Wednesday, May 29, 2019

Author Alanea Alder

I fell in love with the UK when I went for the first time last year, so it’s a toss up between Edinburgh and Dublin. Every where you turn there’s something else to see and do. In Edinburgh I absolutely loved the Old Town Chambers hotel. It’s sort of like a set of apartments. We had a small kitchen and a washer and dryer. It was perfect for a mid-trip stop. In Dublin I went to the Guinness Storehouse and Trinity College, both were amazing places to visit. I can see myself returning for more inspiration.


My Solace
Bewitched and Bewildered
Book 11
Alanea Alder

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Sacred Forest Publishing

Date of Publication: May

ISBN: 978-1-941315-25-5

Number of pages: 282
Word Count: 71,00

Cover Artist: Kim Killion

Tagline: She’s been Bewitched, he’s Bewildered

Book Description:

For thousands of years Oron Vi’Eirson has lived each day trying to keep the pain and devastation caused by his family from hurting his precious baby brother. But despite his best efforts his past has come back to haunt him, placing not only Darian and Amelia in harm’s way, but also his newly found mate.

Isabelle Campbell, or as she likes to be called, Izzy, is a mess. She knows this. It’s never intentional, but somehow her curiosity always seems to run away from her. When her latest gaffe lands her homeless and fired from her favorite barista job she is left little choice but to accept the kindness of some of her favorite customers, little did she know that by doing so, she would find herself starting the biggest adventure of her life!

With kindred spirit Meryn at her side, Izzy takes on the entire fae city to protect the heart of the kindest man she has ever met. If the golden fae think they can get away with hurting her mate, they are sorely mistaken. After all, her new friend likes to electrocute people.

When facing your greatest fear means facing your family, is there any escape? Can Izzy help Oron stand against all odds?

Amazon            Amazon UK         Amazon AU         Amazon CA


Law wiped at his eyes from silent laughter. “She does this to me every damn time,” he complained, barely able to breathe. Two of the other warriors around the room had buried their face in their hands to hide their own laughter.
Pierce looked over at Aiden. “Seriously though, what did she learn about butts in Noctem Falls?”
Law inhaled as he leaned back slightly and fell off his chair. To see a man that size laughing on the floor was all it took to set everyone off.
“Serenity, I don’t think he’s breathing,” Micah commented watching Law wrap his arms around his mid-section as he gasped.
“If he can laugh, he can breathe,” she said, shaking her head at Meryn’s shenanigans.
“See, I told you Izzy, this is a nice place.” A warrior commented, coming up behind them from the direction of the front door.
“I don’t know, it’s mostly men and they look kinda drunk to me. Maybe this is like a bar or sex dungeon. Like a drunken, gay, sex dungeon,” a piping female replied.
“Oh gods above, I can’t breathe!” Law called from the floor. Oron shook his head at the man’s plight.
Micah’s eyes bugged out. “A drunken, gay, sex dungeon?”
Meryn nodded. “They’re all a bunch a mannequins.”
“They like the rough stuff huh?” the sweet voice asked.
“No! What?” Aiden looked from one female to the other then paused. “How did you know she meant masochist?”
“We were talking about sex dungeons, I kinda extrapolated that the misused random word that began with the letter ‘m’ was a term that more accurately fit the conversation. It wasn’t that hard actually.”
“She meant masochist?” Micah asked.
Serenity stood over Law now looking concerned. “Okay, my earlier assessment may have been off, I don’t think he’s getting any oxygen.” She placed her hands on his chest and eased his laughter.
Law gasped for air. “Gods Meryn, you can’t keep doing this to me!” he managed to croak out.
“So, not a sex dungeon?”
Chuckling Oron turned in his chair and suddenly he couldn’t breathe for reasons of his own, the petite auburn haired beauty that had understood nutty Meryn perfectly was his mate!

About the Author:

USA Today Best Selling Author, Alanea loves reading almost as much as she loves writing. She began writing at a very young age, some of her first scribblings are treasured in a keepsake box and written in green marker. She started when she was still in grade school and continued on through college.

She believes that love truly conquers all and that everyone no matter what, deserves a chance at that love and a place they can call home. She absolutely loves to hear from her readers so don’t hesitate to reach out to her. As always, her promise to her readers remains, “If you keep reading, I’ll keep writing!”

Promotions Page

Short Stories

Tuesday, May 21, 2019

Author Giuliana Sica

On this side of the ocean, for a quick and southern-magic infused getaway, my favorite vacation spot is definitely New Orleans. I think Venice and New Orleans share a mysterious and timeless energy I have yet to find in other cities. Both seem to be encapsulated in a timeless bubble. The moment you arrive time stills and hearts beat to a different, more melodic beat. Every breath we take becomes a swaying of sensuous energy filling our beings with a relaxed and willing-to-go-with the-flow attitude.

People in New Orleans, especially around the French Quarter don’t just merely walk, they sort of dance in a slow-motion swag, as if constantly listening to one of those sultry jazzy tunes always caressing the air.

My favorite hotel is the St. Pierre, right on the edge of the French Quarter and within walking distance to all the major downtown attractions and trolley stops to the Garden District and other areas of attraction. Its décor and design exemplifies charming French Quarter architecture and ambiance. The guest rooms are located amid lusciously landscaped courtyards, gurgling fountains and swimming pools. The complimentary continental breakfast is a lot more than a simple meal. It features biscuits and fluffy scrambled eggs. The coffee is strong and always freshly brewed. But the most peculiar, and perhaps to some fearful attraction, is the fact that the hotel seems to be haunted. As one of the oldest properties still in existence today in New Orleans, guests of the Hotel St Pierre have reported all sorts of ghostly happenings during their stay, especially in the old Peyroux House, a hotspot of paranormal activity. What is heard most are the sounds of footsteps. As we toured the property, Assistant General Manager Cody McLain filled us in on a call that he had received just a few weeks earlier. One woman staying in the carriage house directly behind the front lobby area called to make a complaint. It was late at night, she was ready for sleep, and the heavy sound of footsteps in the room above hers was driving her batty. Naturally, she asked McLain to tell her upstairs neighbors to quiet down. There was only one problem: No one was staying in the room above hers. The sounds of heavy footfalls stomping about were not the sounds of a rambunctious guest, but the sounds of a ghost—an entity of some sort—making its presence known during the late hours of the night. Perhaps it is the spirit of one of the Peyroux family members checking on the status of their old home; perhaps it is the ghost of the Confederate soldier that is said to still haunt the property. Although we can’t be certain who is responsible for the otherworldly activity, it seems that the Hotel St Pierre meets their after-death standards and those ghosts are here to stay. I always found this sort of places fascinating, but I also know they’re not everybody cup of tea.

As far as attractions and things to do, I would start with checking out all the little street art markets, meander along the Mississipi bank and perhaps even take a tour on one of the colorful steam river boats. A nice lunch break at Le Café du Monde (where, I kid you not, I actually tried fried alligator tail and liked it) to savor Cajun specialties while listening to a local jazz/blues live band.
The afternoons are for exploring the majestic Garden District. Even on its busiest days, the neighborhood's large, graceful mansions seem to invoke a hushed reverence among those who flock to see them. 

These mansions and the elegant landscaping around them are the main tourist attraction in the Garden District, but there are other must-sees as well. Make some time to just stroll around and admire the architecture and the marvelous details that make each mansion unique and don't forget to explore Lafayette Cemetery one of the famous New Orleans above-ground cemeteries. And perhaps finish with a visit to the Garden District Book Shop. One of the finest in the city and boasts author Anne Rice among its biggest fans. A cursory glance at the store's online calendar will give you information about interesting upcoming events, including book readings and signings with both local and out-of-town authors. Of particular interest is the shop's extensive selection of New Orleans and Louisiana-focused work. This always includes one or more books that contain directions for a self-guided walking tour of the neighborhood, so if that's of interest, stop in and pick one up before embarking on your own adventure.

The evenings are made to dress up in flowery dresses and strappy sandals, for reservations at one of the myriads delicious restaurants, and forget about diet restrictions for once. If you love spices, flavors and seafood, then Cajun and Creole cuisine are a must try! I adore Jambalaya and Gumbo. In New Orleans even okra loses its sliminess and acquires a tangy, almost arugula peppery flavor.

In Book I, Among the Cloud Dwellers I sent Porzia to New Orleans for a subliminally passionate weekend of delicious food, bubbly champagnes and magical lovemaking. I envied every single word I wrote in that chapter. Especially when she tried on a spaghetti strap, backless dress with no bra on, and her bosom held its own.

Yes, New Orleans is definitely one of not my favorite place to visit, especially in Spring and Fall.


The Bridge Across Times
Entrainement Series
Book II
Giuliana Sica

Genre: Magical Realism, WitchLit,  PNR

Date of Publication:  May 17th, 2019

ISBN: 9781797676142

Number of pages: 244
Word Count: 63,496

Cover Artist: Enterline Design

Tagline: Join Porzia in her magic quest for a timeless soulmate.

Book Description:

Porzia's journey continues.

From the first page, Magic carries Porzia and all of us into an exotic and fantastic world. Emerging from two years of grief, her quest for a soul mate takes her to Japan where an unexpected encounter with a mysterious and fatally attractive artist unleashes an irresistible whirlwind of passion.

Music entangles them in a slow, sensuous dance. With the help of her esoteric teacher Evalena, Porzia has been honing her magic abilities. More confident and controlled, she now summons Magic at her will... with only an occasional flaring of rebellious powers.

Among scrumptious bites of delicious food and thirst-quenching sips of wine she summons a ghost from a distant past. The enigmatic message leaves her puzzled, but also determined to resolve the mystery hidden in the almond-shaped eyes of her dangerous and yet so passionate lover.

Each intriguing and intoxicating page is another luscious bite into Porzia's world and the magical possibilities that may be there for all of us.

Firenze, Italia. Galleria degli Uffizi.
The echo of the security guard’s footsteps slowly faded toward the distant museum exit.
Silence echoed along the austere arcades on the first floor. Sunset filtered through the ancient windows, the sun rays interrupted in their paths by massive walls. Golden light ricocheted and dispersed off myriads of dancing dust motes. At the end of the high-windowed Galleria, the heartbeat began to pound within the chilled white marble of Michelangelo’s Davide. Life’s essence stirred through his perfectly chiseled body until strength and heat gave him the power to move. He slipped from his pedestal and headed toward Venere in Botticelli’s room.
Davide’s shadow glided undisturbed amongst dozing masterpieces. On the upper level, beneath gilded ceilings, silence reigned.
Venere stepped out of her golden frame and leaving her seashell behind, she entered reality. The Angels’ gazes followed her progress while her ancella gently smiled and wiped a lonesome tear.
Still wet from the scented sea mist, Venere’s long auburn hair trailed, barely covering her glowing body. Desire stirred deep within her soul, conjuring rhythmic waves within her.
She met Davide on a sunset-lit windowsill. Doubts dissipated, washed away by the high tide of her will. The lovers allowed the salt-scented mist to subdue them, slowly, to unfold erotic dreams.
Please let reality be what fantasy was.
As the sun’s light faded away, she drew him in, savoring primitive rituals, riding the moist rhythm of the waves to slowly drown their thirst. With the moon silently smiling, they reached for the sky and left agony behind.
That was the night my parents gave me life.
This life.
If I were a color, I would be gold. Born under the blessing of the full moon, protected by ageless winged guardians, I played hopscotch with Giotto on checkered floors and hide-and-seek with masterpieces along marble staircases, among their golden frames and moth-dappled velvet drapes. My tiny hands pressed against rain-streaked windows while outside the river Arno swelled and found its way to the sea.
I grew up in the shadow of the Leaning tower of Pisa. And although the colors of Tuscany in August blush my skin, it is the Manouche mystery that pounds through my veins. I know the woods where Dante lost his way as the palm of my hand. I could escort you to the Inferno door blindfolded, for I have knocked on it often myself. I crossed the Mississippi River and heard Jesse James ask Huckleberry Finn if he were real.
I swam with dolphins in the Gulf of Mexico and danced with the Queen of New Orleans on a wet, humid winter night. I got drunk with Ezili in Savannah and cursed life, screaming at the moon in rage. I wandered in meadows restlessly and watched the winds with a longing I could not understand.
I challenged the Goddess, belied my powers, and regretted it all. I soared after a majestic eagle toward a sinking sun and caught up with her by Ayers Rock, where, anguished, I bowed. Subjugated at last, I embraced Magic.
Too wild, too strong to be mortal, I wove a dream with love in my heart, passion in my soul, and the breath of my life.
I have summoned the elements, conjured my yearning into a spell to be taken away across the endless sky. I have swallowed my pride and begged the gods to give me proof that life is worth the fight. Now I walk through sorrow barefoot, careful not to step on the sharp, shattered pieces of my broken dream.
Now I lay still, numb and spent, waiting.
Until rage and anger fueled my soul to rise.
I sought answers and hope in distant lands, in ancient scripture, in encrypted mysteries and timeless traditions. I sought answers within and finally understood how to accept the void of my damaged soul, how to gather strength to stir and to finally move, once again, into the beauty of life’s simplicity. 
I healed, nurturing my wounds, shedding tender skin. Reaching for the goddess within, at last, I have accepted my feminine self. Bowing to the Rising Sun I welcomed my new self and embraced Courage. Instants later, absolutely still in a Veronica, I held a crimson cape of fears, enticed a crippled wolf to charge, and defied time.

About the Author:

Giuliana was born in Siena, Italy. At the age of 4 her father gave her a box of markers. She immediately began to doodle stories on the house walls. After a few weeks of repainting, they finally gave her paper as well. She has not stopped writing since. She calls home Whidbey Island where she settled in 2001 after globetrotting teaching Italian in exotic places as far as Japan.

She holds a Classic Italian Literature and Philosophy degree with a minor in English still laced with a Chianti-infused accent. She speaks fluent Spanish, has forgotten most of her French, and holds tightly to her Japanese, mostly by eating sushi every chance she gets. She shares a yellow cottage on the island with her husband, 3 cats, an unstoppable toddler, a vegetable garden, and a fig tree named Federico. Every residual free minute of her life is spent working on Book III, and catching up on some much-needed sleep.

a Rafflecopter giveaway