Thursday, February 22, 2018

Guest Blog - La Contessa by S. Nano



The inspiration behind La Contessa’s art collection.

The setting for La Contessa is 18th century Venice. Indeed, the city is almost like an extra character in the story, providing the perfect back drop for the debauched games and political plotting of its main character.

I think my fascination for the period and the city goes back to a time before going up to university (in the late 1970s!) when, living within commuting distance of London, I worked there for several months and used my season ticket as an opportunity to go up to town every weekend. One of the things I did was visit all the art galleries in London and this led me to the National Gallery and the fabulous paintings by Caneletto there. How I loved those paintings, their amazing composition, glorious colours and fantastic attention to detail. I stood and stared at those paintings for ages!

Only last year there was a major exhibition of Caneletto’s in the Queen’s Gallery from the royal collection. England’s envoy to Venice in the 18th century was a man called Joseph Smith, who was also an art collector and acted as Caneletto’s agent, using his palazzo on the Grand Canal as a showroom for the artist’s work. The reason the Queen has such an incredible collection of Caneletto’s and other 18th century Venetian artists is that George III bought Joseph Smith’s entire collection. Though La Contessa had already been written and edited by then, that exhibition was a real treat!
Venetian art from the 18th century is undoubtedly one of the influences on the book. La Contessa is a collector of art, and she has commissioned the leading artists of the day to produce works for her, including Caneletto!  My narrator, Roberto, is also something of an art expert. Despite being orphaned and hitting on hard times which forced him into a life of prostitution in the least salubrious alleys of Venice, his father was a wealthy merchant and taught him about art.

So, La Contessa has a fabulous collection of art work, much of it containing erotica! There are: statues of sea nymphs by Giuseppe Torretti, frescoes by Tiepolo, portraits by Rosalba Carriera, paintings by Sebastian Ricci and Pietro Longhi and canal scenes by Guardi. A massive painting by Canaletto takes pride of place in the entrance hall of her palazzo and depicts La Contessa dressed in an elaborate mask at its centre, observing a regatta on the Grand Canal from her balcony.

Have I been to Venice? Yes, but it was many years ago. I had to rely on such memories as I could recall and research to capture the spirit of La Contessa’s Venice. And there’s lots of added BDSM kinkiness in there too! But I must go back, and a re-visit is definitely on my bucket list.

Story Extract

In keeping with my blog post this extract from the book focuses on Roberto’s observations on the art work in La Contessa’s ballroom as her guests arrive for the Carnevale Ball, the climax of the book..

All is prepared. The guests have finished their banquet and file into the ballroom to wait in excited anticipation for their host’s appearance. We follow them to take up our allotted positions, still dressed in the silk cloaks and peacock, phoenix, and swan masks. I’m excited. I’ve heard much about the palazzo’s ballroom, and now I’m finally getting the chance to see it.

It’s like walking into a dream. There’s so much happening it’s hard to take it in. The overwhelming impact is one of opulence. The ballroom is vast, accommodating hundreds of guests with ease. I’m surprised at how light and airy the room is. I was expecting baroque grandeur, but the panelled walls are in pastel shades of blue and green, decorated with delicate filigree patterns of foliage in gold. Along the length of the ceiling are candelabra of Murano crystal with candles set in them, making it rain sparks of rainbow light on the revellers. It’s an architectural delight, and beautiful because it has a sense of restraint. This glorious light filled space is a delight. I stand there open-mouthed looking around.

Then there’s the art work, all by renowned artists and tasteful. Well, it’s extremely explicit but executed in a tasteful manner! There are huge canvases on the wall between each set of window frames. The overall theme is classical, specifically classical love stories; more specifically love stories involving perverted sex. The ballroom is bursting with rosy buttocks, bouncing breasts and rampant penises.

I recognise the stories they depict. Zeus features prominently, but then he was a horny god. There’s Zeus as a cuckoo proposing to Hera, seducing Europa in the form of a bull, fucking Leda in the shape of a swan, and abducting Ganymede as an eagle. There’s a definite bestiality and shape-shifting theme going on. There’s one shockingly explicit painting of a god peeing. It takes a while for me to work it out until I realise the painting depicts Zeus seducing Danae as a shower of gold though in this depiction the golden shower is painted literally. I hope to examine them more closely in daylight, but for now I scan the room transfixed as I appreciate the rich colours of the oils as they glow in the candlelight.

To my surprise I get a gentle nudge from Becky; she glances across at me and mouths, “Wow!”
The ballroom alone is enough to take the breath away, but the revellers packing it out add yet more colour and magnificence. Venetians dress up for Carnevale and, given the room is full of people from La Contessa’s inner circle and many of the city’s wealthiest inhabitants, it’s hardly surprising to see an array of outrageous ball gowns, tunics and masks. My flamboyant peacock mask looks restrained compared to others. There are silk, damask, and velvet dresses with extravagant collars and lace ruffs.

The jewellery on display is breath taking in its opulence. The guests glitter with silver, gold, pearls, and precious stones, an abundance of diamonds, rubies, and emeralds being on show. There are embroidered masks of white, black, silver, and gold decorated with exotic displays of feathers. There are panniers so wide the women can barely fit through the door. Mademoiselle is wearing such a gown made of emerald silk decorated with orange flowers with a massive golden bow. The ballroom is filled with a rainbow of colours, blinding in their dazzling brilliance.


The atmosphere is raucous and licentious. They’re drunk on wines and brandies, and ready for a party. They want entertainment and, this being the decadent republic of La Serenissima, and these being amongst of its most liberated citizens, they want debauchery.

La Contessa
S. Nano

Genre: BDSM, Historical Erotica

Publisher: eXcessica

Date of Publication: 26 January 2018

Number of pages: 271
Word Count: 90.500

Cover Artist: Kevin Blisse

Book Description:

The most decadent city…

The most perverted mistress…

Renowned for her beauty and cruelty, La Contessa’s reputation as a dominatrix is well established. And eighteenth century Venice has degenerated into a decadent and lascivious city, the perfect backdrop for her to play-out her debauched games and political ambitions.

She sends her maid, Julia, into the alleyways to search for a young man to act as her slave. Julia finds Roberto prostituting himself in the least salubrious district of Venice. He enters into La Contessa’s service to perform her bizarre and sadistic scenes.

From their first meeting there is a mutual attraction between maid and servant. The young couple engineer a series of sexual encounters, knowing the risks should their mistress discover them. Their situation is complicated when La Contessa rescues Becky and brings her to the palazzo as her submissive girl-slave. The interloper exposes Julia’s jealousies… and the feelings for her mistress.

How long can Roberto and Julia keep their love secret? Will Becky’s presence thwart their relationship? Will La Contessa’s scheming bring her the richest prize in all Venice?

All is resolved before the grand ball and masked, BDSM orgy held by La Contessa in her palazzo as the climax to Venice’s Carnivale.



About the Author:

S. Nano is a writer of erotic stories with dark and exotic content in fantasy or historical settings drawing on the themes of female domination, BDSM and fetish but often with a seam of quirky humour running through them.

‘La Contessa’ is his third full length novel. ‘Adventures in Fetishland’, a BDSM/fetish re-invention of the classic Alice stories was published by Xcite Books and ‘Mistress of the Air’, a comic, Steampunk, erotic adventure was published by eXcessica. His novellas and short stories have been published by Xcite Books, House of Erotica, Forbidden Fiction, Coming Together and Greenwoman Publishing.

He is a regular participant in reading slams at ‘Smut by the Sea’ and similar events in the UK, contributing a workshop ‘Kinking Up the Past’, on getting inspiration for erotic stories in historical settings, in 2015.


Soul Thing by Lana Pecherczyk



Soul Thing
The Game of Gods
Book One
Lana Pecherczyk

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Prism Press

Date of Publication: 20th February 2018

ASIN: B079FM8BF3

Number of pages: 379
Word Count: 101,989

Cover Artist: Lana Pecherczyk

Tagline: Evolution is the Game, Witches are the Glitch

Book Description:

After a decade long war, witches have been obliterated, or so the world thinks. A precarious peace settles and, for the small town of Margaret River, life returns to normal, but for Roo, the hard work is just beginning.

Roo works at the local bar, is a little facetious and can’t wait to high-tail it out of there to keep her powers secret. She’s not certain where they came from but the last thing she wants is to be burned at the stake. Hiding in plain sight seems to work until Cash, a darkly handsome hunter, arrives with disaster in his wake. Witches aren’t defeated, only hidden, and there’s one gunning for Roo and her family. The recent war only touched the surface of the preternatural world and with Cash’s help, Roo learns there are worse things that go bump in the night... and she might be one of them.

Soon she must make a choice—risk exposure to save her loved ones, or remain hidden and safe. But sometimes safe isn’t an option. Sometimes safe is a never-ending game.



Excerpt # 2 (995 Words) From Chapter 4

I surveyed the bar to see if I had time to get away and speak to my friend. The customers were happy, the kitchen crew had either gone home or were enjoying themselves on the dance floor, and Alvin swept up a broken bottle under a restaurant table. The back room would be empty. I pushed past the swinging doors to join Kitty, but almost smacked into her. Her full ice bucket connected with my shin. Ouch!
I opened my mouth to curse, but stopped when I noticed her face. She stared at something past my shoulder and momentarily lost her careful composure and seductress persona. “Hubba hubba. I think I need to go to confession,” she said.
“Why?” I tried to turn around, but she held me back.
“Don’t look,” she squeaked, then coughed delicately and lowered her voice to a raspy husk. “Because I’m having sinful thoughts about melting this ice over that devilishly hot body. He’s certainly not from around here.” She shoved the bucket into my hands and pushed me backwards so she had room to stumble past. Recovering with a sashay and a saunter, she made her way to the counter where a tall, tanned man stood.
I wouldn’t exactly call him devilish. He was blonde—are devils blonde? His short hair was impeccably groomed and styled at the top, the kind of way that took hours to make it look like it took minutes. His stubble was perfectly trimmed—a designer five o’clock shadow. The only devilish thing about him was the full arm tattoo peeking out from under his crisp, white shirt sleeve on one side. It also showed slightly higher up over his collared neck. Everything about him screamed money, control and influence. Except the ink. That screamed something else.
His lips twitched at the corner, and I narrowed my eyes. What was he smiling at? Had he heard Kitty’s words through the haze of sound?
“Oh, give me a break,” I mumbled and went cross-eyed. Kitty had found another conquest, and that left me lugging the heavy load. She was a predator, that woman, I swear. I stumbled over to the ice trough, dropped half the ice on the floor and almost slipped to land on my butt. “Seriously?” I hissed to the ice.
I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Kitty heading back in my direction. Her face was contorted into an expression I could only describe as horrified or mortified, or maybe constipated. I smirked, then caught myself, breathed in deeply and tried again. I gave her my best sincere smile.
“He called me Ma’am,” she said, and took the empty bucket from my hands. “How dare he? I am not a Ma’am. I’m a sexy, young, successful, independent woman who—” She stopped mid-sentence and looked at me, green eyes blazing. “Well, he asked for you, didn’t he?”
“What? I don’t know him.” I snatched the bucket back.
“He asked for you by name. Don’t be shy, your rudeness is keeping the customer waiting.” She pushed me in the direction of the blue-eyed stranger, making an embarrassing show of my reluctance. “I have to perform soon anyway,” she said as if she had better things to do. “Just keep an eye on the bar while I put my game face on.”
She gave me one last shove and sauntered out back.
Her push sent me flying, and I tripped over my feet to land in front of the stranger with a humph. To make matters worse, the music paused between songs and I yelled, “Can I help you?”
Heat rose to my cheeks in the silence and I imagined my whole face painted red. The music started, and I looked down at my feet, took a deep breath and started again. When I caught his eyes, words fled. They were different—one as clear as the deep blue ocean, the other also blue, but spliced with muddy clouds in the turbulent water. It was as though each eye belonged to a different person. I almost sighed like a school girl. They were amazing. Simply amazing and his dark lashes were full and framed the masterpiece within perfectly. Hang on. I squinted, they looked vaguely familiar.
“La Roux?” He pronounced my name correctly. Maybe he was French, like my name.
I cleared my throat. “Yes, do I know you?”
“No, but you know my brother, Tommy. He told me to look you up when I arrived.” His voice was smooth and hypnotic—a dangerous combination with those eyes.
Wowsers, this was Cash? His neat and trim exterior wasn’t at all what I expected for a beach bum, although his well-toned physique was. I stared like a loser for a minute. Something didn’t add up, and it wasn’t the fact he wore fancy leather loafers in country Western Australia. No, it was because he used my full name. Nobody did that. I’d worked hard for people to forget who I’d been in the city—the girl feared and hated for almost being a witch. My hand fluttered to my collar in a nervous reaction and his gaze flicked down too.
“How did you know my full name?” I asked. The mild panic must have crept into my eyes because he took a step backwards. “Everyone here calls me Roo.”
He scrubbed the back of his neck and then scanned the room like he had somewhere welled to be. “Tommy told me. Look, can I get a drink? Whisky, if it’s not too much to ask?”
Jeez, I was just asking, no need to get grumpy. I glared at him while I pulled a glass from the drying rack and placed it on the counter. He was full of inconsistencies—his accent, for one. It was almost non-existent and, apart from saying my name like he was French, his language was without a pattern or distinguishing lilt that pointed to his origin. He could’ve hailed from anywhere.

6 Chapter Excerpt Available from Instafreebie until March 3rd 2018


About the Author:

Lana Pecherczyk is a freckle-faced writer from Perth, Western Australia. She’s a fan of 'pro-caffeinating' and writes in Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance. Basically if it’s got sexy heroes, thrilling action and a kick-ass heroine, you know she’ll write it because she loves reading it.

When she’s not writing the next great novel, or wrangling the rug rats, or rescuing GI Joe from the jaws of her Kelpie, she fights evil by moonlight, wins love by daylight and never runs from a real fight.

You can find her books on Amazon and other good online retailers.






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The Nightmare Room by Chris Sorensen



The Nightmare Room
The Messy Man Series
Book One
Chris Sorensen
         
Genre: Paranormal Fiction

Publisher: Harmful Monkey Press

Date of Publication: 1/25/2018

ISBN: 978-0998342412
ASIN: B07943P5S8

Number of pages: 273
Word Count: 45,000

Tagline: The past is always present in the Nightmare Room.

Book Description:

A boy in a basement, a man in a booth and a darkness that threatens to swallow them both...

New York audiobook narrator Peter Larson and his wife Hannah head to his hometown of Maple City to help Peter's ailing father and to put a recent tragedy behind them. Though the small, Midwestern town seems the idyllic place to start afresh, Peter and Hannah will soon learn that evil currents flow beneath its surface.

They move into an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town—a house purchased by Peter's father at auction and kept secret until now—and start to settle into their new life.

But as Peter sets up his recording studio in a small basement room, disturbing things begin to occur—mysterious voices haunt audio tracks, malevolent shadows creep about the house. And when an insidious presence emerges from the woodwork, Peter must face old demons in order to save his family and himself.


Excerpt:
The man threw open the basement door. A rush of mildewed air rose up from the darkness, like the hideous breath of some subterranean thing. He flicked on the light, and the cascade of descending stairs came into view. Among their number was the treacherous one midway down, the one that bent like a bow at the slightest weight.
“Are you going down on your own or do I have to make you?”
The boy looked up at his father. The anger that had fueled him thus far was fading, seemingly sapped by the trip from the boy’s bedroom. Instead, his father looked pained. If he didn’t know better, he might think the Old Man was about to cry. But his father had said he was tired. Dead tired. And perhaps it was as simple as that.
"I'll go," the boy whispered, and he took the first tentative step down.
The change in temperature was immediate; it was like diving into a cold pool. He took another step down, and another.
He paused on the third step and looked back at his father. The bare bulb above paled the man’s countenance. The grey circles under his eyes made him look like he’d been bludgeoned.
“Git!” the Old Man snarled. The boy went. When he reached the sagging step, he stopped, took a breath and leaped over it. His heel hit the lip of the next step, but the wood was damp, and the boy came down hard on his butt.
“Get some sleep. And no more dreams.”
As if he could help it.
His father closed the door, and the lock clicked. It would not open again until morning.
The boy descended the final few stairs and stepped onto the floor. Ice-cold cement sucked heat from his soles. He squinted, trying to adjust to the dark.
The usefulness of the light bulb ended a few feet into the basement. And there was no more source of light until he reached the…
The gears in his head ground to a halt, stopping short of allowing the dreaded name to be uttered.
He started picking out objects around him. The solemn metal face of the furnace, a stack of water softener salt bags, the frame of an old bicycle.
Straight ahead lay a distance of twenty or so feet before he'd come to a door. Three-quarters of that stretch was in pitch black. To get to the door, to get to the room, he had to dash through the darkness until his hand found the doorknob. Then, he would throw the door open, reach to his right, flip the wall switch and presto. An island of light in an ocean of black.
He girded himself for the sprint.
“One…two…”
He hesitated…but why? He’d already made this run two times this week. Both Monday and Thursday, he’d awakened screaming, bringing down the Old Man’s wrath, and sending him here. To the penalty box. To time out. To the Night—
“Three!”
The boy startled at the sound of his own voice, and he lurched into motion. He hurtled into the darkness, his feet slapping the floor, echoing off the walls in hollow applause.
He bumped into something and spun, temporarily throwing himself and his inner compass off balance. He skidded across the floor and came to a stop.
Heart pounding in his chest, he quickly located the lit stairs off to his left. He made a rapid calculation and turned to face the invisible pathway to the room. He bolted, coming to a halt only when he slammed head-on into the door.
His hand floundered before finding the knob. He launched into his practiced routine. Open door, flip switch, step inside.
In seconds, the boy slipped into the room and slammed the door shut. A pink light overhead bathed him in imaginary warmth—he had made it.
He stepped back and sank into the waiting beanbag chair, facing the door. The small room with its mint green walls and rollaway bed felt almost welcoming, an odd feeling for a place that was meant as a punishment.
The boy pulled a quilt from the bed and wrapped it around him tight. For the first time in his life, he felt safe here in this room—in the Nightmare Room.
Because he hadn’t bumped into something out there in the dark. He had bumped into someone.
He was almost certain of it.
He kept one eye on the door as the minutes hummed past on the illuminated clock on the nightstand. He busied himself with crayon and paper, doodling to keep his mind quiet. Soon, his vision began to flutter; the room began to strobe. And, in the space between two breaths, the boy sank into his beanbag chair and fell into a fitful sleep.
The doorknob twitched.
The boy bolted upright. He pressed back into the chair. His whole body started shivering, and he feared he would wet himself for the second time that night.
A thought…no, a voice crept into his head.
Coming in.
The door quivered as if someone was leaning against it, trying to stifle a laugh. Nails scratched against the wood.
“Dad?” the boy whispered.
The door shuddered.
“Is that you?” Knowing it was not.
Coming…
“Please don’t.”
Coming…
“No.”
Coming…
“No!”
In.





About the Author:

Chris Sorensen spends many days and nights locked away inside his own nightmare room. He is the narrator of over 200 audiobooks (including the award-winning The Missing series by Margaret Peterson Haddix) and the recipient of three AudioFile Earphone Awards. Over the past fifteen years, the Butte Theater and Thin Air Theatre Company in Cripple Creek, Colorado have produced dozens of his plays including Dr. Jekyll’s Medicine Show, Werewolves of Poverty Gulch and The Vampire of Cripple Creek. He is the author of the middle grade book The Mad Scientists of New Jersey and has written numerous screenplay including Suckerville, Bee Tornado and The Roswell Project.



Mailing List Sign Up: http://www.casorensen.com/



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Interview - Release Day Blitz The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Crave by Deborah Wilde


Are you currently binge watching anything on Netflix, Hulu (or elsewhere)? What keeps you glued to the screen? 

Oh, yes, indeed. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel blew my mind with its brilliant wit, stellar acting, and sumptuous production design. (The dresses!) It made me all kinds of happy. My other TV happy place cruelly makes me wait week-to-week for the next episode. That’s season three of The Magicians. Fun fact: I used many photos of Arjun Gupta as Penny on the show, for visual “inspiration” of my main love interest Rohan.

Do you prefer movies or TV series?

I’m all about TV now, even though I did my M.A. in Film Theory** and used to constantly watch all kinds of films from around the world.

**Should your parents ever give you grief about your degree, tell them that at least you’re not doing a Masters in watching movies. That will shut them up, trust me.

When it comes to reading do you prefer standalones or series?

In general, I’d have to say series, because I get invested. I don’t even need the same MC, just a connected world works. Though sometimes, when I’m all series-fatigued, I’ll pick up a book I want to read and wish it was a standalone because I can’t handle the thought of these 600 pages being only book 1. :P

Do you prefer to start new book series when the first book is released or do you want for a several books in the series to be released so you can binge read?

Doesn’t matter to me either way.  I mean, I waited something like twelve years for Stephen King to finish The Dark Tower series, devouring each one as it was released.

What are some of your hobbies, interests or guilty pleasures ?

No guilty pleasures. I love to travel so that’s always been something I try to prioritize. 
I’ve been lucky enough to ride gondolas in Venice, sleep under the stars in the Sahara and sit in a hot spring by a waterfall at an onsen in Japan. 

I also tap dance, which is something my MC does. Think less Rockettes, more old time rhythm hoofers.

What's your guilty “nerd” pleasure ? 

I used to have a bumper sticker on my crappy hatchback that said “My Other Vehicle is a Romulan Warbird”  and I think I still have my Bajoran earring. Does that count?

Have you ever peeked at the ending of a book?

Never.

When it comes to your own writing are you a plotter or a panster?

Total plotter. It’s my screenwriting background. I love the idea of pantsing, but it never ends well for me. 

Thanks so much for having me today!

The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Crave
Nava Katz
Book Four
Deborah Wilde

Genre: urban fantasy / romance

Publisher: Te Da Media

Date of Publication: February 20, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-988681-10-8
ASIN:  B0784674R3

Number of pages: 438
Word Count: 92,500

Cover Artist: Damonza

Tagline: Meet Nava Katz. Punches like a girl. Kicks demon butt.

Book Description:

What doesn’t kill you... seriously messes with your love life.

Nava is happily settling into her new relationship and life is all giddy joy and stolen kisses.

Except when it’s assassins. Talk about a mood killer.

She and Rohan are tracking the unlikely partnership between the Brotherhood and a witch who can bind demons, but every new piece of the puzzle is leaving them with more questions than answers.

And someone doesn’t appreciate them getting close to the truth.

Go figure.

On top of that, a demon known only as Candyman has unleashed a drug that’s harming users in extremely disturbing ways.

After a friend of Nava’s is hurt, she vows to take this demon down. But will life as she knows it survive this mission, or will this be the one time she should have looked before she leapt?

Happily-ever-after: barring death, she’s got a real shot at it.


On Sale up to 60% Until Midnight Feb 26

Excerpt:
“I love home delivery.” Malik lounged in his doorway, eyeing me the way the wolf must have with the three little pigs. His British accent was pure sin.
“I love your arrogance that you didn’t bother moving after I almost killed you.”
He laughed, flashing straight white teeth against his bronze skin. He was still the only being I’d ever met who could pull off a Caesar cut, and was still the stuff of billionaire romance cover fantasies in his soft gray trousers that were artfully tailored to the hard lines of his body and navy shirt, carelessly folded back at the cuffs. “Oh, petal. I’d say I missed you, but I didn’t. Now, unless you brought the more interesting twin?” He peered into the hallway. “No?”
He shut the door, but I stuffed my foot in to block it. Not like he politely stopped trying to close it. “Ow.” I pushed my shoulder into the door to keep my poor bones from breaking. “If you weren’t wondering why I was here, you wouldn’t have let security buzz me up or let my toes cross the wards I’m sure you’ve got strung across this door.”
“Ten seconds.”
“That’s not–”
“Five, four…”
“Demons are being bound.” I rushed my words as he made a buzzing noise.
Malik yanked me inside by my collar and slammed the door.
I wrenched free.
His penthouse apartment hadn’t changed. Still to-die-for sweeping views of the city, a massive glass wine storage unit in the open concept space, and a loft bedroom. He pointed at one of the leather sofas, custom made to hug the curved walls. “Sit and talk.”



About the Author:

A global wanderer, hopeless romantic, and total cynic with a broken edit button, Deborah writes urban fantasy to satisfy her love of smexy romances and tales of chicks who kick ass. This award-winning author is all about the happily-ever-after, with a huge dose of hilarity along the way.







Monday, February 19, 2018

Bitter Harvest Series by Ann Gimpel


Betrayed
Bitter Harvest
Book Four
Ann Gimpel

Print Length: 259 pages

Publisher: Ann Gimpel Books, LLC

Publication Date: February 5, 2018

ASIN: B0792P5S8T

Breaking the world is a hard act to follow. Releasing February 5, 2018

Karin’s watched magic ebb and flow over her long life. A healer by nature, as well as a wolf Shifter, she fixes what she can and buries her personal needs deep. In a race against time, she and a small group of Shifters and humans are sailing toward a gateway in the Arctic. If they can’t close it, Earth will be doomed, but getting that far is proving tricky.

Daide’s a scientist, first and foremost. Once a world-renowned expert on treating cetaceans, his skills are rusty. Ten years as a Vampire altered a whole lot, and he’s still exploring his brand-new Shifter magic. Karin caught his eye before they left Ushuaia, but she seems to be in love with a dolphin Shifter. Immersed in jealousy, Daide considers walking away, but he can’t give up. The only woman he’s ever loved is worth fighting for. Consequences be damned.

Vampires, Witches, high-handed gods, Kelpies, and a host of others all want either the ship or the Shifters’ magic. Even the simplest tasks develop thorny edges, and misunderstandings threaten to destroy everything.

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Abandoned
Bitter Harvest
Book Three
Ann Gimpel

Print Length: 292 pages

Publisher: Ann Gimpel Books, LLC

Publication Date: December 18, 2017

ISBN: 198126146X
ASIN: B077BSJFD8

Genre: PNR

Breaking the world is a hard act to follow.

Provocative. Engaging. The wild, supernatural ride continues.

Book Description:

A handful of Shifters. A hardy ship. An upside-down world where evil runs rampant and none of the old rules apply. Taking a stand against the Cataclysm solved a few problems, but others rushed in to fill in the void.

Recco misses his cozy lab and well-organized veterinary clinic, but ten years as a Vampire stripped him of any illusions. Life is done handing him everything he wants. He could rail against fate—which never bought him much—or suck it up and keep going. Defeating the Cataclysm broke Vampirism’s hold on him, though. Even better, it threw Zoe square in his path.

When Zoe left Ireland for a visiting professorship in Wyoming, she assumed she’d be home in a year, but her assumption swung around and bit her in the ass. The Cataclysm, a spell trapping her in Ushuaia for a decade may be gone, but it left a hell of a legacy. One that’s far from done chasing her.

Darkness stalks the ship. Evil that will stop at nothing to protect itself.

Amazon     Google Play     BN     Kobo     iTunes

Twisted
Bitter Harvest
Book Two
Ann Gimpel

Book Description:

A small group of Shifters sails south from Ushuaia, determined to assess what’s left of the world. A Vampire attack, a possessed priest, and a gateway to Hell mean fallout from the spell gone bad that pinned them in Ushuaia for years is far from gone.

Back on a ship again, Juan reconstructs what’s always been a comfort zone. The sea is the only life he’s ever known—if you don’t count the ten years he spent as a Vampire. His new magic, fueled by a bond with a mountain cat, brings its own set of challenges, but they pale in comparison with the white-hot need knifing through him whenever Aura is anywhere close.

A historian by trade, Aura deals in prophecies for her Shifter pack. Attraction for Juan ignited when they fought the Cataclysm, but she figures he left a string of broken hearts during his years as chief navigator on cruise ships. They have to work together. A self-indulgent affair could ruin everything. She does her damnedest to keep distance between them, but the ship’s not big enough to escape yearning for a future together.

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Deceived
Bitter Harvest
Book One
Ann Gimpel

Magic shattered the world, but the worst is yet to come.

“Provocative and engaging. A fast-paced, supernatural ride.” Michelle Fox, NYT Bestselling Author

Book Description:

The sea may have been a harsh mistress, but Viktor longs for the challenges of wind and weather, for the sound of waves crashing over his hull. Turned by a Master Vampire, he hates what he’s become, but there’s no escape. Not from Ushuaia that’s turned into a city of bones, or from the Vampire who rules him.

Ketha and eleven other Shifters traveled to Ushuaia to harness the power of an eclipse and were trapped there when the world turned upside down. Ten years later, they’re staying one step ahead of Vampires who blame them for the cataclysm.

With her luck running low, Ketha turns her badly depleted magic on the Vampire assigned to lock her away and gets sucked in by her own spell. Maybe magic can’t save the world, but love might be able to salvage what’s left.

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About the Author:

Ann Gimpel is a mountaineer at heart. Recently retired from a long career as a psychologist, she remembers many hours at her desk where her body may have been stuck inside four walls, but her soul was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry. Around the turn of the last century (that would be 2000, not 1900!), she managed to finagle moving to the Eastern Sierra, a mecca for those in love with the mountains. It was during long backcountry treks that Ann’s writing evolved. Unlike some who see the backcountry as an excuse to drag friends and relatives along, Ann prefers solitude. Stories always ran around in her head on those journeys, sometimes as a hedge against abject terror when challenging conditions made her fear for her life, sometimes for company. Eventually, she returned from a trip and sat down at the computer. Three months later, a five hundred page novel emerged. Oh, it wasn’t very good, but it was a beginning. And, she learned a lot between writing that novel and its sequel.

Around that time, a friend of hers suggested she try her hand at short stories. It didn’t take long before that first story found its way into print and they’ve been accepted pretty regularly since then. One of Ann’s passions has always been ecology, so her tales often have a green twist.

In addition to writing, Ann enjoys wilderness photography. She lugs pounds of camera equipment in her backpack to distant locales every year. A standing joke is that over ten percent of her pack weight is camera gear which means someone else has to carry the food! That someone is her husband. They’ve shared a life together for a very long time. Children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out their family.

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