#Reminder – #HugeSale – #AlertTheMedia – #WakeRobinRidge1 – #Excerpt

February 4, 2022 / Marcia / 8 Comments

Just a reminder that there are only ten days left for my Happy Valentine’s Day $.99 Sale. ALL my books are on sale until February 14, so I hope you’ll take take advantage of this low price to check one or two of them out. And please, by all means feel free to spread the word, anywhere you’d like. Some of you might want to consider donning a sandwich board and taking to the sidewalks. Okay. Maybe not. But I do hope you’ll share the news with your friends and neighbors and anyone else you can accost without being arrested. 😂 As for me, I’ll be busy sharing excerpts from several of my books now and then, just to whet your appetites.

Today’s excerpt comes from the book that started it all, Wake-Robin Ridge Book 1, and is one of the creepier moments in the story. (It can’t ALL be flowers and romance, after all. At least not in this book.😁 )

EXCERPT FROM WAKE-ROBIN RIDGE

SUNDAY, JANUARY 24, 1965
WAKE-ROBIN RIDGE, NC

AT EXACTLY 2:00 A.M., Ruth’s eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp, momentarily confused at finding herself on the couch with General Penny snuggled against her. Shivering, she noticed the dying embers glowing faintly from the cooling hearth, but the only sound she heard was the thudding of her own heartbeat. She wondered what had awakened her, but a glance at Penny showed the little dog was still sound asleep, so she told herself one of her bad dreams must have roused her, and nothing more.

Huddled under the afghan, she was trying to muster the energy to grab Penny and head upstairs to her bedroom, when a wash of light spread over the back wall of the living room. For a split second, she thought it might be from Frank’s headlights, but she discounted that idea, knowing Frank would never come up here, unannounced, in the middle of the night. She stared in growing horror and shock as the light began a slow crawl around the room, sliding in oily silence from wall to wall. Hand at her throat, Ruth rose from the couch to watch the pale, greasy-looking light disappear toward the back of the cabin, then reappear on the other side of the room seconds later.

I’m still dreamin’. This isn’t real. It isn’t real. It can’t be!

She watched, dry-mouthed and trembling as the light came to a stop. It remained smeared on the back wall in a nasty, sickly stain, only vaguely resembling the clean, sharp gleam of real headlights.

The faint rumble of an engine insinuated its way into the quiet of the night, a low throb, barely loud enough to be heard. She spun to face the front door, eyes wide with disbelief. Growing in volume, the sound projected a sense of bone-chilling menace that brought Penny scrambling to his feet, growling in fear. Ruth stood frozen, unable to make sense of what she was hearing, but too afraid to look out the window. The muted snick of a car door opening sent Penny into a frenzy of shrill barking, yet Ruth stood in the center of the room, paralyzed, fear rising thick and clotted within her.

The rumbling vibration of the engine faded away, and was replaced by another noise coming from right outside the living room window. Creak-creak. Pause. Creak-creak. Pause.

Ruth gasped. It was unmistakably the sound of the porch swing moving back and forth in a deliberate, steady rhythm, slowly and softly at first, then growing louder and faster.

Creak-creak. Pause. Creak-creak. Pause. Creak-creak. Creak-Creak. Creak-Creak-Creak-Creak-Creak.

Louder and louder, the harsh sound of metal grating on metal grew more shrill and horrifying every second, until it became a mind-shattering shriek that rent the night. Penny’s barking took on an insane pitch, and Ruth clapped her hands over her ears, screaming in mindless terror.

And then—nothing. Silence, complete and absolute. A dead hush settled over the room, muting even the sounds of Penny’s miserable whimpers and Ruth’s ragged breathing.

Shaking from head to toe, and filled with a nauseating horror she’d never imagined existed, Ruth wanted to believe whatever had just happened was finished. The sickly, greenish light began to fade from her wall, and she whispered a frantic prayer. “Oh dear God, please let it be over! Please, please let it be over, let it be over.” She choked back a sob as she turned to comfort Penny, and then she heard it—an answering whisper as cold and evil as damnation itself.

“Ruuuthie … I’m hoo-oome”.

Ruth Winn dropped to the floor in a dead faint.

BUY WAKE-ROBIN RIDGE HERE

I hope this sparks your interest in checking out WRR, if you haven’t already done so. And thanks so much for stopping by today and for all your support!

Time for Some #BlatantSelf-promotion a/k/a #TootingMyOwnHorn #Excerpt

November 19, 2021 / Marcia / 34 Comments

It’s Friday, and I have no guests today, not even Granny, so I decided to try something I seldom do: a bit of bold and blatant self-promotion. Today’s horn tooting features one of the poems from my book, Summer Magic. This time of year always makes me a bit emotional, hence the poem I’ve chosen. Hope you enjoy it!

Promises

Up we climb again, My Love
On yet another autumn day,
Our trail meandering, higher, higher,
Amidst October’s blazing glory.
The pines are dressed in mossy green,
And glowing maples shed flaming leaves,
Keeping us brilliant company
Under the blue silk sky.

Remember our first time
Climbing this trail?
My God, we were young, and
Filled with each other!
You held my hand, and urged me on.
Wait until we’re there, you said,
Just wait! You’ll see it’s worth the climb.
And it was, My Love.
Oh, it was!

We stood at the top,
Locked in warm embrace,
Our hair, whipped by the wind,
Our hearts triumphant.
Gazing across the rolling hills,
Your radiant face was lit with pride,
As though you had created
All this wonder
Just for me—a wedding gift!
A thing of splendor our hearts shared,
Over and over, every autumn.
Our place. Ours alone,
As though no other lovers
Ever climbed this way.

Years and years ago, it was,
That first ecstatic, heavenward climb.
Yet here we are once more, My Own,
Returning to this ancient spot.
Proving some things do prevail—
Deepest faith, and promises
Sworn in love
Abide,
Just as the land before us does,
Rolling on into eternity.

Take me back, you begged,
Back to our mountain.
I will, My Love, I swear it.
I will.
And here we are.
I’ll keep my promise. No tears today.
But oh, for another smile, another kiss!
Another chance to see your face,
To touch your cheek, to hold your hand.
Gone by so fast, like wind-blown leaves,
All our precious hours and minutes!
But didn’t we use them well, My Love?
Oh, yes! We used them well!

My heart in pieces, I let you go,
And watch as you drift away,
A swirl of grey against the blue.
Your soul soaring, riding the wind,
Then settling lower over the valley,
As you become one
With our hills.
And someday, My Love, my only love,
You’ll feel my soul come drifting down,
To rest with yours once more,
Part of the earth in this sacred place,
You and I, together.
Forever.

Thanks for your indulgence today, but brace yourself. I might do something similar again from time to time. Turns out tooting your own horn now and then is fun!

Download Summer Magic HERE

#ReblogAlert – Swamp Ghosts featured on Smorgasbord Today!

May 3, 2021 / Marcia / 17 Comments

Today, I’m absolutely thrilled to be part of one of Sally Cronin’s newest features, Sharing an Excerpt from a Previous Book. I hope you’ll stop by and check out the excerpt I’ve chosen, part of the Prologue from my second book, Swamp Ghosts. It was a trip to write this scene, and I hope you’ll enjoy it. But rest assured, the entire book is not a walk through this guy’s mind. It’s an introduction to a small, Florida town, filled with mostly friendly, though often eccentric folks, who have no idea what’s lurking in the shadows. And oh, yeah, there IS a love story, too, as the wonderful review Sally included mentions.

Hope you’ll head over and see for yourself, and will remember that this is an offer open to all, as well. Sally includes instructions on how to submit YOUR own excerpt from an older book, and you really should take advantage of the opportunity.

My heartfelt thanks to Sally for all she does to help us promote our work! And to see what’s afoot in Riverbend via her wonderful post, click HERE.

THANKS!

Sharing an excerpt & 0.99c SALE – THE PRINCE’S MAN by Deborah Jay

May 21, 2020 / Deborah Jay / Debby Lush / 5 Comments

Yesterday Marcia shared my review of THE LIGHT from Sally Cronin’s wonderful Smorgasbord blog.

Today, I’m sharing an extract on that same blog from book #1 of my Five Kingdoms fantasy series, THE PRINCE’S MAN, while it’s on sale for 0.99c/0.99p until May 28th

Smorgasbord Cafe and Bookstore – Share an Extract -#Specialoffer #Fantasy The Prince’s Man by Deborah Jay

Deborah Jay shares an extract from her epic fantasy The Prince’s Man which is Book One in The Five Kingdoms Series. The book is on offer for just this week at 99c/99p

About The Prince’s Man

Think ‘James Bond meets Lord of the Rings’

Rustam Chalice, dance tutor, gigolo and spy, loves his life just the way it is. So when the kingdom he serves is threatened from within, he leaps into action. Only trouble is, the spy master, Prince Hal, teams him up with an untouchable aristocratic assassin who despises him. And to make matters worse, she’s the most beautiful woman in the Five Kingdoms.
Plunged into a desperate journey over the mountains, the mismatched pair struggle to survive deadly wildlife, the machinations of a spiteful god – and each other.
They must also keep alive a sickly elf they need as a political pawn. But when the elf reveals that Rustam has magic of his own, he is forced to question his identity, his sanity and worst, his loyalty to his prince.
For in Tyr-en, all magic users are put to death.
Award winning novel, THE PRINCE’S MAN is a sweeping tale of spies and deadly politics, inter-species mistrust and magic phobia, with an underlying thread of romance.

An extract from the book.

“Remove your hand, Chalice,” Risada hissed, “unless you want to lose it.”
Rustam released her, and lay back with a sigh. “Don’t you ever get tired of making threats? Or is it the only form of conversation you know?”
“It seems to be the only sort you respect. And I hardly think the kind you’re used to is appropriate outside the bedchamber.”

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https://books2read.com/PrincesMan

#GuestAuthor – #Promo – #Excerpt – Eventide by Mae Clair

February 6, 2020January 27, 2020 / Marcia / 60 Comments

Great news! Mae Clair is back with more on her wonderful Hode’s Hill series. Today, she’ll be sharing a bit about the third book in the series, Eventide, including a super excerpt for your reading pleasure. As always, let’s take a look at the fantastic cover for this one. Pretty great, huh?

And now, I’ll turn this post over to Mae. You’ll love what she has to say!

~~~

Many thanks for hosting me again, Marcia. I was here yesterday with the announcement that my publisher has discounted my Hode’s Hill series for the month of February. End of Day and Eventide are currently priced at .99c each. Later this month, you can pick up book one, Cusp of Night FREE from the 20^th through the 25^th.

That means you can purchase all three supernatural suspense mysteries for a total of $1.98, a hard deal to beat. Each book features dual timelines—a mystery in the past, and a mystery in the present—which tie together at the close of each novel.

Today, I want to take a closer look at book 3, Eventide. If you like ghost fiction, I think you’ll enjoy this story.

Three years after the murder of her husband, Madison Hewitt is putting her life back together. She purchases an old home several miles from town along a creek. After a short time in the house, Madison begins to suspect the property is haunted. She asks her sister’s boyfriend, Dante DeLuca to go through the home and give her his impressions. Sensitive to the spirit world, Dante is able to read “folk memories.” In the scene below, Dante, along with Madison’s sister, Jillian, explain what constitutes a folk memory.

~ooOOoo~

Madison glanced up from her cell phone when Blizzard trotted into the drawing room, trailed by Dante. She’d missed a call, but the number was one she didn’t recognize. Most likely, a robocall or junk solicitation. Edgy since Dante left to investigate, she dropped the phone onto an end table.

“Well? Anything?” She leaned forward in her chair, a monstrous claw-footed thing left by the previous owner.

“Not much on this level.” Dante settled on the sofa beside Jillian. “I picked up an audible manifestation earlier in this room. A man and woman arguing.”

So she had heard something. “Could you tell what they were saying?”

“No, the incident was too quick, but the tone was unmistakable.”

“What about the basement?” She thought of the old cistern.

“There’s some kind of residual taint, but it doesn’t feel spiritual. You’ve also got two outside areas with activity.”

“Folk memories?” Jillian asked.

“These are different.”

Madison looked between them. “I’m not sure I understand what creates a folk memory.”

“Think of it as a moment frozen in time.” Dante shifted, allowing Blizzard to settle on the floor near Jillian. “Something happens—usually horrific—and the incident replays over and over.”

“You mean ghosts recreate it?”

“No. It’s the memory of the event itself, imprinted in the place where the tragedy occurred. Like a TV episode on constant rerun.”

“No one is really there,” Jillian added.

Dante spread his hands. “Anyone receptive to the spirit world can usually sense folk memories.”

Her stomach tightened. She regretted the slice of key lime pie she’d had for dessert. “Do you mean…” It was hard to force the words. To dial her mind back to the most heinous night of her life. “Boyd’s death could have left a folk memory in our house at Mill Street?”

“Yeah.” Dante blew out a breath. “It probably did. But it takes time for the residue to become visible. Decades, sometimes centuries. There’s no rhyme or reason why some atrocities leave imprints and others don’t.”

She felt the blood drain from her face.

Jillian stretched forward to clasp her hand. “Put Boyd’s death out of your head, Maddy. That’s not why Dante is here.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes, tears burning the lids. “But the thought of his murder playing over and over…”

“No one will see it, Madison.” Dante’s assertion left no room for argument. “You need to stop seeing it.”

She nodded. Snatched a tissue from a box on the end table. It was time to refocus. “You said you felt impressions outside.” She dabbed her eyes.

“The graveyard?” Jillian guessed.

Dante shook his head. “Near the veranda below Madison’s bedroom, and along the creek bank. The veranda is covered in cold spots.”

Madison crumpled the tissue in her hand. “What about the creek?”

“That was different. I’m convinced something bad happened there. Not enough to create a folk memory, but enough to leave a hostile mark.”

~ooOOoo~

BLURB:

The darkness is coming . . .

The old house near Hode’s Hill, Pennsylvania is a place for Madison Hewitt to start over—to put the trauma of her husband’s murder, and her subsequent breakdown, behind her. She isn’t bothered by a burial plot on the property, or the mysterious, sealed cistern in the basement. Not at first. Even the presence of cold spots and strange odors could be fabrications of her still troubled mind. But how to explain her slashed tires, or the ominous messages that grow ever more threatening?

Convinced the answer lies in the past, Madison delves into the history of the home’s original owners, only to discover the origin of a powerful evil. An entity that may be connected to a series of gruesome attacks that have left police baffled. No matter where she turns—past or present—terror lingers just a step away, spurred on by a twisted obsession that can only be satisfied through death…