For Fairest,
1) iTunes (eBook)
2) Amazon (Kindle version or paperback)
3) Barnes & Noble (Nook Book, paperback) or in-store paperback print-on-demand
4) Eternal Press (all eBook formats, pdf, paperback)
BLURB:
Skye Daniels knows it isn’t wise to wander alone
in the Big Easy, but she hopes the trip will give her a break from the teasing
she endures at school and time to sort her feelings for playboy Whit Hastings
and his best friend Linc Moore. When a stranger tries to grab her outside the
House of Blues, Skye runs for her life and finds refuge with a group of
orphans. She can’t reach her father, and not knowing where else to turn, Skye
calls on Linc to help her find out who wants her dead and why.
NOTE to READERS,
Thank you so much for your patronage of my novel. If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review of it on the site where you purchased it or on Good Reads. Reviews matter to me, and I appreciate your time and your opinion.
~Beth
Coming Soon: information on where to get Wild Rosegarten, the first book in my vampire slayer series!
Monday, August 25, 2014
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Elemental
The golems – stone, steel,
and fire – came for him, and he met them.
He swept over the plains,
his toes hovering just above the dry landscape.
Arms pinwheeling, slashing, jabbing.
With one swing of his silvery gray arm, he bashed a rocky head to
dust. At the contact, veins, inset in
all his visible flesh, glowed and absorbed the released spirit of his
enemy.
His eyes narrowed, and he
flung himself toward a flaming foe. Arms
grabbing fire, singeing for a moment, then a hiss of steam. The golem was no more, and he throbbed with
light.
Pulses of blue burst from
him, and steel, wrenched and mangled, fell empty and lifeless. With a bellow, he pumped the energy he
collected into a ball around himself and, with a final shout, sent it out so
that it razed the very earth and the evil that walked it.
I felt his arms as they
encircled my waist from behind. I heard
him smell my hair. I closed my eyes and
a tear slid down my cheek. He survived. He returned.
“I want to give you
something,” he said as he turned me in his arms and kissed me softly.
His eyes, the same deep
greenish-blue as an angry sea, looked serious for a moment before he turned
them on his left forearm. As he ran a
finger down a vein, it lit softly. He
dug his finger under it and tugged until it broke.
At my sharp intake of
breath, he only smiled and snapped off a small section of the vein. From it, he formed a ring, which shone
blindingly for a moment and then dulled to a soft, fuzzy glow.
As he slid the ring onto my
finger, he said, “I challenge anyone who says an Elemental cannot love.” He kissed the ring and then me. “This ring of icy pure good will protect you
and can be wielded like any weapon.”
“Then have a symbol of my
love for you,” I said and hurriedly yanked out a lock of hair.
From the hair, I wove an
intricate braid. Once I connected the
ends, the ring shrieked and formed a colorful whorl that I slid onto his
finger. “Wear my ring of chaos and use
it to smite those who would do you harm.”
Cheeks wet and lips
trembling, we held onto all we had left in our world – each other.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Quickie: Whiskey Kiss
I stood before the floor to
ceiling bookshelves, running my fingers over leather-bound editions and
watching the gold letters flash with the passage of ceiling fan blades. He had quite a collection, especially for a
man his age. Especial and in my heart,
set apart and above, by my love for him and his mind.
“What are you doing in
here?” he asked.
I turned to find him
gesturing to me with the fifth of Beam gripped in his left hand, his eyes heavy
from having drunk half its contents. I
grinned. “Looking at your books, of
course.”
“I read them all, but you
would know that. Have you read them?”
“I do know and most,” I said.
Something bluesy, sweet, and
over-played hung in the air, Wonderful Tonight by Clapton. I listened for a moment, swaying in my own
vodka-induced tipsy. No one plays guitar
like Clapton. Not that he’s the best,
just, he’s a master of that style. So it
seemed as the notes slipped in my ears and curled up to nest in my heart.
“Dance with me, Shelley.”
His request, no demand, sped my pulse. We met at the end of the bed, arms coming around eager bodies to hold and mold until the zippers of our blue jeans scraped. Eyes so dark, the keepers of depths and universes, held mine, challenged mine.
His request, no demand, sped my pulse. We met at the end of the bed, arms coming around eager bodies to hold and mold until the zippers of our blue jeans scraped. Eyes so dark, the keepers of depths and universes, held mine, challenged mine.
“Kiss me,” I whispered as I
gripped his sleeves and pulled until his chest flattened my breasts.
I watched his lashes lace to conceal his eyes as his lips met mine. Simple pressure, lips to lips. Tentative, seeking, but I nipped his lower lip. His eyes flashed open as he tilted his head. Mouths open, now, tongues bumping then slipping past one another, oh, excuse me, pardon me, yes, see, there’s room for both of us to venture here. My vodka mixed with his whiskey. The longing for exploration, the longing to be wanted as much as I wanted made themselves known in the urgency of my sighs and the strength with which I dug my fingers into his arms. The remnants of alcohol burned my eyes and nose as needs burned much, much lower.
I watched his lashes lace to conceal his eyes as his lips met mine. Simple pressure, lips to lips. Tentative, seeking, but I nipped his lower lip. His eyes flashed open as he tilted his head. Mouths open, now, tongues bumping then slipping past one another, oh, excuse me, pardon me, yes, see, there’s room for both of us to venture here. My vodka mixed with his whiskey. The longing for exploration, the longing to be wanted as much as I wanted made themselves known in the urgency of my sighs and the strength with which I dug my fingers into his arms. The remnants of alcohol burned my eyes and nose as needs burned much, much lower.
Interruption, as quick and
brutal as a needle across a record. The
kiss ended, but he still held me for a moment.
A mistake – I could see the thought in his eyes and hated it. Then, he left me, under the ceiling fan, with
nothing but the lingering warmth from where his body touched mine.
For two weeks, a bruise on
my lower back reminded me of how he pressed the bottle against me while he held
me. After it faded, the bruise on my
heart took over the job.
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