Saturday Excerpt & Sexcerpt – Twice Lost by Jennifer Field

CAUTION – Very Graphic scenes ahead.   First part in Underworld and not for the squemish  and the second sexually detailed.   Please be aware before  reading. ~Tina

TWICE LOST

Book 1 Harbinger Series.

FullSizeRender (005)The Underworld

The rain and stench of rotting flesh permeated the Harbinger’s senses.  He dragged his victim through the massive gate leading to the ferry. The man, whose name he didn’t care to learn, was another fine upstanding citizen of the human race: child molester, rapist, murderer. This fate was almost too kind for him.

The man kicked and screamed obscenities at the large winged creature that held him. “Where are you taking me, you ugly fucking beast?” The screaming man looked around and the scene he saw was something out of a horror movie. Several massive winged creatures dragged both men and women to the edge of river, unfazed by their victim’s screams or cries for help. Each stood sentinel, waiting for their turn to board the ferry.

The mountains and terrain were charred black. No life grew here; no sunlight penetrated the sky above that swirled with red and black clouds unlike any he had ever seen. The lightning marred the landscape, setting fire to brittle, lifeless trees. He held back gagging as the smell of burning flesh overwhelmed him.

“I never did anything, bring me back.” He struggled against the thick chain wrapped around his neck, pulling with all his might; yet, unable to budge the beast that dragged him further into this nightmare.

The Harbinger lifted the man by the thick chain, cutting off his supply of putrid air; his black claws dripping with blood from where he had reached into the man’s chest, pulling out his soul to drag it to hell.

The man stared into eyes that were solid black pools, devoid of any feeling. “I am not your judge, nor your jury.” The creature pulled him closer, revealing his massive fangs. “But, I have seen what you have done. Death is too lenient for you.” The creature flared its black wings and let out an unearthly growl.

Urine ran down the man’s leg and onto the Harbinger’s booted foot. He tossed the man back down onto the ground, still holding tight to the chain. He heard the distinct crunch of breaking bone as the man’s body hit the ground in the most unnatural of positions.

A smile curled along the Harbinger’s lips, the soul had corporeal substance in the underworld. More importantly, it felt pain, but would not die. This man would beg for a death that would never come. Each day would bring endless pain and suffering, no other existence waited for him.

“You have no right to bring me here, I repented!” The man’s screams were one among many as the souls of the unrighteous waited to cross one of the five rivers.

“Did your victims beg? Did you show them any mercy?” His clawed hand came down over the man’s skull and inundated his mind with images from his young, helpless victims. Flashes of an innocent face stricken with fear, a mother’s grieving heart as she identified her child’s broken, lifeless body.

“Stop please, I repent, I repent! I’m sorry for everything I have ever done. Please, I repent my sins.” The man shook with such fear, and broke into prayer. “The lord is my Shepherd…”

The creature looked down at him as he heaved him closer to the river’s edge. “There is no God that will save your soul now, it belongs to me. And, my payment lies beyond the river.”  He pointed across the river to their destination.

The man watched as creature after hideous creature approached the ferry with their victim dragging behind. The ferryman held out his hand for payment to cross. The man watched as the creature held out its hand, revealing a coin that floated just above its palm. The ferryman took the coin and turned it back and forth, inspecting it, testing its weight. When he was satisfied, he nodded his head and the creature and victim entered the ferry.

This was repeated as several of the creatures and their charges entered the ferry. His creature stood, waiting, as the boat drifted into the mists of the river.

“Why did we not board the boat? There was clearly room left.”

The creature, again, lifted the chain and looked into the man’s eyes as he watched him struggle for breath. His eyes began to bulge and his face puffed out in bright crimson. “Those people still have hope. You, do not. Our destination lies elsewhere.”

The creature dragged him along the river’s sulfur coated banks. He looked in and saw that the water was full of bloated bodies that still wriggled with pain, their skin bursting open and oozing a black liquid.

“Where is our boat?” Though he tried to sound as if he were the one in charge, the man’s voice rattled with fear. He picked up a stone within his grasp and threw it at the Harbinger’s head, hitting him square in the back of his skull.

The Harbinger swung around, grabbing the man by the throat and pinning him against the dead trunk of a tree. His features seemed much more demon-like now that he was truly angry. His cheekbones jutted out at an extreme angle, his horns curled back along his bald head, and his fangs protruded from his mouth.

A growl emanated from him as he sniffed at the air, scenting nothing but the man’s fear. “Perhaps you are unaware of the severity of your predicament, human.” He spoke with ultimate disdain for the man. His claws began to penetrate the struggling man’s throat, small drops of blood running down his neck and arm, dripping onto the ground.

“You are the lowest form of vermin down here. You have no idea what true torture is.” A grub-like creature crawled from the petrified bark of the tree. Its mouth was rows upon rows of rotating teeth. It was attracted to the blood that dripped down. He watched in horror as its head began to burrow into his arm, its body slowly disappearing under his flesh. The man screamed as the creature ate its way up his arm, under his skin.

The grub continued to work its way up the man’s arm, its white body covered in an acidic slime causing the skin above it to bubble. The Harbinger held the bug under his skin and sweat ran down the man’s face, the stench of feces permeating the air.

“Your skin will be flayed from your body, your eyes will be gouged out, and every orifice you have will be violated by creatures so hideous, your nightmares couldn’t conjure them.” The Harbinger continued his detailed description of what the man’s eternity would be like, projecting the images into the man’s thoughts as he spoke. “Then, finally, when you think you can’t take another minute, your body will be healed, your pain will be gone, and the process will start again.”

The Harbinger let go of the man and he slumped down the tree trunk to the burnt ground. Tears and uncontrollable sobs left the man. Covered in his own waste, the man crawled to the massive creature that stood in front of him and groveled at his feet.

“What can I do? Please, tell me what I have to do.”  His words were barely understandable between his sobbing and screaming as the grub ate its way out of the man’s neck and dropped to the ground, having gorged itself.

The Harbinger looked down at his palm that now had a light glow to it. The coin that usually sat as a tattoo now hovered just above his palm. It’s distinct and unique emblem of a skull surrounded by thorns clearly evident.

He looked down at the man groveling at his feet. “Our ride approaches.” He grabbed the end of the chain and hauled it over his massive shoulder, allowing the man to dangle and scream behind him as he made his way to the dock.

The Harbinger walked toward the ferry, holding out his hand. Charon took the coin and nodded for him and his charge to board. No other passengers boarded this ferry.

“Why do no others board?” The man had to know why he was the only passenger aboard this ferry.

The creature put the man down and let go of the chain, knowing that if the man decided to jump into the river, his fate would be the same as the other bloated bodies that drowned for eternity. A far better fate than this man deserved, but would allow no option for payment.

The ferry drifted slowly down the river instead of across as the other boats had done. Again, the man questioned his fate. “Why does this boat not cross the river? Surely this is the famed River Styx. My doomed fate must await me on the other side.”

The Harbinger looked down at the man. “Your fate does not lie on the other side of the River Styx. We will cross Phlegethon, the river of fire.” He pointed down the river to a fiery orange glow just beyond the horizon.

“And, what if I jumped and swam to freedom? Wouldn’t I then be allowed a second judgment, having made it to shore?” The man looked at the shore line a mere twenty or thirty feet from the boats edge. Surely he could make it.

The massive man-creature approached him, grabbing him by the wrist. “You are more than welcome to try.” He lowered the man’s hand into the black water of river.

Pain shot up the man’s arm as he watched his skin then meaty tissue melt from his hand, leaving only bone. His bloodcurdling scream did nothing to stop the creature from lowering his arm further into the muck. The black water seemed to grab onto his arm and crawl up to his elbow, blood gushing into the water.

The creature released the man’s arm and looked at his own hand that was unaffected. The man clutched his arm, now nothing more than bone and dangling tendons. “You are more than welcome to swim.” The Harbinger laughed out as he spoke.

At the sight, the man vomited bile over the side of the boat. Curling his knees against his chest, he watched as the fiery glow grew closer, the stench of sulfur and rot overwhelming him once more.

As the ferry drifted down the River Styx and slowly began its turn onto the River Phlegethon, the black, murky water slowly changed. It smelled of petroleum and the surface burned around the boat.  The deeper the boat traveled, the hotter and higher the flames became.

The man peered over the side, straining to see past the inferno that burned before him. He was sure that the flames would consume the boat before they reached their destination. Yet, the ferry drifted through them, unaffected.

The Harbinger stood as still as death, looking out past the flames. His wings stretched out from his massive back, spanning across the width of the boat, the tips now singed from the flames.

As the boat glided through the river of fire toward its final destination, the man had to know what this creature was that held him. “Are you death? The grim reaper? The devil?”

Black eyes immediately met his. “For you, I am all those things and more. Your very soul now belongs to me and it is mine to do with as I see fit.” The demon slowly turned back to look at the approaching shore.

“Then you can be bargained with, I would presume.”

No matter their background, each soul he brought across Phlegethon thought that bargaining would gain them passage to another, better place. In the countless millennia that he had been taking souls across, no bargain was ever worth consideration, but all tried.

Again, the creature turned to face the man. This time, his eyes were no longer the black, endless pools that had faced him before. They were now as blue and clear as a summer’s sky. “I have riches beyond your wildest dreams, what could you ever have that I would want?”

The ferry hit the shore with a clank as the ferryman wrapped the chain around a post. At a second glance, it was not a post at all, but a pillar of skulls and bones stacked at the river’s edge.

The creature grabbed the chain that was around the man’s neck and pulled him to his shaky feet. Fear overcame him and the man’s legs refused to move, his muscles freezing in protest. With a tug of the chain, the man lunged forward, tripping over his own feet into the back of the creature that held him.

This new land made the place they had just come from look like a paradise. The sky was no longer a swirl of black and red, but an ominous gray-green that kissed the molten landscape; fire and stone encompassing his line of vision. The creature pulled him toward two massive gates made of human bone. The screams of pain and despair could be heard beyond the gate.

The man pulled on his chain, begging the hell spawn to stop his forward trek. “Please, again, I beg you. I can give you something no one else can. All I ask is that you let me go here. I’ll make my way on my own.”

The gate and the payment for this soul laid within reach. Yet, something in this human’s voice made him pause. He had been offered everything and anything to bring a soul back, but never had he been asked to just let a soul go. Here at the gate of Nephtal, of all places.

“Why would you have me just let you go? You have crossed over the river of fire, there is no way back. All hope for you is gone.”

“My soul is damned, I know that. But, in there…” he nods his head toward the tall gates, “I won’t be able to even attempt to make up for the sins I have committed.”

The creature pulled the chain, dragging the man’s face up to his own. “There is no do over, your time has come. Your soul has been damned to this place.”

He continued his walk to the massive bone gate, dragging the man behind him; kicking, screaming, and begging to be set free.

Finally reaching the gate, a creature of massive proportions stepped out, pushing the immense gate open. This new monster, an odd combination of wild boar and almost human, stood twice the height of the one who dragged him across the river.

Its skin was black and scaled, appearing almost grey with the dirt caked into his features. Greenish pus oozed from welts around its wrists, ankles, and neck where huge shackles bound the creature to the gate.

“Please, there’s a girl I know you would be interested in.”  The man tried to dig his heels into the burnt and smoking ground.

The demon stopped, looked at the man he had chained, and laughed. “A woman? You expect me to let you go by offering me a woman?” He laughed once more,  condescendingly, and continued through the gate.

The Harbinger dragged the man passed the gatekeeper to a small tent just on the opposite side and pulled him past the threshold. Silently, the soul wondered what creature he would see next. He expected a cloven footed devil or another winged beast, but what sat on the other side of a golden desk was neither of those things.

Leaning casually back in the chair with her perfect, black, stiletto heels crossed on the top of the impressive gold desk was a woman, her make-up and features model perfect. Her long, blonde hair was neatly pulled back in a high ponytail.

She wore a white, button-down shirt that barely closed over her ample breasts and a black pencil skirt. The man eyed the woman and followed the lean curve of her legs to her thigh, revealing the lace at the top of her thigh-high, silk stockings.

She looked like an angel in the otherwise hellish nightmare. She could have been his angel sent from heaven to save his damned soul. But, the fiery glint in her deep brown eyes led him to believe she was anything but the angel he saw seated before him.

She stood as they walked in, giving the creature that dragged his chain a devilish and familiar smile.

“Hello, Harbinger.” Her voice was sultry and oozed sex.

The Harbinger slipped the end of the chain over a six foot tall spike in the ground. “Hello, Pesta. Where’s my payment?”

Pesta tossed a sack of gold onto her desk, continuing to eye the Harbinger that stood in front of her. He reached for the sack of gold but was intercepted by her hand running up the length of his muscular, tattooed arm.

“I’m sure you’ve had a long, hard journey, wouldn’t you rather something a bit softer and hotter than gold to soothe your weary bones? The offer of my bed isn’t something I give to just any…man.” She ran her tongue over her perfect, red, glossy lips.

“I’ve told you before, Pesta, I never mix business with pleasure.”  With that, he picked up his bag of gold and turned to leave.

The man he had brought in stepped in front of him, a feeble attempt to block his path. The Harbinger raised his arm to backhand the man out of his way.

The man quickly whispered into the Harbinger’s ear words he never thought he would hear—an offer too good to turn down.

“What’s your name human?”

“It was Laird.”

With his arm poised to strike, he instead flicked the chain off of the spike, leaving the man free to escape into an eternity of pain. The man stood still for a heartbeat, staring into the Harbinger’s still blue eyes.  “Well, Laird, I would run if I were you, she’s not as angelic as she looks.”

The Harbinger casually walked out of the tent, past the gate, and back to the ferry, holding out the coin that floated above his hand to Charon. As the ferry drifted back toward the River Styx, he heard Pesta screaming for someone to stop the man that now ran past the boned gate and into the fiery landscape.

Timoteus folded his wings against his back and relaxed himself into the ferry as it floated back through the fiery river. He reflected on what that man had said. A female Harbinger had never existed, yet he was intrigued by his statement. “Her name is Jenna, she’s one of you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jenna and Kyle had driven up to the lookout section of Harvest Hill to have sex. Kyle had placed an ad on Craigslist, an online invitation stating that if anyone wanted to watch them, they could. It was the same ad they had run many times in the past: Fun couple seeks audience for sexual encounter. Every week, they changed the place and time and always seemed to have an audience. Tonight wasn’t any different.

They had been running the “voyeur” ad for several months. During that time, they had gotten quite a following. They didn’t know any of their names, but had come up with descriptions for the regulars that came weekly. It was mostly men that came to watch them, sometimes couples seeking a bit of “live porn” before going home to their mundane sex lives. Jenna had noticed that the couples who did come to watch, usually didn’t come back. She figured it was because the women were mostly frumpy, non-adventurous types who had probably been talked into watching by overeager lovers. And, once their boyfriends or husbands saw Jenna being fucked, it was going to be hard for them to be anywhere near as sexy. At least, that’s what she liked to think.

The sun was just setting and the warmth from the sunny September day was fading quickly. The air was chilly, but it was always chilly in Maine at night this time of year. Jenna looked out the window and recognized several of the cars parked there, waiting for the show to start. She knew that most of the men would already be in their cars starting to stroke their cocks just thinking about watching her getting fucked.

It had originally been her fantasy that had Kyle putting the “invite” out on Craigslist. She wanted to be watched; fantasized about strangers beating off to her. The first time they had done it was about six months ago and only a few people had shown up. Since then, they had become very popular. She had even noticed a few more affluent men coming by to watch. Jenna knew of at least one lawyer and the Chief of Police that came quite often, literally. Kyle had already moved into the back seat of the SUV and taken off his clothes.

“Jenna, you gonna come back here so I can lick that pussy of yours and give these guys a nice show? ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t think they came to watch me jerk off.” His tone was a bit too curt for her liking. She really was beginning to get sick of this routine. That’s what it had become, a routine. Sure it was kinky as hell, but a routine was a routine just the same.

Jenna closed her eyes for a moment and got into character. After all, this was an act. She wanted to give these guys a great show, wanted them thinking of her even when they were alone jerking off. Or, better yet, thinking of her when they went home to their wives or girlfriends.

She took her tank top off, the cool breeze brushing over her exposed nipples. They had opened all the windows of the SUV and the moon roof, letting the cool, crisp, Maine night wash over them. She heard several doors shut and watched as the men walked over, securing the best spots with the most visual vantage points. She could feel that she was already wet, knowing she would be watched while Kyle fucked her. She wiggled out of her skirt and climbed into the back seat where Kyle waited.

He sat in the middle of the seat, naked, stroking his cock. “I can’t wait to taste you, I love how wet this gets you.” She practically had to roll her eyes at the theatrics of it all.

While she tried to relax and get into her sexual mode, she couldn’t help but feel that something was very off. She felt as if every one of her senses was on high alert. It’s nothing, she told herself, over and over again. But, she just couldn’t seem to shake the uncomfortable feeling. She briefly scanned the parking lot, nothing out of the ordinary.

Jenna straddled his legs and leaned back, her body resting in between the passenger and driver seats. “I’m so wet.” Her fingers moved over her clit and into the folds of her sex. She was slick with desire. She lifted her finger to Kyle’s mouth.

He sucked her finger, tasting her. “You taste so good.”

“I need to lick you, taste how wet you are.” The move to get her on her back was almost a well-practiced routine, just as everything else was.  Jenna’s head was against the door and her legs were spread open so everyone watching could see just how wet she was. Kyle’s thumb stroked her clit and two fingers found her tight opening, moving in and out. She gasped in a breath and tilted her hips, allowing his fingers to move deeper.

Kyle’s mouth came down onto her clit and the sensation made her gasp again. Jenna’s hands rubbed her breasts, squeezing her hard nipples. “I can smell your pussy. It smells so good. When are you gonna let me fuck you?” It wasn’t unusual for the audience to comment. Jenna never worried about any of them acting on their comments, no matter how graphic or outlandish they were. She didn’t worry for two reasons; one, the Glock 9mm that Kyle kept under the front seat of the truck, and, two, she had her cell ready on 911, all she had to do was press send.

“I’d love for you to fuck me. Is your cock big? Let me watch you stroke it.” Her voice was breathy and she knew she was going to cum from Kyle licking her as his fingers continued their relentless motion.

She watched as the guy at the passenger side window moved so she could see him stroking his cock. It was a pretty pathetic piece of equipment compared to Kyle’s, but she’d humor him. She could feel her own orgasm building, her fingers dug into the seat as she came hard. Kyle’s tongue and fingers continued, his motions perfectly synchronized as her hips bucked and grinded against his mouth. When Kyle finally released her from her pleasured torture, his mouth and chin dripped with her desire.

He ran his hand over his mouth, wiping away most of her wetness, but she could still see his chin glistening with her cum. She sat up and licked it off, completely forgetting about the guy jerking off at the passenger side window.

Jenna straddled Kyle again and leaned back. Kyle took his cock in his hand and ran the head along Jenna’s wet folds.

With the thick head of his cock poised at her opening, all she needed to do was tilt her hips. She was so slick and wet, his cock just slid into her. Letting out a moan of pleasure, she started to move her hips, riding his cock. Grabbing onto the back-seat headrests to get more leverage, she sat up, burying his entire cock into her and grinding her clit against his pelvis. Routine or not, she loved sex with this man.

Every window had a face looking in. She could hear them stroking their cocks, their slight moans, and “Oh yeah, fuck her” comments.

A hand came in the window and stroked her breast, squeezing it almost painfully. “Fuck her from behind so she can suck my cock.”  His voice was deep and sexy. Jenna looked over and saw that it was not only one of the regular onlookers, but Benneit Colebrook.

Benneit, an old acquaintance of Kyle’s, was a well-known lawyer who now only practiced on occasion due to a lucrative art dealing business he’d inherited from his father. He was quite easy on the eyes and extremely rich, in his mid to late thirties. All sorts came out at night to watch.

Kyle kissed up her neck and whispered in her ear, “Do you want to suck his cock while I fuck you from behind?” Kyle would always ask her if it was something she wanted to do. If she said yes, great. If she said no, sorry buddy, maybe next time. Jenna wondered for a moment if Kyle was even aware of who was at the window. He had to be. If she knew, he must.

She didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah, I’ll suck your cock.”

Kyle unlocked the passenger side door and opened it so that Benneit could stand in the door. His cock was already out and hard. Jenna moved off Kyle’s lap and onto her knees so Kyle could fuck her from behind. Never easy to do, but they made it work. She tossed her long, black hair to the side and looked up at Ben with her most innocent smile before taking his cock in her hand and licking the salty, wet tip.

She felt Kyle enter her from behind just as she took Ben’s entire length into her mouth. His hands fisted her hair and helped move his thick cock in and out of her mouth. Kyle’s hands bruised her hips as he pounded into her.

“Suck his cock, you’re such a little fucking slut,” Kyle said, fucking her harder.  “Make him come. You want to taste his cum, don’t you?” His hand came down hard against her ass and then again, harder.

All Jenna could do was moan a yes. She could feel the hands in her hair get tighter as Ben’s body started to go rigid. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Jenna sucked harder. She was so hot and turned on, her pussy was dripping as Kyle fucked her. She cupped Ben’s balls and gave them a gentle squeeze. She really wanted him to come.

Kyle looked up at Ben and remembered their days in college when Ben had been his roommate. It wasn’t unusual for them to share women, they had probably fucked a hundred women together while they were in school. Kyle gripped Jenna’s ass and slammed his cock into her tight pussy and Ben gave him a familiar chin raise while he watched Jenna suck him off.

Kyle took the anger he was feeling for Ben out on Jenna as he pounded into her, harder and harder. Ben wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. For only a brief moment, he felt a twinge of regret for the plan he had in store for her. But, the ends would indeed justify the means in his estimation.

Ben’s hands fisted her hair and his cock swelled. She felt the hot, salty liquid burst into her mouth. She continued to suck until his body finished its release and he could barely stand.  She flipped her head up to look at him and licked her lips. He stepped away and closed the door without so much as a word.

“Let me ride you till you come in me.” Jenna’s voice was breathy and rattled with desire.

Kyle pulled out of her and moved to sit on the seat. “Come on, baby, ride me till I fill you.”

He kissed her hard. Tasting another man’s cum on her lips, knowing how much she was getting off on this night, nearly had him coming.

The truck was still surrounded by men watching them, all in various stages self-pleasure.

She looked past them and spotted her favorite onlooker.  He looked to be in his mid-thirties, shaved, bald head with dark features, and heavily tattooed.

She had noticed him a few months ago watching them from his car that he had parked next to theirs. He had looked as if he had been studying her. She knew he looked dangerous, but, for whatever reason, Jenna had no fear of him. Now, he was leaning against one of the cars, arms crossed, looking directly at her, staring her down.

Jenna leaned in to whisper in Kyle’s ear, “He’s here, the tattooed guy.” Her hips were still grinding on Kyle’s cock.

“I want him to fuck you so bad, would you like that? Have him buried deep in you?” Kyle could have cared less who the guy was and, truly, he didn’t even know who she was talking about. Yeah, he knew she had some mild obsession with this tattooed guy, but tonight was not going to be his night.

Jenna had to think about what Kyle had said. While she would say yes, she wanted him to fuck her, her answer was no. Oh, he was attractive in a dangerous kinda way, but nothing in her stirred with desire for the man. Nothing but curiosity.

Jenna’s hips moved faster, her hands gripping the back seat. Kyle’s hands slid around to grab her ass and pulled her toward him.

“Ah, make me come, baby.”

She could feel his cock swelling as her own climax began to peak. She looked out the window and stared at the tattooed man standing about two cars away.

As she rode Kyle faster, her stare was fixed on the stranger. “Oh yeah, fuck me. I want to feel you come in me.” The words were meant for Kyle to hear, but Jenna spoke them to the man leaning against the car. Kyle grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against his chest as he came. She threw her head back as her own climax hit her. She could feel Kyle’s cock pulse as he spilled his release into her tightness.

Sweat covered both of them and their breathing was heavy. Their audience slowly wandered back to their own cars. The show was over for tonight, at least for them. Jenna’s evening was just beginning.

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Saturday Sexcerpt – Bella and the Beast by Izzy Szyn

BATB Cover (002)

She’d just stopped at a door when something wrapped itself around her ankle. Looking down, she saw a vine with thorns winding its way up her leg. Holy shit, Bella tried pulling at the vine, but it tightened around her leg even more.

Pressing herself against a wall, another vine wrapped itself around her stomach. Holding her in place.  She tried to scream, but the vine was so tight she couldn’t get anything out.

“Bella, what are you doing here?” Ms. Anna came upon her.

“I was looking for you.”

“Do you remember what I said about this part of the house?” Ms. Anna asked.

“Yes,” Bella answered, “not to enter it. But I wanted…”

“Silence,” Ms. Anna ordered. “There isn’t an excuse for disobeying my orders. Now, what should your punishment be? Vines, release her.”

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About the Author:

 New York Times Bestselling Author Izzy Szyn was born in May of 2014 when a friend dared her to write. Born and raised in Detroit, Mi. Izzy now lives in Oklahoma City with her furchild Misty, the friendliest Chihuahua/Terrier you will ever meet. Currently works in a call center, where she writes in between phone calls.

Izzy loves to keep in touch with her readers. Email her at izzyszyn@gmail.com.

Find her on Facebook 🙂 https://www.facebook.com/Izzy-Szyn-379714942215154/timeline/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/izzySzyn

Blog: https://izzyszyn.wordpress.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13836241.Izzy_Szyn

Google Plus link: https://plus.google.com/100905614042668276073

Author Spotlight-Caris Roane

The September $.99 Flame Series TourCaris Roane’s September $.99 Flame Series

BLOOD FLAME and AMETHYST FLAME

The Flame Series, Books #1 and #2

Caris is giving away A Red Wire-Wrapped PNR Bracelet (International Winner Receives Gift Card) and A $25 Amazon Gift Card to randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.

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The “Wow” Prize:Wow giveaway image

Just leave a comment for a chance to win!

 Caris Roane here and I’m so glad you’re touring with me. As a bonus, I’m giving away a Reader Care Package to one lucky winner just for leaving a comment on any or all of the blogs on my tour. What’s in the Reader Care Package: Truffles, Ghiradelli Chocolate, print copy of GATES OF RAPTURE, scented lotion and soap, a journal and other goodies! Be sure to visit as many blogs on my tour as you can. The more blogs you comment on, the greater your chances of winning. The Reader Care Package is US only, but an international winner will receive a gift card. How I choose the winner: I will choose the winning blog then choose the winning comment sometime after midnight, October 5th, Arizona time. I will use Random dot org to make the selection. Good luck!

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About the Books:

Bella Media Management

BLOOD FLAME, Book #1 of the Flame Series:

 Vampire Officer Connor of the Crescent Border Patrol tries to suppress his desire for the powerful witch, Iris Meldeere. Because the woman possesses the ability to kill him with the tips of her fingers, how can he possibly fall in love with her? When a double homicide throws them together, he soon finds his deepest fantasies fulfilled as Iris succumbs to his seductions. But as they battle together to stay alive, and love begins to consume them both, will the witch be able to forgive the dark secrets of his past …

Amazon US / iBooks //B&N / Kobo/ Google Play / Amazon CA / Amazon UK / Amazon AU

http://www.amazon.com.au/Blood-Flame-Book-ebook/dp/B0147RGTJW/

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AMETHYST FLAME, Book #2 of the Flame SeriesBella Media Management

Hunky Nathan Vaughn, six-six, and one muscled vampire warrior, has had a lot of trouble in his life and needs a good woman to help even things out. Vaughn and Emma met once in the past, the night they rescued three teenage girls from a kidnapping ring. But a vampire and a witch can’t have a relationship in Five Bridges. So, they parted, determined never to see each other again. Emma was desolate, then the phone rang. Vaughn called and kept calling and she kept answering. But the rescue they shared turned out to piss off one very bad wizard who decided they both needed to die. Now they’re in it, fighting to stay alive and working oh-so-hard NOT to fall in love. Will they survive when so much is against them?

Amazon US / iBooks / B&N / Google Play / Kobo / Amazon CA / Amazon UK / Amazon AU

http://www.amazon.com.au/Amethyst-Flame-Book-2-ebook/dp/B014X7RNBY/

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Books in the Flame Series:

 Book 1: Blood Flame

Book 2: Amethyst Flame

Book 3: Dark Flame

Book 4: Amber Flame

Book 5: A Touch of Flame

Holiday Novella: Christmas Flame

http://www.carisroane.com/christmas-flame/

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Excerpt from BLOOD FLAME:

From Chapter One: While spying obsessively on a witch named Iris, Border Patrol Officer Connor gets a call to track a drug runner…

An owl swooped down on Iris suddenly, then took up his usual perch in the huge tree at the back of her yard.

Her melodious voice hit the air once more. “Hello, Sebastien.” He could hear Iris laughing and talking with the owl, her pet, or muse or whatever it was witches used to conjure shit.

When his com buzzed for the second time, he swiftly rose another thirty feet in the air then pressed the button. “Connor.”

“Talking pretty quiet. You on a stake-out?”

He recognized Lily’s voice and some of the tension eased out of him. Lily worked dispatch, manning the phones and passing out assignments. “Trying not to attract notice.”

“So, who is she?”

The question startled him. He didn’t think anybody knew what he did between calls. Shit.

Then he realized Lily was fishing. “A beautiful Honda Scrambler, 1973.” Half true. He’d started to collect Café Racers, the older, the better.

He heard Lily snort. “You men and your machines. Okay, listen up. This comes from the chief. We’ve got a runner out at Amado Bridge and he wants you on it.”

Connor frowned. He didn’t usually work the dead-talker end of vampire territory. “Isn’t that Jason’s section?”

“Jason’s MIA, has been for two nights now, and the chief is about ready to explode.”

Unusual for Jason to be missing, but he was a Border Patrol officer and sometimes the men needed to go on a bender just to survive. “He’ll turn up, but his head won’t feel too good.”

Lily laughed. “I totally agree and to answer your next question, yes, Easton was adamant you take this call.”

No point arguing about any decision the chief made. “I’m on it.”

He took off, heading north in the direction of Crescent Territory, wondering what the hell he would find this time. He touched the hilt of his half-sword and thumbed the holster of his Glock. He wore black leather wrist guards lined with steel, a black tank, leathers, and heavy boots. He was ready.

Amado Bridge. He scowled. One of the worst terrains for a runner to attempt to take drugs into the human world.

His instincts lit up. Jason was missing, a runner was out at Amado and Easton wanted him on the assignment.

A sick feeling started crawling around his gut. This call already stunk and it was only midnight. Great…

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from BLOOD FLAME. Let the Flame Series become a new journey for you!

To Read More and for Buy Links…

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Caris-Roane-AuthorAbout Caris:

 Caris Roane is the NY Times Bestselling author of Paranormal Romance. She began her career with Kensington Publishing and for eighteen years wrote Regency Romance as Valerie King. In 2005, Romantic Times Magazine honored her with a career achievement award for her Regency Romance work. To-date, she has published eighty-nine books. Thirty-nine of those are paranormal romances. Most of her paranormal stories are self-published while several in the early days were penned for St. Martin’s Press.

Though her stories conjure up hunky PNR warriors, like vampires and wolf-shifters, the romance is everything, including a satisfying Happily Ever After. Her hope is that the reader will come away engrossed in the lives of her tortured heroes and her worthy women as they wage war, as they make love, and as they face the tough issues of life and relationships!

Caris lives in the Phoenix area, in a growing town called Buckeye. When not writing, she’s a real homebody. She loves gardening, sewing, and cooking. She also enjoys creating jewelry and offers her handcrafted, PNR bracelet giveaways to her newsletter and blog subscribers. Her motto? Live the fang!

If you want to know more about Caris, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | PINTEREST

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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AuThursday – Mary Lingerfelt

Tell us a little about yourself and your background?

I’ve written all my life. I was that weird kid with the glasses who always had her nose in a book. Other kids looked at the playground and wondered whether they wanted to play on the monkey bars or the swings. I looked at it and wondered what happened there when we all went home.

So I was an English major in school, and worked as a small town newspaper reporter out of college — best job ever, BTW — everyone should have that pleasure — and then on the staff of several regional trade magazines and newspapers in Atlanta before starting my own copywriting business.

Are you an Introvert or Extrovert?  How does this affect your work?

It really depends. I think my default setting is introverted, because solitude recharges my batteries, but I can be very extroverted if I like what I’m doing at the time. A guy I once dated told me “You looked like you might be shy, but then you opened your mouth, and you didn’t sound shy at all.” Lol.

How do you relax?

I love going out into nature, especially if there’s water. I love river recreation like tubing and rafting and kayaking. I love sailing. I have a romance coming out that’s set in a small coastal town in Maine.

Do you work to an outline or plot or do you prefer just to see where an idea takes you?

I start with a skeleton outline and a list of characters, and I do plan it out, because you have to make sure that your plot is at least possible, given the realities of that place and time. Then I start writing, and I usually find that the story suggests itself to me as long as I ask, “What would this character likely do or feel here? What makes sense here?” And if the character does something that doesn’t make sense at first glance — why?

I see you write in the Christian/Inspirational genre.  What draws you to this genre?

This is my life. I’m writing what I’ve experienced myself. All of my stories have God as one of the central characters, and my heroines’ actions are always at least partly motivated by their consciousness of his presence. Their relationship with God may be complicated, or even angry at times, but they always break through to a new level of closeness to him, in the end. I see that relationship as a kind of romance, and just as important, if not more important, than the romance between the heroine and her love interest.

What is your favorite motivational phrase?

“You can either work to fulfill your own dreams, or work to help someone else fulfill theirs.”

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

I still am an aspiring writer, lol. But to new writers — my advice would be, learn marketing. That’s a drag, and none of us want to do it, but it’s so important. You can write like a genius, but if no one reads your book, you’re stuck.

Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

This is my website: http://www.marylingerfeltauthor.com/

This is my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/marylingerfeltpage/messages/?threadid=1067635493&timestamp=1503810882574

Join me Saturday when we read an excerpt from Mary’s story, A Lancaster Love.  ~Tina

Tina’s Teaching

****Please Forward to your Writing Groups****

S.E.N.D presented by Tina Holland
Workshop begins: August 7, 2017
Class length: Two weeks
Cost: $15 (free to RWA® Online Chapter members)
Registration opens July 24, 2017

Link to registration: http://rwaonlinechapter.org/?page_id=466

Workshop Description:

Submit your work

Establish your brand

Next book

Discover your strengths.

Are you struggling to find a home for your finished manuscript?   Have you submitted your book, but have no idea where to go from here?   Tina Holland’s SEND workshop may be for you.  In this class, you’ll learn:

1) How to research and SUBMIT to a publishing house and get what you want.

2) How to ESTABLISH your brand, even when writing different genres or standalone books

3)  The importance of working on the NEXT book

4)  DISCOVER your strengths as a writer and learn to use them to your advantage.

About the Presenter:

Tina Holland was born in Frankfurt, Germany and is now settled in the Red River Valley of North Dakota. She lives on a hobby farm and enjoys horseback riding, camping, travelling, and reading books by her favorite authors.

Tina has been published since 2005, and continues to release books as her schedule allows. Tina is a member of RWA Online, Zen Writer’s Garden and the F-M Word Weavers. She hosts a blog at https://tinaholland.wordpress.com/ and you can reach her at  tina@tinaholland.com
Deadline to register is August 7, 2017

FMI: http://rwaonlinechapter.org/?page_id=466

Or email Patti Fischer at fisc40pa@aol.com

You do not need to be a RWA® member to take the class.

Note: RWA® Online conducts all workshops via a message board system located on this website.  However, access to the site is restricted by login and password to ensure that the workshop is only available to those that are authorized to attend.

Saturday Spotlight – The Duchess and the Highwayman by Beverly Oakley

Banner The Duchess and the HighwaymanThe Duchess and the Highwayman

By Beverley Oakley

 Beverley is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate and an eBook The Mysterious Governess.to randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.

 BLURB:

 A duchess disguised as a lady’s maid; a gentleman parading as a highwayman.

She’s on the run from a murderer, he’s in pursuit of one…

In a remote Norfolk manor, Phoebe, Lady Cavanaugh is wrongfully accused by her servants of her brutal husband’s murder.

There’s little sympathy in the district for the duchess who’s taken a lover and made clear she despised her husband. The local magistrate has also vowed revenge since Lady Cavanaugh rebuffed his advances.

When Phoebe is discovered in the forest wearing only a chemise stained with the blood of her murdered husband, she persuades the noble ‘highwayman’ who rescues her that she is Lady Cavanaugh’s maidservant.

Hugh Redding has his own reasons for hunting down the man who would have Phoebe tried and hanged for murder. He plans to turn ‘the maidservant with aspirations above her station’ into the ‘lady’ who might testify against the very villain who would see Phoebe dead.

… Despite the fierce attraction between Phoebe and the ‘highwayman’, Phoebe is not in a position to admit she’s the ‘murderous duchess’ hunted across the land.

Seizing an opportunity to strike at the social and financial standing of the man who has profited by her distress, Phoebe is drawn into a dangerous intrigue.

… When disaster strikes, she fears Hugh will lack the sympathy or understanding of her unusual predicament to even want to save her a second time.

Buy Links:

Amazon | All other buy links

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The Duchess and the Highwayman imageExcerpt:

 She was astonished by the stab of feeling his amused and interested gaze unleashed within her. Her nipples hardened and she felt an instant heat in her lower belly that surely wasn’t just gratitude for the dress he’d paid for. Tempering her smile she looked away. It was a relief she was still capable of warm feelings for a man but she mustn’t allow herself to grow too fond of him. He was a means to an end.

“Well, together we shall prevail, Phoebe.” They’d reached the window embrasure where he put his finger beneath her chin and tipped her head. “I was thinking long and hard about what you said the other day.” At her inquiringly look he added, “That the way to bring Wentworth down would be discover what he most wanted.”

“I already told you what he most wants. The estate he’s inherited through murder.”

“And you plan to return to Blinley Manor to spy on him, is that right?”

She shook her head, suddenly afraid. “I can’t possibly go into company where he might recognise me.”

Mr Redding frowned. “But the new dress. I thought that was your very intention. I thought you planned to pretend to be a lady -”

“A lady, yes, but not …” She trailed off, miserable and fearful.

“You are very loyal to your mistress, aren’t you, Phoebe?” His tone softened. “Yet, despite your boldness, you’re doubting your abilities, aren’t you?” He drew her unexpectedly against him and his hands contoured her curves, skimming up and over the fine muslin before cupping her face. “Don’t worry, Phoebe, I shall be your tutor?”

“My tutor?” She pulled away, not liking the change in him. “I am not as easy as you might suppose, Mr Redding,” she ground out, fighting the urge to cry. Just when she’d begun to like and trust him he’d reverted to type.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m curious. You pretend you’re an innocent, but you clearly have experience of men. You speak and behave like a lady. Who are you really, Phoebe?”

She felt her mouth drop open and didn’t know how to answer. She wasn’t ready to confess her identity when she wasn’t sure enough of Mr Redding.

“Were you trading on past experience to be so beguiling when you desired a new dress? Were you a rich man’s mistress, perhaps?”

Phoebe hung her head. That’s exactly what she’d been and her body language and silence seemed to confirm it in Mr Redding’s mind.

“So once you had a rich protector but now you’re a lady’s maid?”

Unable to look him in the eye, she nodded, tears threatening.

“And now I am your protector and am funding a new wardrobe.”

She gasped and jerked her head up. “So this is when you ask me to sleep with you?”

He shook his head. “Not if the idea is so repugnant. No, I promised a fair trade: your information to bolster a case against Wentworth.” His voice dropped as his eyes travelled over her, lingering on her décolletage which, for the first time, was shown to best advantage thanks to the stays the dressmaker had procured in a hurry. “I still hold out hope I might persuade you of my inherent charm, though.”

“Well, you can hope in vain, Mr Redding. I may have lost my virtue but not my dignity.”

He put out his hand slowly, as if coaxing a small animal and Phoebe watched his seeking fingers gently skim the puffed roulade of her sleeve before advancing across her shoulder towards her bared skin. Anticipation rose and she sucked in a shallow breath as he slowly contoured the edge of her gown, skimming the top of her breasts.

“I know you’ve felt more than just a passing interest in me, from the moment we met, Phoebe,” he whispered. His hand dipped beneath the fabric of her bodice and she gasped, unsure whether to resist or succumb.

By God, but he was making this difficult. She’d wanted any encounter of a physical nature to be on her terms if only to prove she was not the weak creature she’d always been with Wentworth.

Swallowing, she suddenly pulled away, saying in as disinterested voice as she could manage, “What news of the murder at the manor? You were out on horseback in the village this morning, were you not?”

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Author Info:

 Beverley Oakley was seventeen when she bundled up her first her 500+ page romance and sent it to a publisher. Unfortunately drowning her heroine on the last page was apparently not in line with the expectations of romance readers so Beverley became a journalist.

Twenty-six years later Beverley was delighted to receive her first publishing contract from Robert Hale (UK) for a romance in which she ensured her heroine was saved from drowning in the icy North Sea.

Since 2009 Beverley has written more than thirteen historical romances, mostly set in England during the early nineteenth century. Mystery, intrigue and adventure spill from their pages and if she can pull off a thrilling race to save someone’s honour – or a worthy damsel from the noose – it’s time to celebrate with a good single malt Scotch.

Beverley lives with her husband, two daughters and a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy the size of a pony opposite a picturesque nineteenth century lunatic asylum. She also writes Africa-set adventure-filled romances tarring handsome bush pilot heroes, and historical romances with less steam and more sexual tension, as Beverley Eikli.

You can get in contact with Beverley at:

website | Facebook | Pinterest | Twitter | Goodreads

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Teaching at Writer Zen Garden

wzgI’m teaching my FEARS workshop this weekend at Writer Zen Garden if anyone is interested. Classes are free to members. Membership is free.

http://writerzengarden.com/forums/

Feel free to share with any writer friends.