Indomitus Est

 

Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
 
Free Until the End of 2016
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Imagine yourself, born into the suburbs, your parents working class people, your school nothing special.
Imagine that, for some reason far beyond your understanding as a very young child, a god that you didn’t even know existed ear-marked you as his bargaining chip in a trade across realities.
Imagine that, from the time of that first first meeting and for your next eighteen years, that god – Anubis – threw everything he could think of at you, to break you, to torment you, to forge you into this thing to be traded.
And imagine that, at the end of it all, you passed all of the tests, leaving your life in a shambles, never knowing that you were being tested at all and, when the time came, Anubis appeared and tricked you into giving up your soul to him, only to make the trade and give you over to another god, named War, who by comparison made Anubis seem like a pretty nice guy.
I’m Randy Morden – welcome to my world. A world named ‘Fovea,’ where magic is real, technology the stuff of fantasy, and warriors with swords ride horses into battle, trying to stay one step ahead of their gods’ will. I didn’t ask for this life, but I promise you: before anyone ever knocks me down again, I’m going to have their blood on my knuckles, because a man can only be pushed so far!
Other books in the The Fovean Chronicles Series:
King Glennen of Eldador gave me a job to do – avenge his wife’s death – and hey, you know me, I am to please!
So maybe he didn’t say, “Attack the invincible city, sack it and pretty much slap the faces of every important person on Fovea,” but then again I never went to charm school. I kind of do what I do.
But you know what I wish he had said? I wish he’d said, “Lupus, if you do plan to go sack the invincible city, you better make darn sure you have a way out of there, because the Uman-Chi are the most powerful Wizards on the planet, and every other nation is a friend to them.
Yeah, that would have been pretty good advice.
These are the continuing adventures of Randy Morden, a man from our world thrust into another where magic is real and technology sounds pretty far-fetched. As the chosen of a god named ‘War,’ Randy has a mission to fulfill a destiny that he doesn’t understand and, incidentally, to keep himself and his family alive while doing it.
In Indomitus Vivat, the stakes are raised
 as War drives Randy to greater stakes and greater consequences, and pathway that could lead to empire, or straight to hell!
To say that Randy Morden had an effect on Fovea is an understatement. More than ten years after his arrival, the Fovean High Council is in a shambles, the supremacy of the Uman-Chi is a memory, and Eldador is an Empire, not a kingdom.
An Uman-Chi girl finds herself with a song to sing, a song which is a gift from the goddess Eveave. When she sings it, another call will come to Earth, a new call for two new champions, a young girl and an old man, for the world where magic is used like technology, and technology is just starting to appear.
Now War is about to rage across Fovea, and the greedy Eldadorian government is at the center of it. These two champions from Earth have a decision to make – one not so easy as they might think:
Which side are they on?
Travel with Bill and Melissa in the footsteps of the Conqueror and the shadow of the Wolf, and ask yourself: how do you fight the invincible warrior, especially considering that your failure is already foretold?
The battle for Fovea is on, and a girl named Raven and a man named Jack aren’t even sure of which side they should be on. On one front is the Emperor, Rancor Mordetur, from their home planet of Earth. He seems to have a lot on this side – a massive army of highly trained warriors, the most feared witch on Fovea as his wife and superior technology born of another world. On the other is every Fovean Nation; savage Men and wild Uman, long-lived Uman-Chi and merciless Swamp Devils and Slee; all of them unwilling to be subjects of the Empire. But is the Empire evil, or do Raven and Jack not yet have the whole picture? And what of the song that so few people can hear, sung to them by an Uman-Chi girl barely 167 years old? If they can find the weapons mentioned in the song, can they win the day? Or, as the song says, are they doomed to fail?
Indomitus Sum is the conclusion to Indomitus Oriens. Now you can finally learn the fate of those who have no faith, but who instead know the will of their gods.
About the Author
Robert W. Brady, Jr. is the author of ‘The Fovean Chronicles.’
Born in Connecticut in 1964, he graduated from University of Connecticut in 1986.
He worked his way through college as a construction worker, an infant swimming instructor, a bartender, a waiter, a secretary, the manager of a dry cleaning store and a security guard.
While in college, he began the first version of the ‘The Fovean Chronicles.’
After college, he lasted exactly three months in the insurance industry as an Assistant Annuities Analyst, and then enlisted in the Naval Nuclear Power Program.
He served in the Navy from 1987 – 1994, receiving the Navy Achievement Medal, the Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal, the Southeast Asia Service Medal, and Good Conduct Medal during the Gulf War. He was certified as an Enlisted Surface Warfare Specialist, a Reactor Operator, a Radiological Controls Shift Supervisor and achieved a rank of Petty Officer First Class while serving onboard the USS Truxtun, CGN-35 and the USS Cape Cod, AD-43.
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Rulers of Darkness

 
Paranormal Romance

Date Published: 12/29/2015

 

Read 3 sizzling, dark, paranormal romance novels and fall in love with the Rulers of Darkness. 


Passion can be lethal…



Caressed by Moonlight
Dorian Vlakhos is no ordinary aristocrat. He is a vampire king, who will do anything to save his clan from complete annihilation, before an ancient curse can claim his immortal life.
Penniless and orphaned, Victoria Kingston has nothing to bring to a marriage, yet she must shackle an unsuspecting gentleman into marriage by the end of the month or forfeit her rights as guardian of her younger sister. With the help of her dearest friend, Victoria begins her hunt, and vows to stay far away from the dark, mysterious, Dorian Vlakhos.
After meeting the beautifully innocent Miss Kingston, Dorian had to have her. He would do absolutely anything to make Victoria his. One sweet stolen kiss would bring them together while a force, more powerful than any vampire, would bind them for all eternity, but treachery, war, and death rule Dorian’s dark world and Victoria would be fortunate to survive.

Caressed by Night
Dimitri Arsov, the last remaining pure vampire, was thought to be dead for the past four hundred years. Now, he is back and has a score to settle with the traitor that had tried to kill him centuries ago. But as he waits for his prey to blindly step into his carefully laid trap, his overwhelming hunger for blood is triggered when he saves a beautiful art historian.
Kerstyn Ingmar’s life was normal and straight up boring until the night she is rescued by the dangerously sexy, powerfully mesmerizing, Dimitri. Unable to resist his diamond blue eyes and intense kisses, she is drawn into his world of darkness and closer to her impending doom.
While their desire consumes them, Dimitri is haunted by images of a bloody and deadly future. As his enemies draw near, he must find a way to save his mate from her destiny before fate destroys them both.

Caressed by a Crimson Moon
Consumed by madness and tormented by dark memories of blood and death, Hadrian Lucretius, King of the Validus Clan, has returned after living in self-imposed exile for nearly three hundred and fifty years.
To maintain peace with the vampires, Eva Maldonado is offered as a sacrifice to the crazed vampire king by her father, the alpha of the Silveria Shifter Pack. Hadrian’s reputation is both legendary and lethal; he is ruthless, bloodthirsty, lusty, and soulless. When Eva arrives at the ancient fortress high in the Carpathian Mountains, she is shocked to find a ravaged man with dark burning eyes filled with loneliness and dangerous desire.
Would she be his lover…or his prey? His savior…or his victim? Would Hadrian lure her into madness or would their perilous passion be their redemption?


Excerpt

 

Caressed by Moonlight (Rulers of Darkness #1)

The cabin was in complete disarray. The fine hand carved desk was toppled on its side, the armchair before the window was upside down, paper acted as rugs on the floor, and deep claw marks marred the walls. Victoria traced the gouges with the tip of her finger.

“What are you doing here?”

Victoria reeled around to find her husband huddled in a corner, his knees to his chest with arms wrapped tightly about them. His eyes glowered up at her as his hair fell disheveled across his face.

She slowly crossed the floor to stand just out of his reach knowing that if he wanted to grab her he easily could. She had witnessed his speed before.

“I didn’t summon you,” he said, his voice gruff.

“You tried.”

“Falcon saved you,” he snapped, his lips curling back over his teeth. “Why are you here?”

“I want to help you.”

“You want to help me?” He snorted. “Leave Victoria, I don’t want your help.”

“But you need it,” she countered.

He laughed, the sound was chilling, but she ignored it and began to unlace the ties of her robe.

“What are you doing?” he rasped, his eyes fixed on her hands at her breasts as she loosened her laces.

“Removing my robe.”

“Don’t,” he begged on a whisper as the silk fell to a pile on the floor.

“It is stifling in here.”

Her lavender scent was overwhelming and the sound of her steady heartbeat was maddening. She had to go.

“Get out!”

“No,” she protested.

“You don’t know what you are…” his words stopped as her thoughts drifted through his mind. “Or perhaps you know exactly with what you are dealing. But,” in a flash he stood behind her, “can you handle it?”

“Yes.” She would not let him scare her off.

“No,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. “You can’t possibly know. My dear friend, Falcon, even leaves the room every time I change.”

“I want to help you, Dorian. Let me,” she pleaded, “I need to help you.” She wanted to scream the words. She had felt so useless the past two weeks. He was her husband and he needed her even though he would not admit it. Knowing he was in pain and being unable to aid him had been insufferable.

“I will kill you. Leave!”

She did not move. He roared, snatching her by the shoulders, he spun her around and slammed her back against the wall, trapping her with his body. He held her arms over her head, his fingers like shackles about her wrists. His eyes burned black, his fangs stood long and prominent. His voice was low and hard. “Is this what you want to help?”

She could not speak. Her voice was gone, vanished. He shook her.

“Answer me!” His black eyes captured and held hers as his grip tightened.

“Yes,” she squeaked.

He snarled and spun away from her. She brought her hands down and began rubbing the pain away. Dorian sighed and ran his hands through his hair as desperate exasperation washed over him.

“What can I do to make you understand?” The question was directed to himself. In that brief moment, he was again the man she had married and not the vampire she’d just faced seconds before. But his eyes were still clouded black and those fangs still flashed. He looked so vulnerable and she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him.

He must have heard her thoughts for he turned his deadly gaze back to her and snapped, “I don’t want your pity. If that is why you are here, I suggest you leave before I throw you out.”

His threat was empty she knew, his voice did not hold any menace and neither did his eyes. She shook her head stepping away from the wall.

“Then why do you insist on helping me?”

“Because I care for you,” she confessed. “And because it pains me to see you like this, suffering when there is no need.”

“No need?” he laughed. “I could kill you if I took your blood.”

Victoria shrugged. “You could, but I know you wouldn’t.”

He took a threatening step toward her. “How can you be so sure?” he challenged.

“The man I married would never allow it.”

“If you hadn’t noticed,” he advanced again, “he is not here.”

“Maybe not,” she conceded, closing the remainder of the space between them. She brushed her fingers along his knuckles. “I want you, Dorian.”

His eyes sparkled with devilish delight.

“Those are bold words, kitten,” Dorian warned.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Amanda J. Greene creates paranormal romance for ravenous readers. She lives in Southern California, where she enjoys escaping the rewarding but hectic world of writing by spending time in the sun and sand with her military husband and their two dogs.

 

 

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The Sightseers Agency

Science Fiction
Date Published:  August 2016

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The first recruit to the new Sightseers Agency is a remote viewer who actively seeks the resolution of events threatening world security.
Both his fledgling agency and that of The Deaduction Agency are members of The Dreadnought Collective.
The term ‘Dreadnought’ is based on a type of battleship introduced in the early 20th century, larger and faster than ever before and equipped entirely with large-caliber guns.
It applies in this instance because the cerebrally talented agents who enter its portals are expected to fear nobody and be scared by nothing in the performance of their duties.
They pursue those who indulge in criminal and seditious activities in the modern meritocracy using unorthodox techniques.
The Collective will embrace several types of Black Arts as it grows and faces unusual challenges. These once belonged to the realms of Science Fiction but are fast becoming a reality in the emerging new world.
This is a series of Whodunits set in the future.
About the Author

The author, writing under the pseudonym Terry Tumbler, was born in the 1940s in the small province of Wales, in not-as-‘Great’-as-it-once-was Britain. The adjoining photo of the real author has been air-brushed, so that the possibility of anyone stumbling upon his true identity will not disturb him, also believing that no one who reads his first book can possibly recognize him from the long gone days of his childhood. The first book, The Rough and Tumbles of Early Life, as you may be aware, is an accurate recollection of key events that occurred in his early life.  Others of a similar, warped humor and semi-fictional nature have been produced and are being published.
The author left full-time education with a higher level certificate in Business Studies, had a Commercial Apprenticeship in the Titanium Industry, and subsequently gained professional qualifications in Personnel Management and as a Company Secretary. He worked in all aspects of computing for over thirty years, during which time many reports of dubious value and two technical manuals were well-written and printed.
Now retired, and a few months after moving abroad, the author was bemused to find his dear wife sitting alone on her tilting armchair weeping; the reason she gave was shock and horror at the prospect of spending her remaining years with him. Since then, he has done his best to behave himself, but she has still taken out a funeral plan on him. They have three grandchildren, none of whom much like to be with him for more than two weeks.
Those who may wish to inflict retribution for his innocently evil behavior as a child, may well see through the flimsy disguise, but should know that the author now lives on alien shores and cares not one jot for their intentions.
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Silk

 

Historical / Victorian Suspense

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Silk on the skin—luxurious, luscious..lethal.
London-Fall, 1888
The city is in a panic as Jack the Ripper continues his murderous spree. While the Whitechapel police struggle to find him, Detective Inspector Rudyard Bloodstone and his partner are working feverishly to find their own serial killer. The British Museum’s beautiful gardens have become a killing ground for young women strangled as they stroll through.
Their investigation has them brushing up against Viscount Everhard, a powerful member of the House of Lords, and a friend to Queen Victoria. When the circumstantial evidence  points to him as a suspect, Rudyard must deal with the political blowback, and knows if they are going to go after the viscount, they’d better be right and have proof.
As the body count grows and the public clamor for the detectives to do more, inter-department rivalries complicate the already difficult case.
Excerpt
Events of the day and the potential satisfaction of giving Napier a bloody nose dwindled. Questions about the murder crept back into Ruddy’s thoughts. Morris joined him at his table in the rear of the pub with a Guinness, the popular beer of choice in hand. “You’ve got the look of a man whose thoughts are a long distance from London.”
“No, sadly my thoughts are fixed here in the city. I’m trying to figure out a clue. Ellis’s roommate said she’d sometimes meet with a well-dressed man, a man of means the victim indicated. They’d meet up at the fountain by the British Museum.”
“Don’t know the spot but then the museum isn’t my cup of tea.”
“Not the point. I’m saying it’s odd. What member of the upper class chooses to stroll through a public garden other than Hyde or Regents, where they can see and be seen by one of their own?”
“I agree the wealthy prefer the parks filled with others of their kind but it doesn’t mean a man can’t enjoy someplace different.”
“We interviewed the guard again. The one that discovered the body walks that half of the building. He told us the majority of their male patrons are natty dressers, but he never saw a man like that loitering by the fountain.”
“My guess is: the man is married and can’t afford to run the risk of being seen by a friend of his wife’s. Or, he might live or work in the area and the spot is convenient.”
“Or, he’s a murderer who’s noticed the victim walking through the park on a regular basis, saw it as an opportunity and cozied up to her.”
Ruddy took another swallow of his ale, mentally debating the merit of each theory. “I don’t think he lives in the area. If so, he’d have cut through the park more and been seen by the guards. Not sure about the married man having a tryst idea.”
To Ruddy’s way of thinking, if the man was married and looking for a tumble, he’d have met her someplace other than the gardens and at a better hour.
Instinct drew him back to his original sense of the culprit and crime. “I feel like this was a crime of opportunity. I’ve thought it all along and can’t shake the sense.”
“If he was just seeking a victim, then why haven’t you had more murders like this?” Morris asked.
Ruddy downed the rest of his beer and put his tankard on the edge of the table where June would refill it. “Everyone has to start somewhere. She might be number one.”
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About the Author
I was born and raised in Chicago. My father was a history professor and my mother was, and is, a voracious reader. I grew up with a love of history and books.
My parents also love traveling, a passion they passed onto me. I wanted to see the places I read about, see the land and monuments from the time periods that fascinated me. I’ve had the good fortune to travel extensively throughout Europe, the Near East, and North Africa.
I am a retired police detective. I spent twenty-five years in law enforcement with two different agencies. My desire to write came in my early teens. After I retired, I decided to pursue that dream. I write three different series. My paranormal romance series is called, Knights in Time. My romantic thriller series is Dangerous Waters. The newest is The Bloodstone Series. Each series has a different setting and some cross time periods, which I find fun to write.
I currently live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband and four wild and crazy rescue dogs.
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If Tomorrow Never Comes

Book Title: If Tomorrow Never Comes (Part 1 & 2)
Author: Sophie Slade
Genre: Erotic Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 15, 2016 
Cover Credit for If Tomorrow Never Comes, by: Sophie Slade: 
Alyssa Collins Pic: 
Photographer: Jamie Saveal Photography 
Model: Nycole Craft
Cover Design: TNT Book Cover Designs 
Logan pic and back cover pic: Depositphotos.com 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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book blurb

On her way to Nashville to try her hand at a singing career, Alyssa Collins meets Logan Ambrose, her soul mate in every way. Not only is he a great singer and guitar player, he has a down-to-earth personality to die for. Soon, he proposes and they make plans for the future, but everything changes in an instant. A month later, she wakes from a coma only to learn that her life has changed forever.

Lost and distraught, Alyssa tries to make sense of her life. Needing to make a change, she puts her singing career behind her and finds herself in law school. Ten years later, she is a lawyer at a prestigious firm.

When Alyssa goes to New York for a political fund raiser, something happens that changes her life again. With more questions than answers, can she find it in herself to go on with her life … if tomorrow never comes?

excerpt

If Tomorrow Comes, Part 1: 

“The hell with it,” I said as I screwed up my courage and pulled the door abruptly open.

The music immediately rushed to my ears as I stepped in and shut the door gently behind me. The lead guitarist’s fingers flew over the neck of his electric guitar, sending a thrill through me as the music penetrated my soul. Beside him, the bass and rhythm guitar players kept time with the beat of the drummer, as if it were no effort. They were good. Really good.

The drummer looked up. Eyeing me from across the room, he immediately stopped. “May I help you?”

The others stopped and looked up. It was only natural that they didn’t know me.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, setting my guitar case onto a nearby table. I pulled out my guitar and slid the strap across my shoulders. Then, I picked up a pick.

“So, you’re part of the band, too?” the lead guitarist asked, laughing without humor. “Craig told me that it would just be us.” He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length blond streaked hair and shook his head. The rhythm guitarist rolled his eyes at the blond, as if used to his objections.

I suppressed a smile and let my fingers fly down the neck of my plugged in acoustic guitar.

The bass player nodded his approval. “Well, you’ve got to hand it to her. She’s good.”

The rhythm guitarist suppressed a smile.

The blond laughed as he turned back to me. “Do you sing, too?”

I nodded, but didn’t say a word as my fingers flew over my guitar. But this time, I found a rhythm. I looked over at the drummer, and he bit his lower lip, suppressing a grin, having recognized me. I gave him a wink as I shook my head slightly, and then looked back at the lead guitarist.

“So, let’s see what you got.”

He laughed so hard that he dabbed at the tears in his eyes. “Really?” he asked in disbelief, gesturing down the length of my guitar.

I let my fingers run up the neck of my guitar as it screamed in answer.

“Okay,” he said, nodding his head as his fingers flew over the neck of his guitar and came abruptly to a stop. “Let’s see what you’ve got, little girl.”

I raised an eyebrow, taking him in. Behind him, the brunette drummer bit his lip and lowered his head as he shook his head, as if knowing that the blond would soon regret his actions and comments. He didn’t say a word.

One corner of my lips curled into a sly smile. Then, I turned back to Blondie. “You first.”

He nodded his gratitude, and the others laid out as Blondie’s fingers flew over the neck of his guitar and then down to the base. A moment later, his rift came to an end as a self-satisfied smirk spread across his face.

“Impressive!” I said, and, without missing a beat, immediately launched into an impressive rift of my own. When my rift came to an end, the other musicians clapped loudly as they whooped and hollered.

The rhythm guitar player laughed as he shook his head and smoothed back long strands of light brown hair into his ponytail. “I think she smoked you, man,” he said with a pronounced Irish brogue.

Blondie’s lips formed a straight line. And, without saying another word, he launched into another rift, this time mixing in a little rhythm and blues in with his lead line. A moment later, his rift came to an end. He folded his arms across his chest. “Now, beat that.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Well, it’ll be hard. That’s for sure,” I said, matter of fact, as I set down my acoustic. “Mind if I borrow your guitar?”

He handed it to me with a self-satisfied smirk. “Go for it.”

I played around a bit with his electric guitar, getting a feel for it first. Although I preferred playing my own guitar, there are certain things that you can only do on an electric guitar. “As I said, that’ll be hard to beat, but here it goes.” I launched into an intricate rift, including some old-school rock, followed by jazz, and then launched into some contemporary rock. Then, I played the guitar behind the back of my head. After a few bars, I brought the guitar down in front of me and played a contemporary country rift and ended with a high-pitched note at the base of the neck. I jumped into the air and landed, bringing our battle to a close.

Silence filled the air. When I looked around, their mouths were open as I handed his guitar back to him.

“It’s a great guitar, but you need a new G-string. Probably because the key nozzle is a bit loose. You can have that tightened up and it’ll save you from using so many strings. Also, the nut bar at the end needs tightening, too. But, all in all, I like it.” When I handed it back to Blondie, his mouth was still open.

A slow clap came from behind me. Craig had entered the warehouse, dressed in a leather suit coat and black leather pants, instead of his usual business attire. He still wore his signature white dress shirt, but he looked good with it unbuttoned at the neck. I turned away, trying not to notice.

“Alyssa, that was truly impressive,” he said after he stopped clapping.

 



If Tomorrow Never Comes, Part 2: 

“Just as the song came to an end, it felt as if eyes were watching me. I looked over Curt’s shoulder and someone who looked like Logan was watching me from across the room, bringing me back to reality.

“Oh my God!” I said as I backed quickly away from Curt. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this!”

A crease formed between Curt’s eyes. “What? Dance?”

I bit my lower lip. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” I started backing away toward the stage. “It was nice to meet you.”

“May I have your number?” he asked, holding out his hand as he watched me hurry away.

Casey was still going strong on the stage and the crowd was in the palm of her hands.

I bit my lower lip and turned to one of the four bodyguards standing in the wings as tears welled up in my eyes. “I hate to do this, but can you make sure that Casey gets back to our hotel safely? Something has come up and I have to go.”

“Sure,” the leader said. “No problem at all. We’ll make sure that she gets back safely.”

“Thank you,” I said as I pulled my clutch under my arm. “Please apologize to her for me and tell her that I’ll see her back at the hotel.”

He nodded. “I will.” He took a step closer and looked into my eyes. “Is everything okay, miss?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling the need to escape, to run. “Yes, I’m fine, but I must go.”

Without another word, I hurried down the steps and out the side emergency door, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened as tears streamed down my cheeks. It couldn’t have been Logan, could it? This guy was a dead ringer for him, but a little older, more attractive—if that was possible—mature. My heels clicked against the sidewalk when I realized that there was another set of footsteps behind me.

“Alyssa, wait!”

 


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meet the author

Sophie Slade is the author of Erotic Romance. She started writing TOUCHED BY A VAMPIRE, never intending to publish it. However, her husband read it, loved it, and encouraged her to finish writing the book. Now, she is the author of TOUCHED BY A VAMPIRE and CROSSROADS, books 1 and 2 in her ETERNALLY YOURS SERIES. The next book in the series, TO LOVE A VAMPIRE, is coming soon. The stand-alone book IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES, Parts 1 and 2, is coming in January. Sophie has a Bachelor of Arts in Communications, News Editorial sequence, from the University of Tennessee at Martin, and a minor in English. Sophie is a full-time author and resides in Florida with her husband and children.

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Wetzel

 

Historical Fiction
Date Published:  December 2016

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“Who in the west has not heard of Wetzel, the daring borderer, the Boone of North-Western Virginia.” Wills de Hass, 1851.
Lewis Wetzel came of age near the end of the Revolutionary War and was an important participant in the twenty-year war between the woodland Indian Nations and the settlers of western Pennsylvania, western Virginia, and Kentucky. The novel, although classified as historical fiction, traces Wetzel’s life over a period of more than twenty years, featuring events and the rich history that occurred in the upper Ohio River Valley, Kentucky, Ohio, and down the Mississippi to New Orleans. According to de Hass, a historian in the mid-nineteenth century, Wetzel’s efforts were without parallel in border warfare.

 EXCERPT

He moved along in the direction indicated by the track he had found, and he soon found another. The Indian was moving along the path parallel to the tree line, which ended at the riverbank.
Lewis knew that the Indians often used the islands such as Boggs Island to help them cross the Ohio, and he figured that this warrior was heading directly to the shore opposite the island.
“This red buck ain’t doin’ much to cover his trail,” said Wetzel aloud to himself. “And he ain’t too far ahead neither.”
He came to a break in the tree line, and he could see the island in the distance. There was tall grass and some light brush in the open area, then another clump of trees. Wetzel dropped to a crawl, keeping his head below the taller grasses until he reached the trees.
He looked for some sign of his quarry and eventually saw a broken twig just a few feet to the left of where he had entered. A natural path led along the base of a low-rising hill, and Lewis followed it, stopping often to listen and examine the forest floor to both sides.
It seemed to Wetzel that he should be close to what he had thought was the Indian’s intended destination. He heard
Something that sounded like singing, a female voice. His eye then caught sight of his prey, kneeling behind a big maple and watching something intently. Wetzel dropped down behind some bushes and stared at the husky brave. What was he looking at?
Lewis backed up a bit and shifted to his right where there was a small opening in the trees through which he could see to the riverbank. What he saw nearly took his breath away. A woman Wetzel stood at the edge of the stream, splashing water on herself. She was completely naked, and she was singing softly. Wetzel knew immediately that it was Lydia, and he could not take his eyes off her. When she began to turn, Lewis was so enthralled that he nearly forgot his dusky friend who was sharing this view.
Lydia stepped toward the canoe that was pulled up on the bank near where she stood and reached for the towel, slung over its side. In so doing, she exposed her front side to the two men watching her with avid attention. Lewis was conscious of the effects this sight was having on his body. Her breasts were as beautiful as he had imagined, and as his eye dropped down to the dark thatch between her legs, he could scarcely keep himself from crying out. He felt the desire well up within him, and he wanted to rush down and take her in his arms.
Lydia casually lifted the towel and began to dry herself, completely unaware of the two men watching her from so nearby.
Lewis, remembering finally the danger to Lydia crouching behind the big tree, looked to see what the warrior was doing.
The Indian, as if mesmerized by the erotic show in front of him, had not moved. This couldn’t last much longer, and Wetzel
eased back into the woods behind him and moved to a position advantageous for an attack. How should he do it without revealing to Lydia that the two of them had been peeping at her. He could not wait much longer, he knew.
He dropped down to a prone position and raised his rifle, sighting through the opening at the Indian who stood next to the tree, still watching the girl. His face was painted and a stone hung
from his right ear. Wetzel aimed just in front of the dangling gem and squeezed the trigger. The ball slammed into the unsuspecting brave in the right jaw, plowing through his mouth and out just under the left eye. He dropped instantly and without making a sound. Wetzel could hear the scream from Lydia, but he waited for a short while before moving.
He was confident that the Indian was dead, but he made no move to go to the body and retrieve the scalp. He could not see Lydia now, but he figured that she was scrambling to get dressed and get the canoe out into the river. Waiting until he thought she was probably dressed, he then pushed through the trees, making as much noise as possible. Lydia was visible as Wetzel neared the edge of the woods, and he could see that she was no longer naked. She had put on the gown, but he could see that her petticoat was still in the canoe. She had crouched down by the side of the canoe that was nearest the river, and as he came into the clearing, she screamed again.
“Lyddy, it’s me, Lew Wetzel,” he shouted, hoping to stop her screaming.
It had just occurred to him that they might not be alone, even though he had seen no one else.
“Who?” Lydia stopped screaming but remained half hidden by the canoe.
“Lew Wetzel!” exclaimed Lew, louder this time.
Now Lydia stood up and immediately recognized the young hunter.
“Lew Wetzel, you fool. You look like an Indian. You scared me to death.”
“That wasn’t my intent, Lyddy,” protested Lew.
“Was that you shooting?” Lydia demanded, walking around the bow of the canoe and approaching Lew. Her expression had changed from one of fright to one of fury.
“I reckon it was,” admitted Wetzel.
“What were you shootin’ at then?” Lydia wanted to know. “I thought somebody was shootin’ at me.”
“I was shootin’ at a rabbit, Lyddy. I missed him.”
“I thought you was supposed to be a crack shot,” said Lydia, beginning to calm down.
“Suppose to bein’ and bein’ are two different things, mebbe,” said Lew.
He had decided it was better not to mention the Indian.
“Well, everybody says you’re one of the best shots on the whole border. Guess you got ’em fooled.”
Another thought occurred to her, and she felt herself beginning to blush. “When did you first see me?” she asked suddenly.
Wetzel was ready for this question. “Why, just when I came out of the woods,” he explained. “I saw you crouchin’ there behind the canoe. Why do you want to know that?”
“None of your business, Lew Wetzel.” In spite of herself, Lydia’s face broke into a coquettish grin. “Maybe I wasn’t dressed proper for receivin’ company.”
Wetzel stole a glance at the petticoat draped against the side of the canoe. “Maybe you ain’t dressed quite proper even now,” replied Lew, surprised that he would talk that way to a girl. He surely would never say such a thing to Betty Zane.
Lydia had seen his glance, and she blushed even more. Still she was feeling a certain excitement at this turn in the conversation.
“Well, it’s better than it was before I heard that shot. I was takin’ a bath in the river.”
“I sure wish I had seen that!” said Wetzel emphatically.
“You’re bad, Lew,” said Lydia. “Would you have watched me without warning me?”
Lew realized he could be on dangerous ground here, and he answered accordingly. “Of course not, Lyddy. Why, you’re my friend Billy’s little sister.”
“What difference does that make? Does that mean if it was some other girl, like Betty Zane, you would have watched?” Lydia was not particularly fond of Betty Zane. It was rumored that she was engaged to Moses Shepherd, a young man that Lydia had in mind for herself.
“No, I wouldn’t have looked at Betty Zane neither. Listen here, Lyddy, it ain’t smart for you to come over here by yourself like you did. I could’ve been an Injun, and if I was, you’d be dead about now.”
“Well, I ain’t dead, and I don’t like you sneakin’ up on me like some Injun anyway.”
“I didn’t sneak up on you, Lyddy. I’ll go behind these bushes and turn my back while you finish gittin’ dressed. Then I’ll take you back home.”
Wetzel did as he promised, and Lydia finished dressing. She wanted to stay angry with him, but she supposed she didn’t really have a good reason. The look on his face, though, made her wonder if maybe he had seen more than he was admitting. When she was ready, she called to him and climbed into the canoe. He laid his rifle carefully on the bottom and pushed the little craft out into the water, jumping in as the current began to carry it away from the shore. He took the paddle and began the trip back around Boggs Island and to the shore on the other side.
Two days later, Lydia sat in the commandant’s room at Fort Henry when John Linn came in to talk to her father, Captain John Boggs. The two men spoke for a few moments when a remark of Linn’s caught her attention.
“Funny thing, Captain,” said Linn. “Across the river, in the woods across from your island, I found the body of a dead redskin. He’d been shot through the head but wasn’t scalped. I don’t know how long he’d been there, but he was beginnin’ to stink. His gun was leanin’ against the tree right where he fell. I didn’t see no sign of any others around anywhere.”
A puzzled look came across Boggs’ face. “Weren’t you over there a couple days ago, Lyddy?” he asked his daughter. “Lew Wetzel said he’d found you there. Did you hear anything that day?” Boggs had intended to address the matter with his daughter and give her a good scolding, but he hadn’t got around to it yet.
“Not a thing,” said Lydia immediately, wondering how much Wetzel had told her father.
The men looked at each other and shook their heads. “Let that be a lesson to you, Lyddy. You’d best not go over there again like that,” said Captain Boggs.
“I won’t, Pa,” answered Lydia. Some rabbit, she was thinking to herself.
About the Author

Richard Fleming has degrees from Northwest Missouri State and Florida State University, including a doctorate in mathematics.  After forty-two years as a professor of mathematics at the University of Missouri, the University of Memphis, and Central Michigan University, he retired and began to indulge a lifelong love of history.  He lives in Mt. Pleasant, Michigan, with his wife, Diane.
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Gravity

 
Young Adult Romance (LGBT)

Date Published:  11-15-2016

Publisher:  Bold Strokes Books

Sometimes you fly. Sometimes you fall.

A dream at Olympic gold in ski jumping. It’s a dream that’s been the exclusive property of male Olympic athletes.

Until now.

For seventeen-year-old Ellie Engebretsen, the 2011 decision to include women’s ski jumping in the Olympics is a game changer. She’d love to bring home the gold for her father, a former Olympic hopeful whose dreams were blown along with his knees on an ill-timed landing. But can she defy the pull of gravity that draws her to Kate Moreau, her biggest competition and the girl of her dreams?

How can Ellie soar through the air when all she feels like doing is falling hard?

Advanced Praise for Gravity:

“A spicy novel about two young women daring to fly free in life and love while accurately depicting the thrill of ski jumping!”

~ Sarah Hendrickson, Olympic Ski Jumper and member of the US Ski Team Women’s Ski Jumping Team

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Review

I loved the barrage of emotions that Juliann Rich was able to bring out of me as I read about her characters. I felt connected to them as people and their journeys throughout.
Ellie was a great lead character and there were many secondary characters who added to the drama and fun along the way.
Real themes and characters who felt like real people. Plus a world of Skiing and Sports.

 

Juliann Rich 

Minnesota writer Juliann Rich spent her childhood in search of the perfect climbing tree. The taller, the better! A branch thirty feet off the ground and surrounded by leaves, caterpillars, birds, and squirrels was a good perch for a young girl to find herself. Seeking truth in nature and finding a unique point of view remain crucial elements in her life as well as her writing.

Juliann is the author of four young adult novels: CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE, SEARCHING FOR GRACE, TAKING THE STAND, and GRAVITY (forthcoming in November, 2016). She writes character-driven books about young adults who are bound to discover their true selves and the courage to create an authentic life…if the journey doesn’t break them.

Juliann is the 2014 recipient of the Emerging Writer Award from The Saints and Sinners Literary Festival and lives with her husband and an adorable but naughty dachshund named Bella in a 1920’s brownstone she is lovingly restoring to its original beauty.

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