Introducing my latest release

On Sunday, I'm excited to say, my first release with Amber Quill is coming out, and today starts my informal blog tour to promote it. I say informal because it's something I put together myself with people I know, and a few very nice reviewers. I hope you'll love my book as much as I do, so I'm going to tell you a little about it. You might have seen snippets of it here and there. This book is very close to my heart, I must admit.

The name of the book is When Will I See You Again. If the title sounds familiar, that's because it's the name of a song by the Three Degrees, and yes, I was influenced by it when I wrote this. Here is the video, so you can listen to it, too.  http://youtu.be/T6fVDAjs9f0

Now, here is my inspiration for Raoul Marchand.

This is what Raoul looks like in my mind. And yes, this is Gerard Butler, the way he looks in Attila.

When Will I See You Again takes place in a time when the presence of werewolves and vampires among the general populace is known and accepted, largely because of drugs that control any baser animal instincts. SL57 is the werewolf wonder drug, short for SomnioLupus, otherwise known as Wolf Trank. In the small seaside town of Crescent Bay, people come to the famous nightclub Charisma, mostly because of the charismatic man who is one of the best-known supes in the area: Raoul Marchand. Raoul is a regular party animal, one who lives but to have a good time, and who cares for no one and nothing. But he hasn’t always been this way...

Let me share the blurb with you.

 Raoul Marchand is the crown prince of Charisma, the infamous night club in Crescent Bay, renowned for its supernatural clientele. He has the pick of any and all men, but he cares for none. He uses them and throws them away again, and has done so for some twenty years, in the aftermath of a tragedy that robbed him of what he loved most in the world.

Alexx Jameson is an idealistic young would-be reporter with the Crescent Bay Chronicle. Presented with an opportunity to write a story on the Marchands, he eagerly grasps the chance to be a real reporter. His friend, Chronicle receptionist Miller Fenwick, suggests they go to Charisma to do a little research. Alexx isn’t sure that’s such a great idea. After all, he’s still under age, being only twenty. No problem, Miller can fix that! Added bonus, there’s a full moon tonight.

When Alexx first encounters Raoul, it isn’t exactly in the way he dreamed of, and he’s sure he made a terrible first impression. But Fate throws them together under unforeseen circumstances, and the attraction between them can’t be denied. Can Raoul let go of the past long enough to find his future with Alexx, or is he doomed to repeat past mistakes?

And now for an excerpt:

Alexx drew in his breath in dismay. This wasn’t going well. Even so, he could not stop staring at Raoul. His eyes met the other man’s. Raoul’s were very golden; he wasn’t aware such colors even existed in the spectrum of the human eye. But then again, he didn’t have any friends that were werewolves either. He wondered if this was a sign that perhaps this man was about to change, right here and now?

The thought was both exhilarating and frightening.

Alexx’s vision telescoped until he wasn’t aware of anything but this gorgeous man in front of him. Blood pounded in his ears and his mouth felt suddenly dry. Having lost all sense of the others in the room, he was surprised when he felt his chair yanked out from under him. Before he could fall, a hand grabbed the scruff of his neck, propelling him to his feet. He glanced at his companion; Miller was being subjected to the same surly treatment.

“You waste my time for this?” Raoul’s upper lip curled back in a snarl. Alexx found himself wildly attracted to him. “I have somewhere I need to be. Paolo, please show these gentlemen out.” Sarcastic much? He turned and reached for the door, but it opened before he touched it.

A shaggy blond with hazel eyes and a cheerful countenance stuck his head inside. “Hey Paolo—” He interrupted himself at the sight of the occupants of the room.

Alexx heard Miller’s sigh of relief, even as he too recognized the newcomer. He’d seen him around the Chronicle often enough, although he’d never really spoken to him. Foster Levine, son of the Chronicle’s owner—heir apparent and future newspaper magnate.

Alexx’s relief quickly changed to anxiety. What if Foster knew how old he really was? He couldn’t be sure one way or the other, but for the sake of argument, he had to assume he did. Would he out him to Raoul Marchand and his burly minion? Had they simply jumped from the frying pan to be scorched by the fire?

And this is how I pictured Foster, for the record. Get your drool bibs ready for this one too lol

I always hoped that I would find a publisher for WWISYA, but the road wasn't an easy one. Luckily for me, I have the support of my wonderful kids and some very great friends.  First I was rejected, and then I was ignored (the publisher was interested but forgot to get back to me). I had always wanted to sub to Amber Quill, but they were, until recently, by invitation only. So I took a chance, and found my book accepted in six days, and published three months later.

So now here I am, excited and thrilled to bring this to you. I don't want to give away too much of the story, because that's what reading is for, right? Discovery, exploration, sharing... and I hope you get to experience them all. So I am going to have a giveaway. Two readers will win a copy of When Will I See You Again.

What do you have to do? Well, I would like it if you followed me, but I won't demand it. What I am asking for is that you comment and tell me whatever comes to mind. What you think of the song, the blurb, the excerpt - how you're feeling today, anything. Be sure to leave an email address, so I can contact you if you win.

I will pick the winners before my Valentine's Day Blog Hop, and post them. You can comment on any of my stops on my tour. I'll put all the  names into a hat and draw from them.

I hope you enjoy the tour. Most of all, I hope you enjoy the book. I put my heart in it.  Thanks for listening.

The first stop on my tour is The Novel Approach. Go there and enjoy! There'll be a giveaway there too!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Wednesday Briefs: Dallas in Wonderland II: Chapter One

Happy but chilly Wednesday! At least here it is. Brrr. More snow yesterday, but not nearly as much as we got before, so I'm grateful for that. And it's Wednesday, which means more flash fiction for you to enjoy! And be aware, we have a flash virgin this week!

As you'll recall, I said that last week was my last week for Trapped in Time II. This week I start a  new story. Well, relatively  new. You  might remember Dallas in Wonderland. I ran it here before, then ended up publishing it with Xtasy Books. Now here comes the sequel, and the tentative title is The Wonder of Dallas. Enjoy! And don't forget to visit the other Briefers and enjoy their offerings! Their links follow my tale!

Dallas in Wonderland II: Chapter One

Dallas hated working the night shift.

He hated the drunks who spilled into the restaurant after the bars closed, at loose ends with themselves and having nothing better to do than to eat. And fight. And puke. Sometimes all at once.

It was a noisy, disgusting shithole. But it’s what he had to look forward to every night. Although sometimes he got lucky and found himself on the day shift, when the drunks were busy at their places of employment. Pretending to be upstanding citizens of the sober variety.

Dallas hated the Rusty Heifer with a passion. What kind of name was that anyway? Named by a drunk, for drunks, it was a far cry from the fine dining establishment where he’d been a sous chef six months ago.

Only six months, but it felt like a lifetime.

In the past six months, he’d lost his job, lost his lover, put his culinary classes on hold, and watched helplessly as his whole world shattered around him. He’d lived with his sister, Paris, and her young son Oz, for the first six weeks. And every day, she made sure he kept his appointment with his doctor. His psychiatrist, actually. Doctor Samuel Levi.

And that was a whole other can of worms.

The bus let him off near the converted Victorian mansion he still called home. At least that hadn’t changed, although not for lack of trying on Paris’ part. She said he should move, start over, but he resisted her advice. It was good to have a constant in one’s life. He liked the building, strange noises and all. Even if it was where he had met Samuel.

Or at least he thought he had.

Dallas wasn’t actually sure of many things these days. Best not to analyze. That only hurt, and Dallas surely didn’t need the pain.

He trudged wearily up the steps to his apartment on the third floor. His hands smelled like antiseptic. Every night, when he got off work, he vigorously scrubbed away the scent and the texture of the Rusty Heifer from his skin. Better the sting than the stench.

He supposed he was lucky that Dr. Levi was willing to accommodate Dallas’ fluctuating schedule. He was willing to work around it, to see Dallas whenever Dallas was available. At least he was only going to the office only three times a week now. Did that mean he was improved?

Hell, he didn’t even know what he was supposed to be improved from.

“You need coffee.”

No, he wasn’t hearing voices of people that didn’t exist, and he wasn’t hallucinating. Dallas glanced at the apartment across the hall from his. His previous neighbor, Mrs. Mayhew, had passed on a few months back... to a retirement community in Florida. Her apartment had been quickly let to another tenant, a young man by the name of Campbell Cain. Campbell worked as an OB nurse in a large nearby hospital. He was cute and bubbly and entertaining. He and Dallas had hit it off right away.

Sadly, Campbell was no substitute for Samuel, even if he was willing to be.

Dallas flashed Campbell a tired smile. What he needed was a good healthy dose of Samuel Levi, something beyond the formal limbo they found themselves in when Dallas visited his office—had there ever been anything more between them? The evidence said no, but Dallas’ weary heart insisted yes. Who to believe? Whatever, he was in no imminent danger of getting more of the same any time soon.

Sleep sounded good too, except that it didn’t, because sleep led to other problems. Such as dreams he couldn’t control, dreams of the strange world he referred to as Wonderland where he’d spent a little time with Samuel once upon a time.

Or had he?

Sometimes the dreams were of Dallas’ ex, Quentin Mandrake. These dreams he spelled n-i-g-h-t-m-a-r-e-s.

He hadn’t seen Quentin recently, not since the one time in Samuel’s office, and he wasn’t really sure he’d seen him then. That day was more than confusing, and everything he did then was suspect.

Oh yes, Campbell had invited him for coffee. Part of their daily ritual, whether offered in the early morning, late afternoon, or at any time of an evening.

“Yeah, I do,” he answered the implied question at last, turning his steps toward his neighbor’s door instead of his own. He didn’t worry about the caffeine intake. He could sleep through any amount of caffeine. The trick was to tire himself out so much that when he fell asleep he would bypass the dream stage completely. At least that was his fervent hope.

Campbell was still in the early stages of living on his own for the first time. What little furniture he had was cheap, as he couldn’t afford much, but he made up for that by having terrific taste in what he was able to get. And he knew how to accessorize with a vengeance. In the short time he’d been there, he managed to make his living space more warm and homey than Dallas ever had.

Campbell’s apartment was Dallas’ refuge. A haven from his troubled life.

Campbell had long dark hair that fell down his back when it wasn’t tied up beneath his nurse’s cap, and warm skin the color of heavily creamed coffee. Add to that eyes like emeralds and a smile that wouldn’t quit, and you had quite the pretty package.

And yet Dallas couldn’t get past seeing Samuel long enough to enjoy the view.

He shuffled inside the apartment and flopped onto the sofa. It was tan and comfortable, and Campbell had added throw pillows in fall colors. It felt good to Dallas’ weary bones.

“Here you go, hon.” Campbell handed him his cup—by now, he knew just how Dallas like it. Dallas gratefully sipped at the warm liquid. Campbell took a seat beside him with his own coffee.

“Did you know you had a visitor today, sugar?”

What?

to be continued

Now see what the other Briefers are up to!

Jon Keys

Grace Duncan  

MA Church

Chris T. Kat

Shelly Schulz

Raine O’Tierney

JC Wallace

Rob Colton

 Victoria Adams

Elyzabeth VaLey 

Cia Nordwell

Tali Spencer

Sarah Hayes    ****FLASH VIRGIN*****

Michael Mandrake

Andrew Q. Gordon

MC Houle 

 Renee Stevens

Guest Blogger Norma Nielsen

Please welcome fellow author Norma Nielsen from down under, who's going to talk about two new releases! She's certainly been busy!

Experimentals (Blurb)

When the past calls Storm Gennaro for assistance he willingly comes to help the man who walked away from him. Thirty years is a long time to be parted from the one person meant to stand at your side forever.

Heath Madden is sick, and his family call Storm to help save him. All the hurt and betrayal suffered at the man’s hands resurfaces, but not everything is as it seems.

The past has come back to wreak havoc on their lives and as they dig deeper they realise they aren’t the only ones whose lives are being played with.

Excerpt: Experimentals Blessed With A Curse

The murmuring of voices in the room pulled Heath back into the land of the living. His heart raced as he wondered if Storm was still there. Part of him hoped that the man had left to allow him some peace, but the more selfish part of him wanted Storm to still be there, worrying over him. Blinking rapidly, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the light.

“He’s awake,” Ian said from somewhere nearby.

Callie came over and peered down at him. “How are you feeling?” There was such sadness in her eyes.

“Where’s Storm?” His throat felt dry. These days, he could never quite seem to quench his constant thirst.

“Gone,” Trace stated as he came and joined the others beside the bed. “He left as soon as he told us what was wrong with you.”

There was something going on, something they were afraid to tell him. “And?”

Tears leaked out of Callie’s eyes and ran down her face. “Storm says you’ve been poisoned. Someone is trying to kill you.”

Trace glared down at Heath, and he cringed. “You knew what our safety rules have always been—don’t eat or drink anything we haven’t prepared ourselves. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I haven’t. I mean, I, along with all the rest of you, know the danger. There isn’t anything I have ingested that one of us didn’t prepare.” He stared at them all, and it hit him hard that once Storm had found out he was dying, he’d walked away. Being mates obviously didn’t mean that much to the man. He was probably out there right now, fucking someone else without even giving Heath a minute’s thought. Lucky he hadn’t let Storm know how much his being back hurt. He wouldn’t give his so-called mate the satisfaction of laughing in his face. Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “Is he coming back?”

“I don’t think so,” Ian said quietly. “He was very pissed off and angry when he told us what was wrong with you. We may have had some words, and he isn’t very happy with any of us right now.”

Heath wondered what could have gone down that had them all so upset. “What happened?” He grimaced as another wave of nausea rushed through him like a tidal wave.

“Um…he may have told us that not everything we’ve heard about him is true,” Trace said

Callie jumped into the conversation. “He told us to sit down and think about all the things we have heard about him, and where he was at those times. Once we did, we would see the truth.”

“And?” he asked when they all fell silent.

Ian coughed and looked ashamed. “When we sat down and did what he asked, we realised there was no way he could have done those things. Especially the ones immediately after we all turned away from him.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” There was no way Storm was innocent. Heath didn’t want to hear that he had wronged his mate for all those years for no reason.

Trace frowned. “We did a little digging. When we walked away and left Storm in the nightclub the night of the fight, he was arrested. Storm spent the next year behind bars in a human prison, so there was no way he could have been in any of those photos you received. The time frame isn’t possible. As much as I hate to admit it, I think Storm is innocent.”

“But Ian and I saw him practically fucking that woman, didn’t we? We saw it with our own eyes.”

Ian nodded, “But he did try and explain to us that she was his working partner, and we didn’t believe him. It turns out Storm owns a detective agency, and the woman we saw was Maggie Margaret–she really was his business partner. She was killed that same night. The job they were on was a setup, and all hell broke loose. About a year later he got a new partner by the name of Dean Birkwell, and no, I don’t think they are in any sort of relationship. I think that if we keep digging we will find out he hasn’t done most, and maybe not any, of the things he’s been accused of.”

Pain arced through Heath as he finally understood what was happening. “Fuck me, what have I done?”

“Don’t you mean what have we all done?” Callie said sadly. “We turned our backs on him when he needed us most, and then when we finally track him down, it’s only to use him for his abilities.”

“I hate to admit it, but he was really cut when he left here. I know he wanted to stay, but he left so you wouldn’t have to see him when you woke up,” Trace told Heath.

Dizziness swamped Heath when he tried to sit up. It took three attempts for him to complete the task. “I need to find him.” He turned to his sister. “How did you find him?”

“I called his Skype name. Surprisingly, he’s never changed it.”

“Get me to the computer. I need to talk to him.” He waited impatiently as Callie gently pushed him back onto the bed and Trace went to grab the laptop. He dialled in the contact name he had known so well and used so often. Back then, before the fateful night, he and Storm had been the best of friends.

And then he had hurt him.

“Hello.”

The face appearing on the screen was not one he knew, but one he’d seen before, and a surge of jealousy washed over him. “I want to talk to Storm.”

“He’s sleeping right now, and I won’t wake him up. Not even for you.” The man glared out from the screen at him.

“You don’t even know me,” Heath snarled.

The other man snorted in disgust. “I may not have personally met you, but I’ve been guarding you ever since Storm and I hooked up.”

The words “hooked up” clamped around Heath’s heart and squeezed tight. “Are you fucking him?”

“That, sir, is none of your business. Who the hell do you think you are to make a claim on him now?” The anger rolling off the other man had Heath almost willing to shut the link.

“Please, Dean, I really need to see Storm. I need to talk to him.” If Dean was startled by the use of his name, he didn’t show it.

Dean stared back at him thoughtfully. “Things aren’t always what they seem. I think it might be best if I bring you here because this link may not be safe, and Storm has already had someone following him today. I won’t risk him going out again this soon. If you can get to the transport station on Elkin Street in the next ten minutes, I’ll swing by and pick you all up. Be waiting at the side entrance.” He paused as if in thought. “Yes, it’s best if all of you come, because whoever started this whole mess thirty years ago isn’t done playing with any of you yet.”

“But I want—”

Dean cut him off. “Just be there. This is your one and only chance of making things right with Storm, and if you are playing him—then you will regret it, because I will make you pay for the rest of your miserable life.”

Heath inhaled sharply as Dean’s eyes bled out until they were solely black. The vision only lasted for a second before Dean blinked, and his gaze was once again his silver-grey colour. “Okay, we’ll be there.”

Dean disconnected, and Heath pulled in a slow breath before he spoke to the others in the room. “You heard the man. We need to get to the station on time.”

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Ian asked as he began gathering their belongings.

“No,” Trace said. “Whatever we assumed, I don’t believe Storm would be involved in what’s happening to Heath now. I think he was sincere in what he told us earlier.” Heath sat there and watched the others get things organised when a thought struck him. “Am I really dying?” he asked the room at large. When they remained silent, he had the answer.

If he was going to die, he wanted to finally tell the man who was his mate exactly how he felt about him. He didn’t want to leave this world without first having told Storm that he had always loved him, even when he was pissed beyond belief at him. In the last twenty-nine years they had crossed paths exactly three times, and each time they had wound up having sex, yet never once did the words “I love you” pass either man’s lips. The sexual encounters were a need that struck them every nine years, and so far they had avoided each other in between. Heath knew that he had callously used the man who would have quite willingly offered him the world. At the time he had felt justified in holding onto the hurt and betrayal he thought Storm had incurred, and couldn’t even allow himself to offer the slightest bit of comfort in return. Every time they parted, he knew, he took another piece of Storm’s heart with him.

The reason he couldn’t comfort his mate was that each time he left Storm, something terrible always happened to him. The first time he had nearly been run over, and to this day, he believed the driver was aiming with the intent to kill. The second time, he had been beaten so severely that he had ended up in a hospital for the next two weeks. The third time, in the middle of the previous year, he had no sooner left Storm than he saw another man entering his mate’s lodgings, and as he stood there, he had watched them embrace. After witnessing this, Heath had turned and walked away, determined never again to go near his mate. Now he had a name to go with the man who had torn his heart apart almost a year earlier–Dean Birkwell.

 The Gaean Prophecies: Admetus Gaea

Blurb

Jarkebb Arindad: The banished son of Lord Jondalar Arindad, ruler of the Elven-kind, was sent to find the saviour the prophecies foretold of. He came back with his foster brother and best friend—Grayson.

Grayson Gellespie: Finds himself thrust into the role as the saviour of a world he believed was nothing but an imaginative story. What does he do when he finds out it’s all real? How will he find the way to save them all?

Bailin Greer: Warrior of the Deepwoods Faerie Glenn was tasked by the Lady to be the saviour’s eyes behind enemy lines. What happens when the bad guy isn’t the enemy?

Alone they’ll fail. Together, their combined forces will have the power to forever change the world in which they live Three stories woven together to tell the beginning of the Gaean Prophecies... Apart from saving the world—our heroes have to fight to be with their bond mates along the way.

 Thanks for stopping by, Norma!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Guest Blogger: Soul Slam

Please welcome author Allie Burton, who's here to talk about her latest release, Soul Slam.  Allie will be giving one random commenter during her tour a $50 Amazon/B&N GC. The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. To see the other stops on her tour, go here. Look for the rafflecopter at the end of this post!

Soul Slam - Soul Force Book 1

by Allie Burton

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

BLURB:

A sixteen-year-old on her first heist to steal an ancient Egyptian amulet inadvertently receives the soul of King Tut…and the deadly curse that comes with it.

           

And Olivia is not alone at the museum.

           

A member of a secret Society, Xander believes it is his place to inherit King Tut’s soul and justly rule. He knows nothing about the society’s evil plan to control the world or the curse. Now, he must deal with the female imposter who stole the amulet.

Xander convinces Olivia they must form a temporary partnership. The two teens develop a connection, and together they must figure out how to end the curse before it turns deadly. On the run, unable to touch because of the curse, and dealing with a male soul inside her female body, Olivia must learn to trust Xander.

As the mystery surrounding the amulet unfolds, Olivia and Xander start to fall for each other. But is love enough to save them and the world from destruction?

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

EXCERPT:

“Olivia.” I liked how he said my name. With a sophisticated accent, not a trashy lilt like the boys in the family. “Shouldn’t you look outside first?”

I firmed my lips and kept my pace heading straight for the door. “I trust my people.” I tossed my braid around and shot him a look. The dig was deliberate.

“So did I.” His response cut my bravado in two.

My family wouldn’t ditch me. Like the Marines, we didn’t leave a man behind as long as I brought Fitch what he wanted.

I pushed against the metal bar to open the door. Damp air hit my face. So did the stench of recently-smoked cigarettes. A black SUV was parked in front of the doorway with its lights off. The shiny car looked expensive and new.

Fitch didn’t own a vehicle like that.

Something hard and pointy shoved into my back. Clicked. Like an animal about to become lunch, I tensed.

“Don’t move,” a gruff voice said from behind.

Not Fitch’s voice. Or the old creepy guy Jeb. My brain analyzed the situation while my instincts wanted to scream.  “Are you a security guard? Because some old guy is in there trying to steal—”

“Shut up. I got a rifle kissing your heart.” How long had the guy been rehearsing that corny line?

“Wh-what do you want?” My tongue tripped over the words.

“You.”

First, the security guard. Then, Jeb and Xander. Now, this guy.

It sucks to be so popular.

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

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Allie Burton

Allie didn’t realize having so many jobs would become great research material for the stories she writes. She has been everything from a fitting room attendant to a bike police officer to a professional mascot escort. She has lived on three continents and in four states and has studied art, fashion design, marine biology, and advertising.

When her kids asked, “when are you going to write a story we can read?” she switched from adult novels to Young Adult and Middle Grade and hasn’t looked back.

Allie is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators, Romance Writers of America including the Young Adult, Dallas Area Romance Writers and Heart of the Rockies chapters. She is also a member of Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers. Currently, she lives in Colorado with her husband and two children.

www.allieburton.com

www.twitter.com/Allie_Burton

www.Facebook.com/AllieBurtonAuthor

www.wattpad.com/AllieBurton

1. What are 5 things within touching distance? A writing contest winner’s plaque to remind me that I can do this, a photo to keep my family close, research books for easy access, one pound weights to use while I’m thinking, and pen and paper to write down thoughts and ideas.
2. What is your least favorite word? Rhythm. I use it in my writing but can never spell it right. Good thing there’s spell check.
3. What part of the writing process do you dread? The final proofing. I’ve usually read the book so many times it’s hard for me to spot a typo.
4. What is your favorite joke? I don’t really have a favorite, but I love to laugh.

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Wednesday Briefs: Trapped in Time II: Chapter Thirteen

Good morning and Happy Hump Day one and all! How fast the time flies when one's having fun! And also when one looks forward to reading some great flash fiction, right? Our group is growing all the time, hope you're having as much fun as we are!

In last week's episode of Trapped in Time II, Doll and Vittorio were reunited at last, but not quite in the way Doll had anticipated. Is this a temporary setback? And will Doll hold it together long enough to come up with a plan? Find out in this week's chapter. This will be the last one I post here, so I can work on it and sub it to Xtasy. Next week, I'll start something new. And don't forget to visit the rest of the Briefers and taste of their literary offerings! Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

Trapped in Time II: Chapter Thirteen

I stand there, frozen, wasting precious moments while I try to collect my thoughts. What has happened, and how can I fix it and make things right between us? How can I engender a spark of recognition inside of him so that he will know me again?

I did not come all this way to find him simply to give up and walk away. That is not how we do things where I come from. But I realize that if I run after them now, I will only make things worse. A conundrum, indeed, when my heart tells me to go but my brain tells me to stay.

My legs feel as if they will no longer support my weight and I fall into the nearest pew. From there I slide to my knees, my hands pressed together in heartfelt supplication as I pray to the Creator. Please, God, help me. I am lost without him. How can I reach him and make him know who he is and who we are? Please help me to help him so that we can become us once again.

I raise my eyes toward one of the candles near the front of the church and as I watch it seems to flicker brightly; a warmth suffuses me. I have my answer and I am content. My faith sustains me, my belief in God and in Vittorio and myself.

How do you mend a broken heart? By talking to God.

Slowly I make my way from the church. I will return here, of that I have no doubt. At least now I know where he is. And I suspect I will have to talk to him when his new protector is not around. I can be patient, now that I have found him. At least, I hope I can.

There is no sign of Vittorio, or of the preacher’s daughter. I had expected no less. My return to the hotel is at a much slower pace; I have much to think about. First and foremost, though, I have an overwhelming desire to speak with my father, to find comfort in his love, and to avail myself of his wisdom.

He will know what to do. At least I hope so.

As I approach the hotel, I get the sudden feeling that I am being watched. The sensation crawls along my spine and into my neck most unpleasantly. I glance around me. People go about their business, paying no attention to me. But then I spot him. The sheriff. Apparently his office is just across the street from the hotel. He stands in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. How lovely. He stares at me. From this distance, his expression is unreadable, but his stance is decidedly hostile.

I cannot worry about him right now.

As I head up the hotel stairs, I meet my father, coming down. Worry creases his face, and he breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing me.

“Doll, they told me you ran out. Are you all right? Is something wrong?”

Without thinking, I fall into my father’s loving arms and bury my face against his chest, fighting the sobs that wrack my body. I had meant to hold it all in, to be calm and rational, but my broken heart has betrayed me, and I am a child again within my father’s embrace.

He walks me up the stairs, carefully, to our room, and sits me onto the bed, without a word. As I continue to cry, he strokes my back. I know the others are there, I can feel their presence, hear murmurs, but no one interrupts us.

At last, I push back, sniffling as I attempt to breathe. Vati takes his handkerchief and wipes my face, then hands it to me so I can blow my nose. I take a deep breath, attempt to calm myself, and begin.

“I found Vittorio...”

Vati looks confused. I can’t blame him, since obviously Vittorio is not with me.

“He... he does not know me.” The words do not wish to come out; they are most painful to speak. And yet for the moment they are the truth.

I explain about the pennyfarthing and the small boy and the church, and what I found there. Vati listens without interruption. The others maintain a respectful distance, but I know they are listening as well. Also without comment.

When I am done with my tale I sigh, a huge tremor that shakes my entire body. Vati seats himself beside me on the bed, and pulls me against him. For a few moments, nothing is said. I can feel the rhythmic thump of his heart as it beats inside his chest, the strength of his arms as they envelop me.  

Charlie kneels at my feet. He takes my hand in his and I look down into his expressive eyes. “Do not be sad, Doll, Vittorio still loves you. He just does not remember.”

I believe that, I truly do. It is the only thing that holds me together. And yet it is still small consolation after having searched for him so long, and no substitute at all for the happy ending I had envisioned once I found him.

“Vati.” I turn my face toward my father, looking for a ray of hope. “Do you think... I mean, since magic took him from me, can magic bring him back?”

I know he wants to reassure me that everything will be all right. I am his child, and it is natural that he wish to protect me. But he also does not believe in lying, or offering false hope. This I know, for my father is most honorable man.

“I don’t know,” he says at last. “Perhaps. Myron and I will certainly try.”

“Yes, we will,” Myron affirms.

A sudden noise from outside diverts our attention. Myron and Charlie race to the window, while Mary hoots.

Someone seems to be screaming.

“Zed’s dead! Zed’s dead!”

end (for now)

Now go check out my fellow Briefers and see what's up with them!

 Nephylim  

Jon Keys

JC Wallace

MA Church

Chris T. Kat

Lily Sawyer 

LM Brown

Raine O’Tierney

Rob Colton

Cia Nordwell

 Victoria Adams

Michael Mandrake

Andrew Q. Gordon

Lily Velden

Renee Stevens

Elyzabeth VaLey 

Tali Spencer

Guest Blogger: Alicia Nordwell

Please welcome my good friend and fellow author and wonderful beta Alicia Nordwell. She's going to have

some fun with pictures! And she's going to give us a peek at her newest release, Protecting Bear. Alicia, go ahead, I made us some snack. I'll just run get those.  And don't forget to read to the end of the post to find out about the giveaway!

First off, as always, I have to thank my host! Julie has taught me a lot about being a published author, so I owe her a huge amount of thanks. So, thanks! Okay, so where do red-blooded women go for inspiration when they want to visualize their characters? Well… a lot of the time they’re already in my head, but other times I go to pictures. These guys are pretty close to what I’d love you to visualize when you read the story? Ready for some fun? *winks*

There’s a reason why Bear captured Kameron’s attention so thoroughly. I’m not sure if I want him to turn around or just take them OFF!

But who can blame Bear to taking Kameron up on his offer of a date? Talk about piercing eyes. Yum!

Who wears the tattoo…? Ink is so sexy!

And who is this? Where does he come in? You wanna know? You’ll have to read Protecting Bear to find out!

*fans self* So HOT!! So I thought I’d keep the steamy going with a new excerpt! You know how before everyone complained because I didn’t show the intimacy between Bear and Kameron? Well that got fixed. Enjoy!

Excerpt:

“I’m taking you to bed.”

“But I¾”

Kameron wrapped one arm around Bear's neck, tangling his fingers in the back of his hair. He leaned down. “You're ready for a break.”

“I am?” Bear didn't say anything else. He couldn't. Kameron took possession of his mouth. Bear was gasping for breath by the time Kameron let him up for air.

“See?” Kameron slid his hand down and stroked the outline of Bear's cock. “I knew you were ready for a break.” Guiding them around the couch and down the hall, Kameron kept Bear walking backward all the way to the bed. Getting Bear's shirt off took some careful work, but Kameron took advantage of the slow task to touch every inch of Bear's skin. “Lay down.”

He let Bear maneuver onto the bed. Kameron stripped in a rush, unable to wait. He groaned in relief when he unzipped his pants and tugged his underwear down with them, kicking them off to the side.

Bear licked his lips.

Kameron smirked. He tugged on Bear's pants, exposing his colorful underwear. Bear was wearing a tiny pair of briefs that did nothing to hide the way his cock was leaking. The light blue fabric had a big wet spot over the engorged head. Bear tried to shove his underwear down but Kameron captured his hand. He pushed it down to the bed, then climbed up and knelt between Bear's legs.

Bear smelled like sandalwood soap. His muscles rippled in his stomach when Kameron stroked them. “Damn, you just … you're so hot.” Kameron couldn't wait anymore. He bent forward and nipped at Bear's underwear, biting with his lips at the hidden flesh. Bear whimpered, then thrust his hips up when Kameron sucked on the wet patch over the head of his cock.

“Oh, God.” Bear squirmed.

“Nope, just you and me.” Kameron slid Bear's underwear down and flung them off the bed. He scooted up Bear's body to kiss him again. Their cocks rubbed together, and Kameron grunted. God that felt good, almost too good. Bear thrust against him, and Kameron pinned his lower body with his hips. He was careful not to put any weight on Bear's chest. “Not yet.”

Bear whimpered. Kameron cradled Bear's face, stroking his jaw. “I want to be inside you.”

“Fucking finally.” Bear reached under his pillow and pulled out a condom and lube.

Kameron started laughing.

He rolled over onto his side so he wouldn't crush Bear. “You're amazing.”

Bear pushed him onto his back. “Of course I am.”

…Trust me, the scene only gets hotter! Just can’t wait? You can pick up a copy of Protecting Bear for just $2.99 at the following eBook sites.

Amazon     All Romance eBooks      Smashwords

Remember to comment for your chance to win the $10 Amazon gift card. The winner will be chosen randomly from the commenters and then announced on the final stop back at my blog on January 20^th. Don’t forget to leave your email, or I won’t be able to contact you.

Wow, that was hot, Alicia! Thanks for stopping by, come back any time. And feel free to bring those guys with you lol

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie