As an Author, What Scares Me the Most by Miriam Newman – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Miriam Newman will award a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

As an author, what scares me the most is…
That would have to be the universally dreaded writer’s block. I like to call it the dreaded writer’s PAUSE, because I’m trying to deny its existence as the veritable steel curtain that drops down in the middle of my brain, insisting that it wants to watch 80 episodes of Magnificent Century without pause instead of writing. Alternatively, it can force me to clean the house (sometimes several times), muck out the barn, bake something I can barely remember for which I lost the recipe years ago or even clean out a flooded basement. That last one is particularly distasteful, especially when the power is out (which is why the basement is flooded) and unidentifiable things are hitting my legs in the dark and icy cold water.

Or I could try to walk three dogs simultaneously, getting pulled over and tearing an ankle ligament. That one was particularly painful, although it did force me to sit down and write, since I couldn’t walk.

But I have a muse named Persephone (after the Queen of Hell) who regularly goes AWOL, leaving me to cope with her absence as best I can. And as you see from the above, that’s not very well.

Those who survived the Battle of Grandfather Mountain are said to be in the Hand of the Gods. No one will need that more than Sange, sister of Arak clan chieftain Javrik. Drawn to Arman Garimandi, the Omani cavalry officer who saved her people during the siege, she shocks her family by marrying him despite her brother’s caution that someday he will break her heart. Blindly in love, she follows Arman to two different forts where he is ordered. At the first, danger comes unexpectedly in the form of another woman And at the second, she finds herself an unwitting pawn–possibly even a prisoner–between two powerful nations.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Sunny Omana had felt strangely like home to Arman, probably because he had heard about it all his life. And then, when their army had defeated the Domidian hordes that had conquered it and sent him to scout the upper portions, inhabited by nomadic Arak tribes, finally he knew life had given him another chance, probably undeserved after the things he had done, but a chance all the same.

He was looking at her now, sitting on her small Arak horse, framed against vast green plains below them where wind moved in circles and waves through wild grasses. Low purple and tan foothills rose from them, shadowed by clouds, and beyond those were mountains so steep that snowcapped them even in the midst of summer. Domidians on the other side had never crossed them in force. That was why the eastern portion of Arak lands, where Sange had never been, was spared the slaughter those in the center faced as Domidians who had occupied southern Omana fled forces drawn from the compact of nations who freed it from them. Now those mountains harbored their remnants, swelling ranks of brigands who had been there for years. It was a dangerous place, but she had packed up and taken horse with him when his orders sent him there. Just as his father’s Emperator had sent him to exile in a foreign land, the one in Arman’s time had done the same. The difference was that in his, Arman had found the last woman he would ever love.

Wisps of hair had escaped her headscarf, strands of gold flying in the wind, occasionally touching her sculpted cheeks. She had a mouth made for kissing and eyes as green as gems, oddly ringed with a darker shade outlining the iris like some elfin creature. Every feature was delicate, her body a wonder and a pleasure to him. She was young and she was hope, when he had lost all of his.

About the Author:I fell in love long ago with fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends, as well as stories of heroes and battles. Ancient Celtic writings were my special passion, along with the Roman Empire, Roman Britain, the Norman invasion of England, and tales of the Vikings. My first book emerged when I was an…ahem…youthful 52. Well, I’m not 52 any more and up to 34 books and it’s been a great run.

Retired from many years in social work, now I pass my days writing, researching and living with a pack of highly demanding rescue dogs. I write in every genre I please and you can see my books at my website.

Website | Dark Castle Lords Website | Blog | Celtic Rose Blog | Email | Facebook | Twitter | BookBub Author Page | Goodreads Author Page | Amazon Author Page
Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Smashwords.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Light of Gods by Miriam Newman – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Miriam Newman will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

In ages gone by, the gods of the mountains had split the earth in two. Now that passage must form a barrier against invaders. Javrik, clan chieftain’s son, has known his wife for only a month when he must defend her. Arman, soldier from a far-off land, finds himself fighting for people he never knew existed. The lives of nomads, raiders, warriors and lovers are changed forever in the shadow of Grandfather Mountain.

Enjoy an Excerpt

The chestnut, uncharacteristically, took a misstep and then another. He had been going on a loose rein, but now he raised his head and Javrik tensed instantly. The sun was long past its zenith, but bright enough. There would be no concealment for any rider who left the woods or the walls, so he pulled up in the shelter of some stones that were still standing and waited, short sword in hand. He carried a bow, the sword and a dagger. Araks had never made armor. He had a fast horse, but that was no defense against an arrow.

He had no defense of any meaningful kind against what he saw emerge from the woods. An Omani cavalry officer in full battle gear rode towards him at a flat-footed walk, and Javrik made a small sign of supplication to his gods because it was like looking at a ghost. They had assumed not one of those men still lived, yet here was one with armor, sword and spear, riding a horse capable of knocking his horse flat and running him over. It was what they were trained to do.

The officer‘s bay charger stopped instantly, perhaps twenty paces from him. Javrik had not even seen the rider signal the horse. The horse wore armor, too, on its most vulnerable spots, gleaming in the sunlight. A single mounted Omani cavalryman was said to be worth three of any other because you could stop them only with a crossbow or a spear, neither of which he had.

“Hola,” Javrik said, using the universal greeting, then switching to Omani, hoping it was good enough. “I have no quarrel with you.”

The officer removed his helmet; he had understood. He was older than Javrik but still young, with dark curly hair and a typical Omani profile—bold features, olive skin. And clean-shaven, which meant he was from a city somewhere.

“Nor I with you,” he said.

About the Author Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals. You can see my books at my website.

Website | Website | Blog | The Celtic Rose Blog | Email | Facebook | Twitter | BookBub | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Winter Princess by Miriam Newman – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Miriam Newman will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Given to an enemy king to seal a treaty, Sereen of Havacia is known as The Winter Princess. Can she ever find a summer of the heart?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Enter, Princess, and be welcome.” Her escort vanished and Sereen was utterly alone with only the seer and the flicker of flame.

“I am honored.” She was familiar with the Mothers, who also served in Armatica, obedient to the authority in each country and sublimely indifferent to all of them. It was not that their tentacles did not thread through each locus of power, only that they did not flaunt it, so secretive that one could only speculate on their influence. Sereen wondered how close Vanus was to them, yet he had not seemed eager to admit their company. Her father had never trifled with them, either, saying it was unhealthy to do so.

“I bring greetings from the King,” Sereen said, dutifully making Vanus’s case—assuming he had any. “And charity for your works.” Deftly, she unwrapped the ties from around her waist, laying his purse carefully at the bare feet of Mother Jalena. Heavily shrouded elsewhere, still the seer observed the custom of keeping her feet bare to feel vibrations of the earth, said to be a powerful conveyor of prescience for those able to discern it. Sereen had toyed with such practices as most young girls did, enough to know that she had no gifts, only the ability to feel them in others.

“We are grateful.” Mother spoke through her veil. Sereen could barely see the outline of her lips moving and could not see her face at all. It was said that the Flame Mothers were scarred by fire ritual, but since their faces were never seen, it remained a mystery. Certainly her speech was not impaired and the hand with which she took Sereen’s offering was not marred, nor did it appear crone-like. She was a puzzle.

“And what do you seek of me?” Sereen sat down in front of her, legs folded, a dutiful supplicant.

“Only what most brides seek, I suppose,” she answered. “Whatever future you see for me in my marriage.”

Unexpectedly, Mother Jalena chuckled—a rich sound, not so ancient.

“You have no future with Vanus,” she said, “but I need no prescience to know that.”

About the Author:

Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals. You can see my books at my website.

Website | Dark Castle Lords | Blog | Celtic Rose Blog | Facebook | Twitter | BookBub | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

Buy the book at Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

A Day With Me Behind the Scenes by Miriam Newman – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Miriam Newman will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A Day With Me Behind the Scenes

Ah, it’s so tempting to lie.

How I would love to write an idyllic scene in which I awake to coffee and croissants in bed served by one of the hunks in one of my books, followed by a leisurely chat with my faithful assistant who will handle the multitude of take down letters issued to sites stealing my books while that person arranges promotions, composes graceful answers to fan mail and perhaps arranges a photo shoot for a new head shot. Presumably, my fans want to see how I really look and not how I looked twenty years ago. Oh, and of course he or she must go the post office to clear out new fan letters and generous royalty checks from publishers.

Instead, here is what happens. Between 4:30 and 5:30 a.m., one of my four rescue dogs steps on my head. Aroused by growls as they fight for this honor, I stumble out of bed—usually cursing—and down the steps with a flashlight in my hand. Eventually all of us are fed, one of us is dressed, and after checking my computer it’s off to work I go. I work for a small rural municipality you’d think would be quiet and peaceful, but you would be wrong. All day long, I will be bombarded by requests for building permits from people who are still pretty much locked down and are taking this opportunity to build a deck, put in a generator (our electric service rivals a Third World country), construct a garage, etc., etc. Sometimes this involves earthmoving and digging that involves the EPA and Health Department because nobody knew it was being done and it is flagrantly illegal. Those days are especially entertaining.

I cannot tell a lie—I do check my emails, my blog and Facebook during the day. Sometimes this prompts me to get straight to work when I get home. More often, it prompts me to take a nap to gather the energy to get to work. Then, after courting my muse with an hour of watching something like Game of Thrones or my current love, Yellowstone, I become the keyboard warrior. This may involve actually hitting keys or it may be a case of staring longingly at my monitor, waiting for inspiration to strike. If I have a work in progress, inspiration usually strikes. If I don’t, it’s a matter of sorting out the dozen books that all want to come out AT THE SAME TIME. It’s like choosing among your children. Eventually, one of them outshouts the other.

That lasts till about 10 p.m., when the same four dogs inform me in no uncertain terms that’s it is time for biscuit and bed.

So this, my friends, is the exciting life of a writer, or at least this writer. At one time, it was punctuated by long stretches of caring for a barn full of horses, which I did happily for fifty years. But it’s time for a rest. You may, however, see some of them making appearances in my books. They are many happy memories.

Born to a mysterious Celtic woman and a Roman father in Britannia, Domi seems destined for a life of ignominy until he is adopted by a Roman tribune. When he is forced to choose between his native land and his adopted one, and between the living and the dead, which will he choose?

Enjoy an Excerpt

Brittania, 60 A.D.

The boy knew Moire was dying. For some time now she had lain on her cot, not eating, barely drinking, complaining of a pain in her side like a beast trying to claw its way out. She was skeletal because she did not eat even when he brought her food, and stank because she could no longer clean herself. It was the same with the animals when they grew old and their time had come—their coats matted, their eyes grew dim. He knew death when he saw it.

It was a sad thing for animals to die so they could be eaten, but why people should die was a mystery. He had often wondered, but had to be content with the Druids’ explanation that they would be taken up by the Tree of Life, to come again. He needed a Druid.

He knew that Moire had hoarded coins in a small box beneath her cot against such an eventuality. Bound by honor, he had never filched a single coin even when he would have liked a sweetmeat to relieve his tedious diet. She did feed him and he had some gratitude for that. He was not a slave, but yet was not her family, so his position had always been tenuous. He supposed she hadn’t been obligated to offer him anything, so he had been honest and worked hard for his keep. But finally, this day, she told him to take out her pathetic horde.

“When I am gone,” she said, “boil the eggs.”

“Boil the eggs?” he repeatedly dumbly. It was the kind of remark that always infuriated her. They had lived together, widow and foundling, for all of his eleven years since his mother had come into the village, far along in labor and claiming no kin. The women had helped her out of kindness, but understood her predicament when she said the baby she delivered came from rape by a Roman. Such a child could be exposed if she wished it, but Moire had asked to have him, pointing out that she had no husband or children to care for her in her old age. And so she had brought him up after a fashion, but they had never understood each other.

“They will keep in the shell if you do not crack them,” she said, more patient than usual. “Take care of the animals and then wrap the eggs and some oatcakes. When I am gone, take them and go to Cloin the Druid. Give him my money and tell him I need burial. Then go south.”

“South?” He was completely confused.

“To the Romans,” she said. “You look like one of them. They may take you.”

About the Author:Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals.

Website | Website | Blog | The Celtic Rose Blog | Facebook | Twitter | BookBub | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

Buy the book at Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

While it may not be easy to achieve with Voice Broadcasting and not just “adding inches” for the short term, but “adding inches” for the long haul. levitra 60 mg http://deeprootsmag.org/2015/01/26/skip-james-made-manifest/ Emotional Problems The prime reason for sexual impotence or erectile bargain prices order cheap levitra dysfunction. Overall dysfunction as well as the wastage of skeletal muscles is the two most independent buy viagra sale predictors of mortality amongst the patients of sexual weaknesses. Most of the fat burners (except carnitine) have a stimulating effect on the human nervous system. india online cialis

Warlord by Miriam Newman – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Miriam Newman will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Ganina is a young girl with love to give, but giving it may cost her life.

Given to a famous old warlord to seal a treaty between two tribes, Ganina is a young girl with love to give. But Atulfa is old enough to be her grandfather. Then Atulfa and his oldest son die under mysterious circumstances and it is rumored that a younger son, Senec, has arranged their deaths.

Left without the old man’s protection, Ganina is fodder for the vicious torment of his other wives. She has no choice but to cast her lot with Senec.

Whatever he is, he is the new warlord and she is now at his mercy.

Enter an Exclusive Excerpt

She rode like the hand of death pursued her, while behind her Aben and another boy drove the herd, screaming and pelting them with rocks so that they galloped between her and enemies streaming into the camp. It was too much to hope they had not seen her, but the living tide of ponies was impenetrable and there was no immediate pursuit. Lighter and faster than any man, Ganina rode for her life with every bit of skill and cunning bred into the daughter of a mountain warlord. The black pony followed almost without need for a tether, so close that his hooves cut the shadow of the other animal. Although Ganina could feel Gilya’s small arms pressed against her ribs, gripping the cloth of her blouse, Donleth’s instruction held him silent. The child’s cooperation would not last indefinitely, but for the moments she needed, it sufficed.

“AYAHH!” she screamed into the bay pony’s ear, kicking furiously. Though she wore only kidskin slippers donned for sleep, he stretched into headlong flight so fast that she felt the chafe of windburn across her face. He could not maintain it for long, but she needed only a head start. After that, she needed to find a short cut to the lowlands over rocky and difficult places where she might outdistance the other riders handicapped by unfamiliarity with the terrain. Though she felt Gilya’s slight form pressed against her, she had no time for him. There was no time for anything but smelling the reek of sweat from her galloping pony, hearing the startled whoosh of birds spooked by his passage, the rush of wind and the thunder of her terrified heart.

About the Author:Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals. You can see my books at my website.

Website

Buy the book at Amazon or Smashwords.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Keep in mind that it is not a hormone that helps you obtain erection for longer successfully.Various Kamagra versions are Kamagra order viagra prescription tablet, Kamagra jelly, Kamagra softs is a renowned treatment of finding fast relief from male disorder with world class Kamagra. Yasuhiro Irie, the director of Brotherhood, offers viagra online from canada a more comprehensive account that flows higher with what has already been provided. Even if you are located in Arizona and the classes are conducted in Georgia, you have got nothing to worry about because all you need is a company that offers absolutely supreme quality turf and installs them too in a competent manner, with the help of its expert and http://twomeyautoworks.com/item-3537 viagra shop usa professional staff. Impotence is a sexual disorder that affects men and is characterized by a person lacking the ability to achieve or sustain an erection due to lowered blood supply to the male reproductive system and by relieving the twists and turns of the arteries making it a capable organ to deal with cheap levitra canada erection troubles.

Ideal Writing Space by Miriam Newman – Guest Blog and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Miriam Newman will be awarding a $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Ideal Writing Space

Picture a small office with a good oak desk, a bookcase overflowing with romance and reference books, a computer, a printer, a lamp that I think came from my high school days and four to six dogs stretched out on the well worn rug at any given time. Oh, and it has a view of green acres, or as much of them as you can see through the forest of trees outside my window. There is an air conditioner, thanks be, rattling away in that window. And lining the walls are framed copies of every one of my book covers, a tradition started by a friend, and prints of horse races, fox hunts and most of the horses I have owned. Yep, there it is—my little piece of Heaven.

I think every writer has to have that little piece of his or her soul. I know that no gleaming edifice could ever give birth to my books. My books have to have a place that is ME. In former years when the kids were home there was also a sign that said Do Not Disturb Unless Someone is Bleeding. They thought I was joking.

There is frequently food in that office (maybe the reason there are frequently dogs in that office) and it ranges from my Irish Nana’s scones to the other Grandma’s blintzes—preferably cheese. Both sides—Irish and Russian—were dedicated tea drinkers, so you can usually find that as well. I do give preference to Nana’s bone china that accompanied her from Ireland, although I only have two precious cups left. A treasured friend gave me the Rockingham teapot I often carry upstairs to my office, where it duly steeps loose-leaf tea. None of that bagged stuff for Nana and none for me! Very occasionally I infuse it with a shot of light rum, usually when struggling with a plot point. But those days are rare. I am very sedate now.

This office of mine has created every variety of romance, but this time—for this book—it gave me (and hopefully you) the true story of my first rescue dog. There have been many since, but Dancer was the first. And, yes, she shared this office when she wasn’t destroying my house or her crate or the cat—but that’s another story. I was far less sedate in those days and we had adventures worth a book, some of which involved the dog driving me to drink and it wasn’t tea. But I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.

What do you do when you are alone in the world? If you’re a nice middle-aged lady with a social conscience, you go to your local shelter and adopt a rescue dog. Of course, sometimes it isn’t only the dog who needs to be rescued. That’s when life might send you a Dancer-Dog.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“We’re home,” I said in that tone you use when you give a dog the good news, and her soft ears pricked. She sat up, looking eagerly out the window. She hadn’t come to any palace, just a hundred-year-old Victorian cottage swamped with evergreens, bamboo and a lot of weeds I never found time to whack. But it boasted a fascinating yard I had already decided to have fenced in despite the cost. Sam and I walked the perimeter of the proposed yard so the dog could pee copiously once more, and then my friend had to take her leave of us. She had been walking Dancer and the dog seemed a trifle confused when I took the leash, as though she had considered Sam her new owner, but when I led her into a warm place that smelled like food, she went right in.

Kitty, accustomed to dogs, actually deigned to thump down from the rocking chair to greet us. The next thing I knew, I was flattened against the solid oak door as a rampaging whirlwind ripped out of my unprepared grasp. The cat had MOVED–God save the mark!—and Dancer responded instantly. Poor Kitty, who hadn’t run that fast since her youth, whipped up the slippery wooden steps. She was able to make good her getaway because Dancer had never before encountered steps. The dog thrashed at the bottom, lunging in impotent fury, unable to deduce how to get upstairs.

“No!” I admonished when I could catch my breath. “Bad dog! No chase!”

She looked at me as if I was crazy.

“Oh, come on,” I said, relenting. “Let’s eat.”

“I was just about to,” her expression said. “Where did that cat go, anyway?”

Kitty had gone to the attic. She stayed there for a long time and she must have had telepathy with Smudgie, the barn cat, because I didn’t see old Smudge for days.
Her food disappeared and so did she.

There followed a delightful afternoon and evening of snoozing on the couch with the dog tucked in the same position she had assumed with Sam, in this case flat on top of me with her nose between my neck and shoulder. As long as her eyes were hidden, that tuck seemed to say, she couldn’t spot anyone coming to take her away from heaven. A wave of protective warmth suffused my heart. This dog must have been through hell. Who knew what awful things had happened to her? Well, her troubles were over. I would see to that.

About the Author Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals. You can see my books at my website.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads | Blog

Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble. All proceeds to be donated to Home Free Animal Rescue, Red Bank, NJ.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Besides, milk with hone, prescription de cialis egg and carrots, water melon and some herbs can be taken without any apprehension but not without prescription. Robotic surgery is fast becoming the norm for a number of purchasing viagra australia http://cute-n-tiny.com/cute-animals/dumbo-octopus/ surgical procedures. Her emotional on line levitra state has a lot to do with a man s sexual health. If samples of viagra purchased here the symptoms are controlled with the drug, you have to log in to a site preferable and place an order for it.

Character Creation by Lynn Hubbard – Guest Blog and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Character Creation
by Lynn Hubbard

Character Creation is one of my specialties. Every character is important. I try to flesh out as many characters as possible. Of course you want your Main characters to live and breathe but your sub characters are also important.
It helps to keep a journal with the basics. What do they look like? Hair, eye color, height, scars, etc. This might seem to be a bit much but you don’t want someone hitting their head on a doorframe in one chapter that you described as being short and stumpy in another.

Pretty much anyone that that your main characters talk to or interacts with needs a back story. Not a full back story but something about their past would be good. In my book, Run into the Wind, I have an Army Captain pop up a couple of times. One of my fans wrote begging me to write a story about him, that he was her favorite character. You never really know who your readers will fall in love with.

You need to think about your characters. Their actions and interactions should not be forced. Build the scene and describe what you see in your mind. Your character walks by a little boy crying. Take the time to introduce your readers to him. Had he just fallen and has a scrapped knee? Did his mother scold him? Just a little bit more information can change your story from 2 Dimensional to 3D. Is your character concerned about him or are they bothered by the noise? Learning about sub characters also gives us and our readers more insight into our main characters.

The Gingerbread Man- A Scrumptious Erotic Fairytale
by Lynn Hubbard

Once upon a time there was a girl named Penelope. Food was scarce those days, and she had to walk miles looking for roots or berries to eat. After a long, hot morning Penelope was tired and hungry. A delicious scent led her to a cabin deep in the woods. She followed it in anticipation of having all her needs filled.

The Legend of M’Rith
by Miriam Newman

By 1844, an increase in the human population of Ireland has forced Fae inhabitants from their lush green homes in the East to the spare, bare terrain of the West–except for one. M’Rith, half fairie and half elf, has been bidden by her Queen Mother to remain in the forest, promising her a mortal man to love. Kieran, the village blacksmith, has lost his wife and lives in the same painful solitude as M’Rith, but he is a worker of iron that can mortally wound a fairie lover.

To Adventure
by Jae El Foster

There is a black plague crossing from kingdom to kingdom, placed upon a slumbering princess by her wicked stepmother, and only with true love’s kiss can the spell be lifted. Will the plague encompass all before that kiss can be sealed, or will the power of true love make itself known to the handsome Prince Harold, providing him with the adventure of a lifetime?

Enjoy an excerpt from The Gingerbread Man- A Scrumptious Erotic Fairytale by Lynn Hubbard

Unable to stem her curiosity, Penelope took a couple steps to the open doorway. She was shocked when she peeked inside. There was a bed and a man lying on top.

At least she assumed it was a man. The room was dark so she could not make out his features. Stepping closer, she froze as the wooden floor creaked beneath her feet.

Thankfully, he did not move. Taking a step closer, and then another, she reached the side of the bed. Looking down, she was shocked at what she had found: A life size Gingerbread man. She blinked her eyes twice to make sure she was seeing things right. Verifying she was sane. She fell to her knees in shock.

About the Authors: Lynn Hubbard is a Historical Fiction author. She has been writing for over ten years and has eight books. Most of which are westerns. Lynn is fascinated by the Old West and her books portray when life was simpler. When, people worked hard, and sweated to make an honest living. And when justice wasn’t always blind.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Miriam Newman: Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Jae El Foster is an author with whom you question going to bed with at night, but you dare to venture beneath the sheets with him anyway. As the venture concludes, you are perhaps romanced by it, or perhaps you are frightened by it. Don’t worry, because you are always satisfied by it. Despite the title or genre of the book, Jae El sets out to please you with climatic and unexpected conclusions that will make you tremble with emotion. Hop aboard the Jae El train and give it a good ride.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Google+ | Amazon Author Page

a Rafflecopter giveawayYou tell me, what is the point of buying Kamagra for? You bought the medication online so you could improve your love life and if you are too busy discount cialis prices to make time for it, you just wasted your hard-earned money. If you are cialis samples continue reading for info going out of state funds. How to run the dosage Men generic cialis australia holding ED issue must take this medicine under the guidance of a doctor or your health guide. So the testicular cancer can be detected by men generika cialis tadalafil themselves during self-examination.

Dark Child by Miriam Newman – Spotlight and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Miriam will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Born at a royal banquet for King Conor MacNessa of Ulster, Deirdre is predicted by Conor’s own druid to be blessed and cursed with a beauty that will make kingdoms contest over her. He names her “Deirdre of the Sorrows” and urges the king to slay her. But Conor, unwilling to murder a babe, takes her under his protection only to fall prey to the curse when she is nearly grown. Captivated by her youth and beauty, the aging king will go to any extreme to possess her.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Once inside, the king and his guests found beef and mutton and pork…fowl and venison and fine, firm pink salmon borne on ice across the sea from Alba where ice was often to be found. Curds and whey they had, and all else that a dairy might supply. There were breads and cakes, pies and pasties of every sort and great quantities of wine, honey mead and ale both light and dark. Yet so deep went Conor’s unease that he had no appetite for them. Singers, dancers and musicians both foreign and native performed, male and female alike, but the crash and roar of the storm drowned out the sounds of their merry-making. Men marked that never had such a storm visited Ulster. Irishmen all they were and accustomed to the rains and gales of their island, but even Conor agreed it seemed no natural storm and that he, too, had a feeling of doom.

“Nonsense,” Felim insisted stoutly as the king merely nibbled at his food, for he saw all his plans dashed to destruction and the favor he wished of Conor turned to stone. “’Tis but a storm!”

Hardly had the words left the storyteller’s mouth than a terrifying scream split the air, a sound to raise the bristle hair on a hound’s back.

“’Tis only my wife, who labors,” Felim insisted, but the king took not a bite further of his food and sat with a pale and ashen face.

“’Bring her here,” Conor ordered, “that I may see if that is the scream of any mortal woman, for I much doubt it.”

And so the unfortunate woman was required to present herself to the king.

“Tell me true,” Conor demanded, “was it you who screamed?”

Felim’s haggard and trembling wife, fearing for her life, nonetheless shook her head, for she knew her maidservants would give her away if she lied to the great king.

“Nay, my lord,” she replied. “’Tis the child that screamed from inside my womb.”

“This is a thing I have never known!” Conor exclaimed, while beside him his druid Catha stood abruptly to lay a hand upon the mother’s belly, his expression dire.

“’Tis the scream of a girl child,” he predicted, “and her name will be Deirdre, the call of alarm, for she will bring war.”

About the Author: Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals.

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter

Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

It used transdermal technology for administration of the ingredients levitra order that you can look for is the presence of Gingko Biloba, a substance that has a proven track record for safety and success. Antidepressants can cause developmental problems – These drugs can have purchase generic levitra a few dangerous side effects. You don’t have to pills viagra be worry about a licensed workers. The Internet is diversifying at a great speed. cheap cialis midwayfire.com