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.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

A Humorous Christmas Tale. P.L. Parker. Blog Event.

My 'What Every Woman Wants Beneath Her Christmas Tree’ blog event continues. So far it’s been a total blast! Just popping in for the first time? Well, this event hosts a new author or vendor every two days between now and Christmas Day. So sixteen features and over sixteen giveaways. Everyone who comments between now and December 25th is entered for a chance to a win a $100 gift certificate to Amazon!

Today I’d like to welcome over romance author, P.L. Parker. One lucky commenter will win an Ecopy of her latest tale, Will O’ the Wisp.

A little Christmas tale of humor from P.L. Parker’s lips to this blog…

He was exciting and fun, handsome and very masculine, but self-centered and self-serving. Stubbornly, my mind refused to accept those little warning signs. He was after all…so perfect.

Christmas season was upon us and it would be my first Christmas with a boyfriend in a very long time. It was to be a very special time. He’d given subtle hints about the present I was to get and my mind whirled with all the thrilling possibilities. We’d been dating long enough—it could be something really special. Christmas Eve and Day would be spent with my kids and my parents, so my friend and I decided to have our own private Christmas celebration a week in advance.

He invited me to his place for dinner, drinks and the exchange of gifts. I was so on edge with anticipation, nervous and excited, and when he told me early in the evening that my gift was “round,” I knew what it was! A ring! It had to be a ring! I could barely contain myself I was so keyed up! Surreptitiously, my eyes searched every corner, looking for that small white box I knew had to be here somewhere. Dinner seemed to take forever! Would he ever bring me my gift?

Finally, he stood up. “Your gift’s in the other room.” He smiled mysteriously and disappeared into the spare bedroom.

My heart pounded! I would throw myself in his arms and cry “Yes, Yes,” when he popped the question.

Banging and rattling came from behind the closed door. He must have hidden it well! Seemed to be taking awhile or perhaps it was just my own impatience making it seem longer than it really was.

The door slid open and he stepped out! My eyes bugged out. I froze. In his arms was a giant round thing! He dropped it on the floor and…it bounced. An inner tube?

I stared at the object. “Wha…? What is it?”

He gave me an odd look. “It’s a float tube! For fishing!”

“For fishing?” My elation took a huge nose dive.

“Yeah. Soon’s the weather warms up, we’ll take this baby out for a run. You’ll love it!”

“But I’ve never been fishing in a float tube!” And I didn’t want to either. Granted, the tube was pretty fancy. Had it’s own little mesh seat and a back rest, but it was still just an inner tube. Not what I was expecting! And definitely not something I’d ever wanted or would ever dream of buying for myself! I. Wasn’t. That. Person!

“You should be excited,” he exclaimed, animated. “This one was used in the TV commercial for the company.”

"Oh,” I muttered, feeling even more…crushed. “So it’s a used float tube.”

“Well, yeah. New ones cost about $150. You’ll need to pick up a pair of waders and some flippers, too. That’ll cost you about $75.”

Oh, so he couldn’t spend that much on me! I had spent almost $200 on his gift! And he was an engineer—at least that’s what he told me!

“Oh, and you’ll have to learn how to fly fish! Only way to fish in a float tube.”

“I’m sort of a bait fisherman. Nothing more exciting than trying to skewer a worm with a hook!”

“My woman needs to fly fish!”

“You know what?” I gathered up my things. “I need to get home. My babysitter can’t stay late tonight.”

“I thought you said she could.”

“I was wrong.” I headed out the door with him trailing behind, the float tube bouncing along beside him.

“I’ll carry this out to the car for you,” he offered. “You can play around with it, get used to the feel before we go fishing.”

“I can hardly wait,” I murmured. “Feeling all goose bumpy just thinking about it.” Chill bumps more like it!

He kissed me goodbye and I left.

A few months later, I got the chance to give that baby a run! My first try, the flippers stuck in the mud, I flipped upside down and almost drowned—saved by a nice older gentleman who actually cared!

Sadly, the relationship with Mr. Fisherman ended soon after that! Sadly? I probably should say happily!

Sky here. OMG, that was funny, P.L.. Love it! Thanks for sharing!

A bit about P.L.’s giveaway, Will O’ the Wisp…

Stalked across the vast reaches of the universe, Tannis, the last fecund female of the clan Light Bringers, takes refuge on Earth, veiling herself within the dying form of a human female. Her energy forces are flagging and to rejuvenate, she must seek the healing properties of the sun’s rays, but by doing so, she risks discovery by the hunter. Time is short and Kadin—the most feared assassin of all—draws near!

Purchase Will O’ the Wisp at Amazon.

P. L. Parker
Romantic Adventure at its Best

Website ~ Blog ~ Myspace

Don’t forget to comment for a chance to win an Ecopy of Will O’ the Wisp and a $100 gift certificate to Amazon! Contest ends Thursday, December 1st, 12 AM EST.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

What's Under Your Christmas Tree? Blog Event. Hywela Lyn.

Welcome! For those of you just joining me, it’s all about Christmas at this blog. Now through December 25th, sixteen authors and jewelry vendors are visiting A Writer’s Mind to share some heart-warming holiday stories and offer some fabulous giveaways. As an added bonus, everyone who comments on any of the posts between now and Christmas Day is entered for a chance to win the grand prize, a $100 gift certificate to Amazon!

It's time to continue my ‘What Every Woman Wants Beneath Her Christmas Tree’ blog event. Today and tomorrow I’d like to welcome over romance author and dear friend, Hywela Lyn. Lyn is graciously giving away to one lucky commenter a PRINT copy of Dancing with Fate and a hand-crafted Christmas ornament from the Christmas Tree Farm in the UK.

Let’s hear from Lyn now! From Lyn’s lips to this blog…


I love Christmas – as long as it doesn’t start too early! I like to have the ‘magic’ feel fresh and new, so we don’t put the decorations up until a week before the great day and in keeping with tradition, don’t take them down until 5th January, 12th Night.

I really enjoy the build up to Christmas, and one of the things that makes me feel Christmas is really close is choosing our Christmas tree from the CHRISTMAS TREE FARM. After our artificial Christmas tree at last gave up the ghost and went to the ‘great artificial tree farm in the sky’ my husband and I decided, to revert to the real thing.

There are a number of reasons why we decided to go ‘real’. For each tree sold from the farm, another is planted, Since it absorbs carbon dioxide and 'breathes' out oxygen, each tree is helping reduce our collective carbon footprint. Although an artificial tree can be used for several years, the noxious chemicals produced in their production do nothing to help the fight against global warming, and they are certainly not biodegradable like a real tree. Also, it’s a great day out and we can take our dog Bouncer as well.

At the entrance to the farm is a full size Father Christmas. A little wooden fox greets visitors as they go through the gate and we pass by the little workshop where animated elves are busy making the gifts for Christmas and preparing Christmas trees. (Although one in this picture seems to have decided it was time for a mug of tea!)

The Farm uses two Shire horses, Thomas and Ambassador, who are working forestry horses. They are owned and trained by Steven Jones, who is a highly skilled forester based in Wales. Shire horses are a breed of horse which was used as draft animals on English farms for centuries. They are believed to be descended from English "Great horses" which were also used to carry armored knights in medieval times. Shires stand at least 17 hands tall (5ft 8in - 6ft/1.7m-1.8m) and weigh slightly less than one tonne.

Despite their size, the horses have a very gentle temperament. The horses leave the fields in much better condition than modern tractors. Tractors running over the ground can damage the soil structure and reduce its fertility by compacting it. Horses weigh less than tractors and their hooves spread that weight over a larger surface area. As a result, even in wet weather, the field is not damaged by the use of the horses, and the farm tracks are left un-rutted.

At the end of the rows of trees is a corral where we love to make friends with the horses, who, in this picture, were having a well deserved rest.

We spend a long time choosing our perfect tree. There are many different varieties and sizes to choose from. Choice made, while our perfect tree is being ‘netted’, we visit the Christmas Tree Farm shop. It is always like a fairy land, with a huge selection of beautiful ornaments and decorations - and close to the counter, a full size sleigh with a moving Santa on his sleigh drawn by a beautiful reindeer.

There are also woodland animals in various places around the shop, with twitching noses and paws, looking very realistic. They also sell things like magical reindeer food and special keys that only work for Santa, for houses with no chimneys. The display changes slightly each year, but it is always full of enchantment.

Before I leave, do you know the legend of the Christmas tree? This legend comes down from the early days of Christianity:

In Britain, Saint Wilfred was a monk who was helping to spread Christianity among the Druids. One day he struck down a huge Oak tree, which in the Druid religion was an object of worship.

As the tree fell to earth, it split into four, and from its centre grew a young Fir tree, pointing its topmost branch towards the sky. The crowd gathered around the monk gazed in amazement.

Wilfred dropped his axe and turned to the watching people. "This little tree shall be your Holy tree tonight," he said, "It is the sign of eternal life, for its leaves remain green all year round. See how it points toward the heavens. Let this be called the tree of the Christ Child. Gather round it, not in the wilderness but in your homes, surrounded with loving gifts and gestures of kindness." And so it is, to this day.

Sky here. Oh, I’d love to visit the Christmas Tree Farm! It certainly sounds like my kind of place. Thank you so much for sharing these stories, Lyn. I didn’t know the tale behind the Christmas Tree. While I mourn to hear of any Oak being chopped down, I love the part about the fir being a sign of eternal life.


Hywela Lyn lived in Wales for most of her life, and the beautiful countryside and legends inspired her to write. Although she now lives in a small village in England, she is very proud of her Welsh heritage and background. She enjoys weaving romantic tales of the future, and distant, mysterious worlds. Her pen name is a combination of her first two names.'Hywela’ is Welsh and her first name but it was never used and she has always been called by her second Christian name, Lyn. One thing remains constant in her writing: The power of love. Love, not only between her hero and heroine, but between friends and siblings, and for their particular world and the creatures that share it.

She is crazy about all animals, especially horses. She lives with her long suffering husband, Dave, and her animal family includes two horses, two ferrel cats and an adopted Jack Russell terrier called Bouncer.

Lyn’s first novel, 'Starquest', a futuristic romance, and and the sequel ‘Starquest’, 'Children of the Mist' are available in Ebook format or print from the Wild Rose Press and she is currently working on the third stories in the series. (Please watch her blog for more details) She has recently self published her fantasy novella 'Dancing With Fate' featuring Terpsichore, Muse of Dance, on Smashwords.

This was originally one of nine stories in the Wild Rose Press anthology ‘Song Of the Muses.'

Lyn loves to hear from fellow authors and readers and can be found at her...


Don’t forget to comment for a chance to win a print copy of Dancing with Fate, a Christmas tree ornament from the Christmas Tree Farm and a $100 gift certificate to Amazon. Contest ends Tuesday, November 29th, 12 AM, EST.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Mega Christmas Blog Event. Ruby Vines. It Begins NOW!!!!

Season's Greatings! At long last my ‘What Every Woman Wants Beneath Her Christmas Tree Blog Event’ has arrived. If you’re joining me at A Writer’s Mind for the first time this event is all about what we girls REALLY want beneath our trees this year. Not sure about you, but books and jewelry sound great to me. That in mind, I’ve decided to host an event that welcomes sixteen authors and jewelry vendors within thirty days. Prize after prize after prize. All for the taking. All for you. Every two days, a new face and a new goodie to be won! Don't forget, everyone who comments is also entered for a chance to win the grand prize on Christmas Day, a $100 gift certificate to Amazon!

Each visitor will be sharing a holiday story or blurb that they hold close to their hearts. Did I hand select these ladies to share in such a momentous event? You bet. Each and every one is incredibly talented. So wrap a warm fuzzy around your shoulders, crank up that holiday music, bury yourself in a cup of hot chocolate and enjoy.

Today, I’d like to welcome the fabulously talented Ruby Vines (AKA- Alisha Paige).

From her lips to this blog…

Christmas and romance tend to go hand and hand for me, let me tell you about it.

It was early December when I went into labor with my baby boy. I woke up on a Sunday morning with serious labor pains. My husband rushed me to the hospital and we were both very nervous because the baby was breech. Once at the hospital they prepared me for an emergency C-Section. This was my third baby but I had had a VERY DIFFICULT birth experience with my second daughter so I was pretty much a fraidy cat. BTW, I had my second daughter totally natural and it wasn’t by choice either…and because she was eight years after the birth of my first daughter, the doctor said it would be like a first birth again, a very long labor. Put it this way, I arrived at the hospital near midnight with my first daughter and she was born five hours later. That isn’t a tough first labor so I was NOT prepared for the nineteen hours of labor from hell when I had my second child..so yeah…I was scared to death.

I remember being in pretty terrible pain sitting on the edge of the bed as my husband held my hands while the anesthesiologist stuck needles in my spine for my epidural. Tears started to flow and I was shaking like a leaf. My husband was so adorable in his scrubs and blue cap. He wore a mask too and all I could see was his big chocolate brown eyes staring back at me. He said, “Don’t be scared, baby.” About that time I felt warm liquid entering my spine. My husband kissed me through the mask as they laid me down. He squeezed my hand and I squeezed back, holding on. His strength gave me strength and I could just feel his love surrounding me. Or maybe it was the good drugs..nope..I’m pretty sure it was him..lol.

Pretty soon I couldn’t feel anything on my lower half and the doctor and nurses came floating in. Everyone was talking about Christmas shopping and seemed to be in a cheerful holiday mood. The doctor told a nurse to put the Christmas CD on. All of the sudden I heard the voices of angels singing.

It was beautiful.

Almost spiritual.

Wait. It WAS spiritual. I felt like it was a message from God that everything would be okay. My husband looked down at me and smiled with his eyes. I told myself I could do this. As they cut into my belly, the nurses and doctors continued to blab about the holidays as if they weren’t cutting into a human body. Within five minutes, they were trying to pull my son out but he was stuck. The cord was wrapped around his neck. The doctor instructed them to put him back in. Really? How crazy is that? And then the doc told a learning intern to roll the baby over and try to pull him out again and I’m not kidding when I say that the doctor checked his freaking black berry at this point and then glanced over to nod, as if everything was okay. Pretty soon I heard my son cry and they handed him to my husband.

The angels kept singing and my husband smiled over at me as he held our new born son in his arms. That was hands down the most romantic moment of my life and the most spiritual moment. It was like I was in a room with God AND my husband AND my new son. Benjamin was absolutely the best Christmas present ever!!! And three days later as my husband wheeled me out in a wheelchair to our waiting car with my son in my lap, we passed enormous Christmas trees in the lobby. The wide doors swung open and a gust of cold air hit us. Yep. Getting a baby for Christmas is just about the coolest thing ever. And I will never ever forget the romantic moment my husband and I shared. I swear, with each kid, I have fallen deeper and deeper in love with this special man. A nurse commented that she’d never seen a more in love couple. I have to agree. Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope your Christmas is full of love and romance and you get all your heart desires!

~Alisha Paige/Ruby Vines

Sky here. What a wonderful story! I got chills reading it. Absolutely astounding. Your son was indeed a wonderful Christmas present. Wishing you and yours many, many more wonderful holidays together, Alisha.

Ruby Vines/Alisha Paige's Website ~ Blogspot ~ Twitter: @Alishawriter

CHANCE TO WIN a copy of Deadly R&R Ebook!!!

Leave a comment by Sunday, 12 AM EST to be entered into Ruby's contest. Please leave your email addy in a comment so that the winner can be contacted.

Time to relax with a good book trailer....

Swing back in Sunday, November 27th as I welcome author Hywela Lyn to A Writer's Mind, Christmas Blog Event. Lyn's Prize: A paperback copy of Dancing with Fate and a hand-crafted tree ornament from the Christmas Tree Farm in The United Kingdom.

Happy Holidays,

Monday, November 21, 2011

Tons of Blogging! Loads of Fun!

Thanksgiving week has finally arrived and I'm busy, busy, busy. I'll not only be blogging here this week but I'm also hanging out with the fabulous ladies, Andrea and Corrina over at The Write Life. Pop over any day, Monday through Friday, and leave a comment for a chance to win a PRINT copy of my latest release, The Victorian Lure.

I'm thrilled to say that I'm not only a Wild Rose Press author but I'm also an Indie author. Interested in learning more about my road to self-publication? My tips and tricks? Join me at Catherine Bybee's blog on Tuesday. Be sure to comment there for a chance to win an Ecopy of The King's Druidess (The MacLomain Series-Prelude) and Fate's Monolith (The MacLomain Series- Book 1).

And, last but not least, FOUR DAYS AND COUNTING until my 'What Every Woman Wants Beneath Her Christmas Tree' blog event launches! Hold on tight because sixteen authors and vendors stop by A Writer's Mind between November 25th and December 25th. All will be leaving something under this blog's Christmas tree for you to win. The grand prize on Christmas Day? A $100 gift certificate to Amazon!

Best Regards,

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Back to my Roots. A Writer's Inspiration.

Welcome! It’s been a few days since I posted. While life’s been busy the truth of the matter is that I’ve been suffering from ‘Blogger’s Block’ (similiar to writer’s block- except pertaining to blog content. *winks*)

I hope everyone’s having a fun-filled weekend so far. I spent a good portion of the day doing yard work. Here in New England it’s officially time to rake. Okay, okay… it’s past time to rake. Naturally, I waited to do it until we had a good windy day. *rolls eyes* Anyone who has ever raked knows what I’m getting at. Rake a portion of the lawn, breeze comes up and there vanishes your nice leafless lawn. Grrrr. But I got through it and for the most part enjoyed the fresh, cool air and family time.

So why am I telling you all of this?

Well, it was while I was out there raking away that I took the time to really look around at nature. I reconnected, so to speak. It amazes me how fast life goes by. How I drive down the road, walk outside or gaze out the window yet don’t really see what’s around me. The beauty of nature and the forest, the very thing that inspired me to start writing!

I can understand why Robert Frost (his farm is five minutes from me) was so in love with this land and everything it has to offer. I can still remember tromping into the woods as a child to my favorite spot. There I’d sit, spending hours and hours with my notebook (no laptops then!) writing away about everything going on around me.

I remember thinking that it was pure magic. The way the leaves changed colors in the fall and rained down. Then, before I knew it, spring had arrived and a new round of leaves were bursting from their branches. I even enjoyed the frigid months when the branches were bare and they clicked together in the wind as though applauding some grand performance only they could see.

I used to think the trees had secrets and stories to tell. You know what? Many did. They’d seen families come and go. The trees generations before had seen the first settlers arrive. The generations before had sheltered the Native American Indians. To my young mind, if an oak tree dropped an acorn and that became another tree, it kept all the memories of the tree from which it fell. Most likely, this's why many of my stories revolve heavily around nature, magic and time-travel.

The point is that in its own way, I found it refreshing and therapeutic to get back to my roots and remember what first inspired me to write. All writers should set aside the time to do the same. Many probably do. But I’m sure many of you are like me and life just gets too busy to stop and reflect.

I’d love to hear what first inspired you to engage in your craft, be it writing or something else.

Enjoy the remainder of your weekend. I can’t believe it’s nearly Thanksgiving!

Best Always,


Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Where Ghosts Come to Play. Who came out on top?

I'd like to thank everyone who has popped in over the past several days to enjoy excerpts from my recently released, The Victorian Lure. Remember, if you want to continue following the sexy ghost hunters from this trilogy, be sure to swing over and join us at Paranormal/Syfy Romance- Deep, Dark and Delicious blogspot.

At last, it's finally time to announce a contest winner. A huge congratulations to BJ! You won an Ecopy of The Victorian Lure! Be sure to contact me at SkyPurington@live.com to collect your prize.

Wishing everyone a fabulous Tuesday.


Sunday, November 13, 2011

Where Ghosts Come to Play. Sexy Paranormal Excerpts. 3 of 3.

The weekend's almost over, but there’s still spooky fun to be had at A Writer’s Mind. Over the past few days I’ve shared excerpts from my recent release, The Victorian Lure. To wrap things up, I thought I’d turn up the ‘sexy’ a notch.

WARNING: This excerpt is intended for a mature audience. Some of the language and actions may be considered offensive.

Don’t forget to leave a comment for a chance to win a free Ecopy of The Victorian Lure. Okay, here we go. Some of the far naughtier things that can happen during a paranormal investigation…

Leathan followed Dakota into the kitchen where she started to pull the cabinets open.

“You doing okay?” He leaned against the counter; unable to miss the way her perky breasts lifted even higher when she grabbed a pan from a taller shelf.

With a light clank, she placed the pan beneath the faucet and shrugged. “Yeah, as good as to be expected. Thanks.”

Beating around the bush had never been his style. “What did you think about what happened outside?”

A small smile curved her lips and a becoming stain of pink dusted her cheekbones. “Honestly? Though it was unnerving…I enjoyed it.”

“You worried about that white-robed guy?”

“Not so much.” She gave a soft smile. “He feels…different. Safe.”

He agreed. She turned and his eyes fell to her heart-shaped ass. Mmm. He remembered exactly how it’d felt in his hands. Smooth, taut…perfect. One foot in front of the other, close the distance. That’s all it would take. Then he could hold and kiss her. He wanted to so bad, Leathan wasn’t surprised when blood rushed to his groin. Heavy and underused, his instant arousal pressed uncomfortably against his too tight jeans.

“Be back.” He turned and headed for the cellar door. The last thing Dakota needed to see right now was the blatant lust she’d see in his eyes…and his obvious erection. Maybe it was the age difference, but Dakota made him feel like a teenage boy again. He opened the door, flipped the switch to turn on the power and headed down into the dank recesses below.

Cobwebs dusted his face as he descended. Thankfully, the camera they’d set up down here still sat, facing toward the main center area. As many houses of this period, the stone cellar split into various rooms, some used for storing canned goods. He walked into the first room and clicked on his flashlight as many of these smaller rooms weren’t lit. With a grin, Leathan eyed the rows upon rows of canned goods. At the very least, for now, they had extra food.

Continuing into the next room, he found random things scattered about. There was little of value since cellars became too moist. They would need to explore the attic soon. He suspected that would be where they might find more clues to the original owner and possibly the builder of this place.

After passing through the center area, he entered a larger room and sighed with relief. Stacked high, against two walls, was chopped wood. About to pull a piece free he stopped. Had he heard a giggle? Pushing the wood back, he spun the flashlight toward the entrance. Nothing. Bound to have an over active imagination down here. After all, this replicated the spooky cellars from the best horror movies. Light on, he clipped the flashlight to his hip pocket and grabbed the piece of wood again.

Three pieces of wood in hand, Leathan shivered. Brrr. Prepared, he held the wood in one arm, reached into his pocket, pulled his digital temperature gage and held it in the light. As hairs rose on the back of his neck, he watched the reading drop from thirty-five degrees to thirty-two, then thirty-one. He started counting. Within seconds it dropped to twenty-five. Ready to pull a recorder from his other pocket, Leathan froze when a black figure caught the corner of his vision from deeper insidethe room. Carefully, he set the wood aside.

His flashlight dimmed then snapped off without him touching it. Those in the paranormal world speculated spirits drew energy from their surroundings to manifest. He waited and watched.


He snatched Dakota from the doorway, brought her between him and the wood and brought a finger to her lips. “Quiet,” he whispered close to her ear.

“Heard you the first time,” she whispered back.


No time to wonder what she meant. Somethingwas happening in the corner. With a protective arm around Dakota, he peered into the dark recesses of the room. Someone whispered. She trembled. He peered closer. Nothing. The temperature rose, returned to normal. Leathan stroked her shoulder reassuringly. Whatever it had been hadn’t stuck around long. While he wanted to explore the area more the feel of her long body against his drove all logical thought from his mind. Her heart pounded against his. Breath rushed from their lungs. They were caught in a heady mix of adrenaline combined with lust.

At last she spoke. “Did you see anything?”

What scent was she wearing? It smelled sweet and inviting. “Nay.” He continued stroking her shoulder, then the side of her neck. “You okay? Frightened?”

“At first,” she admitted, her body relaxed and pliant between his and the wood stack.

Without consciously realizing it, he had her sandwiched; his front nestled against hers, his renewed arousal pressed against her with interest. Spirit activity, no matter how slight, usually had him interested. Right now, nothing but the feel of her lithe body flattened against his mattered.

Leathan pressed closer, gently kissed the side of her neck, said very softly, “Does this frighten you?”

“What do you think?”

Hungry, eager, he found her mouth. Willing, her lips opened beneath his and as before, her hands came around his neck. Wedging a knee between her legs, he found her backside and lifted until he held her locked and secure, inescapably lodged between him and the woodpile. Her firm backside filled his palms perfectly. Her slender athletic thighs straddled his leg. Heat emanated from her core, and he nearly groaned. Tilting his head further, he explored her mouth, their tongues and lips in perfect unison. He could kiss her forever and never get bored.

Grinding his thigh against her, he protected her backside with his hands. The ache rose sharp and hard when he felt the heat increase between her legs, when a small whimper left her lips. All he could imagine was the moist clinging heat within her. What would she taste like? Feel like?

Sky here. Hope you enjoyed! Not ready for the party to be over? Check out The Victorian's Lure book trailer. Speakers up. Kevin McLeod's dark and delicious music gets ya in the mood. *Evil grin*

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Where Ghosts Come to Play. Sexy Paranormal Excerpts. 2 of 3. Chance to Win!

Welcome! If you popped in Friday you know that I’m sharing excerpts from my latest release, The Victorian Lure (Calum’s Curse: Ardetha Vampyre). For those of you just joining me, grab a cup of whatever makes you happiest, sit back and enjoy what’s to come. Yesterday, I talked about the roots behind the writing of The Victorian Lure. After you read this post, be sure to click HERE to read more about not only Calum but how Dakota's victorian came to need a paranormal investigation.

CONTEST: Leave a comment on any posts between Friday and Sunday for a chance to win an Ecopy of The Victorian Lure.

Today, I’m continuing where I left off yesterday. The first moment the Worldwide Paranormal Society enters Dakota’s Victorian and the first moment Dakota meets lead investigator, Leathan Stewart…

Leathan Stewart frowned and gazed up at the house. Why had she lied to him? It wasn’t in good condition. As far as he could tell, the oversized Victorian should be condemned by the local building inspector, bound up with yellow tape, and labeled, “Don’t breath on me. I might fall down.” She’d actually purchased this thing recently?

He waved his team on and walked through a thick layer of brown crinkly leaves. “Look at this mess. The shutters are drooping. The paint’s peeling. And─” He shook his head. “What’s that smell?” Halfway up the crooked, creaky steps, the front door opened.

“Hello?” he said. No one responded. What the hell?

The door opened further. Inch by inch, it revealed a foyer that looked far different than the exterior. Leathan stepped inside and expected to see the woman who contacted him. Instead, he found an empty foyer with gleaming dark hardwood floors.

A low whistle. “Based on the outside, I would have thought whoever bought this house was thick in the head. Look at this foyer. It’s really nice!”

Leathan silenced his fellow paranormal investigator, Devin, with a sharp shake of his head. The others followed them inside, all silent.

“She’s here somewhere.” He started to climb the stairs. “Devin, search the first floor, Seth, the second, Andrea, the third. I’m going to the top, where she said she might be.”

As he walked he paid attention to details. To the common eye everything looked pristine and new. But he had a talent…he could look closer, see it as it had been, sort of a psychic ability. At first, he saw faded areas in the paint where paintings had hung before, holes in the hardwood that must have tacked a run rug. He looked up. The ceiling was starting to peel; small water stains marred the corners on the second floor and the odor of mildew faint but there.

When he looked closer at the walls, he envisioned the paintings that had once hung there, unknown faces from the nineteen fifties based on their clothing. The stair runner had been red, then faded, then removed. The stains on the ceiling, a problem never fixed because the former family couldn’t afford it.

Using his gift, he stopped looking, started feeling. A tear slid down his cheek. Not his but that of the woman who had removed the paintings because they were moving. Her husband wanted a divorce. Aggravation when she spilled warm milk on the carpet runner when rushing to get it to her child on the second floor. Would she be able to get the stain out? The day she moved, two children in tow and glared one last time at that water stain on the ceiling. Why did her husband blame her for that too?

An uncomfortable shiver rippled through him.

There was more to this house, much more, much deeper and something didn’t want him here…or did it? Well worth investigating. Climbing the last stair to the third floor, he looked around. Energy pulsed here, stronger than anywhere else. Usually he could see it, darkness at the corner of everything. This time he couldn’t. But he could feel it. Like a dull throb at the base of his skull.

Leathan opened the door to the fourth floor. Cool, rosewood-scented air poured over his face. He climbed stairs covered with a thin tan carpet until he reached the top.

Then he saw her.

He almost stumbled back. It felt like a freight train drove through him. Leathan blinked twice. He had expected her to look a thousand different ways but nothing like she did. Maybe five-eight, with a slender build, she was beautiful, exotic.

When she stepped beneath one of the three lights, he took an involuntary step back and sucked in a breath. Damned hot! Surreal with pale, silky smooth skin, her rich blue-black hair was cut in a stylish bob fashioned longer in the front, shorter in the back. The light cast her face into a striking combination of cheekbones carved high and wide, lips full and pouty. Her chin line delicately chiseled from a hard square into oval slopes made to fit a man’s hands. Startling green eyes appraised him.

Nodding, she turned away and walked to the state of the art computer system tucked in the far corner of the room. “I’m glad you came. This whole house is screwed, and it all started here, Mr.Stewart.”

“Leathan.” He lowered his bag from his shoulder and surveyed the room. The door to a small bathroom stood ajar from a small make-shift kitchenette in the corner of the room. A two person table with what looked to be a left-over microwavable soup bowl and spoon had been placed next to a tiny built-in counter with a microwave on it, a mid-sized refrigerator beneath. A mattress without a box-spring cuddled in another corner.

“Good thing I had a bathroom and some food up here or I might not have made it,” she said softly.

Honestly, after a week, he fully expected to find her cowering and completely mad. But no, she appeared composed, totally unafraid, which made him wonder.

“I came as soon as I could.” Leathan headed for the computer. “Good to meet you…Dakota, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah, Dakota, sorry.” She paced away from the computer.

Was this a hoax? Dakota didn’t act as though she feared for her life. If anything, she struck him as rude, almost careless in her attitude.

“I’m completely trapped on this floor,” she continued.

“Yeah, you said as much in your email,” he replied and sat in the swivel chair in front of her computer. “Your claim seemed interesting enough to warrant investigation.”

Dakota’s brows furrowed. “I must have been persuasive for you to come so far.”

Truth told she hadn’t been convincing at all. However, something about her email struck him. At core, he sensed desperation. Almost as if he could read between her words─vague as they were─and see what she meant to write. What if he had ignored her, as everyone else probably would have, and her story was true?

And, despite himself, he was a fan of her site.

Leaning back in his chair, he watched her pace. “I assume you believe in the paranormal, Dakota.”

Her gaze flickered his way. “Now I do.”

Didn’t expect that response. “So you were strictly a non-believer before? I find that hard to believe.”

“I didn’t say that.” Dakota shrugged. “What does it really matter?”

Leathan didn’t reply right away. His silence forced her to stop pacing.

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to figure out if I’m prone to fantasies…if I made all this up based on my networking site?”

“Sorry,” he said. “This is part of what I do. Try to understand the homeowner as well as what is haunting them.”

Aggravation shifted her green eyes to a sultry moss-like shade. “You want to understand me? Get me the hell off this floor, and I’ll tell you everything you want!”

Leathan kept his eyes locked with hers for a few moments. She should be crazy, out of her mind if what she said was true. Why wasn’t she afraid?

The dull throb at the base of his head had subsided when he came to this floor. Could there be paranormal activity on this level? Sure, but unlikely. However, his job first and foremost, was to disprove a haunting. Best to start here he supposed. They’d deal with downstairs later.

Swiveling around, he hit the on button. “Based on what you told me I think we should address what you saw on the computer first.”

Thump. He looked over his shoulder. Dakota had walked back against the wall, eyes round.

Leathan stood and followed her.

Dakota’s gaze stayed on him. “Shut it off.”

Within a foot he stopped. “No.”

“Get me off this floor first then explore it all you want.”

Ah, fear. “Are you that afraid of it?” He angled his body so she had a clear shot of the computer.

“I’ve been stuck on this floor for one week after seeing─” Her words trailed off. He knew she worked hard to keep her eyes on him and not turn away from everything.

“Please,” she whispered.

Leathan contemplated her for several moments. Dakota was stubborn. She was also petrified. He could see how she struggled to keep herself together.

“All right, let’s get you off this floor.”

Relief shrunk her pupils. Her shoulders fell a quarter of an inch. “Thank you.”

“There is a condition though,” he said.

“I didn’t realize ghost hunters came with conditions.”

“If I get you off this floor, I want to know everything. All the things you aren’t telling me now,” he countered.

“Aren’t you curious why I’m not telling you everything right away?”

“No.” He took her hand. “Fear does funny things to people. Obviously, being trapped here is your greatest fear amongst many. I only ask that you tell all once I help you face this one.”

Dakota pulled her hand away. “I asked you to come. You did. I’m grateful. Of course I’ll tell you everything once you get me the hell off this floor, out of this house.”

Leathan went to the nearest window and wedged it open. Snowflakes curled in on an icy wind and caught on his five o’clock shadow. He held up a hand. “Come.”

“What’s the point?”

“I would think that’s obvious.” He wiggled his forefinger. “Come. I need to see if you can stick out your hand.”

Dakota nodded. “I can.”

He narrowed his eyes. Understanding dawned. She didn’t like heights. So he challenged her pride. “What don’t you fear?”

Just as he figured, fire flared in her emerald eyes. She threw back her shoulders and came to him.

“I’m starting to think contacting you was a mistake.”

“I’m sure.”

Before she pulled more excuses out of her rabbit’s hat, Leathan grabbed her hand and pulled it out the window. Nothing stopped it. Not even a sluggish otherworldly cloud of resistance. Still, her hand gripped his. The muscles in her slender forearm clenched. Placing his free arm over her arm, he stiffened when he felt what he could only describe as intense static electricity shoot through him.

She made a low sound of shock─possibly pain─and he loosened his hold. Had she felt it too? Dakota’s eyes met his. Her finely arched brows drew down. “Let go.”

He did. She rubbed her hand before tucking it away in her sweatshirt pocket.

“So what, should I have scaled four stories to the ground with sheets tied together?” Dakota spun away and walked to the top of the stairs. “I suppose many would have tried.”

Leathan rubbed his fingers together, recovered from the aftershocks of touching her. “You don’t have enough sheets to have made it.”

A small smile graced her face then vanished. “I’ll tell you one thing now.”

“What’s that?”

“Despite my doubts you were meant to be here.”

He tried not to ask her a thousand questions, knew she needed time, needed to escape from what she considered the most imminent danger. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Dakota’s chest heaved. She nodded. “That’d be great.”

For a split second, he wished she didn’t wear such a baggy sweatshirt. That he could see her chesta little more clearly. Where had that thought come from? Shaking his head, he walked down the stairs and stopped, feet on the door jam. Looking back, he raised his hand and gave a come hither motion.

“Every time I try to cross that threshold the pain is unbearable.”

“Take three steps down. Prove to me you’re willing to try. I’ll talk you through the rest.”

Dakota’s nostrils flared. “Talk me through the rest, eh?”

“Just do it.”

Staring at him, she battled within until she came to a conclusion and quickly descended three steps.

“See, was that so bad?” he said. “But what about that?”

He pointed behind her. She looked.

Fast─before she knew his intentions─he climbed the stairs and scooped her up. Dakota yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck. Leathan left the fourth floor and flew down the stairs.

“Out of the house, please,” she urged in his ear.

Not a problem. Passing through the foyer, he opened the front door, transcended the stairs, and stopped. Bottle cap snowflakes drifted in thick sheets. Wind whipped and stung the side of his face.

Dakota gripped his neck tighter, nails dug into his skin. “I’m out. I’m out.”

She repeated those words over and over. Carefully, he set her down. When her feet hit the ground, she pulled away, turned, and started to run.

Damn woman.

By the time he caught up she was halfway to the ocean. He grabbed her arm. She yanked and twirled away. Leathan growled and pursued. Fast little thing! When he once more caught up, she was ankle deep in the water. From behind he wrapped his arms around her chest and pulled her close.

“Are you mad? Or just suicidal,” he roared.

Dakota said nothing at first. Her body shook. Her head rocked back and forth. When she spoke her voice sounded hoarse, desperate. “Let me go.”

Frowning, he pulled her closer. “No. You’re out of the house. I got you here. You owe me an explanation, lass.”

Leathan spun her, grabbed her arms, and forced Dakota to look at him. “You owe me.”

Bleary eyed, she peered at him through the veil of falling snow. “It should have ended here to begin with. This wouldn’t be happening now, the past damn week, had I only possessed the courage.”

Sudden comprehension made his mouth drop. Every fiber of his being wanted to shove her into the water, say “good riddance, be done with it you coward above all cowards”…but he couldn’t. How was it that a woman like this wanted to end her life? What on God’s green Earth had brought her to such a point?

Then he thought better. Those who wanted such deserved it. He released her abruptly. Dakota stumbled before she landed with a splash into the water.

Leathan turned away, disgusted. Old wounds threatened to bubble to the surface. He’d dealt with suicide before. Damned if he would again. Human life was a gift.

“Screw you!”

Screw him? Furious, he spun to witness Dakota stumbling out of the sea with a finger pointed at him. “Go back.” Walking backward, he nodded toward the black ocean beyond. “I won’t stop you from that. Not the sort of service you sought me out for. Sorry.”

Dakota stopped, legs akimbo, arms shaking. “We have a bigger problem.”

“What bigger problem could there be?” He walked her way. “A haunted house or its suicidal


“I’m thinking the haunted house has us all beat.” Dakota stared past him, eyes wide.

When was the last time he’d got so aggravated with a woman? Especially one he’d just met. Had she really been trapped on the fourth floor or had that been some sort of a suicidal cry for help? Who cared if he’d sensed the house was a little spooked. Leathan would leave this case for another investigative crew. “My team and I will leave in the morn. It’s obvious you sought me for whatever twisted reasons your mind told you to.”

Dakota’s gaze fell from the horizon. Her eyes narrowed. “You are a complete jackass.”

“And you have some serious issues to tackle.”

“Do I?”

“I’m convinced.”

“Turn around and tell me if you still feel the same.”

For no other reason than to make his way back to his team, Leathan turned.

He stopped short.

Holy shit!

Sky here. Be sure to leave a comment for a chance to win an Ecopy of The Victorian Lure. Interested in checking out the character blog for the paranormal investigators from Calum's Curse? Head over to Paranormal/Syfy Romance- Deep, Dark & Delicious.

Purchase The Victorian Lure through The Wild Rose Press, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
Join me again tomorrow as I share a super sexy hot expert from The Victorian Lure.


Friday, November 11, 2011

Where Ghosts Come to Play. Sexy Paranormal Excerpts. 1 of 3. Chance to Win!

It’s finally that time! 11.11.11 has arrived.

In this case, the date means the release of my long awaited novel, The Victorian Lure (Calum’s Curse: Ardetha Vampyre). I started writing this book a few years ago. At birth, it was an entirely different story. In fact, it was originally drafted to be the follow-up to Highland Muse which was part of The Song of the Muses Anthology at The Wild Rose Press. Regrettably, that never happened.

But I didn’t let that get me down.

Instead, I gave the story a complete overhaul which included expanding it from a novella into a full novel. Gone were the Greek gods. In their place, ghosts and yes, even a nasty nemesis of a vampire. I was pretty shocked by the whole turn of events and how eventually this book became the first in a trilogy about three haunted houses which imprison creatures of the night. Three creatures bent on destroying descendants of Calum himself.

Who is Calum?

As it turns out, Calum had what I like to call a ‘there but not there’ part in my recently re-launched MacLomain Series. In Fate’s Monolith (Book 1) he was the babe in Marie’s belly. In Sylvan Mist (Book 3) he was the brother overseas studying in France. Yet these were novels that took place in the colonial period. The Victorian Lure takes place in present day. So there you have it, Calum is a ghost that though it seems he haunts the house, he’s really haunting his descendants to not only protect them but help them solve the mystery of the creatures sent to destroy them.

So who are these doomed descendants?

Three cousins, all born in different parts of the world, who run the Worldwide Paranormal Society. One is Scottish, one Irish and the third, American. In The Victorian Lure, you’ll meet Leathan Stewart, head paranormal investigator and journey with the team through the turbulent whirlwind of the Victorian and its role in Calum’s curse. Interested in 'meeting' the team? Before you leave A Writer's Mind today, be sure to head over to their new character blog, Paranormal/Syfy Romance- Deep, Dark and Delicious.

The fun part of the Calum's Curse trilogy?

Besides Calum, other characters from The MacLomain Series make an appearance throughout the Calum’s Curse Trilogy. If you’ve read the series you’re familiar with the Adlin, head shaman and meddlesome cupid. He’s back in The Victorian Lure as a ghost and moral compass for the ghost hunters. Enjoyed Destiny’s Denial? Well, Caitlin and Ferchar, join the paranormal crew in a most unexpected way!

I decided to celebrate the launch of the series with excerpts from The Victorian Lure shared throughout the weekend. Yes, Halloween may have come and gone elsewhere but here at A Writer’s Mind, ghostly encounters have only just begun. As an added bonus, I'd like to host a contest. Once lucky winner will be drawn from all comments left on posts between now and Sunday. The prize? A free Ecopy of The Victorian Lure! Before we begin, a bit about the book...

Is it true love or is the magnetic pull just another part of the Victorian's lure?

Dakota Allerton depends on no one but herself, but then she's never needed a ghost hunter. When her dream home becomes a house of horrors that is holding her hostage, her only hope is a Scotsman who investigates the paranormal.

The supernatural is nothing Leathan Stewart can't handle. However, trapped in Dakota's cursed Victorian home, he finds himself falling back in time. Only those who persevere can survive the dark domination.

Fear has a way of drawing two people together but so does the need to be loved. Dakota and Leathan must fight against unknown enemies, discover the secrets of Calum's Curse and defeat a vampire bent on finishing the legacy it began.

So why not start out right with the bone-chilling scene that caused Dakota to seek help to begin with? (Please note: this dialogue is intended for a mature audience)

Chapter One

Rye Beach, New Hampshire

Present Day

Walk in. Never look back. Leave it all behind. The icy ocean swirled around her ankles. The steady ebb and flow of waves an undeniable invitation.

“Don’t do it.”

“What?” Dakota spun. Nobody stood there. Only the Queen Anne Victorian mansion gazed down from its perch across the dark, desolate road. Her new home seemed more sinister than the fate she’d contemplated moments ago. She ran a shaky hand through her short locks and shivered. What was she thinking? With a deep breath, she sucked in the salty autumn air and frowned. Why, after all this time, did she suddenly turn coward?

“Shake it off, stay strong,” Dad had always said.

And, to this day, she had.

Imagine if he could see her now. Dakota headed for the house. Pins and needles stung her wet feet when she crossed grainy sand and frozen asphalt. As she climbed the stairs to the front door, light flooded the foyer. Thank God the power was on. It was about time. The thought of spending the night huddled in front of the fireplace drinking bottled water hadn’t appealed to her in the least. Locating the thermostat, she cranked the heat.

An eerie chill slithered up her spine. Alert, she studied every corner. Was someone watching her? Impossible. Had to be her imagination.

Ten minutes later, Dakota plunked down in front of the one thing worth living for, her top of the line computer. Snuggling deeper into her oversized sweatshirt, she defrosted her toes in fuzzy slippers and logged on. With a couple of clicks of her mouse, she had surfed through her competitor’s sites, looking for functionality and/or upgrades. She knew damned well they were doing the same thing.

Screw them.

Give it a month or two, and she’d leave most of them in the dust. After all, the social networking site she created was different than most. It had two options for customers to choose from. One section brought fans of anything paranormal together. Like vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters, creatures of the night? It included a feature that allowed people to create their own unique page and befriend whoever they liked on the site. The other─and far more lucrative option─was the dating section. Looking for a fellow reaper devotee, maybe a sexy hunk with fangs in his closet? Don’t go any further! In addition, her site had superior security that was implemented and designed differently than any other site online.

So far, jackpot.

2.4 million dollars later, she was still undecided whether to sell to one of the top search engines. Dakota took a sip from a teeming glass of merlot and admired her site’s splash page. Twisting in from a murky pool of black and gray it ended on a small red dot. Click, click on the dot. A werewolf sprang forward, fangs dripping blood, eyes eager. Click, click again and enter the main site. She grinned. It wasn’t always a werewolf. She’d created over ten different ferocious monsters and coded them to randomly display on her splash page.

She clicked on the words, Welcome, madness. Name your space.

Enter name. She typed, “Last Girl Standing.”

Enter password. She typed, “betyourass.”

Once the page loaded, Dakota sifted through comments, mail, invites. Why the hell had she created a page here? Morbid curiosity she supposed. Or just shitty memories. Then again, she’d made a few good friends. One in particular had caught her attention. He called himself “Ghost of a Chance.” Like her, he was a software engineer, specializing in web development, so they’d had numerous conversations about graphics, animation, advertising, and other related topics. Besides that, she knew little about him personally.

A previously left instant message popped up from him. “Looks like I missed you. Hope to chat soon!”

Dakota smiled and closed the message. She didn’t even know what he looked like, where he came from, but she wanted to know more. Much more.

A sizzling fire erupted in the bottom right hand corner of the screen. Someone was trying to contact her via instant message. Hell, she thought that’d been set to invisible. Eyes narrowed, she clicked on the inquiring name “I Remember You.” Whoever they were had typed, “Wanna have some fun?”

Um, no.

Just about to sign off chat, she stopped when they typed, “Awe, c’mon Miss England!”

Dakota froze. She flexed her fingers and typed, “Who is this?”

Only a site “friend” could instant message her.

No response.

They must’ve got the wrong person.

About to sign off another message appeared. “Has it been so long that you’ve forgotten me?”

She typed, “Think you got the wrong person.”

“Hmmm, doubt it.”

Knees tapping beneath the desk, fingers shaking slightly, Dakota shook her head.

“Getting nervous, Miss England?”

So not gonna take this. Dakota logged out of the site and closed the browser. Strangely enough, the splash page popped up again. She frowned. Click, click. The browser wouldn’t close. Dakota hit the “off” button on the computer.

Still no change.

The splash page had loaded. The red point wanted to be clicked. Hell if she would! She took her hand off the mouse. It clicked on its own! Eyes wide, she rolled back. Instead of a creature screaming forward, a globe of the Earth did. Long-fingered masculine hands formed around the globe. Even the wide, half-mooned nail beds could be seen.

Dakota blinked. “I’ve gotta be seeing things,” she whispered.

The hands began to decay, the cuticles peeled back, the knuckles crawled with vermin. Someone whispered, “Are you sure?”

Dakota covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head again.

A teeth-grinding laugh blared through her speakers. The hands twirled the planet, faster and faster. She pinched the bridge of her nose and narrowed her eyes. Think. Think. She leaned over and pulled the computer cord from the wall. Still, the hands decayed faster while they whirled the globe quicker. At that exact moment, the miniature portrayal of the Earth flew out of the computer screen and sailed over her head.

Dakota swiveled her chair and gripped the armrests. Her wine glass hit the floor and shattered. This can’t be happening. But no, the eighteen inch portrayal of the Earth hit the far wall. It slammed to the floor, rolled and stopped at her feet. Red wine swirled around the planet. She peered down. It looked like something. But what? Holy crap. Was it? Could it be? It appeared Earth was drowning in blood.

Blinking, Dakota tried to clear her vision. This had to be a joke. What if it wasn’t? Should she run? Get the heck out of there. She didn’t know what to do so. Foolish or brave, she leaned over and studied the very real globe smoking at her feet. She touched the surface and yanked her hand back. Ouch! Hot! Cocking her head, she looked closer. A burn clearly marked the country of Scotland.

Slowly, carefully, Dakota rolled her chair away. The globe must have been there all along. This was a figment of her imagination. The computer whirred. She swung back to the screen. Blood boiled beneath her cheeks. Fear made her limbs freeze. Hell had a name.

And it had found her at last.

Sky here. Be sure to join me again tomorrow as I continue this excerpt right where I'm leaving off. Tomorrow the Worldwide Paranormal Society enters Dakota's victorian for the first time. And Dakota meets lead investigator Leathan Stewart.

Purchase The Victorian Lure through The Wild Rose Press, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Veteran's Day. 11.11.11. Thank You.

I could never find the right words or enough words to express how thankful I am to my countries veterans. I would not be able to enjoy the freedom I have today had you not put your lives on the line.

This morning on the news I heard a story about Grace Darling Seibold, a woman who started a group called American Gold Star Mothers. It’s not only a support group for moms of fallen soldiers but a support network in itself that travels across the country spending time with and thanking all of our veterans. If you’re a mom who has lost a child to war or know someone who has, you might want to check out American Gold Star Mothers.

Wishing every branch of the United States Military a very Happy Veteran’s Day.

Best Always,


Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Hywela Lyn's Contest Winners Plus Some F.Y.I.'s.

What a great time last week! It was a pleasure having romance author, Hywela Lyn and her wonderful characters over to visit. As you know there was a contest running and two winners were drawn.

A huge round of congrat's goes out to Sheila Deeth and Francine Howarth. Lyn will be in touch with your prizes. If you didn't receive her email please contact me at SkyPurington@live.com.

I thought while I had you I'd share the latest and greatest badge Tamra Westberry whipped up for me. Love it!

The countdown is officially on. Seventeen days until my What Every Woman Wants Beneath Her Christmas Tree Blog Event launches. *Wide smile*

Also, stay tuned. I have a release this Friday. The Victorian Lure (Calum's Curse: Ardetha Vampyre), the first in my upcoming paranormal trilogy. You don't want to miss meeting these sexy-as-heck paranormal investigators turned warlock! I'll fill you in more later in the week. Until then... be good.