,” he said in a low voice.

Their gazes locked, and something twisted in Clary’s chest. She’d been hurt on Merlin’s watch, and he was furious. No, what she saw in his eyes was more than icy anger. It was a heated, primal possessiveness that came from a far different Merlin than she knew. Clary’s breath stopped. Surely she was misreading the situation. Death and zapping had scrambled her thoughts.

“I shouldn’t have walked in on you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he said in a voice filled with the same mix of ice and fire.

“You’d be a better student of magic if you paid attention. You asked me to teach you proper magic and not the baby food the covens use. Real magic is deadly.”

Abruptly, he stood and crossed the room to kick a shard of agate against the wall. It bounced with a savage clatter. Clary got to her feet, her knees wobbling. He spun and stormed back to her in one motion, moving so fast she barely knew what was happening.

He took her by the shoulders, the grip rough. “Don’t ever do that again!”

And then his mouth crushed hers in a hard, angry kiss. Clary gasped in surprise, but there was no air, only him, and only his need. She rose slowly onto her toes, the gesture both surrender and a desire to hold her own. She’d been kissed many times before, but never consumed this way. His lips were greedy and hot with that same confusing array of emotions she’d seen a moment ago. Anger. Fear. Possession. Protectiveness.

Volatile. That was the word she’d so often used in her own head when thinking about him. Volatile, though he kept himself on a very short chain. Right now that chain had slipped.

For the first two chapters, click here:  http://www.rowanartistry.com/book/enchanter-redeemed/

About the Author

Sharon Ashwood is a free-lance journalist, novelist, desk jockey and enthusiast for the weird and spooky. She has an English literature degree but works as a finance geek. Interests include growing her to-be-read pile and playing with the toy graveyard on her desk. As a vegetarian, she freely admits the whole vampire/werewolf lifestyle fantasy would never work out, so she writes paranormal romances instead.

Sharon lives in the Pacific Northwest and is owned by the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness.

Monday, February 5, 2018

A War has been Brewing in the Shadows. Blood Awakening by Miranda Nichols.

Today it's my pleasure to feature Blood Awakening, Book One (Immortal Sleepers Series) by Miranda Nichols.

Genre: Fantasy Romance

Publisher: Torrid Books a Simon and Schuster Imprint

Date of Publication: 1.29.18

ISBN: 978-1-68299-266-1

Number of pages: 256
Word Count: 86k

Cover Artist: Kelly Martin

Book Description

A war has been brewing in the shadows.

Kaelyn Hamblin never felt particularly extraordinary, growing up in a strong Irish household in the heart of Boston for most of her young life. Her humdrum routine remained markedly unchanged for longer than she cared to remember; until that day. The day when a beautiful stranger drifted into her hole-in-the-wall bookshop and changed her life forever.

Tyrian knew from the moment he locked eyes on her that she was the one. His one. The singular being within all of time and space that was made for him and him alone. His world was not one of niceties and pretty things; bringing her into it would be dangerous. But he would protect her. He had to. After all, it was foretold.

Worlds collide, marking the beginning of the end to an age long battle warring between the forces of darkness and light in the universe. The fate of all rests on the shoulders of a lone druid and her band of human hunters to quell the rising tide of evil threatening to overtake everything and plunge the connected realms into eternal darkness.

“A Witty and Hot fantasy like no other.” -Stephanie Hansen, Metamorphosis Literary Agency President.

Torrid Books      Amazon     iTunes     BN     Simon and Schuster

About the Author

Miranda Nichols enjoys her too short-lived moments in Boston visiting family. That’s why her stories tend to travel there. She’s had years of professional experience perfecting detail-oriented work and it shows in her writing. A current student working towards her MFA, she’s following her lifetime calling. She's a loyal friend who's not afraid to tell it like it is. Like the smell of fresh popcorn, her fantasy romances tempt you and keep you coming back for more.

Monday, January 29, 2018

Can She Fall in Love with a Haunted Man? Farraway Mist by Tani Hanes.

Today it’s my pleasure to welcome over and interview Tani Hanes, author of Farraway Mist, a Paranormal Romance.

Date of Publication: November 17, 2017


Number of pages: 210

Word Count: 87,210 

Book Description

Scout Lawson is fleeing an unhappy past, and thinks she's run as far as she can from Yale University when she lands a job restoring a library in Cornwall, England for reclusive rock star George Wilder, who dropped out of sight after the death of his beautiful wife the year before.

As soon as she arrives at his estate, Farraway Mist, however, strange things start to happen. As the couple's feelings for each other grow, the events become more harrowing, until everything they hold dear is in peril.

Let’s Interview!

What inspired you to write this book?

I wanted to write something that was kind of an homage to some of my favorite paranormal thrillers. The ones that come to mind right off the bat are Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca, Richard Adams’ The Girl in a Swing, and Stephen King’s Bag of Bones. Rebecca was the most evocative of place and atmosphere, The Girl in a Swing was the most beautifully written, the most haunting prose, and Bag of Bones was the scariest. I don’t think I even came close on any level, but those three are what I was aiming for when I took my swing. They make me swoon, every time.

How did you come up with the title?

This one’s easy—Farraway Mist is the name of the estate in Cornwall where the story takes place! I liked the way it sounded, too. The name “Farraway” could almost be “faraway,” you know, which is a romantic adjective, anyway, and “mist” just sounds pretty and wispy and shroudy and foggy and all that good stuff, right? It sounded like a good name for a lonely, English estate where spooky things could happen, I thought.

What made you choose the main setting for your book?

I grew up reading Agatha Christie, and I was lucky enough to go on a cruise around the British Isles a few years ago, so where else would I set a spooky romance about a reclusive, handsome Englishman and his shy librarian? Just the name “Cornwall” brings up images of hidden sea coves and dark, old cottages, doesn’t it? I wanted a little populated, village setting, where strange things could happen, where cell service might be spotty, and things going bump in the night might be “normal,” for lack of a better word.

Tell us a little bit about the conflict in your story.

The set up is very “Rebecca,” I suppose, though there’s no scary Mrs. Danvers, and my heroine has a name and a little self confidence. Her name is Scout, and she arrives at Farraway Mist to find that George, a famous musician whom she’d heard of already, is very closed off and taciturn, hard to talk to. He’s shut out the world because of the death of his beautiful wife a few years before, a woman he adored. And, because of her tomboyish appearance and funny name, he was under the mistaken impression that she was a man as well. So they don’t get off to the best start, and weird things start happening at the house almost right away. Of course they start to have feelings for each other, and the strange occurrences start to ramp up and all that. There are a couple of boys from the village who work for George, and he has a couple of very smart dogs, as well, that make up the main cast, so to speak.

If you had to sell your book based on one run of dialogue (start quote to end quote), which would it be?

"George! Please let me out! Please!" she begged. She was nearly incoherent in her hysteria, yanking on the door knob.

"It's locked! It's locked from the inside!" George was shouting. "You've locked it, Scout! You have to unlock it from your side-- do you understand?"

"I didn't! I didn't! I didn't I didn't I didn't lock it I didn't!" she screamed. She started banging on the door. "Please let me out! There's something in here with me George! There's something in here with me! Please! Please!" She collapsed on to the door, sobbing, unable even to speak, simply continuing to hit the door weakly with her fists. "George, please, there's something in here with me--"

There was only silence from George's side of the door, even the dogs were quiet.

"George, please, please let me out," Scout beseeched him.

"Scout, darling, get away from the door, all right? Move away from the door," she heard.

"Are you well away?" he asked a few moments later.

"Yes--yes," she replied.

There was a huge cracking noise as the door splintered, and the door, George, and both dogs fell into the room.

"Scout? Scout? Where are you?" he called. He fumbled for the light switch, illuminating the room.

She was huddled against the wall, eyes huge, hands held in front of her as if warding off a blow.

"Oh my god, you poor thing," George said softly, gathering her up. He tried to lead her to the bed, but she began screaming again, so he simply picked her up and took her to his room, the dogs following worriedly in their wake. She hung limply in his arms, head dangling, eyes wide.

He laid her carefully in his bed, switching on the lamp. She was pallid, her lips blue. He felt her head, cursing himself for not calling in a doctor that afternoon.

"Scout? Scout, I'm going to make you some tea, all right? I'll be right back." She grabbed his sleeve, and it seemed like she wasn't going to let him leave the room, but when Jess and Bandit broke one of his cardinal rules and jumped on his bed with her, she released him.

He hurried downstairs and made the tea, loading it up with sugar. He added a little brandy and brought it upstairs, grabbing one of his sleeping pills on the way.

The dogs had moved, one on each side, and she had an arm around each, though she still looked quite off. He tried to hand her the tea, but she didn't reach for it, so he held it, and she did finally begin to take sips. After she'd drunk about half of it and taken the pill, her color began to improve, and eventually she was able to hold the cup on her own.

"Now, do you think you can talk to me?" he asked softly. "Tell me what happened?"

She looked at him, pupils still so dilated her blue eyes looked black.

"Something was in the bed with me," she whispered.

He looked at her.

"I was asleep, and I woke up because I felt something in the bed with me. It moved when I moved. It was under the covers with me, down near my feet, and it grabbed my ankle right when you started banging on the door," she continued in that same, horrified voice.

She saw his face. "I wasn't sleeping," she said firmly. "I know what a dream feels like, I do." She put her hand on his arm. "And I didn't lock my door, George. I don't even know how that door locks."

He looked at her.

"Okay," he said finally. "There's no need to discuss any of this tonight, regardless of what happened. You've had a shock, and you need to rest, we can certainly agree on that much, right?" He looked at her, nodding.

She just stared at him, finally nodding back. Her eyelids were finally beginning to droop as the pill took effect.

"Right, then, so get some rest, and we'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

"Okay," Scout said reluctantly. She looked around, realizing for the first time where she was. "I can't sleep here, though, and put you out of your own bed." Her eyes were glazed over, but she looked panicky, and George realized that she was really frightened by whatever had happened to her.

"Look," he said softly. "This bed is huge. I'll sleep on top of this duvet, I'll just grab another one, okay? It'll be all proper and above board." He smiled reassuringly at her. "And Jess and Bandit will be between us as canine chaperones as well. They'll be so chuffed they won't move all night, will you guys, hm?" And indeed, the dogs were so happy to be on the bed it did seem as though they were settled in for the night.

"Whatever you gave me was really strong..." Scout mumbled. George smiled when he looked over at her. Her arm was around Bandit's neck, and her eyes had slipped closed. She looked like a sleeping ten-year- old.

He rolled over and tried to put the night's strange events out of his mind. But something was bothering him, tickling the edge of his brain, and it came to him, just as he was dropping off to sleep.
The key to that room had been lost long ago. The previous owner of the house had told him that when he'd moved in.

There was no way it could've been locked.

Are you currently working on another story? If so, we’d love some details.

I have a book called Pete and Daisy, and two sequels, that I’m working on publishing next. It’s a romance (surprise!) about a young college couple living in New York City who are dealing with an unexpected pregnancy, learning to love each other as they face this new chapter in their lives. It’s light and fun, very sexy and romantic.

Do you write books in series? If so, share a bit about the series you currently have published or are coming soon.

I didn’t know I liked writing serials until I started writing, but I do. When I get to the end, or what I thought was the end, it turns out there’s still so much more I want to say! And my readers, too will start asking, almost immediately, if there’s more. They ask me what happened to “so and so,” like they just drop by to chat or something. I remember reading Stephen King talking about something like this, and him being so surprised by this, but now I know what he’s talking about. I get to really enjoy spending time with these people I’ve created, and I miss them when I put them away. The UK Crush books were seven in all, and I do think I’m finished with them, though even those guys pop up as carry overs in my other stories. Pete and Daisy have three book so far, and I haven’t even published any yet, so who knows? And the characters in Farraway Mist, well, I miss them, and I’d love to write more about what happens to them after this book ends, so who knows?


Eventually she fell into a kind of fitful sleep, but suddenly came wide awake in complete darkness, unsure for a moment where she was.

Something was in the bed with her.

She lay completely still, not even breathing, and she felt it again, the thing that had awakened her.
Something was moving, down near her foot. Under the comforter. As long as she didn't move, it didn't move, but every time she moved, she felt a corresponding movement down there.



Scout didn't know how long she lay there without moving, but it felt like hours. She could hear her heart hammering in her ears, feel it pounding in her chest. Her foot twitched, completely out of her control, and the comforter jumped, at least eight inches away from where her foot was. 

About the Author

Tani Hanes was born in Yokosuka, Japan. She spent the first few years of her life traveling back and forth between Japan and the US, making the permanent move to the Central Valley of California when she was five. She visited family in Japan on a regular basis, and attended college in Tokyo for one year at ICU before getting her degree in Language Studies from UC Santa Cruz. She has two children, and was a substitute teacher for fifteen years. Hanes currently resides in New York City with her husband and cats, Moss and Lily.