I’m happy to host fellow indie author Juli Revezzo today…

To learn more about Juli D. Revezzo, PASSION’S SACRED DANCE, the Celtic Stewards Chronicles series and all her other works, see her site, at http://julidrevezzo.com

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1dmAwFa

She’s also on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/julidrevezzo

Good Reads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5782712.Juli_D_Revezzo

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/111476709039805267272/posts

Pintrest: http://pinterest.com/jewelsraven/

And Twitter: @julidrevezzo

For news on forthcoming releases sign up for her newsletter at: http://bit.ly/SNI5K6

She’s got a new book out, just this month, and I’ll let her tell you all about it:

PASSION’S SACRED DANCE came about from a number of things. The biggest influence on the story, however, was my love of Irish mythology. These are legends and stories written down in the 11^th=15^th centuries by Irish scribes, but the stories are much older than that, undoubtedly told by wandering bards, before a king’s fire for an avid audience. The stories tell of heroic deeds, of the wondrous gods and sorcerers. Of honor, and oaths made—and broken. One story particularly, that of the Second Battle of Mag Tuired, tells of a battle between the gods of the Tuatha dé Danann (the Peoples of the Goddess Dana), and their enemy Balor and the Fomorii. A battle that began when Balor dared to give audience to a Tuatha dé Danann bard, but did not pay him the respect he was owed. For a people that prized honor—and that of their bards—above all else, this was a grievous mistake. When the Tuatha dé Danann heard of this dishonor, they gathered up their armies and went to war with Balor.

So, there the story of harshad wars in my fantasy romance novel PASSION’S SACRED DANCE took root and I wondered, now, we know the Tuatha dé Danann won that battle. But what would happen if the losers didn’t want to honor that win? I mean, Balor and his followers are painted as a dishonorable lot. Is it far-fetched to believe they wouldn’t want a rematch? And there the reoccuring mythical wars that Stacy and her family, and her protector Aaron face, every five hundred years, in PASSION’S SACRED DANCE was born.

Would you like to read a little more of PASSION’S SACRED DANCE?

Unless Stacy Macken can stave off her creditors, she may lose her renowned history center. Yet she knows in her heart that the land is sacred and what a catastrophe losing it would be. How much of a catastrophe, she hasn’t a clue.

Until Aaron Fielding arrives with his tales of magical guardians and the Tuatha dé Danann, sworn warriors from Celtic legend who protect humanity from a wicked enemy seeking their destruction.

Is the end of the world imminent? What can she, a modern woman and her warrior lover, possibly have to offer when a long-prophesied druidic mythic battle explodes around them?

Bonus: Includes brand new flash fiction piece, “About A Warrior”

Want to read it right now?  It’s available at:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00X0P3IPG

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/passions-sacred-dance-juli-d-revezzo/1117518183?ean=2940151559270

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/539975

Add Passion’s Sacred Dance to your Good Reads shelves here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25508616-passion-s-sacred-dance

Excerpt:

Stacy nodded then strode into the main gallery, past statues of a few founding fathers, paintings of historical incidents, and cabinets displaying the city charters and noteworthy proclamations. Slipping through a door at the far end of the room, she entered the courtyard.

Despite the chill air, Stacy spied a few tattooed men and women gathered around a small table, discussing a class while nursing cups of coffee. One woman sitting with them had silvery gray eyes that shone like beacons. Hard to miss.

Stacy stared at her a moment longer, trying to figure out the nature of the color. Putting the woman’s eye color down to a set of extremely cool contacts, she smiled and gave the woman a jaunty salute then reached out for the empty glasses lining the next abandoned table. The woman still watched her.

Uncomfortable, Stacy strode to the far side of the courtyard to escape the woman’s scrutiny. Something told her to look back.

The woman with the startling eyes stood right behind her, glaring. Her eyes glowed like quicksilver.

Creepy!

Miss Silver Eyes smelled of patchouli, musk, and some other strange scent Stacy couldn’t identify.

She leaned close to Stacy’s ear, and her voice sounded raspy when she spoke, “We will have this ground. This harshad time, Stacy Macken, the ground is ours, and they will never dance again.”

Harshad? How did she know about harshads? Had the long-awaited war truly come, then?

Stacy stared as impossibly long incisors slid down from the woman’s gums like snake fangs. Miss Silver Eyes clamped a hand around her upper arm. The woman’s steely gaze, the ruby and alligator’s tooth earring glittering in her right earlobe, and the dark threat mesmerized Stacy.

“You won’t if I have anything to say about it.” A cool male voice brought the silver-eyed woman up short and the fog lifted from Stacy’s mind.

Aaron Fielding stood before her dressed in casual jeans and a gray, cable knit sweater. He seemed right at home here among the students, and yet somehow he also stood apart.

The air shifted. Stacy could have sworn his leather coat, for just an instant, took on the shape of a golden eagle’s wings.

A high-pitched whine scraped from the silver-eyed woman’s throat. Taking Aaron in, she cocked her head. A bemused smile spread across her face, as if at some private joke.

Aaron retrieved an item from his coat. At first, Stacy thought the object might be a baton. A hint of blue light flickered between his fingers, barely there; almost hidden by the glare of the courtyard lights. Then the object changed shape and substance, wood to steel. The innocuous baton became a sword.

“Now, wait!” Stacy jumped to her feet and caught the baton before it bashed the woman’s face in.

Aaron grasped Stacy’s upraised hand and thrust her behind him. “For your own good, don’t interfere.”

Miss Silver Eyes screamed. Steel glinted from her fists as she rushed headlong at Aaron.

He raised the weapon while muttering something in a foreign language.

An explosion of light split the air. A blue starburst flashed at the edges of Stacy’s vision. Cringing and blinking in the brightness, she saw that the woman, hands outstretched, had gone utterly still.

Stacy frowned as she studied the woman, wondering what happened.

Aaron turned back to the silver-eyed woman, grasped her arm, and whispered in her ear. Her feet began to move, one step, then another, as a zombie might—unseeing and stiff in posture. Aaron kept a hand on her back, leading her to the entrance. He opened the gate and shoved her through, then slammed it shut with an Irish curse. He proceeded to mutter something, tracing a finger along the gate’s edge.

His words reminded Stacy of something out of Chaucer. Azure light danced around the gate’s perimeter.

Aaron turned to face her. “This should never have happened,” he said.  “Forgive me, Stacy.”

Surprised to see his medallion glowing with a soft reddish-golden light and his eyes an unearthly shade of green, Stacy gasped.

Aaron shook his head. “We were lax in our vigilance, and this intrusion never should’ve been allowed.”

His gaze came back to hers. The glow in his eyes was gone. Had she hallucinated?

“I give you my solemn vow that I’ll do everything in my power to see it doesn’t happen again.”

Shaking, she recalled the fables she’d heard all her life about women and fated love with mystery men. Was the tale just the stuff of silly bedtime stories? Was Aaron merely defending her from an attacker as any gentleman might? Or did his purpose spring from something other than chivalry?

Taking her hands, he tried to soothe her. “These grounds have been violated,” he said. His expression melted into a solemn frown. “And we’ve work to do to restore the safeguards. If you’ll come with me, we can get down to the business of ensuring that.”

Safeguards? Stacy couldn’t believe her ears. Work to restore the safeguards?

Oh, God. Oh, God! Why now? Would that her whole life could’ve passed without having to hear those words.

Yet, she knew what he said was true, and reached out to him. Stacy’s breath caught in her throat as he raised her hands to his biceps. His expression held a combination of intensity and passion. Her heart raced.

His voice, a mixture of seduction and gravel, rumbled through her. “Hold on tight. I don’t want to lose you along the way.”

The lights at the corners of the courtyard flared. Digging her nails into Aaron’s arms, Stacy squinted. They glided upward, and she looked down, disbelieving what she saw. They floated above the floor as if they’d become no more than a puff of smoke.

The puff thinned, stretched out in the light, blinding her as it blended along the spectrum. A thin whining sound screamed in her ear. She shot along its frequency, until she felt she was one with the universal energy pulsing through her, until all she saw turned to white darkness that seemed to go on forever.

 

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Sweet romance blossoms between people from two very different worlds.

Will the bonds of love be stronger than the bonds of tradition?

Eager to make her own way in the world, Lacy Williams leaves behind her family on the Umatilla Reservation and accepts a job in Pendleton at the telephone office as an operator. The work she takes in stride, but dealing with the unfamiliar, unsettling feelings stirred by the handsome banker across the street is an entirely different matter.

Grant Hill wants a wife.

However, not just any wife will do. If that were the case, he’d make an announcement at the mercantile and cause a stampede to the church. Grant wants a woman who will look beyond his material wealth and see into his heart. When he’s all but given up on the possibility that such a woman exists, he runs into the lovely Lacy Williams.

The two of them must strive to discover if the bonds of love are stronger than the bonds of tradition in this sweet historical western romance.

Kindle

Amazon

Meet Lacy and Grant

If you’d like a chance to win a digital copy of Lacy, either post a comment here or on my Facebook page what you enjoy most about a historical western romance. One random winner will be drawn Saturday morning!

Excerpt:

Intently studying the fullness of his bottom lip and wondering what it would feel like if he kissed her, Lacy’s feet slid on a patch of ice.

Grant reached out to steady her. She ended up pulled tight against his chest with his arms wrapped securely around her. His spicy, masculine scent filled her nose and made a delicious tremor race through her.

Disinclined to let her go, Grant kept a hand on her waist and guided her to Ilsa’s shop door.

“Thank you, Mr. Hill, for all you did for me today. I am most grateful for your assistance.” Lacy lifted her eyes to his. The man’s entrancing gaze pulled her into a place of warmth and security she never wanted to leave.

The nearly overwhelming urge to discover if Lacy’s lips tasted as ripe and sweet as they looked created an internal struggle for Grant. He’d never been so attracted to a woman and couldn’t dignify what caused such a strong reaction now. It was ridiculous and unreasonable to be so completely captivated by a woman he’d just met.

Despite his head telling him to walk away, Grant took her hand and brought it to his lips. Covered with a glove, the presence of her hand in his still made his tingle. He lifted his gaze to hers as he bent over her hand, holding her captive and losing himself in those dark eyes. “It was my pleasure, Miss Williams. Have a pleasant evening.”

By sheer force of will, Grant turned and strode away.

Lacy gaped after him. She had no idea how long she would have stood on the sidewalk watching his departing form if Ilsa hadn’t opened the shop door and tugged her inside.

***

Convinced everyone deserves a happy ending, hopeless romantic Shanna Hatfield is out to make it happen one story at a time. Her bestselling sweet historical and contemporary romances combine humor and heart-pumping moments with realistic characters. When she isn’t writing or consuming unhealthy amounts of chocolate, Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller.

Find Shanna’s books at:

Amazon | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | Apple

Follow Shanna online:

Facebook | Pinterest | Goodreads | You Tube | Twitter

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Good morning!  please welcome indie author Christi Corbett to the blog today!

Christi Corbett, winner of the 2013 RONE Award for Best American Historical novel, lives in a small town in Oregon with her husband and their twin children. The home’s location holds a special place in her writing life; it stands just six hundred feet from the original Applegate Trail and the view from her back door is a hill travelers looked upon years ago as they explored the Oregon Territory and beyond.

You can follow Christi all over the Interwebs:

Blog: https://christicorbett.wordpress.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Christi-Corbett-Author/430817400345104

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChristiCorbett

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/christicorbett/

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Christi-Corbett/e/B00DC8H5CI/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7132469.Christi_Corbett?from_search=true

Email: christicorbett@gmail.com

You can also listen to a radio interview with her, right here.

And here’s her new book…

 

They survived the Oregon Trail, but claiming a legacy would be their biggest challenge yet…

 

Sometimes, the end justifies the means…

Kate Davis arrived into Oregon City transformed from a pampered daughter of fortune into a determined woman with a plan–fulfill her father’s dream of starting a horse ranch in Oregon Territory.

She quickly discovers a harsh truth–even thousands of miles from home, on an unsettled land America doesn’t yet own or govern, gender still takes precedence over ability. Refusing to be ruled once again by the stifling laws and societal norms she’d escaped by leaving Virginia, Kate begins creatively claiming what is rightfully hers.

Until a visit to the land office changes everything.

Jake Fitzpatrick guided Kate across the Oregon Trail, and fell in love with her along the way. Now he wants to marry her and build a life together, but a ruthless man from Jake’s past threatens to reveal a dark secret, and destroy everything he’s worked so hard to achieve.

You can buy it at Amazon, and elsewhere:

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tainted-dreams-christi-corbet/1121906167?ean=2940151530439

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/tainted-dreams

ibookstore: http://ibookstore.com/products.php?i=B00W0R2FAY

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/542314

This is the sequel to her previous novel, Along the Way Home, which won an award as the Best American Historical Novel of 2013 from Ind’Tale Magazine!

Christi has an excerpt for us:

(Jake, Kate, and two people they rescued on the Oregon Trail, William and Margaret, have entered Oregon City. They are looking for the hotel.)

At the end of the block a man burst from the saloon and stumbled into the street, stopping mere inches from Jake’s horse, Plug. Instead of backing away, the man lurched forward and reached for Jake’s saddle horn.

“Hey there!” Jake said. Raising his left leg, he ignored the resulting twinge of pain and shoved the stranger aside with his boot heel. “Watch it!”

The man drew back and stared at him, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. He raised an unsteady finger, slurred an unintelligible response, and then fell face-­first into a patch of mud.

“Drunken fool,” Jake muttered, then faced the others. “Let’s keep moving.”

High-­pitched squealing foiled his plan.

On the upper deck of the saloon a horde of harlots stood clustered together, giggling and shrieking as they pointed toward him. Clenching his jaw, he focused on the street ahead, all the while hoping Kate didn’t notice one woman in particular who’d separated herself from the others and was now hanging over the railing, calling him by name.

Jake pressed his boot heels into Plug’s side, urging him to a steady trot. Thankfully the others followed and they quickly left the saloon behind.

Minutes later, Kate motioned to the end of the street. “William, we’re running out of road and I still don’t see a hotel.”

William pulled a rumpled paper from his pocket. He studied it briefly and then eyed the surrounding buildings. “My uncle sent me a rough sketch of where it’s located, but there are so many new buildings, it’s useless. Jake, do you know where it’s at?”

Jake shook his head. “There wasn’t a hotel the last time I was here.”

“Perhaps one of those men sitting in front of the apothecary would know?” Margaret suggested.

“We’ll find it ourselves,” Jake replied. He led the group around the corner and onto the next street.

Buildings, so new their fresh pine scent still hung in the air, lined one side of the street while the other side held only two—an enormous livery and a two-­story building with the word Hotel prominently displayed on a white sign with black lettering. A matching sign beside a light-­rimmed window read Rooms Available by the Day or Week.

They dismounted, secured their horses to the empty hitching posts in front of the hotel, and headed for the door. William reached for the glass knob, then turned to the others with a worried frown.

“I haven’t seen my uncle in over seven years, so I don’t know what to expect. Though from what I’ve observed so far, living out west doesn’t seem to improve manners.” He stepped inside and ushered Margaret and Kate through the doorway. Jake followed them, then stopped cold.

Behind the hotel’s front desk sat Theodore Martin—the one man Jake never wanted to see again as long as he lived.

And I’ve also got a great interview with Christi:

Who is your favorite author?

I would say Laura Ingalls Wilder, the author of my favorite book series of my youth, the Little House books.

I got my first book of hers at a yard sale at age seven, and read it so much the covers crumbled from wear and eventually fell off the book. And I had my first moment of absolute book joy when I learned that there were many more of her books available (which was my first brush with the concept of a series).

How do you describe your writing style?

My descriptions are simple and to the point. I’ve never been a fan of long, wordy passages, so if my character needs to go from one end of the room to the other, they just do.

Use no more than two sentences. Why should we read your book?

I believe keeping a promise is important, so the theme for both books is the importance of being a man, or woman, of your word. In other words, if you make a promise you should be prepared to keep it, no matter the cost.

Have any of your characters been modeled after yourself?

I gave Kate, my female lead character, my hairstyle from high school (auburn, waist-length, thick and wavy curls) because it was really hard to take care of and keep tangle free, so I figured it would be really hard to do the same on the trail where access to water deep enough to bathe in was rare. There is a part of the book where Kate is cutting snarls from her hair that really resonated with me, since I’d done the same.

If you could exchange lives with any of your characters for a day which character would you choose and why?

I think it would be fun to be Jake, my male lead character. He’s a rugged, yet honorable, man who genuinely cares how the other members of his wagon train are doing, and does everything within his power to keep his promises. Plus, he rides a horse all day!

If you could select one book that you could rewrite and add your own unique twist on, which book would that be and why?

Gone with the Wind. I finally read it when I was twenty-five years old, after years of listening to other readers rave about how good it was, and how much I was missing out on. Also, I wanted to see the movie and I’m a firm believer in reading the book first. I read it in one sitting; I started after dinner, read through the entire night, and finished as the sunrise peeked through the living room curtains. The book irritated me for the first 100 pages because I couldn’t understand why anyone would care so much about such a vapid and selfish character like Scarlett, but thankfully I kept reading and by the end I was fascinated in the character growth Scarlett went through throughout the book.

I would love to see an epilogue where Rhett sees Scarlett’s growth as a person, and gives her another try. (I’ve read the sequel, and heartily enjoyed that this did actually happen)

Beatles or Monkees? Why?

Monkees. I’m a huge fan of Neil Diamond, and they played four songs he wrote: I’m a Believer, A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You, Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow), and Love to Love.

Who should play you in a film of your life?

There are far more interesting and worthy people out there to make a movie about, Harriet Beecher Stowe is one example. She was an amazing author, who changed the world with her book.

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