Hearts in Exile by Mysti Parker ~Release Day Blast~

Title:  Hearts in Exile

Author:  Mysti Parker

Series:  A Tallenmere Novel, standalone

Published:  June 3rd 2012 by Melange Books

Genre: Paranormal, Fantasy, Romance

Book Blurb:

Somewhere, hidden in the waters of the Southern Sea, lies an island unlike any other. Within the amber glow of its pyrogem-laden cliffs, legend says the very heart of the dragon god Drae keeps the island, and its occupants, alive.

Loralee Munroviel, daughter of Leogard's High Priestess Arianne, had no idea what she would face when she arrived by boat ten years ago and was left alone in exile. All she knew about Draekoria's inhabitants was written in one tattered notebook. Now, her life revolves around keeping Drae's descendants happy. Never in her life did she imagine being a Dragon Keeper.

Captain Igrorio Everlyn, known as Sir Robert to his unit of Holy Paladins, has faced his share of hell, battling the evils of Emperor Sarvonn's tyranny and the dark god Tyr's abominations. But none of that compares to the ten years of hell he's been without Loralee, presumed dead.

One freak storm changes everything. Now the two of them must fight to re-establish the delicate balance of the island before the dragons take things into their own hands. Through it all, they discover the secrets that kept them, and their hearts, exiled for a decade.

Excerpt:

After a shipwreck, Sir Robert wakes up in a strange cottage, only to find Loralee, the love of his life, whom he thought had been dead for a decade… 

“I don’t understand. What is this place?”

“It’s an island. Very few know of its existence.”

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of this confusing dream come to life. “But, why would you be here, and why would you be sorry? Unless…”

The words wouldn’t come. My racing mind pitched in to help. Unless she didn’t want to marry me after all.

Wrenching pain I’d kept tucked inside broke free, and I clambered to my feet. Loralee followed suit, backing herself into the small dining table.

I tried, but could not hide the bitter anger in my words. “How could you do this to me? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?”

Her eyes widened. She clutched the table with one hand and her robe with the other. “What you’ve been through? I didn’t want this. I was forced here.”

“What do you mean, forced here? Where are your shackles?” My voice roared through the little cottage as I gestured around me with one arm. “Where are the bars? This looks like no prison I’ve ever seen.”

Her voice cracked the air, rivaling with my own. “I was betrayed, forced into exile. Don’t you understand? I never wanted to leave you. I never wanted anything so much as I wanted you.”

Pacing away, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I had to calm myself, to let the weight of this discovery, the improbability of her explanation to sink into my water-logged brain.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at her just yet, so I stared at my bare feet instead. “Why didn’t you tell me, write to me?”

“I tried. I begged the supply ship crew to bring my letters to you. They always took them, but never brought one in return. I suspect they destroyed them, but I had no way of knowing.” She sucked in a shaky breath as though trying to hold back her tears. “I never stopped loving you.”

Turning back to face her, I felt like a mindless beast. Here I was, raging against the love of my life when she’d all but been brought back from the dead.

“Loralee.” I eased toward her. She cringed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Without a word, I leaned in and pressed my forehead to hers, allowing myself to breathe in her scent for the first time in a decade. We stood suspended like that for a while, lost in time, and emerging from a purgatory neither of us had imagined ten years ago. I would have been content to stand like that forever, but Loralee burst into tears and wilted to the floor.

I followed her down and opened the quilt to wrap us both inside. I held her tight while she cried.

While I cried.

I finally got enough breath to speak again. “What did you mean by forced here? They told me you were…” I couldn’t say it, not with her warm and so very alive against me.

“I know.”

The weight of it all came crashing down on me. “This is my fault, isn’t it? You’re here because of me.”

She made no attempt to wipe her cheeks, but shook her head and stared at the rafters as though entreating the gods. “No, it’s not your fault. Not at all. There is so much to explain, I don’t know where to start.”

I couldn’t comprehend any of it, so I focused on the here and now. “You found me on the shore?”

She nodded.

“The crew, Francis…did you find anyone else out there?”

“No, I had Xax-, I mean, no, I searched but didn’t find anyone else.”

The familiar weight of grief squeezed my chest, and a few more tears escaped before I could stop them.

She pulled me close and whispered, “I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved him. We all did.”

“We all grieved for you. You’ve been here…all this time?”

“Yes.”

“By the gods, Loralee, I’ve missed you so much.” I put my wet cheek against hers and pressed my lips to her soft skin. “Part of me died the day I thought you… please…just tell me how you ended up here.”

Loralee took a few deep breaths and finally pulled away from me. She caressed my cheek and smiled weakly. “I’ll make us a pot of tea. And then, I think we should start at the beginning, back to the Great Plague and when we first met. Do you remember that?”

Smiling past the sadness, I covered her hand with mine and closed my eyes. “How could I ever forget?”

Buy your copy online today!

A Ranger's Tale, Tallenmere #1

Serenya's Song, Tallenmere #2

Hearts in Exile, Tallenmere #3 

About the author:

Mysti Parker (pseudonym) is a full time wife, mother of three, and a writer. Her first novel, A Ranger's Tale was published in January, 2011 by Melange Books, and the second in the fantasy romance series, Serenya's Song, was published in April 2012. The highly anticipated third book, Hearts in Exile, has already received some great reviews. The Tallenmere series has been likened to Terry Goodkind's 'Sword of Truth' series, but is probably closer to a spicy cross between Tolkien and Mercedes Lackey.

Mysti's other writings have appeared in the anthologies Hearts of Tomorrow, Christmas Lites, and Christmas Lites II. Her flash fiction has appeared on the online magazine EveryDayFiction. She has also served as a class mentor in Writers Village University's six week free course, F2K.

Mysti reviews books for SQ Magazine, an online specfic publication, and is the proud owner of Unwritten, a blog voted #3 for eCollegeFinder's Top Writing Blogs award. She resides in Buckner, KY with her husband and three children.

Connect with the author online:

Blog

Facebook Page 

Twitter 

Goodreads

And now, enter the tour wide giveaway for the Dragon necklace pictured below!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Continue Reading...

Interview with Bernadette Marie and Lost & Found Blast

Today I'd like to welcome Bernadette Marie to Pure Jonel.

Lets see what she has to tell us.

Q~What’s something fans would find fascinating about you?
As of October 2012 I will be a 2nd degree black belt momma! I have 5 sons (2 of them are 2nd degree black belts, 2 are conditional black belts and one is a high red.) We kick butt in this house!

Q~What other careers have you had?
I never give up a good career. SO I’m still doing data entry, I still run a salon—only now it is in my basement. I teach anyone anything they want to know from writing to karate.

Q~What genre(s) do you write?
I love to write Contemporary Romance. However, I do have some paranormal in my future.

Q~What genres and authors would we find you?

You’ll find me in contemporary romance and I’ve been blessed to ride the charts with such great authors as Nora Roberts and Bella Andre.

Q~How would you describe yourself if you were “speed dating” your readers?

I promise a happy ending. You won’t walk away from my books with a heavy heart.

Q~Has your life changed significantly since becoming a published writer?

I’ve certainly had to learn to take personal compliments! As a writer you can change people’s lives with your words. It’s powerful. Other than that I’m still doing what I love and in the middle of that I’m driving my kids around, trying to clean the house, and kicking butt in karate. That’s the best part about being an author. The book is out there now doing the work.

Q~What was the hardest part of writing your book?



Not falling asleep at the keyboard. I’m blessed with constant flow in my mind…but my eyes won’t always stay open for me.

Q~Are you a plotter or a pantser? 

  Total pantser! Nothing is planned when I sit down.

Q~Do you work on one project at a time? Or do you multi-task?

Multi-task to a fault!

Q~What else would you like readers to know about you or your work?

That I put my heart into every story I write. Sure I have been accused of being predictable, but with happily ever after that part is predictable…but the journey is the fun part.

A bit more about the author:

Bernadette Marie has been an avid writer since the early age of 13, when she’d fill notebook after notebook with stories that she’d share with her friends. Her journey into novel writing started the summer before eighth grade when her father gave her an old typewriter. At all times of the day and night you would find her on the back porch penning her first work, which she would continue to write for the next 22 years.

In 2007 – after marriage, filling her chronic entrepreneurial needs, and having five children – Bernadette began to write seriously with the goal of being published. That year she wrote 12 books. In 2009 she was contracted for her first trilogy and the published author was born. In 2011 she (being the entrepreneur that she is) opened her own publishing house, 5 Prince Publishing, and has released contemporary titles and began the process of taking on other authors in other genres.

In 2012 Bernadette Marie found herself on the bestsellers lists of iTunes and Amazon to name a few. Her office wall is lined with colorful PostIt notes with the titles of books she will be releasing in the very near future, with hope that they too will grace the bestsellers lists.

Bernadette spends most of her free time driving her kids to their many events. She is also an accomplished martial artist who will earn her conditional second degree black belt in Tang Soo Do in October 2012. An avid reader, she enjoys most, the works of Nora Roberts, Karen White, Megan Hart, to name a few. She loves to meet readers who enjoy reading contemporary romances and she always promises Happily Ever After.

Connect with Bernadette Marie online:

Website: www.bernadettemarie.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorbernadettemarie

Blogspot: www.authorbernadettemarie.blogspot.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/writesromance

And now, a bit more about her latest novel:

Title:  Lost & Found

Author:  Bernadette Marie

Series:  The Keller Family Series #5

Published:   May 9/13 by 5 Prince Books

Genre:   Contemporary Romance

Book Blurb:

Darcy McCary came to Nashville with some big expectations--to find her birth parents. She had no plans of making a life in Tennessee. But when her sources lead her to Eduardo Keller, her heart took over, and plans changed.

Eduardo Keller is a man who goes after what he wants and he doesn't have time for playing games. Darcy is exactly the woman he's been looking for to assist him in business and be his partner in life.

Because he loves Darcy, Ed promises to help her find the answers she seeks. What he doesn't know is that if Darcy finds the secret to her past it might mend her curiosity; however, it might also tear apart a branch of the Keller family.

Excerpt:

Ed Keller leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up on his desk. The view from his office would never cease to amaze him. The view from his uncle’s office was much more spectacular, but he had no reason to complain.

Who would have thought, nearly twenty years ago when he’d asked for an after-school job to afford a limo ride to take a girl to prom, that he’d end up with the title Vice President on his business cards.

He laughed. He couldn’t even think of the girl’s name that had squeezed at his heart. She’d been older. That he remembered. But he’d never done well with older women.

Now he sat atop an empire that his uncle’s grandfather had started and his uncle’s father had carried on. But it was Zach Benson who made it what it was today.

Benson, Benson, and Hart built big—built on time—and built under budget. Nothing had changed.

Ed didn’t have a foreman like Zach had. His other uncle, John Forrester, had been the best foreman any company could have asked for. A loyal employee until Ed’s Aunt Arianna made him retire only two years earlier. But another would come along. Right now he had to focus on a new assistant.

Interviewing people for a position shouldn’t be an issue. He’d been doing it for years. But a personal assistant had to be in your business, and he didn’t like that.

He’d fought it for years. Temps were good. They came, did the work, and left. He figured it was kind of like dating the wrong girl. There weren’t any he wanted to spend his life with.

Perhaps his expectations were too high. After all, his Aunt Regan had been Zach’s assistant. They’d been married nearly twenty-five years, and she still took care of him. It wouldn’t be long before Tyler and Spencer, their sons, would be sitting in Ed’s seat.

Ed dropped his feet to the floor and pushed up from his chair. When the time was right, he’d find the assistant of his dreams. He’d given up on the woman of his dreams, so an assistant would have to do.

He walked to the elevator and pressed the button to go down to the lobby. There was a Starbucks there now, and he’d grown very fond of caramel lattes, thanks to his Aunt Arianna, though he didn’t go for the skinny version. His Uncle John would say it was a bit too frilly a drink for a man in the construction business. His Uncle Zach, on the other hand, would argue that it was a good stress reliever.

Ed laughed at himself. What an eclectic bunch of people he had in his family. And even without them there with him, he still enjoyed them.

The gathering of the masses in the Starbucks also entertained him, almost as much as the thoughts of his family and their differences.

Ed ordered his drink and stood at the counter waiting for it to be handed to him.

As he looked around the store, he mentally spotted and named each kind of person. There was the tourist, the executive, and the assistant. There was a couple, obviously just downtown for the day and…hmmm, one that stumped him.

She was professional, probably interviewing by the way she was dressed, but she wasn’t comfortable with the big building and the mass of people. She was using Starbucks as a common ground, something familiar, to ease her nerves.

He listened as she ordered her drink—decaf and nonfat. What fun was in that, he wondered.

She tucked her change back into her purse, walked to the end of the counter, and stood behind to Ed to wait for her drink.

Flowery perfume filled his nose. She had a sweet side.

The lady behind the counter handed Ed his iced caramel latte. He turned to leave and, he’d say so himself, that was when things got interesting.

The woman who had been standing behind him, searching in her bag for something, looked up just as Ed turned around. She shifted to move out of his way, but instead she moved right into him.

Ed’s hands slipped from the condensation on the cup, and the entire, cold drink poured down the front of the woman.

She let out a stifled scream, and her hands went into the air. “Oh-my-God!”

“I’m very sorry.”

Ed turned toward the counter and grabbed a handful of napkins. He would have helped to mop up her clothes, but he noticed that the white, silk shirt clung to her and decided it just wasn’t a good idea to try.

“Look what you did!” She ripped the napkins from his hand and began to blot away the coffee, which had already stained the shirt.

“Sorry, but I think you ran into me.”

She snapped her head up again. “Oh, men. You’re not always right, you know. Sometimes you do make mistakes.”

Not only was she not as sweet as her flowery perfume, she was jaded. Bad news.

“Again, I’m very sorry. How can I help you?” He turned and reached for more napkins, but when she pulled them from his hand, he noticed she was crying.

“I think you’ve done enough.”

“I still think I can help in some way.”

“Listen. My suit is ruined. This is the only one I have. I was searching for a job, and I can’t do that now. I can’t hand out resumes looking like this.”

Ed watched as the woman continued to wipe off her blouse, but to no avail. It was ruined, but he still wasn’t going to take the blame.

“Are you looking for a job in this building?”

She let out a grunt. “Why else would I be here?”

“I was just asking. I know most of the businesses in the building. Perhaps I can help you out.”

The woman pursed her lips. “I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity. You seem to be in need of a job, and I’m sure I can help you find one.”

“What, do you own this place?” She waved her arms in the air.

“Let me see your resume.”

The woman stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. That wasn’t new. You didn’t run a multi-million dollar company in your mid-thirties without people giving you a shifty eye.

Her coffee was set on the counter. He moved in to grab it, but she moved quicker. “I’ll get this. I can’t afford to waste a sip of this. It’s my breakfast and lunch.”

She picked up the coffee and moved to a table where she set down the cup and pulled a resume from her bag.

She handed it to Ed. “Here it is. I hate to say it, but I’m desperate. If I don’t find a job in three days, I have to go home.”

“Why? Does that suit turn back into a pumpkin and your glass slipper breaks?”

“Have you ever been desperate for anything in your life?”

Buy a copy of this book online here today!

Continue Reading...

Beacon of Love by Allie Boniface

Title:  Beacon of Love

Author:  Allie Boniface

Published:  April 24/13

Genre:  Contemporary Romance

Book Blurb:

Welcome to Lindsey Point, Connecticut: suspicious of outsiders, loyal to tradition, and absolutely devoted to its local legends.

Enter Sophie Smithwaite, feisty travel show host, in town to film an episode about Lindsey Point’s haunted lighthouse. But digging into the story of a tragic murder-suicide and love gone wrong reveals startling connections to Sophie’s own past. When a gorgeous local handyman fills in behind the camera, Sophie’s life gets complicated by more than just her family history.

Part-time paramedic, handyman, seasonal Santa-Lucas Oakes does it all–except get attached. He’s still reeling from the death of his best friend ten years ago and the more recent infidelity of his ex-fiancee. Yet despite Sophie’s big-city nosiness and her insistence on chasing long-dead ghosts, he’s drawn to her.

But mixing with an outsider means questioning people and traditions Lucas has always defended. When a series of attacks seem to be connected to Sophie’s investigation, both Sophie and Lucas must decide if they are willing to risk everything to uncover the town’s secrets…and their own.

Excerpt:

“Wise ass.” Sophie backed into the street before he could grab her. “I’ll see you later!” she called. “I think Lon said something about meeting tomorrow morning and--hey!” She squawked off the last word as Lucas lifted her off the ground and onto his shoulder.

As if she was a bag of flour.

Or a damsel in distress.

Or his damn cavewoman.

About a hundred thoughts raced through her mind, and it took all she had to keep them from coming out in biting words.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he asked as he carried her back to his truck, parked in front of the bar. He wasn’t panting, not out of breath in the least, as if she weighed close to nothing. “If anything happened to you, Lon would kill me.” With one hand he opened the passenger side door. Only then did he lower her to a seat inside the truck. His hands slid down her arms and settled her hips into place.

Oh yum. All her scathing thoughts of thirty seconds earlier vanished. She shifted on the leather. There was room for him on this side of the cab, she was almost positive. If not, she’d make room. In about two seconds.

Buy your copy online here today!

About the author:

Allie Boniface is a small-town girl at heart who's traveled around the world and still finds that the magic and the mystery of small towns make them the best places to fall in love and find adventure. From the New England coast to Rocky Mountain hotels to tiny European bars, she's found more character and plot inspirations than she could ever count. Currently, she's lucky enough to live in New York's beautiful Hudson Valley with her own "Hometown Hero," a guy who can fix, build, drive, and grill anything and is the epitome of the strong and silent type.

When she isn't writing love stories, Allie is a full-time high school English teacher who gets a kick out of helping her teenagers negotiate the ups and downs of writing along with the ups and downs of life (because, really, she's still trying to do the same thing!). And while she'll continue to travel far and wide, Allie knows there's really nothing like coming back to the place where the people who have known you forever welcome you home with open arms.

Connect with the author online:

www.allieboniface.com
www.allieboniface.blogspot.com
Twitter: AllieBoniface1
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Allie-Boniface/213522468685926?ref=hl

Continue Reading...

Book Blast: Heiress Bride by Cynthia Woolf

Heiress Bride 

by Cynthia Woolf.

For fans of Historical Romance, we welcome today the second instalment in the Matchmaker & Co. Series:

Heiress Bride.

Quick Facts

Release Date: March 15th, 2013.

Genre: Historical, Romance, Western.

Formats Available: Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, Apple, Kobo.

Book Synopsis

Heiress Ella Davenport survived a carriage accident that killed her father.  Her life saved in exchange for savage scars marring her beautiful face.  Her friends, socialites, showed their true colors, casting Ella from the social circles and leaving her a social pariah. Even her wealth can’t buy her the kind of marriage she wants. Desperate to find a husband who can accept her despite her scars and, without knowing about her money, she seeks to become a mail order bride.  Matchmaker & Co. has a new client.

Nathan Ravenclaw was run out of town by the father of the girl he was courting once he discovered Nathan’s Arapaho Indian heritage. It didn’t matter he was a successful rancher, businessman and a positive member of society.  The white community suddenly saw only a half-breed. Even his money couldn’t buy him a wife. That was ten years ago.  He moved and rebuilt everything that cold rancher took from him except a wife.  Matchmaker & Company can get him a wife.  But Nathan is not expecting the beauty that waits for him on the train platform.  Though he still lacks the ability to trust, he determines that she will be the wife and mother he needs.

Can these two people find love and healing together? Or are their scars too deep to bridge the gap between trust and acceptance?

LINKS:

AMAZON

SMASHWORDS

KOBO

GOODREADS

Excerpts

She arrived in Denver on April 6, 1868.  A date she would forever remember as the start of her life.  It was almost like another birthday.

The weather was cold with the wind off the plains toward the mountains.  The buildings weren’t as tall as in New York, but the wind still whistled between them and over the platform where she stood.  She was glad of her good wool coat and lined boots.  They kept her warm while she waited for Mr. Ravenclaw to find her.  There wasn’t anyone else wearing a veil so she didn’t think he’d have much problem identifying her.

She wasn’t really sure what she expected, but it wasn’t the tall, devastatingly handsome man that approached her.  He had a square jaw shaved clean and a tiny dimple in his chin.  Black eyebrows slashed over his eyes, the color of which was hidden by the shadow from his hat, pulled low on his head.  For once she was glad of her veil.  He wouldn’t be able to see her mouth hanging open, gawking at him.

“Miss Davenport?”

“Yes.  Are you Mr. Ravenclaw?”

“I am.”

She held out her hand.  “Ella Davenport.”

He removed his glove and enveloped her hand in his big one.  His fingers brushed the skin of her wrist just above her glove.  The tingle that traveled clear to her toes was unexpected and her gaze snapped up to his.  She looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes.  They seemed to question what was happening between them as much as she did.

He held her hand for what seemed like a lifetime and they simply starred at each other.

“Miss Davenport….”

“Ella.  Please.”

“Ella.  I would like for you to lift your veil.”

“Are you sure you want to do this in public.  It can be…shocking.”

“I’m sure.”  He squeezed her hand and then let go.

“Very well.”  She lifted the heavy lace, prepared for him to be taken aback by the ugliness of it.  She wasn’t prepared for him to lift his hand and gently trace the scar all the way from her left eye over her cheek and down her neck to the top of her collar.

There was no disdain on his face.  His blue eyes took in everything and accepted it, but even so he said the last thing she expected.

“You are a very beautiful woman.”

She stood there with her mouth open until he raised her chin with his knuckle.

“Why are you surprised?  Surely you have heard the compliment before.”

She shook her head to clear it and find her tongue.  “Not since the accident, except from my brother.  But he’s biased.  He loves me.”

“He but states the obvious.  Your scars do not detract from your beauty.”

“I must thank you because good manners dictate it.  However, I believe we should see about getting you some glasses.”

He laughed.  A rich, deep baritone.  “I’m glad you have a sense of humor.”

She stared back at him, incredulous, “Who was joking?”

The Author

Cynthia Woolf was born in Denver, Colorado and raised in the mountains west of Golden. She spent her early years running wild around the mountain side with her friends.

Their closest neighbor was one quarter of a mile away, so her little brother was her playmate and her best friend. That fierce friendship lasted until his death in 2006.

Cynthia was and is an avid reader. Her mother was a librarian and brought new books home each week. This is where young Cynthia first got the storytelling bug. She wrote her first story at the age of ten. A romance about a little boy she liked at the time.

She worked her way through college and went to work full time straight after graduation and there was little time to write. Then in 1990 she and two friends started a round robin writing a story about pirates. She found that she missed the writing and kept on with other stories. In 1992 she joined Colorado Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America. Unfortunately, the loss of her job demanded she not renew her memberships and her writing stagnated for many years.

In 2001, she saw an ad in the paper for a writers conference being put on by CRW and decided she'd attend. One of her favorite authors, Catherine Coulter, was the keynote speaker. Cynthia was lucky enough to have a seat at Ms. Coulter's table at the luncheon and after talking with her, decided she needed to get back to her writing. She rejoined both CRW and RWA that day and hasn't looked back.
Cynthia credits her wonderfully supportive husband Jim and the great friends she's made at CRW for saving her sanity and allowing her to explore her creativity.

Find more about her at: www.cynthiawoolf.com

Don't miss her tour starting on May 2nd!

There will be interviews, guest posts, reviews and a super giveaway!

Continue Reading...

Book Blast: Spirit Legend by Florence Witkop

Spirit Legend (Legend Series #1)

A Paranormal Romance.

Book Synopsis

Charlie, forester for Macallister Outdoors' corporate wilderness retreat takes Ian Macallister, the owner and her boss, to inspect a newly purchased tract of forest with a tiny lake in the center that fascinates Ian because of the legend of a spirit that resides in the lake.  While there, they see strange lights and hear unearthly music but, before they can investigate further, a storm strands them and destroys the beaver dam that created the lake. Ian insists they stay and repair the dam, even though the corporate center also suffered damage, to save the spirit long enough for him to discover what it is.  In their enforced closeness, Charlie fights her attraction to Ian because she refuses to become half of a workplace affair.  After repairing the dam and leaving, they talk often about their experience and eventually return. During the return trip, Charlie's attraction to Ian grows still stronger.  At the lake, they discover the spirit is real and is the only thing that can save Ian when he is scuba diving and becomes trapped beneath a submerged log.

PRAISE FOR "Spirit Legend"

THIS WILL STAY WITH YOU

I really like this book. I am at a loss as to what genre it fits in because it crosses over so many and so beautifully. Maybe that's why it's impossible to pinpoint. If you love nature, if you love romance, if you love sci-fi, I could go on. It's simply a wonderful story of two people who enounter something unexplicable - the something of which legends have been made. The something has an intelligence and an endearing quality that you won't soon forget and I would be remiss if I didn't say I love a happy outcome. Enjoy it. It's well worth read and your time!"

- Dianne Harman. March 1, 2013



SHORT STORY: This is a story that Florence told us regarding one storm that happens in her book, I couldn't leave this out! 

A reader wished she knew more of the huge storm that isolated Ian and Charlie in the wilderness in my latest book Spirit Legend. So here it is and, yes, there was such a storm. 


It happened on July 4, 1999 and was the largest blow-down ever recorded in North America. It devastated a large part of northern Minnesota, only lasting about 20 minutes but with winds in excess of 90 miles an hour.


We were in the house that day. We happened to look out and saw the darkest, lowest-hanging clouds we'd ever seen. Then, in the blink of an eye, it looked like the earth was being lifted into the sky. We ran for the basement. 


We were fine, the storm passed a mile or so north of us, but the damage it did to the forest will be felt for generations. 

Our daughter was on a train soon after the blow-down and later described miles and miles of trees laid flat and all in one direction, as if a giant comb had been run through the woods. She spoke of seeing that scene for hours and hours as she looked out the window of the train. 

We thought the forest would never be the same. We were wrong. The forest is fine now but we still see occasional small remnants of that storm.


So now you know what inspired the storm in Spirit Legend and what it did to the North Woods.

                -Florence-

Excerpt

The aerial photos covered most of the two pushed-together tables.  The corners and edges were carefully matched to create one large picture, green being the predominant color.  Green as in an evergreen forest.  The only things breaking the green were a few darker lines representing creeks that crisscrossed the area, a fire trail or logging road or two circling the outer edges, and, in the center of it all, a small area of blue that could be a tiny lake, a pond, or, more likely, a swamp.

After scooping up our empty glasses and replacing them with additional drinks on a third table pulled close, Mickey of Mickey's Eatery, leaned over the photos and perused them casually.  Then again, only this time not so casually.  In detail.  Then he thoughtfully traced one of the creeks with a finger.  "I took a canoe along this creek once when I was a kid."  The finger jabbed at the blue in the center of the montage.  "And I ran across this lake when I was hunting rabbits.  It was shallow, lots of rice beds along the shore.  I figured I'd come back and harvest the rice when it was ripe.  I wanted a Harley in the worst way and Harley's are expensive but rice brought a good price that year so I thought I might be able to buy a used one."

There was a huge motorcycle in Mickey's garage.  "So that's when you got your Harley."

"Nope.  I didn't go back and harvest that rice."  Something about his voice gave me pause as I followed his finger.

I didn't look at the man across the table from me.  In fact, I avoided him.  My boss, Ian Macallister, owner and CEO of Macallister Outdoors since his parents retired.  I squirmed inwardly, forced myself to be blank outwardly, and concentrated even harder on the photos so he wouldn't know I was intentionally ignoring him, though my stomach churned as I tried to decipher just how angry he was. That anger was my fault.

The Johns Falls airport was too small to have a waiting room or any of the luxuries of larger airports so Ian Macallister was waiting on a folding chair hastily provided by the single airport employee.  He was polite enough when I peeled into the parking lot, ran full bore into the waiting room and skidded to a stop in front of him, but his back didn't touch the chair, and that could indicate anger… or frustration… or merely that he was a fitness freak and always bore himself with a ramrod straight back.  I hoped it was the last but, figuring it was more likely the first, I waited to be fired, smiling weakly and standing tall so as to present as imposing a figure as I knew how..

His expression didn’t change.  I felt myself shrinking as he unfolded from the airport chair and loomed over me, forcing me to look up into his six foot something self.  Into his eyes.  They were dark.  From anger or were they always midnight blue or did that just happen now because I'd soon be unemployed?  Or was he born with bottomless eyes?  I wanted to fold my arms across my body in a feeble attempt to ward off his anger.  But he said nothing, merely picked up the single suitcase that was his luggage and asked if there was somewhere in town where he could eat since it was getting late.

So I forced myself to breathe in and out, in and out, until I could sound normal, and suggested Mickey's Pub and Eatery.  Then I followed him out of the terminal and into the storm that had moved his flight up a couple hours and had hit in all its fury during the few minutes we were in the terminal.  There was no waiting for it to pass, it was supposed to last all night.  Storms threatened to hammer the area off and on for the next couple weeks with one storm following another as if they were trains on the same track, with possibly a day in between.

I stepped into the rain and wind and was almost knocked sidewise.  Ian Macallister, however, was a rock.  I moved closer to use his body as a windbreak. As I basked in the relative calm his bulk provided, I decided not to mention the real reason for my tardiness until he was in a mellow frame of mind such as Mickey was providing compliments of another round of drinks.  Strong, I'd guess, knowing Mickey.  I didn't drink because it was my job to drive my boss to the Center and Mickey knew that, so mine were Virgin Mary's.

Eventually, when Mickey's drinks had my boss in a mellow frame of mind, I would explain my late arrival.  Until then I threw Mickey a grateful look and he nodded imperceptibly in answer.  He knows me, Mickey does, and the endless rounds of drinks were a gesture of true friendship.

I looked again at the photos, wondering what about them was so seductive.  They were just photos of the property the Center had recently acquired and they showed miles of unspoiled wilderness.  I'd felt total awe after I printed them out and put them together to form a comprehensive picture.  I'd found myself staring at a jewel, a rare and ecologically unique acquisition to be cared for with love.  And, as the Center's newest Forester, I'd be doing the caring.

I was so enthralled that I'd forgot the time and that was why I was late, though I doubted my boss would see that as a good reason to leave him cooling his  heels on a folding chair.  Now, if silence was any indication, I'd not work for Macallister Outdoors much longer.  Not long enough to visit the rare slice of wilderness that had caused my lateness.

Now, in Mickey's Pub and Eatery, Ian Macallister moved for the first time since finishing dinner.  My breath stopped but all he did was lean closer to follow Mickey's pointing finger.  "You say you've been there?"  Mickey nodded.  "And you intended to return ?"  Mickey nodded again.  "But you didn't?"  Mickey shook his head and my boss asked quietly, with no inflection, "Why not?"

Mickey was glad to talk.  He's a loquacious guy.  "When my parents found out where I'd been, they were angry."  Mickey moved the empty glasses from one hand to the other, restlessly.  "No, they weren't angry, that's the wrong word.  They were concerned.  No, that's not right either.  They were… scared."

I peered at the photos.  There was nothing dangerous about the property Macallister Outdoors had purchased.  No cliffs, no dangerous rapids in any of the several creeks, nothing that I could see.  Then I thought of a possible reason.  "Was the bottom of the lake mud?  If you were alone and overturned your canoe, you'd not have made it to shore."

He shook his head.  "It did look muddy when I was there, but that wasn't the reason."

Ian's lips pursed and he zeroed in on Mickey.  "They why didn't they let you go back?"

"Because of the… thing… in the lake."

I examined the tiny blue area that could be a lake.  Or a pond.  Or a swamp.  "It's a wide area of a creek is all.  Nothing unusual about it."

"The creek backs up behind a beaver dam.  It forms a small lake but if that dam breaks, the lake will cease to exist."

"It doesn't look dangerous."

"It's not the lake itself that scared them."

Ian peered closer.  "Then what?"

Mickey curled his shoulders forward the way people do when they are embarrassed.  "It was because of the spirit that lives in the lake.  Or spirits.  No one knows if it's one spirit or a lot of them."

"Spirit?"  I laughed, an explosion of sound that released some of my pent-up tension.  "Really?"  His parents were Chippewa and their ancestors had lived in the area forever, but his dad was a banker and his mom operated a jewelry store. They were educated, savvy people. "Your mom and dad don't believe that stuff."

"You know them.  Of course they don't.  But that one time, they did.  Or at least they believed what their parents had told them enough to not want to take any chances."

"Your grandparents believed in spirits?"  I'd met his grandparents.  They both had college degrees.  "How far back does this go?  Who started this fantasy?"

"I don't know.  A long time.  Hundreds of years, maybe.  Probably."

"And you believe it?"

"I didn't say I believe it.  I said my folks wouldn't let me go back to harvest wild rice so I had to get a job in town to earn money for my first bike.  And it wasn't a Harley, either, and it would have been if I'd got that wild rice and sold it.  I couldn't afford a Harley until years later."

Ian Macallister leaned back, a half smile giving his face expression for the first time since I saw him in the airport terminal.  He still said nothing, choosing to listen, but I was sure he heard every word, saw every expression, and correctly interpreted every nuance.  For some reason, the topic of spirits interested him.  Mellowed him.  Might make him forget to fire me.

So I talked about spirits.  "What is this spirit supposed to be like?

"Or spirits.  Plural, maybe.  Or singular.  Nice sometimes.  Other times, not so nice.  Depends."

"On what?"

"The old people… my grandparents and the people before them… didn't say.  Just that whatever is in that lake… "

"It's not a true lake, just a wide spot in a river," Ian interjected in a low voice.

"Whatever is in the lake doesn't suffer fools gladly.  Or is reclusive.  Or afraid.  That's the best way I can put it."  Mickey was uncomfortable beneath my boss' scrutiny.  Ian Macallister's eyes were darker than before and intense.  Because, unlike Mickey, he believed in ghosts?  "According to the old people, it depends on who is at the lake and what they do."  He stopped tossing the glasses from hand to hand and that broke the spell his words had cast over me.  "All I can say is it didn't talk to me and, while I was there I didn't see anything resembling a spirit.  Maybe because there's no such thing."

"Most likely that's it."  Ian wanted to ask more but Mickey moved away, glasses in hand.

"Have you ever heard the wind in the trees?"  I yelled after him, making sure the topic of ghosts stayed in the forefront of the conversation because my continued employment might depend on it.  

"Some people think it sounds like voices.  Like someone singing."

Mickey paused in his headlong rush.  "My people have lived in the forest for hundreds of years.  I think they know the sound the wind makes well enough not to mistake it for anything other than what it is. The wind."  He continued on and disappeared in the kitchen.

"Or the sound of water on rocks."  I concentrated on Ian Macallister and added to the list of possibilities.  "Or an echo if the creek has steep enough banks."

"Or everything you mentioned."  Ian pulled his chair closer to the photos and leaned over them, effectively shutting me up.  "This talk of spirits and beaver dams and lakes and rivers makes me curious."  He gathered the photos into a pile that he then stuffed into the large envelope I'd carried from the Explorer when we arrived.  "I'd not given any real thought to this new acquisition when I flew in today.  My plans were more along the lines of bookkeeping.  But I'm thinking about changing them."

"To what?"

"Checking out the new property.  The wilderness.  Everything.  All of it."

He didn't fool me.  It was the lake that held his interest.  And the spirit that legend said inhabited it.  "Will you go alone?"

"I'll want a guide.  I'm sure there's someone at the Center whose job includes knowing their way around the property."

"A forester."

His eyebrows rose.  "We employ foresters?"

It was hard to breathe.  "Yes you do.  Me.  I'm the forester."  Something told me that it was time to come clean.   To tell the truth.  "And that's why I was late.  Because I was looking over the photos of the new property."  I counted to ten until I could speak without the squeak that made his eyebrows rise a bit.  "I'm sorry for that."

He blinked.  Tilted his head slightly. Let his eyebrows fall back to their normal position above his eyes.   Frowned a second then let a smile slide briefly across what seconds earlier had been a chiseled countenance, and some of the fear that had almost immobilized me melted.  "You were late?  I hadn't noticed."

He was a nice liar.  He had too noticed, the chill in the airport had been enough to freeze the entire county, but he wanted to see the tiny lake in the forest and that meant he needed me.  And that meant I'd keep my job and he'd be nice to me, at least until he'd seen everything he wanted to see.

When my alarm went off, many hours later, it was morning the sun was shining.  We'd best get going if we wanted to reach that lake and return before the next storm. And no, we weren't going to inspect some new property.  Not even to see the lake, pretty as it might be.  We were going on a ghost hunt.

LINKS:

AMAZON  

SMASHWORDS

WEBSITE

The Author

Veteran romance writer Florence Witkop was born in the city and has lived in the suburbs, the country and the wilderness where she still lives and writer contemporary, sci/fi and fantasy romances that have a gothic feel and are romantic without being erotic.  At various times she's been a confession writer, a copywriter, a ghost writer and an editor.  She writes short stories novellas and novels.

Find more about her at: www.florencewitkop.com

Blast Giveaway:

Win an e-copy of Spirit Legend!

Open Internationally!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Continue Reading...