Friday, September 27, 2013

A Few Lines from The Bookstore Lady by Diane Bator

by Diane Bator
from Books We Love
in kindle: 

When the hunched over, balding pharmacist next door called out, “Good morning, Katie,” her hand flinched and her heart raced. It took her nearly a full minute to remember she’d been Katie Mullins for two months and she’d better answer before he got offended.
“Hi.” She nodded.

The drugstore opened at eight every morning and it was now quarter to ten. Must have been a slow morning if he had time to stand in the doorway with a large cup of coffee rather than hanging out behind the back counter. “You’d best convince Ray to get some air-conditioning for that store before your new books curl up and warp. It’s beyond me how he’s never lost half his books every summer.”

“Dust absorbs the humidity.” She smiled wryly. “I don’t think we can afford air-conditioning this year.”

“I know a guy who’ll give you a quote. He’s not bad looking once you get past the bug eyes and scars. I can call him, if you’d like.”

“Maybe some other time.” Like when hell froze over.

He waved and went back into the drugstore.

Katie drew in a deep breath. The air was fresh from last night’s rain and the hint of a breeze mussed her hair. In two months, the only thing to find her was the sunshine and a case of withdrawals that made renovations hell. Nate, bless his heart, had had more compassion while she fought “the flu” than any man she’d ever met.

She blew a strand of stray copper hair out of her mouth and jiggled the door lock. Another thing that needed to be fixed before winter. She should have done it during renovations, but it hadn’t seemed as important as books and workmen. Luckily, Nate worked cheap and she hadn’t had to dig into the money from Dunnsforth. The money was tucked up in a box in the backroom, fastened with half a roll of duct tape. She’d ask him to fix the lock when he delivered her order later.

The door opened with a groan. “It’s about time.”

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Tricia McGill follows with A Few Lines next week.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Discounted in kindle. NOAH'S ARK - 5-star Futuristic romance

Chronicles of Kassouk - The Beginning - A Prequel
by Vijaya Schartz
From Desert Breeze Publishing

Also in print, and everywhere in all eBook formats
When Trixie's starfreighter drops out of jump space in an uncharted part of the universe, she believes the M class planet on her viewer represents hope and salvation for her motley crew and the ragtag settlers of Noah's Ark. Kostas, ex Space Marine, the expert survivalist recruited for this expedition, doesn't believe in coincidences, and knows that when something looks too good to be true, it usually is.

Everyone, on this voyage, is fleeing something, and harbors dangerous secrets... including Trixie, who vowed to never let a man control her life again. As for Kostas, the settlers would lynch him on the spot if anyone suspected who he is. But on this seemingly abandoned planet, others are watching, herding them for evil purposes... and when the truth emerges and secrets unravel, Trixie and Kostas will fight for survival, for freedom, and for the right to love...

Kostas glanced at the man’s retreating back and smiled at Trixie. "Captain, may I have a word?"
"Make it brief." She rubbed her gloved hands together.
"I took the liberty of loading two large pallets of weapons." Kostas pointed to the place in the column where he’d positioned them.
"How typical!" Trixie’s voice erupted loud and cutting, with a hint of exasperated sarcasm. "I specifically requested survival supplies only." She counted on her gloved fingers. "Livestock, food, medicine, tools..."
Her attitude sluiced Kostas like an icy shower. Tempted to clam up, he decided otherwise but struggled to keep his tone neutral and low. "You’ll need these weapons if whoever shot us down comes looking for us."
"We were shot down by automated defenses on the small moon." Trixie shook her head in obvious frustration. "No one manned the guns. We detected no ships in the vicinity."
Trusting his instincts, Kostas refused to capitulate. "Still..."
"Still what?" She took a quick breath. "You military types are all alike. Shoot first, think later. These pallets could have carried more food rations."
Kostas ground his teeth, then struggled to keep his voice civil. "I beg to disagree, Captain. Whoever built that moon station did it for a reason. Some advanced civilization staked a claim on this planet, and they may return at any time."
"If they ever return." Trixie’s visible efforts to calm herself failed as her voice rose again. "That battery of cannons might have been on the moon for centuries. That race may never come back, or not in this millennium. But without food, many of these people will die of starvation or related disease before the end of the winter."
"Hold it, Captain." Kostas wouldn’t let her blame him for doing the right thing. "We still might be able to get more rations tomorrow."
"Orders are orders, soldier." Her voice dropped to a quiet but threatening level. "I expect you of all people to follow them to the letter."
Kostas refused to apologize for his actions. "May I remind you, Captain, that we are not on your ship anymore. You have no authority on land, and I am the survival expert on this expedition."
She just stared at him, open-mouthed.
Afraid he’d say something he might regret, Kostas tightened his jaw and held Trixie’s glare without flinching. She didn’t flinch either. So much fire in those cool blue eyes. Damn! She was beautiful when angry.


Friday, September 20, 2013

A FEW LINES from COLD GOLD by Victoria Chatham

by Victoria Chatham

“Well, look ‘ee here!” The first rider grinned at her, revealing a mouthful of stained and crooked teeth that reminded her of broken tombstones. “New blood in town.”
“Hello, fancy lady,” the second rider said. “You goin’ to share a drink wi’ me before we share somethin’ else?”
The other riders dismounted and gathered around her, jostling Serena until her back flattened against the wall of the saloon. Her mouth quickly dried up. Her heart pounded. She smelled their sour breath and sweat-stained clothes, felt their anticipation and wished she had paid more attention to Sheriff Johnson’s warning.
“Oy, you lot!” Every head turned at the strident tone of a woman’s distinctly English voice. “Jasper, you idiot, you don’t know a real lady when you see one. Cal, you wouldn’t know what to do with one anyway. Tom, Walt, Clarence, stand back and give the lady some room. Clear off, the lot a’ ya.”
Grumbling, the men turned away and walked into the saloon. Serena closed her eyes and sighed with relief.
“Are you stupid, or what?”
Serena pushed off the wall and faced her rescuer. The force of the expression in the woman’s blue eyes almost caused her to take a step back again.
“I...I wasn’t thinking,” she stuttered.
“That was perfectly obvious,” the other woman retorted. “Come on, we need to get you off the street. This way.”
The woman took Serena’s arm in a strong grip and hurried her along the boardwalk in the opposite direction to the Eldorado.
“In here.” The woman opened a door and pushed her into a store redolent with the warm and wonderful aromas of coffee and fresh baking. “Go on, straight through that door facing you. I’m right behind you.”
Her rescuer’s hand, firm on her back, gave Serena no choice but to go where directed. The moment she passed through the second door, she spun on her heel. “Just
who are you?” she demanded. “And what gives you the right to push me around?”
“Well, pardon me for breathing.” Anger spiked the woman’s voice and blazed in her blue eyes. “You’d rather be pushed around by a bunch of randy miners, would you?”
“No, of course not. And I do thank you for coming to my aid, but who are you?”
“Someone you shouldn’t be seen with, that’s for sure.”
“Why shouldn’t I be seen with you?” Serena looked her rescuer up and down and might have been looking in a mirror, so similar were they. The woman was her height,
dressed in clothes as fashionable as her own. Tendrils of hair, blonde rather than dark brown, framed the woman’s face and, just like Serena’s own skin, the woman had a fresh, clear complexion.
“Because I’m Lorelei Sutton and I own a brothel just outside of town.”

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Visit Victoria Chatham at
Join us next week for A Few Lines from Diane Bator

Friday, September 13, 2013

a few lines from The Abduction of Mary Rose by Joan Hall Hovey

This week, a few lines from The Abduction of Mary Rose
by Joan Hall Hovey 
The teenage girl hurried along the darkening street, head down in a vain attempt to divert attention from herself as she headed for her bus stop, still over a block away. The car behind her was a soft growl in the still, warm air.  The day was fast fading, the sky a light mauve, only a sprinkling of stars yet. Soon it would be dark... Ignore them, she told herself. But it was impossible to do with the car following so close that the heat from the motor brushed her bare legs, like a monster's breath.
Victoria Chatham follows next week.

Friday, September 6, 2013

A Few Lines From. . . Connie Vines

by Connie Vines
Brede swallowed, trying to ignore the thick, tight feeling wedged in his throat.  He didn't welcome the onslaught of emotion that filled his chest and caused him to stroke her jaw with an unsteady finger tip.  He reminded himself that he didn't need to be involved in her problems; he had enough of his own.  As soon as the roads were passable, he'd get her to a doctor and the police could take care of the rest.

Still, no matter how hard he tried to remove himself from the situation, he kept remembering how fragile she'd seemed in his arms.  he felt as if he'd carried a sparrow, all feathers and tiny bones, out of the gully.

Connie Vines
Expect the UnExpected!

Stop back next week for a few lines from Joan Hall Hovey.

Sunday, September 1, 2013


Novella by Vijaya Schartz
When bounty hunter Akira Karyudo accepted her assignment, something didn't add up. Why would the TPP want a kidnapped orphan dead or alive?

She will get to the truth once she finds the boy, and the no good SOB who snatched him from a psychiatric hospital. With her cheetah, Freckles, a genetically enhanced feline retriever, Akira sets out to flush them out of the bowels of the BOREALIS space station. But when she finds her fugitives, the kidnapper is not what she expects.

Markku, a decorated rebel soldier, stole his nephew from the authorities, who performed painful experiments on the boy. Stuck on Borealis, he protects the child, but how can he shield him from the horribly dangerous conditions in the lawless sublevels of the decrepit space station?

Akira faces the worst moral dilemma of her career. Law or justice, duty or love. She can't have it both ways.


Two thugs stalked away to follow the cheetah.

"Go after that cat and you're dead!" The strong baritone voice came from a tall man aiming a blaster at the two hoodlums.

He stepped out of the shadows, in full paramilitary gear. His left hand held a long knife. He sidled toward Akira, circling the thugs, who started to retreat at the sight of his blaster.

"Mind your own business." Akira didn't appreciate unwanted help.

The man stepped closer. "These goons know nothing about civilized rules of fighting. They want your body, your hide, your cat for its meat, and your armor and weapons."

"I know that." Who did this man think she was? A neophyte? "There is no honor in killing defenseless creatures."

"There is no honor in this place." His gaze skimmed the sorry lot holding an assortment of blades and clubs, some with protruding metal spikes. "Believe me, they are far from defenseless."

The thugs kept their distance from the blaster aimed at them, but they did not retreat.

"Still. I refuse to kill if there is another way." None of those rejects would threaten her individually, but their number could present a challenge. As more joined the group, she counted two dozen.

The louts glanced at one another with indecision. At least, they understood the warning. She was trained and dangerous. Not to be trifled with. They widened their half circle in front of her, still hesitating, but they held their ground. Chikusho.

In a few long steps, the stranger joined her side. From his walk and the way he held his weapons, she could tell he had military training. He didn't look like a TPP soldier, though. Something wild lurked in his clear blue gaze. A free thinker. A bounty hunter like her? Or perhaps a rebel?

"You look like you could use some help."

"Do I?" Unbelievable. "Why should I trust you?" She couldn't help the derision in her voice. "For all I know, you could be their leader, luring me into a trap."

He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm not one of them, and you are in more trouble than you know."

"Get out of my way." Akira clicked open the metal claws of her forearm braces then unsheathed a titanium short sword and adopted a defensive stance. "I work alone."

He laughed. "And I'm telling you, this is no place for a warrior from a distant past. Especially, one who cares about something as futile as honor.