Monday, March 19, 2018

Here Be News

Posted by: Veronica Scott
New Releases:

Other News:
We're celebrating Spring with a fun giveaway! Check it out here:

Veronica Scott announced the return of pets in space, with Embrace the Romance: Pets in Space 3 scheduled for release October 9, 2018. The anthology of all new stories will again benefit the Hero Dogs, Inc., charity, which provides service dogs for veterans. The lineup includes SE Smith, Anna Hackett, Ruby Lionsdrake and more...there's a free coloring book offered while you wait for October. Click the link above to learn more!

Bring It Back(list) Feature:
Iron by PG Forte, set in Ireland. She talks about the influence of her Irish grandparents and shares an excerpt.

Saturday, March 17, 2018

Bring It Back(list) Iron

Posted by: PG Forte
Since it's Saint Patrick's Day, I thought I'd feature the Irish-themed book I wrote, Iron.

This book is very special to me since the hero, Gavin, is a blacksmith--as was my grandfather, who was born in Ireland. Obviously, this book has nothing at all to do with my grandparents, both of whom would no doubt be appalled by most of what I write. lol!  But all the same, I swear I could hear my grandmother's voice in my head as I wrote it. The Irish cadence to the dialogue? That's all her.


Nineteenth century Ireland. Blacksmith Gavin O'Malley is a bitter man, with a heart as hard as the iron he forges. He wants his life back--the one that was stolen from him the day his wife died in childbirth--taking their firstborn son with her. 

When Aislinn Deirbhile, an immortal, shape-shifting fae, arrives on his doorstep, he knows he's in luck. For Aislinn can give Gavin everything he's been missing: A devoted-seeming wife in the image of his beloved Mairead, and children who are sure to outlive their father. Now, all he has to do is find a way to keep her--without losing his immortal soul in the process. 

But Aislinn has an agenda of her own. On the run from a vengeful fae lord who's vowed to either make her his or end her existence, she knows the iron that allows Gavin to take her captive will also keep her pursuers at bay. In order to put herself permanently beyond her enemy's reach, however, Aislinn will need something more. She'll need to win Gavin's heart and convince him to willingly part with a piece of the very soul he's trying to save.


Sleep did not find Gavin easily. He lay awake for a long while, studying Aislinn's face in the moonlight and brooding. She’d looked beautiful at dinner tonight, idly rolling her glass between her hands as they talked; the whiskey casting amber colored shadows against the table linens as she explained all the ways in which having a soul might aid her. She’d leaned forward earnestly as she made her case, speaking with all the persuasive passion she possessed.

And, all the while, her long, elegant fingers had cradled the glass as lightly as they might have held a frozen soap bubble, or a crystal ball—something rare and magical. As magical as she herself could be. He’d found himself staring at the glass, unable to look away; thinking of all the ways in which she and it were similar. Both were things of beauty, shiny and bright, fit for a palace; divinely inspired creations of earth and fire and breath commingled.

Both were delicate yet strong; durable unless they were handled carelessly or callously. Or cruelly. Fragile enough that, if they were treated without the respect their beauty and refined natures deserved, they would not just chip or crack, they’d shatter. Irreparably. As had nearly happened to her today in the forge. As could happen again—at any time—if the threat against her could not be finally and definitively eliminated.

She’d caught him off guard when she’d asked for his soul and even though it was clear from all she’d said that she thought it the perfect solution, at the time, he could think of nothing to say. He still could not. What answer  could he give her that he would not end up regretting?

However much he might wish to oblige her, to atone for the hurt he’d caused or repay her for all she’d given him, how could he honor such an impossible request? He had nothing to gain from such an exchange, and everything to lose.

With a soul, Aislinn need no longer answer to anyone. Endowed with free will, she could choose to disregard the geis by which her sister had all but given her to Tiernan. She could refuse Tiernan, and by extension her sister, without repercussion. She could refuse anyone. Even him—though she’d been far too careful to mention that last fact.

And, even if she were to marry Gavin—in gratitude for the gift of his soul, perhaps—what of it? She’d need be no more faithful to her vows than any human spouse. She might choose to leave him at any time and for any reason. Or for no reason at all.

Without a soul, on the other hand, she’d be forced to remain as she was: At his mercy. His to command. Bound by the iron that kept her imprisoned here. Bound by the promises he’d wrung from her today, at the point of death, and by her own words last winter. Bound by the geasa that still threatened her existence. And, perhaps most of all, bound by her abiding fear of being imprisoned in Annwn.

The fact that fear was his greatest ally in this war to keep her was a source of great shame to Gavin. He knew that a good man, one who was generous, chivalrous, disinterested, would be willing to aid her—without hope of recompense—not just in evading her enemies, but in defeating them, once and for all. Such a man would be willing to let her go, if need be, and if it was what she truly wanted; or even give up his life for her. But Gavin doubted he had ever been that good in his life, and he had no wish at all to be that man.

* * * * *

Currently, Iron is only available in paperback.

Friday, March 16, 2018

I Don’t Care What You Call Me As Long As You Try My Books

Posted by: Linda Mooney

The other day I overheard my mother telling a neighbor, “My daughter’s an Arthur.” I think I’ve lost track how many times I’ve heard her and others refer to me as an “Arthur”.
No, Mom. I’m an author.

Last month, at the Healthplex, a person in my exercise class commented, “I hear you’re a writer.”
To which I replied, “Actually, I’m an author.”
“What’s the difference?” she wanted to know.

Another one: “Do you write dirty books?”
“I write sensuous romances, yes. And some sweet.”
“Do they got sex in ‘em?”
“Somewhat, yes.”
“Then they’re dirty books. You write smut.”

As Pepe LePew would say, “Le sigh.” It makes me wonder if other "arthurs" have encountered this sort of thing. After a while, I learned to respond with a smile, and hand them one of my business cards. Let them go check it out for themselves. Heck, I don’t care what they call me as long as it becomes a sale.

* * *
From March 1st - 31st, you can get the ebook for only 99 cents! (Available at this price only on Amazon and my websiteNote: Click BUY EBOOK to get the Nook or PDF version.)

Paranormal/Urban Fantasy Romance
Word Count: 60.9K
e / $9.99 p / $19.95 a

If you were murdered by a stranger, wouldn’t you want the chance to be able to come back and find out who killed you? And why?

J was born blind, but she could "see" things. Her gift has always helped the police find such things as missing persons, serial killers... a ghost or two.

Detective Kiel Stark has worked homicide for eight years, but he has never met this mysterious Seer his fellow officers claim could almost perform miracles. Not until a gruesome triple homicide has his superiors calling in the reserved woman to help with the case.

Now Stark is faced with a double threat. Not only is he finding himself dangerously attracted to the enigmatic beauty, but she could very well discover his own carefully guarded secret—a secret that could bring an end to his career, his way of life, and any future he had hoped to have.

Warning!  Contains disturbing images, the living dead, revenge gone wrong, drug deals gone bad, and two people facing an impossible love without any chance for a future.

Excerpt and buy links.

Thursday, March 15, 2018


Posted by: Dani Harper, AUTHOR

As winter begins to loosen its grip, our thoughts have turned to celebrating Spring. 

The authors at Here Be Magic share their thoughts – and invite you to join in.  We want to hear from YOU, and to make it even more fun, we’re offering a great giveaway!

But first, let’s hear from the HBM authors – and see if you’re thinking some of the same things!

* * * * *

“Spring! I can't wait to throw open windows for fresh air. I'm looking forward to getting out of my sweats into shorts, tank tops and flip flops, but I'm really looking forward to longer warmer days.” Ruth A. Casie,

"What I like most about spring is the fresh green smell of new grass in the sun . . . it never smells quite the same any other time of the year. It's the scent of hope and joy and new possibilities." Shawna Reppert, 


“Getting up at the crack of dawn in the spring has it's advantages. I love to crack the window as the birds wake and hear their excitement for the coming day. Then as the day progresses, there is nothing more refreshing than fully opening the windows and letting in the fresh spring air.” Maureen Bonatch,

 “Since I was a little girl, I’ve always loved the flowers of Spring – the crocuses, iris, tulips and others that bravely poke their heads up, sometimes too soon, before Winter is entirely done with her bluster. The colors of Spring flowers are such a beautiful palette of pastels. I don’t care for lilies, however; they give me migraines!” Veronica Scott,

Winter wiener dogs can soon go for walks!
Photo: Linda Mooney
“With the weather turning warmer, I can finally take my two wiener dogs for walks around the neighborhood. Rusty in particular needs to lose those extra ounces he gained over the winter when they decided it was too cold to be outside for any length of time other than what it took for them to do their business.” Linda Mooney,

 “I can hardly wait for this year’s shipment of baby chicks to arrive. And I’m crossing my fingers that all the tulip bulbs I planted last year actually come up. I’ve never grown them before, but I remember picking them from a neighbor’s front yard when I was five because I thought they were pretty!” Dani Harper,   

 “Every year I look forward to the cherry blossoms. There's something about the way they perfume the air for entire blocks that's almost magical.  But this year, I have something even more magical to look forward to: the arrival of my first grandchild!” PG Forte,   

I love being able to walk without trudging through snow! Also, the fresh scents of new grass, and the very first flower buds gives me such a sense of renewal. Spring re-energizes me!” Cindy Spencer Pape,

"I always look forward to those first spring flowers. Daffodils, crocus, the blooming wild cherry and redbud trees... All make me so happy. Even if it turns cold or snows again, I know the end is in sight." Joely Sue Burkhart,


Tuesday, March 13, 2018

12 Things You Might Not Know About St. Patrick’s Day

Posted by: Ruth A Casie

1. Saint Patrick ~ True Blue
Green became associated with St. Patrick’s Day in the 18th century after it was linked to the Irish independence movement. Saint Patrick was true blue through and through. His color was “Saint Patrick’s blue,” a light shade.

2. Saint Patrick Was British
Patrick may have been famous for introducing Christianity to Ireland in the year 432, but he wasn’t Irish. Patrick’s parents were Roman and lives in the Scotland or Wales.

3. The Irish Take Saint Patrick’s Day Seriously
No doubt about it. Saint Patrick’s Day is a big deal in his adopted country and is a national holiday in both Ireland and Northern Ireland.

4. Everyone in New Yorker City is Irish on Saint Patrick’s Day
New York City’s Saint Patrick’s Day Parade is one of the world’s largest parades. Since 1762, over 250,000 marchers have tramped the six hours up Fifth Avenue on foot. You can see green beer and green bagels along the parade route. If not marching you can catch people ‘the green.’ Some people are a bit more out there than others with green hair, green makeup and let’s not forget the shamrocks tattooed or temporarily tattooed almost anywhere you can imagine.

5. Chicago Does More Than March
New York has a parade, but Chicago has an event all its own. Since 1962 the city has been coloring the Chicago River with green dye to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. It takes 40 tons of dye to get the river to just the right festive shade!

6. It Used to Be a Dry Holiday
In Ireland up until 1970, Saint Patrick’s Day was strictly a religious holiday. Pubs were closed for business on March 17. But it was in 1970 that the day was converted to a national holiday. Since then March 17 has not been dry.

7. Size Doesn’t Count
New York may have its big parade and Chicago its green river, but other cities participate in their own way. From 1999 to 2007, the Dripsey, a cozy Irish village proudly told anyone who would listen that it hosted the Shortest Saint Patrick’s Day Parade in the World, 26 yards between two pubs. Today, Hot Springs, Arkansas claims the title. Its parade runs for 98 feet. Hmmm, to me that may be the distance to the bathroom.

8. Why Shamrocks?
According to Irish legend, Saint Patrick used the three-leafed plant as a metaphor for the Holy Trinity when he was introducing Christianity to Ireland.

9. Why Is It Called Corned Beef?
Corned beef and cabbage, a traditional Saint Patrick’s Day staple, doesn’t have anything to do with the grain corn. Corn refers to the large grains of salt, referred to as corns of salt use to cure the meat. By the way, while Ireland traded heavily in salted meat, the average people couldn’t afford it. It wasn’t until they immigrated to the United States where it was a low-cost meat that they could afford it.

10. Put It On My Tab
All of the Saint Patrick’s Day revelry around the globe is great news for brewers. Recent estimates say the total amount spent on beer for Saint Patrick’s Day celebrations will be about $275 million. And that’s before tips to pubs’ bartenders.

11. First You Say Its Blue Not Green and Now You Say Its Maewyn Not Patrick
Saint Patrick was born either in Scotland or Wales to Roman parents in 385 AD. His birth name was Maewyn Succat. He changed his name to Patricius after becoming a priest.

12. The Lingo Makes Sense
You can’t attend a Saint Patrick’s Day event without hearing “Erin go Bragh.” What’s the phrase mean? It’s a corruption of the Irish Éirinn go Brách, which means roughly “Ireland Forever.”

BONUS: But the Leprechaun Economy Is Thriving
Another little-known fact from Irish lore: Leprechauns earned the gold they guard. According to legend, leprechauns spend their days making and mending shoes. Hmmmm… I thought that story, the Elves and the Shoemaker was from the imagination of the Brothers Grimm.

Pot Of Gold image
St Patricks Day Pictures

May the dreams you hold dearest be those which some true and the kindness you spread keep returning to you! Happy Saint Patrick's Days!

Monday, March 12, 2018

Here Be News

Posted by: Veronica Scott
New Releases:

Other News:

Bring It Back(list) Feature:
Veronica Scott shared an excerpt from her award winning novel Wreck of the Nebula Dream, loosely based on the sinking of Titanic, but set in the far future on a luxury spaceliner.

Sales & Promos:

Now through March 31, and only on Amazon, Steam & Sorcery, the best-selling and award winning begining of Cindy Spencer Pape's Gaslight Chronicles steampunk series, is on sale for half price!

Saturday, March 10, 2018


Posted by: Veronica Scott

We're about a month away from the 106th anniversary of the Titanic sinking, so it seems like a good time for me to mention my award winning scifi action adventure novel loosely based on that event. My book Wreck of the Nebula Dream was set on a luxury spaceliner in the far future, however.

Here's the plot for Wreck:

Traveling unexpectedly aboard the luxury liner Nebula Dream on its maiden voyage across the galaxy, Sectors Special Forces Captain Nick Jameson is ready for ten relaxing days, and hoping to forget his last disastrous mission behind enemy lines. He figures he’ll gamble at the casino, take in the shows, maybe even have a shipboard fling with Mara Lyrae, the beautiful but reserved businesswoman he meets.

All his plans vaporize when the ship suffers a wreck of Titanic proportions. Captain and crew abandon ship, leaving the 8000 passengers stranded without enough lifeboats and drifting unarmed in enemy territory. Aided by Mara, Nick must find a way off the doomed ship for himself and several other innocent people before deadly enemy forces reach them or the ship’s malfunctioning engines finish ticking down to self destruction.

But can Nick conquer the demons from his past that tell him he’ll fail these innocent people just as he failed to save his Special Forces team? Will he outpace his own doubts to win this vital race against time?

The excerpt, which is right after Nick is awakened in the middle of the night as the ship apparently strikes something:

The Ship announced something else but cut off in midword. There was an unpleasant buzzing.

Captain Bonlors appeared again, but his image floated in the center of the cabin, not saying anything.

Nick stared at this apparition with cold anger, having no desire to hear another set of worthless platitudes. He wheeled to return to the corridor and as he did so, the lights dimmed dramatically. Emergency sirens began shrieking. Nick was unable to hear himself think over the din. Stalking through the mute image of the captain, he keyed the door.

The portal opened sluggishly. He shoved past once there was enough space for his broad shoulders. Back pressed against the half-open door, he stood for a moment, assessing the current situation in the corridor. It now added up to pandemonium in any language. The alarms were continuing to blare, inciting some passengers to panic and immobilizing others. A prerecorded voice urged calm, in flat, female tones, speaking in a rapid rotation of Basic and the five other primary Sector languages.

No one was paying the slightest attention. People ran in both directions, shoving past each other. Some were half dressed, others were burdened with luggage. There were no crew members at all.

Frowning, he waded into the crowd, going to the left and staying as close to the wall as he could. Since a Special Forces team’s survival depended on familiarity with all aspects of their environment, Nick had noted the location of the nearest lifeboat portal relative to his cabin upon arrival the first day. Now he worked his way aft to get there.

With supreme – if sadly misplaced – confidence, the captain of the Nebula Dream had not seen fit to order a lifeboat drill in the first few days of the cruise, not even after the middle of the night engine anomaly. Lack of a drill, which was mandatory per the Interstellar Commerce Commission regulations, was adding to the panic, Nick had no doubt. Most had probably not even paid attention to the short holo on safety the Ship played on first entry in each cabin. Now the civilians were clueless, desperate, and those charged with responsibility for their safety were nowhere to be seen.

As he came up to the lifeboat portal, Nick was astounded to see the light flashing red, indicating the LB had been launched.  What the fuck? There couldn’t possibly have been time since the sirens came on to fully load and deploy a boat, even assuming a full complement of SMT crew had been standing by, waiting to usher passengers on board.

Continuing down the corridor, Nick wondered who took the LB, and how many people had managed to escape with it. He suspected he wouldn’t like the answers much, but he intended to find out, after this was all over. For an event of this magnitude, an ICC investigatory hearing was a foregone conclusion.

The crowd increased in size, and the screams and yells became more specific, the closer he got to the next LB davit. Since Nick was a tall man, he could see over the heads of most of the crowd. Despite the fact the alarms had been raging for a good five minutes standard now, he could see the indicator light was green; this LB had not even been unlocked.

“No one’s boarded yet?” he said, half to himself.

“Two idiots up there, fighting over who gets on first, and neither one has a clue how to open the damn thing.” A stout woman in a garish pink and orange robe spun to face him, her voice disgusted but shaking, tears glistening in her eyes. “They wouldn’t listen, not to me or anyone. I watched the safety holo my first day on board, so I know how to open the portal, but would they let me try? No, they would not. I got out of the way when they started throwing punches.”

Nick wished for a squad of Space Marines or even one other Special Forces operator.  I could sort this out and get people loading. There was no time to waste. Disasters in space tended to be abrupt, over with in a violent moment. Whatever had happened to the Nebula Dream, it was nothing short of amazing they weren’t all dead already. Can’t push luck too far.

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