Sunday, December 29, 2013


While it's not good to dwell on the past, occasionally I need to take stock of where I am and where I've been in order to see where I'm going. This has been a difficult year in many ways, but good things have happened too. Fortunately, the good outweighs the bad. At least, I choose to believe that.

I lost a good friend, a cat, and a beloved niece this year. Losing Rachel, my friend, was hard, but she was elderly and had told me that she had prepared her mind and soul to face death. She looked forward to being with her husband Jim again. The cat Bailey's demise was unexpected. She was not fond of people and would let no one but me pet her, and then only seldom. Perhaps she is now happier frolicking with other pets over the Rainbow Bridge.

Joyce in Portugal
with her sister and mother
(unknown woman behind her)

Even though my niece, Joyce Lifquist, was older than me by a number of years, her loss to rapid cancer was unexpected and a shock. I still can't quite make myself believe she is gone. Her memorial service is January 4th in her hometown of Bakersfield, California. She was a wonderful person, and the eldest of my nieces and nephews. Her parents and siblings made the Cleavers, Father Knows Best, and the Brady bunch look like grumpy slackers. My half-sister and her husband and their two daughters and one son were absolutely the perfect family, an opinion shared by most people who knew them. They helped so many people--not only in our family, but friends as well. Anyone who needed a place to stay while looking for work or looking for a place to live went to their home. As far as I know, they never turned anyone away. When I was small and loved to draw and color, all the girls I drew looked and dressed as much like Joyce and her sister as I could make them. The two were always my ideals and I have looked up to and admired them all my life. I still do!

Our new-to-us house in Hurst TX
Hero and I way downsized this year. That sounds so much easier than it has proved to be. We moved to the perfect size house for us, but we are still having trouble fitting what we want to save inside our new-to-us house. The home was built in 1965 and is somewhat dated. We like it, but have a few changes we'd like to make when we get to them. We absolutely love living here and know we will eventually get everything arranged to suit us.

Also on the plus side, this year brought prizes and awards for my writing. BRAZOS BRIDE won first place as well as Best Overall Book in the Winter Rose Contest. HIGH STAKES BRIDE won second place. WattPad gave me an award as one of the authors with the most followers. Smashwords founder Mark Coker included BRAZOS BRIDE on the jump drive he gave to every person who attended the Romance Writers of America's National Convention in July. (I wonder if anyone who received it actually read it?) I published BLUEBONNET BRIDE, TABITHA'S JOURNEY, THE MOST UNSUITABLE COURTSHIP, and included THE TEXAN'S IRISH BRIDE in the boxed set NINE WAYS TO FALL IN LOVE with eight of my friends. I also boxed the first three MEN OF STONE MOUNTAIN books into one discounted set.

A new venture for me is audio books. BRAZOS BRIDE is available at, Amazon, and iTunes. Very soon, HIGH STAKES BRIDE will also be available at those sites.

Max in a quiet moment in Hero's lap
We have a new cat, Max. He's a Manx cat. If you read my blog earlier this month, you know he is also full of mischief. He is a joy and likes to sit beside my keyboard and watch the cursor on the screen. He especially loves Facebook. He's made friends with our 7-year-old tuxedo cat Sebastian and with our little black Shih Tzu Webster. Sebastian is a bit jealous but is coming around. Of course, Hero and I adore Max. Even Darling Daughter 1, who is convinced dogs rule, fell under Max's spell at Christmas.

My critique partners are the best. They encourage me as well as catch my goofs. They make me a better writer and keep me sane. Well, mostly sane. These three women and I meet at a restaurant about every two weeks to critique, eat, laugh, and share what amounts to group therapy. Laughter is a very good medicine!

My younger brother and his wife visited from North Carolina. We hope they can move near us in the next year so we can all be together at Christmas 2014. Their widowed daughter lives with them, and will make the move with them when/if they can manage it.

My family encourages and sustains me. Hero is exactly that, my hero. He does everything he can to facilitate my writing and enjoying life. Both our daughters do their part to encourage me and help me as well. I am very blessed!

I hope that as you look back on this year, you count blessing after blessing. Hold the good things close and let the bad slide away. 2014 approaches. Who knows what wonderful things lie in store?

Thanks for stopping by!

Saturday, December 21, 2013


To each of you who purchased my books this year, thank you. I hope reading them gave you as much joy as writing them brought me. 

To each of you who purchased one of my audio books, thank you. 

This special season, may you find peace in your heart, joy in your life, and fellowship with those you love.

May good memories of those lost this and previous years comfort you. 

From our house to yours, we wish you the Merriest of Christmases. 

Blessings to each of you!

Thanks for reading!

Graphics courtesy of Dover Publications.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013


First Position
by Prescott Lane


Emory faces life’s challenges at the one place that’s never failed her, the ballet barre.  But even the barre can’t steady her when fate brings her face-to-face with her old college flame, Mason, who’s hoping to return to the NFL after a career-threatening injury.  Before they can surrender to their sexual desires and find salvation in each other’s arms, they need to come to terms with their past.  Mason must confront the demons that have set him on a path of self-destruction, while Emory must decide whether to keep her painful secrets locked away, or expose them and risk losing the love of her life.  But nothing can prepare Mason for what Emory has kept hidden, or the possibility that he himself may be to blame for the very secrets she keeps – and why they continue to haunt her.


“So, little miss, want to fess up to what you were doing yesterday?”

“Well, it depends,” she said.  “Before or after, I threw my half-naked body at Mason?”

Wesley dropped the knife.  “Excuse me?”

Tomás raised his eyebrows and gave her a smile. 

“It was just for a little while,” she said playfully.

“How little?” Wesley munched on his biscuit.

“Not too long.”

“How naked?”

“I told you -- about half.”

“Which half?”

“A little of both.”

“Both breasts?”

“No.  Top and bottom.”

“Is that so?”  Wesley took a sip of his drink, thoughtfully considering what she’d said, like he was some kind of philosopher.  “Any action?”

“I tried.”

“How hard?”

“Pretty hard.”

“Was he?”  Wesley grinned at Tomás and took another bite of his biscuit.

“Shut up,” she said blushing.  “We decided it was best to take things slow.”

“That’s too bad,” Wesley said, and Tomás slapped his arm.  “In all seriousness, I’m happy for you.”

“Me too,” Emory said, rising from the table with her and Tomás’ plates. 

Wesley grabbed her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “Did you tell him?”  Emory shook her head walking to the sink, and Wesley shot her a disapproving look.  Tomás eyed them both curiously.  “He deserves to know!”

Tomás mouthed to Wesley, “Know what?”  Wesley shook his head that it was none of his business.

“No lectures, Wesley.”  She scrubbed the plates.  “Let me enjoy myself and Mason before I ruin it.” 

“You need to stop running,” Wesley said.

“I’ll stop when you stop.”

Prescott will be awarding an eBook copy of "First Position" to 5 randomly drawn commenters during the tour.

Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:   

Author, Prescott Lane

Prescott Lane is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College in 1997 with a degree in sociology. She went on to Tulane University to receive her MSW in 1998, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She currently resides in New Orleans with her husband and two children.

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Monday, December 16, 2013


By Sherry Gloag

Holidays are always fun. They always make you feel good. They are always something to look forward to.



There are so many reasons why some people dread upcoming holidays, it would be impossible to list them all here. And Christmas is no different. Many of these reasons stem from bad experiences and, or bad memories. Add in the increasing commercialism of the slightest connection to a holiday, then Christmas often tops the list of those who hate the way a sacred holiday has been hi-jacked.

In NAME THE DAY, Samantha Brown’s dislike of Christmas combines all three. Childhood experiences, a multitude of other memories and a loathing of commercialism, even though she works flat out to complete commissions for her clients in time for the holiday.

Chuck an arrogant hero into the mix and sparks are going to fly, and Samantha’s temper, already on a short fuse, it doesn’t take much to light the touch paper this year.

Successful Rafael Santini believes in family and will do anything to ensure members of his family are always provided for, supported in times of grief, stress and betrayal, so when he meets Samantha Brown all his protective instincts go into overdrive.

As does his heart.

For many people there is no happy ever after when the holidays are over. For most the ghosts of their past haunts them until the memories die away for another year and life settles down again. While for other those memories become props, companions to hold on to because it seems there is no other way to survive. And sometimes life simply throws an ugly curve ball which appears to have no solution.

Samantha Brown appeared out of the blue when I sat down to write NAME THE DAY, and we went many rounds together as her story unfolded. Her bottom line?

While for most holidays are a time for joy, families and celebration, there are those who grin and bear it because they don’t want to spoil the fun for others. This generosity of spirit is a lonely place. And in Samantha’s case it took courage to step out of her familiar attitude toward Christmas and move on. To grow, and find happiness.

I’d like to thank Caroline for inviting me to exchange blog visits today, and to wish everyone a holiday they can enjoy. Fine Caroline at my blog, The Heart of Romance, at this link


Renowned portrait artist, Samantha Brown is through with men. After dealing with an overbearing father and cheating ex-fiance, Samantha is not in the market for romance, of any kind. Give her a blank canvas, some paints and brushes and she’s in charge of her life. There was no room in her life for love, so why did she find herself giving in to Rafael Santini’s outrageous demand that she paint his portrait?

Satisfied with his upcoming marriage of convenience Rafael Santini isn’t in the market for love. So, how come he finds the pint-sized artist stirring up emotions he didn’t have time for?

An accident forces Rafael to re-evaluate his life and wonder whether he can teach Samantha the art of love.


Why couldn’t the stubborn man get it? She wasn’t giving him any favours at the expense of her other clients. In his case, money would not talk. Almost all her clients were well-heeled, but most understood the time restraints. After all, as she told each person, including Rafael Santini, who contracted a commission they wouldn’t want her to rush their painting and offer them a sub-standard product, would they?
“Give me the names of your clients and I will arrange to exchange places in your queue.” His unequivocal belief pulsed across the airwaves. Did the stupid man expect her to break the confidences of her clients?
“Tell me, Mr. Santini,” she asked in her most dulcet tone, “if I asked for a list of your clients would you hand them over, simply because I wanted something?”
“Don’t be stupid woman. It’s not the same thing at all. I’m a businessman.”
Would someone please save me from stupid arrogant men, Samantha offered in silent plea to the ether without expecting any response.
“I may not deal in electronics and communications systems, or equipment for the world of espionage, secret agents, and private investigators, Mr. Santini, but I do maintain a strict code of integrity and honour and customer confidentiality.”
“Why would you need confidentiality to daub a few colours on a piece of paper?”
Is this guy for real? Does he think insults and condemnation will get him what he wants?
“Let me get this straight. You want my agreement to let you queue jump the rest of my clients, who, incidentally have all signed contracts to be here on specified dates at specific times, and then you will be quite happy for me to go around publicising the fact you are not only having your portrait done, but that you bullied, harassed and threatened me into agreeing to your terms? I don’t think so. Not to mention that in many cases the commission is usually a gift for someone special and total secrecy is not only expected it is essential.”
The silence at the other end of the phone was almost deafening.

Buy Links for NAME THE DAY:


Best-selling author, Sherry Gloag is a transplanted Scot now living in the beautiful coastal countryside of Norfolk, England.  She considers the surrounding countryside as extension of her own garden, to which she escapes when she needs "thinking time" and solitude to work out the plots for her next novel.  While out walking she enjoys talking to her characters, as long as there are no other walkers close by.

Apart from writing, Sherry enjoys gardening, walking, and reading. She cheerfully admits her books tend to take over most of the shelf and floor space in her workroom-cum-office.  She also finds crystal craft work therapeutic.  Sherry loves to hear from her readers.

Amazon author page:

Thanks to Sherry for sharing with us today, and thanks to readers for stopping by!

Friday, December 13, 2013


Don’t saw “Awwww”yet. This is a photo of our new kitten, Max. He is half Manx and half Siamese and all mischief. Okay, so he's sweet and cuddly most of the time. But let me tell you what he did to me a few days ago.

Max asleep in my favorite family room chair.

We live in a home with a sliding glass door from the family room to the patio. The previous owners had left a cut off broomstick they used in the runner for the door, and also a standard pin at the top to prevent the door being opened by a burglar. Sort of like a belt and suspenders. ☺ Plus they had a burglar alarm.

Hero had gone fishing for a much needed break. That meant that I was relegated to taking our dog for a walk in the backyard. Hero usually does this as I have that wonky ankle that causes me to sometimes fall on uneven ground. We have no fence on two sides, so little Webster has to be walked on a leash.

Now I don’t want to alarm readers, but writers sometimes work in jammies or clothes that should have long ago hit the rag bag. On this day I happen to be planning to clean the showers, so I was wearing my comfy Liz Claiborne knit pants that have bleach and other mysterious stains on them. They are old, but unbelievably comfortable and warm. That Liz knows her clothing business.

I also have horrid, fine hair with a cowlick. Until I shampoo and dry my hair, I wake up looking like Lyle Lovett on a bad hair day. By the way, I love Lyle, so don’t think I’m slamming him! But picture Lyle with highlighted hair, chubby cheeks and glasses. Scary, right? That’s how I looked this fateful day.

Just for good measure, I grabbed my husband’s sweatshirt before I went out with Webster. We took a quick tour of the back yard and came back. Uh oh! The door was locked. Inside, looking sweet as can be through the glass, stood Max. From this point forward, Max will be referred to as Max the Menace. 

Yes, even without opposable thumbs, Max the Menace had rolled the broomstick into the groove, blocking the door from openig.

There I stood with no phone, no keys, and no way to get inside my house. I sat down in a patio rocker, but decided it was simply too long to wait for Hero’s return. I went next door to one of the few neighbors I’d met since we moved here. She wasn’t home. Her yard man had just finished, so I borrowed his phone. Darling Daughter 2 wasn’t home and I couldn’t remember her cell phone number or Hero’s. I have them in my cell phone and depend on that to contact them. Wrong, so wrong and did I ever feel stupid.

I trudged across the street to a neighbor who had phoned me to introduce herself. Oh, man, she turned out to be a very, very formal person. She invited me in, but I explained I had Webster. She told me to bring him. As I sat down to use her phone, she mentioned that her family visitors over Thanksgiving had to use crates for their dogs because she simply couldn’t have dogs wandering through the house. Webster’s a good dog, but I shortened his leash so he couldn’t move more than two feet from me. Our daughter still wasn’t home, so I left another couple of messages.

This woman looked as if she were from a magazine ad for the perfectly groomed grandmother. Jeans, yes, but starched and pressed with a knife-sharp crease down the front. After a few minutes, with a sniff toward my personal hairstyle (or lack of one), she mentioned that she had a hairdresser’s appointment. Her hair looked perfect to me. I really wanted to disappear into the floor, but I thanked her and trudged back home to wait on my patio until help arrived in the form of Hero or our daughter.

By this time, the sun had come out so I was not uncomfortable. Max came to the door several times to check on us. Or maybe he was laughing at us. I may have mentioned that I love our back yard. Lots of large trees, birds, squirrels, and butterflies entertained me in a park-like setting. Plus, writers always have their characters with them and can use down time plotting a book. In fact, we immerse ourselves in our stories and lose touch with the real world around us. I enjoyed the day so much that I didn’t hear the sound of Hero and Darling Daughter 2 driving up out front.

Max the Menace snoozing in Hero's lap.
Animals always love Hero. (So do I.)

Eventually, DD2 looked out the door and said, “Dad, here she is,” as she opened the door. Webster and I went inside. 

Hero was frantic. “Where were you?” he asked, which I thought a somewhat odd question considering my plight.

I gestured to the patio. “Right there.”

"We've been looking everywhere for you."

Turns out they had arrived at the same time and DD2 went to the neighbors while Hero checked the house. He had looked through the house twice, apparently forgetting I. Was. Locked. Out!

“Didn’t you notice Webster wasn’t in the house?” I asked.

Hero said, “I wasn’t looking for him, I was looking for you.” Okay, he was a bit overexcited. Frenzied, maybe.

When Hero is worried about me or our daughters, he is like a steam roller. No, in this instance he’s not like James Taylor’s version of a steam roller. More like a speeding locomotive heading onto the downed bridge and dropping into the gorge below. Hero was convinced I had fallen or some other mishap had kept me from home. As if being locked out wasn't mishap enough.

He also insisted I was irresponsible for leaving the house without my keys and cell phone. I'll give him that one.

But one week later, guess what happened? Yep, Max the Menace struck again. Hero was locked out, but by this time the weather was frigid and he hadn’t taken the precaution of a sweatshirt. Fortunately, I was home and let him in. 

Did I say “I told you so”? I might have mentioned the words "irresponsible," "car keys," and "cell phone." I most certainly gave him “The Look.” You know the power "The Look" carries, right?

Max the Menace wondering what all the fuss was about.
After all, he was fine.
Broomstick is visible on floor right.

Thanks for stopping by!

Wednesday, December 11, 2013


by Noelle Adams, Samantha Chase, Rachel Curtis and Zoe York


From fake relationships to secret affairs to best friends falling in love, everything changes at Christmas.

This holiday bundle includes five stories, from steamy to sweet, including two new, exclusive stories from New York Times bestselling authors.

HOLIDAY HEAT by Noelle Adams - After being hit with heartbreaking tragedy, Carrie has thrown herself into a hot, secret relationship with Matt. With Christmas approaching, she realizes she might want even more from her sexy, damaged artist, but the boundaries around their relationship make anything deeper than sex impossible. A new, steamy romance.

MISTLETOE BETWEEN FRIENDS by Samantha Chase - Lily and Cam have been friends all their lives, and their relationship has never been romantic. But when they pretend to be dating so they can spend the holiday with their families in peace, they realize their fake romance might actually be real. A new, sweet romance.

THE CHRISTMAS COTTAGE by Samantha Chase - Spending the night trapped by a blizzard in a romantic Christmas cottage with the man she's loved for years has Lacey wondering if fairy tales really do come true. A sweet romance.

EIGHT CHRISTMAS EVES by Rachel Curtis - One Christmas Eve, Cyrus Owen, the over-indulged teenage son of a wealthy businessman, finds ten-year-old Helen on the side of the road. Eleven years later, he is desperately in love with her. This is how it happens... A mostly sweet romance.

WHAT ONCE WAS PERFECT by Zoe York - For Laney, the worst part of returning to her hometown for Christmas is confronting Kyle, the man who broke her heart twelve years ago. When they rediscover their perfect chemistry, Kyle has to convince Laney to let him back into her heart. A steamy romance.

Excerpt from MISTLETOE BETWEEN FRIENDS by Samantha Chase

“Focus, Lily!” he snapped and then immediately apologized for his tone.  “The holidays are here, my friend.  That means that there will be a steady stream of parties and get-togethers that we are going to be forced to go to and will have potential spouses thrown at us from every angle.”

“Personally I’m waiting for them to just position us at the foot of the driveway with mistletoe over our heads and signs taped to our chests that say ‘Please marry us’.”  The thought sent a shiver down her spine because she was really only partially kidding.  Lately her mother had really seemed to kick up the campaign to marry Lily off.  Not a day went by where Lily wasn’t asked if she’d met anyone decent or what her plans were for the future.

Dealing with her mother was an exhaustive full-time job within itself.

“I think it’s safe to say,” Cam began, breaking into her train of thought, “that neither of us is looking forward to another holiday season spent ducking and weaving through get-togethers to avoid the match-making patrol.  Agreed?”

“Agreed.  But what choice do we have?  Other than packing our bags right now and both of us moving overseas to get away from the insanity?”

“I’m being serious here.”

“You’re always serious, Cam.  I’m trying to get you to break that habit.”  When she got no response from him she sighed with annoyance.  “Okay, what do you have in mind?”

“We take ourselves off of the market.  If we’re involved with other people, they can’t spend their time trying to marry us off.”

“But we’re not involved with other people; that’s the problem.  Isn’t that what we’ve been talking about for the last hour?  I’m so confused…”

“You’re not confused, Lily, and don’t play the ditzy card with me,” he said patiently.  “I’m saying that we pretend that we are involved.  We.  You and me.”

Buy links:

The authors will be awarding a $25 GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour!

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Noelle Adams, Samantha Chase, Rachel Curtis, and Zoe York are four bestselling authors of fun, smart, and contemporary romance, from sweet to sexy, who are collaborating on this holiday anthology.

Beginning on December 11, LOVE FOR THE HOLIDAYS will be on sale for just $.99!

Book Trailer: or embed code:

Author websites:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thanks for stopping by!

Monday, December 09, 2013


Cassie Scot Mystery Series
by Christine Amsden

Interview with Christine:

What is the first curse word that comes to mind?  How often and why do you use it?

Damn. I use it too often, to be honest, whenever any little thing goes wrong. My son is starting to say it. We'll probably both need to go on the quarter system soon.

 How would you spend ten thousand bucks?

Alaskan Cruise. Or Mediterranean. Choices...choices...

What are 5 things within touching distance?

My mug of Crystal Light. My audiobook player (A big clunky thing with big buttons for the blind and physically handicapped. I'm legally blind and listen to most of the books I read for pleasure.) My to-do list. An mp3 player. Some random wires.

Do you have a crush on anyone?

I'm very happily married. (I don't think you can have a crush on your own husband. At least, it doesn't feel like the crushes I remember from my single days. It feels infinitely warmer and safer.)

What is your least favorite word?

I won't say or type it but it's four letters long and begins with a 'c.'


Cassie Scot is the ungifted daughter of powerful sorcerers, born between worlds but belonging to neither. At 21, all she wants is to find a place for herself, but earning a living as a private investigator in the shadow of her family’s reputation isn’t easy. When she is pulled into a paranormal investigation, and tempted by a powerful and handsome sorcerer, she will have to decide where she truly belongs.


When we went back downstairs, I noticed a door leading to a screened-in back porch and started to turn the handle when my hand froze on the doorknob. My whole body stiffened, and my mouth went dry, so it took me several tries to alert Evan to what I'd seen.

“I found her,” I finally managed, in barely a whisper.

Nancy Hastings, Evan's sixteen-year-old cousin, lay in a pool of her own blood, eyes vacant and staring. Her hair had been a rich, luminous brown but was now matted with blood. It looked as if her throat had been torn out.

“No!” The cry tore from his throat and before I had a chance to stop him, Evan was inside the room and leaning over the body, looking for any sign of life, and probably destroying any trace evidence the police might have collected. But I couldn't blame him. I would have reacted precisely the same way, if it had been my family. As it was, I had to wipe away tears before I could get to my phone and call the sheriff. The need for secrecy had passed.

“Sheriff's department, this is Jane Conway.”

“Jane, it's Cassie. You need to get out to Belinda Hewitt's house right away. There's been a murder.” I hung up before she could ask for more details.

Slowly, Evan rose to his feet and made his way back into the house with me. He had smeared the blood and left footprints on the floor, but somehow none of it had ended up on him. Or if it had, then he had some way of removing it.

“The police are on their way,” I said, not sure if he would be upset with me for calling. Probably not. He looked too shocked to care.

“Yeah.” He leaned against a wall and closed his eyes.

“You should call your uncle.”

“Can I borrow your phone?” Evan asked. “Master Wolf doesn't believe in phones.”

SECRETS AND LIES, book two, Blurb:

Cassie Scot, still stinging from her parents’ betrayal, wants out of the magical world. But it isn’t letting her go. Her family is falling apart and despite everything, it looks like she may be the only one who can save them.

To complicate matters, Cassie owes Evan her life, making it difficult for her to deny him anything he really wants. And he wants her. Sparks fly when they team up to find two girls missing from summer camp, but long-buried secrets may ruin their hopes for happiness.


The door opened with a jingle, and something in the air told me my day had just gone from bad to worse.

“Edward,” Victor said, as if greeting an old friend.

I faced my former father for the first time since he had announced his intention to disown me. He looked just as he always had, with straight dark hair, brown eyes, a long, angular face, and a wide, curving mouth – curving downward into a frown, that is.

If Victor was the last person I had expected to see in the diner that morning, then my former father was the last person I wanted to see. Even now, with Victor explaining my part in his unusual scheme for revenge, I didn't want my former father nearby. I didn't want his help. I only hoped Nicolas and Juliana hadn't broken their promise and told him about the life debt, or I would never hear the end of it.

The air crackled with visible tension. Sparks of shimmering red fire danced around my father's head. Behind the counter, Mrs. Meyers twisted her hands together anxiously, as if afraid her diner might burn down. Her fears were not unjustified.

I stepped boldly between them, facing my father. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” he said.

“I have nothing to say to you. You disowned me, remember?”

The color seemed to drain from his face as he stared past me, at his oldest enemy.

Victor raised his water glass in a mock toast. “I've known for some time. If it makes you feel any worse, so does everyone else in town who hasn't been asleep for a week. Or at least, they guess.”

“I don't care what you think you know. Stay away from my daughter.” With that, he grabbed my arm with a hand hot enough to leave a reddened imprint on my skin, and dragged me through the kitchen to the employee room at the back. Only then did he release my injured forearm.


Christine Amsden
Award-winning author Christine Amsden has written stories since she was eight, always with a touch of the strange or unusual. She became a “serious” writer in 2003, after attending a boot camp with Orson Scott Card. She finished TOUCH OF FATE shortly afterward, then penned THE IMMORTALITY VIRUS, which won two awards. Expect many more titles by this up-and-coming author.

Thanks for stopping by!

Friday, December 06, 2013


Forbidden Future
A Time Travel Anthology

Publication Date: September 12, 2013
Publisher: Masquerade Publishing
Genre: Time Travel/Fantasy
Cover Designed by: Raphyel M. Jordan

FORBIDDEN FUTURE is on sale through Saturday, December 7, 2013 for only  99 cents!

by Jon Bradbury
Jesse Kendall's fiancee is missing, ever since she answered a strange ad. His only lead is a deserted warehouse downtown. In that warehouse he will find so much more than he bargained for.

"Road Trip"
by Matt Mitrovich
Four friends drive to a college party and take an unexpected detour into the future.


by Terra Harmony
Take a ride on the 'Energy of the Future', where society gets a fresh, clean start – no matter who they have to leave behind.

"Forbidden Future"

by James Wymore

A time machine technician has given his whole life to the pure scientific pursuit of the study of time travel.  When his personal life falls apart, he decides to risk it all and take a trip into the future.  First, he must remove a failsafe blocking the machine from traveling to the future.  What could be so bad that they tried to stop anybody from seeing it?

"The Mountains Haven't"

by Kade Anderson
     The people of the town of Dignity go about their daily lives, trying to scrape out a meager existence from the dirt and the dust of their land, never taking notice of the mountains that loom in the distance. To the others, the mountains are benign, as harmless as the grass their cows graze upon. To the town's Watcher, Julia, the mountains hold the key to a far greater mystery.

Jon Bradbury
Jon Bradbury is the writer of 11 erotic romance eBooks including Sugar Daddy and Worst Kept Secret. He lives and works in Reno, Nevada. He is a full time writer thanks to the never ending Great Recession. He is currently and probably permanently single.

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter 

Matt Mitrovich
Matt Mitrovich is the founder and editor of Alternate History Weekly Update and a blogger on Amazing Stories. His new short story "Road Trip" can be found in Forbidden Future: A Time Travel Anthology. When not writing he works as an attorney, enjoys life with his beautiful wife Alana and prepares for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

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Terra Harmony
Terra is author of the eco-fantasy novels in the Akasha Series, 'Water', 'Air', 'Fire' and 'Earth', as well as the Painted Maidens Trilogy. Terra was born and raised in Colorado but has since lived in California, Texas, Utah, North Carolina, and Virginia.  Terra has served a 5½ year enlistment in the Marine Corp, has earned her bachelor's and master's degree and presently runs the language services division of a small business. Terra currently lives in a suburb of Washington, DC with her husband of 14 years and three children.

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James Wymore
On a lifelong search for fantastic worlds hiding just out of sight, James Wymore writes to explore. With three books and six short stories in print after just one year, he continues to push the boundaries of imagination.

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Kade Anderson
Kade Anderson is a writer from Atlanta, Georgia specializing in science fiction, fantasy, and occasionally finance.  "The Mountains Haven't" is her first published short story, but she has also written two novels and co-written several screenplays, including the upcoming web series Life Online.  You can read the less interesting bits of Kade's writing on her blog or follow her on Twitter.  Both feature frequent references to her habit of buying more books than she can read, and pictures of her pet rabbit, Epinephrine.

JeriWB, Editor
JeriWB writes short stories, creative nonfiction, and psychological suspense. The rough Idaho mining town she grew up in populates her literary landscape. She also works as a freelance editor.

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James Lauren & Michael Trimmer

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