I’m stuck in bed with a migraine when I need to be hauling ass on my treadmill (ok, crawling at 2 mph) while editing my new YA Fantasy Romance HALFLING.
still, I was trying to do a little promo, but when I tried to send it to the yahoo group it was a total fail. Feeling sorry for myself, I decided to share the blurb and excerpt here. So, if you’re trolling the interwebs feeling sorry for yourself, like I am and here’s a little content to spice up your evening.
Blurb: Never fall in love with a man in a photo. Especially, if he’s dead . . .
Balanced on the knife-edge edge of going feral, chimera Ethan Wade has no idea what he is. All the former Navy SEAL turned maritime treasure hunter knows is his explosive temper has destroyed his life, driving him to an isolated rental house in Western, NY, to lick his wounds. When a molotov cocktail of rage and alcohol triggers an uncontrolled shift, he is caught between shapes.
Disembodied, he can only come to one conclusion: He’s died and become a ghost.
Blowing the whistle lost lawyer Devon Daughtry her boyfriend, (not too much of a loss), her job, (a bit worse) and with the rents in Manhattan, a primo apartment (the straw that broke the camel’s back).
Now she’s run home to Cassadaga determined to re-build her life by hanging out her shingle as a psychic medium.
When she discovers a photograph of Ethan while moving in, she’s crushed to discover the man whose lonely eyes strike a chord deep within her soul is missing and presumed dead. Soon, she begins having passionate dreams about him. Dreams that Ethan shares.
But Ethan isn’t the only being in the house. A demonic presence has followed her home and it has diabolical plans for both of them.
Kindle price $2.99 $0.00 on Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt: With a sigh, she turned back to the other side, and to her surprise, she gazed into Ethan’s face, not the picture on the wall. The man lying naked on the bed next to her. His eyes
were closed as if he slept.
Her heart raced. She still dreamed, of course. The man she knew only from a photograph was dead, but he looked real and when she touched the face highlighted and striped by the light and shadow from the window, he felt real. The heat of him seared her fingertips.
He opened his eyes.
His irises shone silver-green in the moonlight, like new grass. She rubbed her fingers across the inky, crew-cut on the back of his head, enjoying the silky but prickly texture. He groaned, almost purred. She wanted to feel that sexy mouth on hers. Why not? She’d been denied earlier and it was only a dream. With that thought she pressed forward, capturing his
The Things That Go Bump in the Night need love, too.