Big, Fat, Scary, #Halloween #Reads!

Halloween is my favorite time of the year! I'm gonna be a witch...AGAIN! Big surprise, huh? I promise not to cast a spell on you...unless you're naughty..hey, you know who you are!!

What are you dressing up for this Halloween? How about your kids? My daughter will be a vampire and my son will be the Amazing Spiderman!

In honor of Halloween, I've dropped my book prices! So load up your pumpkins, your Kindles and your Nooks with a little scary, a little romantic, a little sweet and don't forget Wolfgang Pie's book for your little ones for only 99 cents!

Happy Halloween and Keep Reading!
~Alisha, Ruby Vines and Wolfgang Pie

Tusk: HALLOWEEN PRICE ~ .99! (Ice Age Adventure for All Ages)

Blurb: Two Ice Age kids are orphaned and left to survive alone in the wild after their parents are killed in a bear attack. Tusk and his sister, Flint, discover ancient cave paintings with a horrific warning and instructions on how to survive a deadly meteor headed their way. Tusk is a natural born leader and believes only he can warn others and lead the clans to the land bridge and the New World. Flint has secrets of her own and a plan with a woolly mammoth to unite the animal kingdom before their world is blown away.

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR KINDLE

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR NOOK

Deadly R&R: HALLOWEEN PRICE ~ .99! (Steamy Romantic Thriller)

Blurb: Shay Reynolds was raised solely by her father and abandoned by her mother at an early age. Old enough now to take the reins of her father's business, R&R Advertisting in Palm Springs, Florida, she's about as happy and as successful as a modern woman can get without a mother. Engaged to handsome Chase McMillan, an anchor on the popular national morning television show in New York City with her ads regularly nominated for the prestigious Clio Awards, she's a woman accustomed to life handing her roses. Her good fortune takes a nose dive when her fiance dies mysteriously. Falling into a deep depression, Shay confides in her chauffeur, Tommy Smith and agrees to hire his father's private eye service to investigate. Afraid to be alone, Shay shares her thoughts and broken dreams with Tommy. A serial killer is on the loose. Bad timing for Tommy who has always had it bad for his boss. Hot on the trail of a sicko who enjoys the shock factor of cryptic messages and creepy packages sent to the object of his affection, Tommy fights to shield the only woman who has never treated him like a hired hand.

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR KINDLE

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR NOOK

Voodoo Moon: HALLOWEEN PRICE ~ .99! (Steamy yet Scary Ghost/Shapeshifter Romance)

Blurb: When London rock star, Tammie Palmer inherits the historic plantation, Rose
Hall in Montego Bay, Jamaica, she decides to make it her new recording studio, moving her band, Witch Storm, to the haunted mansion. Tales of her ancestor, Annie Palmer have been floating around Jamaica for nearly two centuries. Horrifying acts of slave torture, black magick, Haitian voodoo and murder are part of the legend of the White Witch of Rose Hall.

Ancient spells conjure a powerful houngan from the 1800's. A voodoo priest who performed black magick to shift into a wolf in order to save his wife, Daisy from the White Witch. Now he's alive again, hell-bent on revenge against the witch's ancestor. But how can the shifter voodoo-king punish a woman whose scent reminds him of his former love? Can he confront his past and survive in this new world as a beast, without falling in love with his enemy?

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR KINDLE

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR NOOK


The Wooden Nickel: HALLOWEEN PRICE ~ .99! (Sweet Romantic Historical Set in WWII)

Blurb: When Louise steps into a bread line in the middle of a dusty Texas town, the last thing she expects to find is a filthy hobo-boy taking pity on her. But when Cliff offers her his last piece of change, a worthless wooden nickel, her life changes forever. The Depression era coin proves to be worth far more than the five cents etched beside the wooden buffalo as it becomes a symbol of faith, hope and love, weaving in and out of their lives time and time again.

The Wooden Nickel is an emotional gripping tale about a bond between two young lovers trying to find their way in the world. An intense drama, unfolding amid the backdrop of war torn Europe and a naive America, desperately in need of new hope, The Wooden Nickel is an unforgettable romance full of mesmerizing characters, deep longing and eternal hope.

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR KINDLE

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR NOOK

The Hour Glass Witch: HALLOWEEN PRICE ~ .99! (Steamy Romantic Time-Travel)

Blurb: Travel back to the Salem Witch Hunt when a wicked glance could have you hanging from the gallows, convicted of lustful witchcraft! Accused of being a witch, Clio, the Muse of History is thrown in prison by a former lover from another life. To escape the gallows, she flees back in time, to the Italian Renaissance, where she becomes a courtesan for a famous Italian painter, living a life of luxury while pining for her lost love. Her favorite god and good friend, Dionysus, is living it up in Tuscany. He invites her to a wild party at his palace where she runs smack-dab into her destiny, only to be separated once more by the Queen of Gorgons. While the sands of time run out, she travels to Hades to face the hounds of Hell in search of her love. Can she salvage her one true love, please the gods and save the lost souls of Salem?

CLICK HERE TO BUY FOR YOUR KINDLE

CLICK HERE TO BUY FOR YOUR NOOK

Nocturnally Vexed: HALLOWEEN PRICE ~ 2.99! (Steamy Vampire/Shapeshifter Romantic Thriller)

Blurb: King’s Cross Station, London, England, 2006
-“He’s killed again, Vex.” Vex stared at the grainy black and
white photos, taken one hundred and eighteen years earlier, comparing them to
the full color photos taken overnight. Detective Red O’Malley had no choice but
to ask for his help. Vex was their last resort. He was used to dealing with the
undead, whether it be of the blood sucker variety or the elusive shifter-rapt,
after all, he was a combination of the two.

Vex Savaker works as special detective for the Metropolitan Police and has been called to work on the recent Whitechapel killings. The murders resemble the autumn killings of 1888 when Jack-the-Ripper terrorized London. Chastity “Chass” Bartholomew is a seasoned investigative reporter working for London’s newspaper, The Daily Mirror. Chass’s virgin status is far too dangerous with a modern day Jack-the-Ripper on a virgin killing spree. Nunhead Cemetery is a hotbed of paranormal activity and unexplained phemomena but Chass is just too good of a reporter to stay away. Can Vex protect her from the night creatures of London and steer the killer away? Can he protect her from his own dark side, from the beasts within?

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR KINDLE

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR NOOK

Canyon Wolf Bride: HALLOWEEN PRICE ~ 2.99! (Steamy Werewolf Romance Nominated for Best Romance of 2007 at Night Owl Romance!!!)

Blurb: The long awaited re-release of Alisha Paige's debut novel has arrived! Canyon Wolf Bride was awarded Recommended Read at My Book Cravings, Reviewer's Top Pick at Night Owl Romance and nominated for Best Paranormal Romance of 2007 at Long and Short Reviews!

When Olympic ski champion, Sean Wilson, takes his best friend’s widow, museum curator, Paige Wellington, on a vacation to The Grand Canyon, he’s attracted to more than the beauty of his companion and the magnificent scenery. Sean discovers an entire pack of werewolves thriving in a canyon paradise. The Havasupai, known as the people of the blue-green waters, share his genetic defect, the werewolf gene. Paige learns the secret of the wolf tribe and struggles with her decision to end their relationship, unable to imagine herself married to a half-man, half-wolf creature. Sean wars against the beast within. Even as the werewolf, he is an intelligent and keen animal, never losing touch with the man lurking beneath the fur and never losing sight of the woman he loves. Will the wolf gene keep them together or tear them apart?

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR KINDLE

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR NOOK

Circle City: Lord of the Wolfen ~ Book I: HALLOWEEN PRICE ~ 4.99

(WARNING: NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART!! ULTRA DARK HORROR EROTICA! Perfect Halloween Read for the Daring Reader!)

Blurb: WELCOME TO AXL WOLFDORN'S WORLD WHERE THE WOLFEN HAVE LIVED AND THRIVED IN UNDERGROUND CAVERNS FOR 1500 YEARS...

On the edge of civilization, there is a place called Circle City, Alaska. The last town before the Yukon Flats gives way to frigid desolation.

DON'T TAKE IN STRAYS IN CIRCLE CITY...

When Zoe O'Brien, a secluded widow, kills a crazed mother wolf and saves the only cub from sure death, she ignites a war between the Wolfen Clan and the Kontar Clan. The wolf people have been enemies of the dog people for centuries and the cub she takes in is heir to the Wolfen throne.

CAUGHT AND IMPRISONED BY WILD CREATURES WHO CARE NOTHING FOR HUMAN LAW...

Taken prisoner by the Wolfen for murder and kidnapping, Zoe is forced to see and do things with creatures she never knew existed, held against her will in a world she both desires and fears.

A MAN ON THE EDGE OF TURNING INTO A BEAST...

Axl Wolfdorn is coming of age, ready for his Unleashing and on the hunt for his Moonswan, the female he will choose for the Chase and the royal Feral Consummation.

A WOMAN WHO SHOWED COMPASSION....

But how can he consider bonding with a mate when the only scent deep within his nose is the tangy scent of the woman who saved his life, the very woman who forced his clan into war, the woman he must now kill to avenge his mother's death?

CIRCLE CITY: LORD OF THE WOLFEN ~ BOOK I
How much wild can one woman take? Do you have enough wild in you to make it to The End?

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR KINDLE

CLICK TO BUY FOR YOUR NOOK

Scary #Halloween #Romance! Ghosts, Voodoo and Shapeshifters!

Do you like to read creepy ghost stories in celebration of Halloween and those crisp fall evenings? I do! When I visited Rose Hall Plantation on my honeymoon in Montego Bay, Jamaica, I was captivated by the true life legend of Annie Palmer, the wife of a wealthy plantation owner who killed her husband and many more husbands after. Raised by a Haitian nanny who taught Voodoo to little Annie, she was considered a very powerful witch. Nicknamed, The White Witch by her slaves, she certainly lived up to her name, filling their lives with terror and death. Recorded history says that she slept with many of her male slaves and then killed them. Visiting the dungeon where Annie kept her slaves gave me the chills and to know that her ghost still roams the plantation where she is buried today...well, I knew I had to write a fictional tale based on the true story. I hope my readers enjoy Voodoo Moon as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Spread Love ~ Alisha

Blurb:When London rock star, Tammie Palmer inherits the historic plantation, Rose
Hall in Montego Bay, Jamaica, she decides to make it her new recording studio,
moving her band, Witch Storm, to the haunted mansion. Tales of her ancestor,
Annie Palmer have been floating around Jamaica for nearly two centuries.
Horrifying acts of slave torture, black magick, Haitian voodoo and murder are
part of the legend of the White Witch of Rose Hall.

Ancient spells conjure a powerful houngan from the 1800's. A voodoo priest who
performed black magick to shift into a wolf in order to save his wife, Daisy from the White Witch. Now he's alive again, hell-bent on revenge against the witch's ancestor. But how can the shifter voodoo-king punish a woman whose scent reminds him of his former love? Can he confront his past and survive in this new world as a beast, without falling in love with his enemy?

Amazon Buy Link

Barnes and Noble Buy Link

How to Contact the Dead ~ WARNING: VERY SCARY!!!

Today is All Hallow's Eve, the day when the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest. Have you ever seen a ghost, communicated with a ghost or felt a ghost? Some have even smelled a ghost..the scent of rose or the stench of death.

NOTE: In honor of this day, I'm giving away one ebook of my full length werewolf romance, Circle City: Lord of the Wolfen to the person who posts the scariest real life experience with a ghost.

I myself have experienced some paranormal activity of the friendly kind in my own home. I live in a house built in the 50's. Mostly one family lived in this home and we're pretty sure it is haunted by the man of the house but he mostly stays outside in the backyard in the work shed. He likes to slam the big heavy door, even though it has a spring and could not be opened without force. He enjoys flipping the lights on and off too. Creepy! Other than that, he stays pretty quiet. His name is Mr. Crawford and is a friendly spirit. Mrs. Crawford moved out of this home six years ago and moved in with one of her three grown sons. I wonder if he ever visits his wife?

I've also had what psychics call a "Spirit Guide" visit me in my dreams during a very difficult time in my life. I was pullled aside by this spirit, physically and spiritually. I call it a virtual slap to the face. I was told not to worry about the turmoil in my life and that the evil spirit working against me had a very long history of this type of behavior and others knew about it. I was made aware of the fact that I'm taken care of and watched over. This dream was very real and with it came much peace and comfort. Was this real contact with a spirit guide or a dead person or what? What do you think? Do you talk to the dead? How do we talk to the dead?

Let's find out.

THE OUIGA BOARD

Wikipedia Definition - It uses a planchette (small heart-shaped piece of wood) or movable indicator to indicate the spirit's message by spelling it out on the board during a séance. Participants place their fingers on the planchette and it is moved about the board to spell out words. It has become a trademark that is often used generically to refer to any talking board.

Following its commercial introduction by businessman Elijah Bond on July 1, 1890, the Ouija board was regarded as a harmless parlor game unrelated to the occult until American Spiritualist Pearl Curran popularized its use as a divining tool during World War I.

Mainstream religions and some occultists have associated use of the Ouija board with the threat of demonic possession and some have cautioned their followers not to use Ouija boards.

While Ouija believers feel the paranormal or supernatural is responsible for Ouija's action, it may be parsimoniously explained by unconscious movements of those controlling the pointer, a psychophysiological phenomenon known as the ideomotor effect. Despite being debunked by the efforts of the scientific community, Ouija remains popular among many young people

Who has a ouiga board? I do but I don't use it. I brought it out for Halloween mostliy as a decoration. When we first moved into this house, we tried to use it, just playing around one night while drinking wine. We asked who lived here. We kept getting one answer. MOM. Uh....ok. We asked when this person lived here. We got this answer. 1956. Mr. Crawford didn't want to talk. Maybe Mom is the one in the shed but I don't think so. Mr. Crawford built that shed. Who is Mom? A family before the Crawfords? To my knowledge, the Crawfords were the main family to live in this home. Maybe there was another home on this property years ago. This home was built in 55 though so maybe the Crawfords had a mother live here besides the Mrs. Crawford who we believe is still alive or was alive six years ago. Maybe the grandma. She definitely wanted to talk to us but we were a little freaked so we stopped.

Scrying

Wikipedia Definition - Scrying (also called seeing or peeping) is a magic practice that involves seeing things psychically in a medium, usually for purposes of obtaining spiritual visions and less often for purposes of divination or fortune-telling. The most common media used are reflective, translucent, or luminescent substances such as crystals, stones, glass, mirrors, water, fire, or smoke. Scrying has been used in many cultures as a means of divining the past, present, or future. Depending on the culture and practice, the visions that come when one stares into the media are thought to come from God, spirits, the psychic mind, the devil, or the subconscious.

Although scrying is most commonly done with a crystal ball, it may also be performed using any smooth surface, such as a bowl of liquid, a pond, or a crystal.

Scrying is actively used by many cultures and belief systems and is not limited to one tradition or ideology. As of 2009[update], Ganzfeld experiments, a sensory deprivation experiment inspired by scrying, provides the best known experimental setting for detecting psi abilities in the laboratory.

MANY SCRYERS TODAY USE MIRRORS.

Man in the mirror taken in room 410 in the Place D'Armes hotel in the French Quarter, New Orleans

The following article is copied from Ghostvillage.com and posted by Moon Child

Some people feel the intense need to communicate with someone who is dead. Usually, they desire to contact a loved one that they have lost or some simply harbor a fascination with death or the dead. When one wishes to reconnect with the presence of someone they have lost, they may turn to methods involving communication with the dead.

When one is interested in contacting the dead, there are a few techniques that can be followed, according to a Dr. Raymond Moody, who claims to be quite an expert when it comes to near-death experiences, as well as the afterlife. Moody suggests a technique that was used during ancient times for those who wanted to receive a vision. It is said that Nostradamus used this approach when he was foretelling the future. It simply involves a large mirror, as well as a variety of suggestions to ensure a positive and successful line of contact. Below you will find a checklist to follow when you want to attempt communication between the dead.

1) To gain a clear state of mind, one should refrain from consuming products that contain dairy and caffeine the day before an encounter is attempted. Fruits and vegetables should be the only simple foods that are consumed.

2) When attempting to contact the dead, you should position yourself in the quietest section of your dwellings. Watches and jewelry should be removed; loose clothing should be worn. Relaxation is the key for those who wish to contact the dead. Distractions, such as clocks and phones should be unplugged. When complete silence is achieved, a large mirror should be placed in front of you. The mirror should be at an angle that promotes comfortableness.

3) If you are having trouble reaching an altered state of mind, looking at artwork or listening to calming music can achieve a sense of awareness conducive to this type of act.

4) If you are trying to contact a loved one, you should surround yourself with some of their photographs, as well as their personal items. Touching the objects will bring you closer to who you are trying to contact. Some of the items you may choose to set about you may include family films, photo albums, old letters, glasses, a piece of their clothing, as well as a few of their favorite things. Anything that evokes feelings or memories should be used.

5) Light a candle and put it behind you. When dim light is used, it is best that it be placed behind your body. It is said that twilight hours is the best time to communicate with the dead because many people experience altered states. Some can mirror gaze surrounded by bright lights, but this takes time to get use to, as well as achieve.

6) When you are ready to mirror gaze, you should be in a comfortable, relaxed position. You will gaze into the mirror without trying to see anything; it will be similar to looking at something that is located far from view. You may start to feel a tingling within your fingertips.

7) The mirror may seem cloudy after some time, while others have reported that the mirror becomes darker in color. When things within the mirror do not seem as clear as they did before, you may be ready to experience contact with the dead.

8) Complete silence should still be maintained. Allow yourself to view the images that appear to you within the mirror (if you are lucky to experience this phase). The images that you may encounter will probably last for only less than a minute. Some people are able to view images for as long as 10 minutes, but this may take some time to develop. Sometimes you may not see a thing, but will instead hear the voice of your loved one. Some have claimed to actually feel their touch. Experiences with mirror gazing can be quite varied.

****taken from an article by Yona Williams****

THE SEANCE

Wikipedia definition - A séance is an attempt to communicate with spirits. The word "séance" comes from the French word for "seat," "session" or "sitting," from the Old French "seoir," "to sit." In French, the word's meaning is quite general: one may, for example, speak of "une séance de cinéma" ("a movie session"). In English, however, the word came to be used specifically for a meeting of people who are gathered to receive messages from spirits or to listen to a spirit medium discourse with or relay messages from spirits; many people, including skeptics and non-believers, treat it as a form of entertainment. In modern English usage, participants need not be seated while engaged in a séance.

One of the earliest books on the subject of communication amongst deceased persons was Communitation With the Other Side by George, First Baron Lyttelton, published in England in 1760. Among the notable spirits quoted in this volume are Peter the Great, Pericles, a "North-American Savage," William Penn, and Christina Queen of Sweden. The popularity of séances grew dramatically with the founding of the religion of Spiritualism in the mid-nineteenth century. Perhaps the best-known series of séances conducted at that time were those of Mary Todd Lincoln who, grieving the loss of her son, organized Spiritualist séances in the White House, which were attended by her husband, President Abraham Lincoln, and other prominent members of society.

HAVE YOU EVER CONTACTED THE DEAD? I'D LOVE TO HEAR YOUR EXPERIENCES TODAY! I'M WRITING A BOOK ON CONTACTING THE DEAD. LET ME KNOW IF YOU'D LIKE YOUR EXPERIENCE INCLUDED IN MY UPCOMING BOOK or email me your experience at alishapaigewilson@yahoo.com.

TODAY'S CONTEST: I'm choosing the scariest experience as the winner and will award an ebook copy of Circle City: Lord of the Wolfen ~ Book I. WINNER WILL BE ANNOUNCED ON NOVEMBER 1ST, HERE!

~Happy Halloween to those living and especially those who have gone before us!

Spread Love and Goodness,
Alisha

**Photos courtesy of Photobucket.com***

HALLOWEEN BASH ~ DELICIOUS TEMPTATIONS FROM SKY

Alisha: Okay, readers! Ready to sink your teeth into some luscious treats from Sky? ME TOO! Enjoy! Mmmmmm....

Sky: Welcome all! I’ll admit it… I’ve been looking forward to this day all week. Why? I get to share some excerpts from my recently re-launched MacLomain Series. In case you’re popping in for the first time, this series consists of one short story and three full length novels. ATTENTION: Prizes being given away tomorrow and Saturday. Stay tuned!


THE KING’S DRUIDESS (THE MACLOMAIN SERIES- PRELUDE)…. An almost super-steamy scene *winks*
At arm’s length, he stopped. "Druidess, you are even lovelier than I remember."
I wish I didn’t have to abide by formalities. I wish I could tell you what I’m feeling. She touched his bare chest. His skin felt hot, as if he burned with tightly restrained energy. "Were we not still in macdacht, children when we last met?"
His muscles rippled and his hand covered hers. "We were as you say, but we are grown now. And we are both led to this place at this time."
Thump. Thump. Erc's heart beat strong beneath her fingertips. His heat scorched her blood. "So we meet with one purpose."
He gently pulled back her hood. "I cannot promise you that."
Erc’s fingers ran though her hair, sifted through the ebony lengths. Chiomara drifted closer and whispered, "Do they not foretell us coming together for one purpose?"
His words turned sensuous and contemplative. "They do. But what do they know of how I will feel once I’ve tasted you?"


FATE’S MONOLITH (THE MACLOMAIN SERIES- BOOK 1)
An intense, dramatic scene….
He scooped her up into his arms.
Arianna pushed against his chest as though that would accomplish anything. "Put me down." Don't put me down.
He said nothing while he strode down the hallway. They entered the bedchamber where he paused long enough to throw her onto the mammoth bed.
"I don’t want you." She should have left by now. She knew this would happen.
Iain came down on top of her. "Is that really how you feel, lass.” He ground his urgent erection against her. “Truly?”
She couldn’t move as his muscled body pressed against hers. Too aware of every hard, aroused inch of him, Arianna stilled.
"I am of my own mind." He was too close. Too perfect. "I should always be free to act however I choose. I won't be controlled."
"Aye, luv." He ran his lower lip along her jaw line, sweeping just below her lips. “And I liked the way you acted on the field. Nothing like a Scottish lass with a temper.”
He called me love. He did not say he loved me. She longed for breath as his lips hovered over hers. "You're willing to accept that?"
“What?” He pulled his lips away and pressed them tenderly between her eyes and then her forehead. “Anything, luv.” Iain used his weight to pin her and rained kisses on every inch of her face. Hungry, he traveled down her neck. He wrapped his arms around her lower back and pulled her slightly off the bed, exposing the shear plane of neck he now dominated.
Air came to her in short sporadic wisps. She breathed as though she'd cried for hours. Vulnerable to his aggression, she slid her hands up to push him away. They met bare, muscled flesh.
I have one more chance to stop him. Salvage this beautiful man for the woman to whom he belongs. She had to stop him. What if she became pregnant? Was already pregnant? Under different circumstances, she'd be thrilled. Regrettably, their situation was far too precarious. The woman coming, the 'real' Arianna, did not deserve such a situation. Nor did Iain.
With ferocious resolve, Arianna lashed out. She pushed his chest away and managed to wiggle out from underneath him.
Iain protected himself when she attacked. He shook off the slap she'd dealt him. "What fire burns in your belly?" Anger combined with lust. "I have done you no wrong, lass."
Aye, but you have. You don’t love me. You only wish to lay with me! Heck if she’d ever tell him that though.
"I have told you before and it appears I will have to say it again. I'm not the woman you think I am." Arianna ran to the door and gave it a quick tug. It was locked?
"Bloody hell." This is silly. Why was she doing this? Arianna could admit that she continually yanked him in different directions when it came to intimacy. Right. Wrong. Right. Wrong. It was simply a tug-of-war within her mind. She turned to confront her husband. Thinking he was still on the bed was foolish. Before she knew what hit her he had her backed against the door, his wolfish eyes mere inches from hers.
His voice was low and dark. He clenched his jaw. "You make no sense, lass. You never have, so lose this tired tale and know that you're mine, completely and thoroughly mine."
He must’ve seen something in her eyes he didn’t like because the next thing she knew he turned, strode to the hearth and flicked his wrist. A fire sprang to life. He leaned his forehead against the stone and stared deep into the flames. "I’m sorry. I didnae mean to scare you. You vex me."
Arianna didn’t move. Scare her? She’d never heard such tormented words when he spoke. Did he really consider her his? Aye, as a possession of course, not as his love. Closing her eyes, she tried to find solace in the burning need she’d heard in his voice, the unabashed need in his gaze when he’d spoken. Opening her eyes, she ignored the tears that fell from her eyes and accepted the truth.
She was lost in time. Lost in him. Misplaced by fate.


DESTINY’S DENIAL (THE MAC’LOMAIN SERIES- BOOK 2)
I loved writing this scene. I grabbed a portion from the end of one chapter and the start of another. Let’s label this one a…. “Oh no, run for your life!” scene. *Smirks*
Shane looked at Adlin and pursed his lips. "I'm pretty sure he's getting ready to give the go ahead to every single man here to chase you women down into the woods behind us, pair up and spend the night together."
Caitlin grabbed her brother's arm. "You mean sex?"
"Yep." Shane pointed at the forest behind him with his thumb. "In there, all night, no questions asked."
Caitlin's eyes whipped to Adlin. "Not me?"
Shane nodded. "I'd say you’re part of the package."
She looked to where Arthur and Alan stood. They looked right back. Their bodies were locked and their expressions feral. This was ridiculous.
"Ah, Caitlin?" Shane shoved her to the edge of the log.
She looked at him, panicked. "What?"
"Run!"
Adlin's cane came down and the crowd burst with life. She didn't bother holding her ground or questioning the sanity of this.
She ran.
Chapter Break….
The night had turned moonless.
Black puddles of nothing swallowed Caitlin while she ran through the Highland forest as fast as she could. Please don’t let me run into a tree! The pine needles underfoot muffled the sounds of dozens of feet behind her.
No. No. No. She ran harder, pushing her leg muscles to an impossible pace. All she could focus on was escape. She didn’t want to sleep with either Arthur or Alan and knew with horrible certainty both of them were closing in.
"Slow down, lass." Alan's voice was right behind her. She banked a hard left and sprinted forward. After a three second count she veered right. Evade. Evade. She repeated the words in her head and prayed for sanctity wherever she could find it. Mid-flight a hard arm came around her midsection and pulled her back. She was lifted and flung over his shoulder.
Then he was running.
Caitlin couldn’t breathe. Darkness pickled her vision and bore through coherent thought. Then water poured over her back briefly in icy sheets. She closed her eyes and tried to grab at the granite muscled back. As she worked to clear her muddled mind and find the words to get herself out of this situation, scent flooded her…male and sweet.
This was not Alan.
Flipped down onto a bed of soft grass, she opened her eyes. A single torch burned in a bracket attached to the wall of a wide cave. The air simmered warm and humid. A glass of silky white water crashed over the entrance like a magical door. Wild orchids grew in clusters everywhere, their scent potent.
A man kneeled over her, his features hidden in the shadows.
"You're a foolish lass, Caitlin." His eyes blazed blue as he pulled her forward. "You didnae run fast enough."
Caitlin kneeled. She didn't run fast enough? Did that mean—?
Her thoughts were cut short when he wrapped his hands into her hair and angled her head to look up at him. "Now, you're mine."
Ferchar. But of course it was Ferchar.
His hair and skin were wet. Drops slid onto his neck and whirled down his wide chest. Yellow dandelions and cat's ear bloomed beneath them and verdant moss covered the stone beside them in plush velvet.
Her eyes met his. The nerve of the man! "No, I'm not."
Ferchar's mouth took hers with such vengeance she leaned back. He guided her lips, allowing her no control. One hand kept her head and the other wrapped around her waist. Oh dear God! Her body suddenly felt weak and light and very, very needy.
Cool water dripped from above and mixed with the taste of his hot lips. Pull away. Say no to this! But she couldn’t resist him. He felt too damned good. Caitlin wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on. The man could kiss. When his tongue swooped in and twirled with hers, she moaned and ran her fingers through his thick hair.
The Devil's whip couldn’t be as fiery as the searing burn that filled her veins. Magic. His magic. She didn’t fight it but followed his lead. The grass steamed below and the torch flickered.
"Ferchar," Caitlin whispered as his talented lips trailed the length of her neck. His wet hair brushed her collarbone and ripples of pleasure raked her from head to toe.
"Just this. Us. This eve." His words scorched her skin, branding it.


SYLVAN MIST (THE MAC’LOMAIN SERIES- BOOK 3)
There’s nothing quite as powerful as that first moment of pure, unabashed romance. How it always seems to catch you off guard… Lord, I love William! And he only gets better.
Coira yawned and snuggled closer to the fire.
Had she ever been this comfortable? The heavy thud of rain pelted the ceiling overhead. Her mother must be cooking something scrumptious. It smelled wonderful, slightly sweet, apples? No. More like cinnamon and nutmeg melting over a low flame, yet earthy and potent. What was that?
She smiled and opened her eyes. My, it was dark in her room, must be the storm outside. Then the rain became the steady thud of a heart and her pillow became the muscled chest of a man.
Coira froze. Where was she?
"I know you're awake, lass." The brogue was as deep and sensual as smooth whisky.
She jerked up and slammed into the pewter gaze of the man staring down at her. She sat cradled in his lap, both his strong arms and a rough tartan cocooning her. Darn it.
"Release me this instant, you lout!" she hissed.
William did not release her but bared his straight white teeth in a wolfish grin and pulled her closer. "But you seemed so peaceable a moment ago. In fact, if I didnae know better I would have thought you—"
She clamped a hand over his mouth, knowing full well he was about to say something appalling. She narrowed her eyes. "Shush."
"Shush?" He pried her hand from his mouth but did not release it. Instead he turned it over, his eyes falling to the glimmering diamond engagement ring on her finger. "Do you love him?"
She hadn't expected the question and he knew it. "Of course I do."
His silver regard returned to her face. Whatever he saw there pleased him. "As a friend."
She frowned. No. Not as a friend, as a fiancé. "No, as a man."
Were his lips edging closer?
His hand rose to her face and traced her jaw line. "A man who is a friend."
What did he just say? His forefinger and thumb clutched her chin. She would not be distracted and spoke with a level of calm she didn't feel. "A friend who is a fiancé." Lord, that hadn't come out right at all.
"So 'tis to be a marriage of convenience." His throaty declaration brought his lips closer.
Her eyelids became very heavy, and her lips throbbed. "Is it not convenient to marry a friend?" Again, not what she intended to voice.
His lips were within an inch of hers, his burr soft. "Aye, 'tis convenient enough, but what of passion?"
Never impulsive, she was shocked by her own curiosity and closed the distance. When her lips touched his, everything fell away. Searing heat flooded first her face, then neck, until it burned a path to her stomach. Tendrils of pleasure engulfed her torso and magnified sensation when his lips spread hers and dove deeper.
She heard a distant moan and was shocked to realize it came from her. All she could taste was heat and sweetness. When their tongues met, gravity released and her hands wandered without control. She traced the hollows beneath his strong cheekbones, the cords of his muscled neck. Then the threads of tendons that led to the rapid pulse above his collarbone.
His growl filled her mouth and his hands cupped either side of her face. She had no choice but to respond and wrapped her hands into his hair. An eagle overhead tossed a cruel cry into her reverie, and William pulled back.
Then Coira realized what she had been doing. And who she had been doing it in front of.


SKY HERE! Hope you enjoyed all these excerpts. I totally adore all of my characters and hope you’ll take the time to get to know them better. .99 cents a title for years of work and love. Win, win. But they’re worth it! If they’ve already caught your attention zip on over to Amazon, Barnes & Nobles Nook or Smashwords to grab your copy.

I have a super special post planned here tomorrow. It’s quick and to the point. All you have to do is show up and…well, details will be given then. The prize on the table? The King’s Druidess (The MacLomain Series- Prelude) and Fate’s Monolith (The MacLomain Series- Book 1).

Saturday, I’m giving away EVEN more. One lucky commenter that day wins not only the entire MacLomain Series but a box of chocolates! Yum!

AND, in honor of Halloween and all you ghost lovers out there, there’s a bonus prize. Chance to win the first novel in my upcoming romantic Paranormal Ghost Hunters trilogy, The Victorian’s Lure. PRINT version! (Due to be shipped the second week in November)

Until then… be good.
Sky

HALLOWEEN BASH Kick Off with Sky Purington!

Alisha: I'm thrilled to death to welcome my very good friend and amazing author, Sky Purington to my Halloween Bash! You're in for a real treat this week! No tricks here! Sky will be joining us ALL WEEK LONG to kick off Halloween! Get your candy corn and hot apple cider ready. Pull up a broomstick and soak in all that is THE fabulous Sky! Thank you, thank you, thank you celebrating Halloween with me, Sky! I'm busy making candy apples, carving jack o'lanterns and baking Halloween cakes for the big day! Please tell us about your journey to publication, your books and your upcoming books!


Sky: Hello everyone! I’d like to thank Alisha for having me over this week. Hard to believe it’s nearly Halloween. Without doubt, this is one of my favorite times of the year. After all, next Monday the veil between the ‘worlds’ is at its thinnest. If you’re a fan of anything paranormal, especially ghosts, you know exactly what I’m talking about.




That said, let me introduce myself. My name is Sky Purington and I write a cross-genre of fantasy/paranormal romance. From the day I was able to write full sentences (around seven) I’ve been penning stories. In 2007, I published my first story with The Wild Rose Press. Since then, I’ve been typing away and have quite a few more tales under my belt. This year I re-launched my Highlander Series and joined the fabulous world of Indie Authors.




To date, I’ve covered everything from Irish Druids to sexy time-traveling, Scottish Highlander wizards. Added to the list, sexy-as-get-out vampires and coming soon, a novel trilogy that covers three hot paranormal investigators turned warlock.



In my upcoming Calum’s Curse trilogy (which includes characters from my Highlander Series), think not only vampires but werewolves and reapers. While not erotica, all of my novels are very sexual and intended for a mature audience. *Wicked grin*
This week I’ll be chatting about my MacLomain Series (Highlanders). One short tale and three full novels available through Amazon, Nook and Smashwords now for .99 cents each. Hope you enjoy!
Best Always,
~Sky

Sky's Website

A Writer’s Mind Blog

Visit Sky on Twitter: @SkyPurington

COME BACK TOMORROW! SKY WILL BE TALKING ABOUT HER WRITING METHOD.

LEAVE A COMMENT TODAY AND IF YOU'RE A LUCKY LITTLE GOBLIN, YOU'LL WIN BOOKS AND CHOCOLATE WHEN SKY DRAWS A NAME ON SATURDAY!

~HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Craziest Halloween Book Signing Ever by Alisha Paige!

As the leaves begin to turn and fall from the trees, I generally do more book signings because of the simple fact that I'm a paranormal author. Sometimes I may do four to five signings in October.

Well, last year I was asked to sign books at a wine shop in my hometown on Halloween afternoon! Coolest! I'd get to sign books, wear my silly witch hat and drink wine with other wine drinkers who might just get tipsy enough to stroll over and talk to the goofy witch and maybe, just maybe buy a book. My book signing was scheduled for a couple of hours and I'd have time to run home, grab my three little goblins and head out the door for trick or treating! Awesome! I was all set! I had my books lined up on my spooky Halloween table cloth, wine in hand, witch hat on and I was ready for my fans. Well...I think my only fan for the first hour or so was the cricket in the corner. BTW, it didn't help that the wine shop owner forgot to advertise my signing with the adorable posters I'd sent her. Nice...sigh.

So, I was there, burning up in a long witch dress, pointy witch hat and gold eye lashes longer than the Mississippi River. After a while a group of young women come in and sit at a nearby table and order lots of wine and cheese. Cool. Drink up, girls and mosey on over here. Come buy my Jack-the-Ripper Tale. Please! I'm lonely and my wine glass is empty. So, a few minutes pass and the wine shop owner comes to my table and leans over to whisper in my ear. "You about ready to do some readings?"

I swear my fake eyelashes hit my forehead! Readings? What readings? "Uh...readings?"

The lady's mouth falls open. "Yes. Readings. You said you were a paranormal author."

Uh..yeah, lady. I write about paranormal stuff...in the romance fiction world that means I write about vampires, werewolves, other-worldly stuff...ghosts..maybe..but I sure as hell don't talk to them. I DON'T see dead people. Ever.

"That's right. I'm a paranormal author. I write mostly werewolf books. Paranormal is a genre, not to be confused with paranormal activity."

The lady is not pleased. Her lips pucker and she stares at me with Lucille Ball eyeballs! "That table of women are all expecting readings!"

I lean over and say, "Are you telling me I need to give them readings, as in psychic?"

She nods.

"But I'm not a fortune teller."

She just stares and stomps her foot for a full minute, then says in an icy tone, "I think you should read for them."

"I can do that. I'll just fake it."

She smiles. Sort of. "Good. I'll tell them you're ready."

Holy crap! I can't believe I have to read for these people! I'm not a damn psychic! But I remember back to a psychic fair I went to with my good friend and remember all the psychics who read for me. I can do this. Just fake it. Tell them a bunch of happy bull crap! They're drunk! They won't know! Just do it! So the first girl rushes up, all excited and I ask for her hand. Hell! I don't even remember what all these lines stand for. I think this long one is the life line and then the love line...wow..uh..okay..here goes.

"Looks like you have had two very interesting romantic relationships. Both of them were very dear to your heart."

The girl nods and whispers. "Wow. You can see that?"

"Sure. See that line there? That's the love line. See how it breaks off into two here and then a third line, it goes to the end of your hand. That's your soulmate."

She giggles. I feed her some more bullcrap and she leaves all giddy and happy. Hell yeah! I can do this. The next girl comes up and I change it up a bit but say some more happy sunshine crapola and she trots off happy as a lark too. A line forms. I see like twenty women before the night is over and half of them tip me five bucks!

And I don't sell a single book. The wine shop lady rushes over as I'm making my way to the door and thanks me for a great night! "Can you come do this next Halloween?"

"Sure. Call me."

I walk to my car and toss my box of unsigned books into the back of my car and slide behind the wheel before glancing at my reflection in the rear view mirror and winking with golden eyelashes and giggling to myself. I drive off and floor it home, excited about dressing up my little ones for a night of trick or treating.

Happy Halloween!
~Alisha Paige

www.alishapaige.com

Haunted Blog!

HAUNTED BLOG TOUR








Haunted Blog Roll


Skhye Moncrief
Michele Hart
Marly Mathews
Elizabeth Melton Parson
Brenda Weaver
Hywela Lyn
Masha Holl
Sheri Lewis Wohl
Sister Writers
PL Parker
Sky Purington
Beth Caudill
Susan Saville
Tarah Scott
Betty Hanawa

~Find the hidden tombstones for an extra special treat from Mistress Skhye.

~Anyone who comments on my blog today is entered for a chance to win a download of my latest release, Nocturnally Vexed, just in time for Halloween!

Excerpt from Voodoo Moon by Alisha Paige (Not Contracted Yet)....FOR ADULTS ONLY (Contains Violence and Erotica)

Magenta colored rays of last light shot across the cane fields, turning the yellow stalks burnt orange by the time Talin knocked once on the back door of the great house. His own wife led him inside. Soon she’d be back home, beyond the cane fields, back in the bed where they loved one another. Where they dreamed of escape and a life together. Just the two of them, lying free on the white sands of Montego Bay. No chains to keep them. No fear. Both of them knew they’d likely die on the plantation but visions of freedom gave them a wisp of hope. Something to cling to during the hard times. Times like now.

“Ya is late. She asked for ya twice. Don’ keep her waiting again,” Daisy whispered, wide eyed. Afraid for them both. What if the White Witch knew? What if she knew of their secret marriage and planned to kill them both?

Talin fingered the peacock feather. He folded up the parchment paper into a tiny square and stuffed it into his pocket. Even stealing a sheet of parchment paper from her mistress could prove fatal, but the spell called for it.

Daisy glanced behind her and then stole a quick kiss. He took her face in his hands, watching the kitchen door, pulling her to him again. The feather tickled her cheek as he kissed her between heated, anxious breaths.

“I love ya. Don’ worry.”

Daisy nodded. “Hurry. Go to her.”

“Rusha home. Do the spell when da moon rises clear ovuh da cane fields.”

She pushed his chest with her palms. “I will-a. Go naw. And be careful,” she hissed as a tear dripped from her long eyelashes.

Talin frowned and kissed her one last time. “Don’ cry. Go home. I’ll see ya in the morn.”

Daisy let herself out and ran across the wide cane fields as the wind whistled into her ears. Dry, autumn leaves rustled in the breeze, twirling, dancing behind her, chasing her skirts as she fled home, crying silently, praying her love would return to her. Praying that the White Witch would spare her husband. A pain shot through her at the reality of it all. Now. Tonight. He would betray her. He had to or death would be swift.

Tonight he would lie with another woman. A wicked woman. Annie Palmer, the voodoo queen of Rose Hall. Of French heritage, she’d moved to Haiti at the tender age of ten. Both of her parents died of yellow fever and she was raised by her Haitian nanny, groomed for the black magick. And children are most impressionable while still in a state of innocence. Those taught the voodoo while still pure attain the darkest realms. And Annie was as black as a shadow during a new moon. No light came from her eyes. She was all death. All evil. Wicked through and through. The devil soared through her veins, lapping at any sense of good or human kindness. Nothing of the sort came from this kind of voodoo queen.

Her powers had grown tenfold over the years. Her slaves feared her. Her husbands feared her. If they survived. Two had not. And number three stayed away on business trips. It was no doubt she instructed him too. He was far too old and pudgy for her taste. His wealth served it’s purpose well. He kept the plantation’s cane business flourishing and she kept the slaves cowering in fear. To be called to work in the great house was no honor on this plantation. The home slaves lived in darkest dread. She killed for a wrong look or if even one of them became too ill to work. It was certain death, after weeks of torture in the dungeon beneath the house, days and nights filled with soaring rage from a woman so beautiful. No one could deny her beauty. The first taken to her chambers had thought their affair would seal his freedom. It was his death warrant.

Talin climbed the creaky stairs, leading to the White Witch’s bed chamber. He would be the third lover she’d taken this fall but he would not die like the previous two or the other dozen or so before him.

Rounding the hall leading to Annie’s bedroom, a blast of cold wind assaulted him. She was watching him. Goosebumps rose in swarms across his warm flesh. Spirits pushed him back. Good spirits. Loved ones. Ancestors that had come before him, pushing hard on his shoulders and chest. He grunted, walking through the phantom warnings. The dark hallway glowed with burning magick voodoo lamps; coconut shells, crabs shells and pumpkin gourds filled with bones, herbs, dirt, powders and petals floating in oil. A sorceress’s candle for the dead. She was calling out for protection for herself, destruction for others. Hideous evil, wicked intent bled from the walls, silently screaming throughout the halls of the great house. He wanted to run but could not. He would fight. She had no idea that Talin was a voodoo priest before enslavement. Back in Africa he was the magick one. The anointed one. A houngan sent by the spirits as a white priest.

Of goodness.

He’d been raised to exorcise the demons and now he would face one of the worst design. A beautiful seductress with a serpent’s soul.

He’d been able to conceal his priesthood. Goodness was often overlooked and so it was with him on the plantation. A leader of the slaves, in charge of hundreds that worked the cane fields. He knew she could read minds. Not his. He wouldn’t allow it. The magick wouldn’t allow it. He knew she would one day call on him. Take him as her lover as she did so many others. The spirits foretold it. He knew it as a boy in Africa. Visions of the sultry White Witch lying in her bedchambers floated through his dreams. Lying in wait in a red room. A murderess. He would end it all. She knew it, yet she did not.

Talin called to her. Called to the demon within and it only made her want him more. His power. His refusal to do her favors, falling for her acts of kindness. Like all the others. All of them dead now. How many times had she pretended to be smitten with a strong slave? A man in chains. A man she could control. A man she owned. All of them had thought she really loved them, that her infatuation with them would be their freedom. Her powers were so strong, so void of the light, they never saw it coming. Like a mother smothering a new born child. Her magick over them had made them believe. He would not. He would fight her and win.

Heavy rains pummeled the roof as he rapped on her door.
“Come in.”

Talin pushed the door open with two thick fingers, peering inside. She lay naked on red, silk sheets. He’d never seen her hair down. She was a sight. Beyond his imagination. A tiny miniature of a woman. Four foot ten in height with eyes the color of green meadows, hair black as a raven’s wing, trailing over her breasts in silky waves, her lips as full as an African woman, pursed and wet.

“Shut the door behind you,” she cooed.

Talin swallowed, shut the door and fingered the feather in his pocket. Her powers were already weakening him. He felt no more dread, no more darkness. Only hot, overbearing lust. His mind went numb. His cock throbbed, lifting against his trousers. She crooked her finger at him. He walked to the bed. Patting the pillow, she smiled, showing off brilliant white teeth, laughing, arching her slender, ivory neck. His erection grew. She drew a circle around both nipples with long, painted finger nails, licked her parted lips and opened her legs wide, her knees pointing to the ceiling, her wetness flickering in candle glow. Sweat slithered down his brow, over his nose, cheeks, dripping from his chin. The room was unbearably hot. A fever shot through him. Like iridescent poison, longing to race through him and kill him.

He was hers. Daisy was forgotten. He only wanted to sheathe himself inside of her, taste her, please her and make her scream. To bed this woman. A master of slaves. Tonight he would dominate and thrill the White Witch. Forget Black Magick. All he could see now was her. And himself inside of this beautiful creature. He had been born for this day and the ache was so fierce. The sting of it shocked him.

“Undress,” she ordered.

Talin did as he was told. Dropped his trousers, flung his shirt off his back and kicked off his shoes. Annie sucked in a throaty breath at the sight.

“Lands! You are a mighty buck!”

Talin’s erection throbbed before her as he walked to the bedside. Annie reached out, took him in her hands, spread her legs wider and touched herself. Talin groaned, ground his teeth.

Talin. He shut his eyes. Daisy was beginning the spell. Her soul was reaching out for his but it was all he could do to acknowledge that she was calling to him. He pushed her from his mind, wanting to be angry for it, wanting to connect with her, with his magic so he could push the White Witch away but he was drunk with lust, with fever for his master. She reached for him, took his hand and pulled him to her. Talin crawled over the bed, eyeing her, sitting on his knees as she rubbed him and touched herself. His teeth ached, trying to ward off the witch’s powers, wanting to connect with his frantic wife. Knowing somewhere in the deep caverns of his mind that he should connect with his wife.

Annie was stronger than even he guessed her to be. It would take every ounce to fight her off. She moaned, arching her back, her neck as she plunged slender fingers inside herself, writhing, licking her lips, hissing, moaning.

Talin.

Talin shook his head. Grunted.

Ezili Freda, goddess of love…save my love from the darkest, black magick …bring ‘im ‘ome to me.

“Lick me,” Annie begged.

Talin bent his head and when he did he curled into a ball, crying out in agony, holding himself as if he’d been kicked in the groin. Annie screeched, scrambling to her feet, pacing the room, drawing the curtains closed, blowing out the candles.

“Whose in here?” she demanded, panicked, pulling on a robe, searching beneath the bed and then the wardrobe across the room.

Talin lay there wincing in pain.

“What black magick travels to my room, preventing me from lying with this man? Show yourself!”

Talin, wide eyed, in excruciating pain realized for the first time that though he was too powerful for her to read his mind, she could read Daisy’s. He slammed his eyes shut, catapulting his soul back to their home. What spell had she cast to hurt him so? His spirit shuddered at the sight beneath him. Daisy had fashioned a doll after him as if he were an enemy, poking it with needles. He had no time. No time to save her. Annie would be able to see it all. Her jealousy had driven her to it. She was to sacrifice the rooster and prepare the paket kongo filled with feathers of the dead bird, crushed leaves of twa-pawol, bwa-din and zo-devan to protect them both. Instead she’s prevented their love making. His soul drained back into his body and the pain hit him again like a rock to the head. And again she poked the doll. He cried out in agony. There was no way he could go to her, help her if she kept him in such pain.

Annie paced back and forth, chanting an old Haitian voodoo spell. Talin watched her. Ah, luxury. Daisy had stopped, afforded him a moment of bliss. A chance to catch his breath before the next needle. Annie stopped at the mirror and what he saw in the reflection made him cry out in fright. A demon stared back. Not the beautiful woman with long, flowing hair. A hideous creature with curled horns, scraggly gray hair, drooling, stared back. She was a true priestess of the devil. A dark mambo. Black voodoo had claimed her soul.

He watched the reflection speak out loud, saying the most lovely and the most terrible thing he’d ever heard. “Daisy.”

And then she ran from her bedchamber, bounding down the stairs and out the back door, fleeing to the slaves’ homes. Somewhere she’d never gone before. He struggled off the bed and watched her from the narrow bedroom window. His heart lurched. Horror upon horrors tumbled toward him when he saw the White Witch wielding a machete high above her head.

“No! Daisy!”

Then he fell to his knees when she poked him again. He crumbled into a heap as waves of nausea soared through him. Another poke in the groin and then the head. He moaned in agony, grabbed the window sill and looked toward his home. He heard Daisy scream and wanted to toss his soul to her though he’d have little power, he’d be with her in her final moments. If only he could have a few seconds to garner enough power to do so.

Annie flung open the flimsy straw door and rose the machete high above her head. Daisy shrieked, still clutching the doll when the White Witch cut her hand, slicing the doll in two.

Talin gasped for breath, his palm against the windowpane. “Da-Daisy,” he gurgled. Blood poured from his mouth, spreading across the wooden floors. He reached for the feather in his pocket but felt only flesh. Talin crawled to the bedside, found his pants and then the feather and parchment paper. Naked, on all fours, covered in blood, he chanted the words to the voodoo spirit that would take him into a new life form, saving him from certain death.

“Papa Gede, father of the here and afta, take me to the next world, the next life so I ma’ live long enuff ta save’ my love from the White Witch.”

Now drained of most his life’s blood, near death, shivering and mad with fright for Daisy, Talin smeared the feather and the parchment paper over the pool of blood collected beneath him. Rage shot through his veins. His back arched, his limbs shook. Pain tore through his muscles as he prayed silently for death, an end to this misery.

He heard a crackling of bones, snapping, twisting and then only the rain pelting the windows. He lay there. Painless. Lying in warm blood. He opened his eyes. The room was now a muted gray. He blinked and stood. On all fours. He looked at his hands and screamed. Beneath him were four gray legs covered in fur and the sound coming from his throat was not a man in agony but some kind of animal he’d never even seen in the rain forest but had seen in years past, in Africa. A wolf.

He sniffed and caught her scent. Daisy. And then he remembered. He leapt through the window, past the balcony below where the White Witch doled out orders and onto the back lawn, running before his swift feet landed, sprinting through the cane fields, back home to find his wife. The door was still flapping in the rain and wind when he found her, lying on the bed in a pool of blood, clutching the doll cleaved in half while the White Witch hissed from the corner, her white robe stained, splattered with his wife’s blood. In an instant she was changed and charging, nails extended like claws, growing from her fingertips.

There was no hesitation. He leapt for her throat, tore it out while she changed to her demon form. Her horns rattled against the wooden planks when he dropped her and leapt to the bed, licking Daisy’s ashen face. Her eyes were open, filled with tears. He nuzzled her, whined and laid upon her body feeling for one precious breath of life.

He was too late. Horrendous pain and misery flooded his soul and now he could not even hold her, kiss her, bury her behind their home. He stood beside her while the winds roared, the rain came in torrents, the door still smacking the frame like a man gone mad. A terrible howl of miserable loss erupted from his throat. His keen ears picked up voices. Slave voices. He darted off the bed and stuck his nose out the door. Two slaves approached with torches billowing in the heavy rains. He glanced back at her, whined and leapt through the rains, running for the rain forests, never to return.


~Happy Halloween

Alisha Paige
www.alishapaige.com

One More Day Until the Haunted Blog!

Do you like ghosts, vampires, werewolves, witches, pumpkins, full golden moons and cool Halloween nights?

Do you believe in hauntings? What about Haunted Blogs? Come back on All Hallow's Eve...if you have the guts.

Make sure you wear a cross and carry holy water if you want to win some spooky prizes.

~Your Haunting Hostess
Alisha Paige

Debut Author Christina Phillips Gabbing About Witches, Writing, Life and Clive!

Alisha: I'm very excited to introduce Christina Phillips to you today! Welcome, Christina!

Christina: Thank you Alisha for having me on your blog today to talk about Foretaste of Forever. I’m thrilled to be here!

This is my debut release and is a dark erotic romance with paranormal elements, from the Scarlet Rose line of The Wild Rose Press.
Scarlet Rose

Alisha: Foretaste of Forever sound so delicious! How did you come up with the idea for this story? BTW, I can’t wait to read this!

Christina: Thank you! The premise for Foretaste of Forever actually came to me in a dream – no, not that kind of dream!!! A recurring dream of one scene haunted me for about four years. I knew nothing about this couple who met on a storm tossed beach at midnight except that they were desperately in love and destined to be forever apart.

Eventually I decided to write their story down, just to get it out of my head – and amazingly the dreams stopped. But it wasn’t until a few years later I went back to it and added the spice and submitted to The Wild Rose Press.

Alisha: Wow! I just love dreams! Do you love all things paranormal? I know I do!

Christina: Yes I do! I love reading both light and dark paranormal, and anything with a strange or quirky twist on reality. Give me tortured vampires, drop dead sexy weres, irresistible immortals and I’m a happy girl!

Alisha: Mmmmmm....me too! When did you first begin writing?

Christina: I first tried my hand at writing while learning to drive (not at the same time… lol!) I hated learning to drive with a passion and the writing took my mind off it. The writing sucked and I received form rejections, but at least I passed my driving test.

However, the writing bug bit me big time. And although I gave it up for a few years while I had a few babies, after moving to Australia I decided to give it another shot. So I started writing seriously nine years ago last Easter.

Alisha: What inspires you to write?

Christina: I have to write, or go completely mad! I’m compelled to write down the stories clamoring in my mind, it’s like an addiction and take that away from me and man, I’m a real meanie! Plus of course I enjoy being the Goddess of my own Universe far too much to give it up!!

Alisha: Do you do anything to get into the mood to write? Music? Food? Beverage? Scenery?

Christina: Music distracts me when I write, as I just sit there singing along to the songs. Although I have a weakness for Meat Loaf’s Bat Out of Hell and play the CD non stop at full volume while in the kitchen. My muse appreciates it! Food? Ah well if I started eating at the computer I dread to think what size my butt would be right now (actually I dread thinking about my butt at all, but let’s not go there!) Ditto with the beverage since I’m a total coffee-holic and could drink the stuff all day!

Scenery – Well, not quite scenery but this is my current scene. I’ve recently moved into the spare bedroom (eldest daughter left home) and it’s all pink and girly and ALL MINE!!! *evil cackle* I love it soooo much. I have all my photos of my babies up, all my lovely romance novels within easy reach and best of all I can close the door when I’m writing steamy scenes! (up until recently I wrote in the corner of the family room and there was NO privacy! Tricky when writing an erotic scene!)

Alisha: Ahhh...that private pinky room must be sublime! I envy you! What is your very favorite kind of hero?

Christina: One who would do anything for his heroine, preferably involving great personal sacrifice, emotional torture and a complete reassessment of everything he believed in (yeah I’m pretty evil, huh!)

Alisha: Snicker...wow...you really write about the fantasy man don't you? Let me know if you run across the real thing...tee hee. Do you plan your stories or do you write by the seat of your pants?

Christina: When I first started writing contemporary romance I used to meticulously plan every single chapter, right down to lines of dialogue and the precise moment each chapter would end. But over the years my outlines became less rigid, and by the time I began writing paranormal my notes were very sketchy. Now I’m writing erotic romance I don’t have any kind of outline, and only a vague notion of how it might end (romance = HEA – but apart from that nada!) It’s exciting but also scary not knowing where I’m going with it!

Alisha: I know exactly what you mean. I'm a pantster too. What is your favorite time of day to write and why?

Christina: Ideally I much prefer to write first thing in the morning when I’m fresh. Since that only happens in a blue moon, my typical day consists of the school run, a session at the gym (I would rather be writing but I NEED the gym, you know?!) shopping, errands. So usually I’m at the computer by 11 am. I find I can’t write at night, my brain leaks.

Alisha: Please tell us about yourself. What do you do when you aren’t writing?

Christina: Apart from the above… I have one husband and three adorable children who keep me on my toes. For some strange reason they expect to be fed every night which means I have to cook. This is not a pretty sight. I chat with writer friends on MSN (but that’s always in the line of research *cough cough* it’s not like we gossip or do anything like that). Reading, of course! Catching up on movies. Drooling over Clive Owen (hehehe had to get Clive in here somehow!)

Alisha: Ooooh...no you didn't!!! Giant cackle! Oh yeah...those Clive movies are um...hero research, er..among other things! For those of you reading this that don't know...Clive is taken! Christina THOUGHT he was hers but I corrected her on the matter. We decided to share him. So far it's worked out beautifully.

(Doing the hair flip and getting back into interviewer mode)Okay..ready now...Do you write other genres? If so, please elaborate.

Christina: I started out writing contemporary romance and I still enjoy writing them, although I haven’t worked on one for a year or so now, since I discovered the delights of erotic romance!

Alisha: Wow! I did the exact same thing! Once I read my first paranormal, I was hooked! What are you reading right now?

Christina: I’m totally addicted to Nalini Singh’s Psy/Changeling series. They rock! Next up I have Alisha Paige’s Nocturnally Vexed, which I can’t wait to get my teeth into!

Alisha: Oh! Nalini Singh is so wonderful! (Blush..let me know how you like my book, Christina.)

Please tell us where we can find you and let us know what you’re working on now!

Christina: You can find me at my website Christina Phillips

Or check out what I’ve been up to lately at my blog Christina's Blog

I also have a MySpace page
Christina's My Space
(come and friend me, I’d love to see you!)

Manic Readers

Currently I’m writing another erotic romance set during the Roman invasion of Cymru. This is a full length novel, not a short story, and I’m really enjoying it.

Alisha: Sounds fascinating! You’re an erotic author so I just have to ask… what is sexist to you?

Christina: Ooooh, I am totally in love with my current hero, a powerful Roman centurion, and basically everything he says and does while with his heroine I find incredibly sexy and adorable. In real life I would probably have to give him a slow and painful death for being so impossibly Alpha but as a fantasy, well, he rings all my bells!!!

Alisha: What one word or phrase will get you all hot and bothered?

Christina: Well I’m not sure I should share, considering I have Issues when it comes to this hot guy(!), but let’s say if Clive Owen were to magically appear in my office, give me his sexy smile, hook his finger at me and say, “Now,” it’s pretty much a cert I wouldn’t just get hot and bothered but probably incinerate on the spot!!!

Alisha: Swoon! Well, if that happens, you better let me know ALL THE DETAILS!

Blurb from Foretaste of Forever
Elyesha, last surviving descendant of a line of powerful witches, finally finds the only man she's ever loved, the man who deserted her countless years before. But Ben is torn between desire and despair when Elyesha, his only love, eventually penetrates his protective retreat. He knows what she wants, but the price of their love is too high. At midnight, on the beach, a battle of wills and erotic seduction ensues as each confronts the other's darkest fears.

Excerpt from Foretaste of Forever
Elyesha hooked her ankles around Ben’s waist as he strode through the castle’s crumbling entrance. For a fleeting moment, she wished it had retained its former glory, but her ancestors had allowed the magnificent stronghold to fall into ruins centuries ago.
Besides, it didn’t matter where she had Ben. So long as she had him. And soon – she would have him forever.
In the Great Hall, with its soaring arches and remnants of ancient grandeur in the carved four poster bed, he paused and she slowly slithered from his grasp. “What shall we do now?” she said, tilting her head to one side and allowing her long hair to tumble provocatively over her shoulder. She traced one finger over the hard ridge of his erection and hid a smile as Ben clenched his jaw.
“No suggestions?” She raised one eyebrow and trailed her finger over his groin and toward his chest. She didn’t know why he fought against her some nights. What did he hope to achieve? Sooner or later, she’d get her way and then he would see how foolish all his protestations had been. “Perhaps I’ll strip you naked,” she suggested, loosening the ties on his scarlet linen shirt.
He didn’t reply, except to give the merest grunt of a laugh. She tugged his open shirt from his britches and admired his perfectly sculpted chest, before sliding the shirt over his shoulders and along his finely muscled arms.
“Enjoying yourself?” There was a rasp to his voice, as if he tried to deny the rising desire between them.
She shot him an exasperated glance. “I intend to enjoy myself far more before this night’s over.” She tugged at the fastenings at his crotch, deliberately prolonging the procedure as she massaged his rigid shaft. Occasionally she found Ben’s inhuman self-control infuriating, but even that didn’t matter. Because, in the end, he always succumbed.
But sometimes, she wished for the early years. Before Ben had rebelled against their relationship. Before his misguided sense of honor had risen its unwelcome head and corroded their perfect world.
Impatiently she thrust the thought aside. She admired his honor, but had no intention of destroying what they had at its altar.
“So long as you’re enjoying yourself.” Ben’s sardonic comment penetrated her thoughts, and wet heat flared deep in her pussy at the look on his face. He was no longer rigid with self-control but lust, and his eyes glowed with rising desire. “I exist for your amusement, Elyesha.”
She ripped the last fastening free and dragged his pants down his muscled legs. “Never forget that.” Her voice was uneven, her heart hammering against her breast. How could he do this to her, after so many years? She had only to think of him to want him, had only to see him to desire him. And when he teased her, she knew in her heart she would willingly die for him.
If she was only given the chance.
He hauled her to her feet. “And now it’s your turn to entertain me.” There was no hint of reluctance in his eyes now. Only love. For her. She wrapped the knowledge around her heart and knew it wouldn’t be long before Ben made the final commitment to her.

Purrrrrrr.......Okay, I think I have to go wake up my husband now. Whoa! That was delicious! I look forward to reading this yummy Halloween treat! Thank you for being my guest today, Christina! I had a blast!

There's only two days left to enter my Halloween contests! Scroll down to Is Making Love In A Graveyard Creepy, leave a comment and you'll be entered into a drawing for my latest release, Nocturnally Vexed. Go to my Contests at my web site and enter my Wicked Halloween Writing Contest at Alisha Paige for a chance to win a basket of scary books! And come back on Halloween for my Haunted Blog and a chance to win many books and prizes and participate in a multi-author Halloween Scavenger Hunt!

~Happy Halloween
Alisha