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Category: Beverley Bateman

November 11th is Remembrance Day in Canada. It’s a memorial day observed in Commonwealth member states since the end of the First World War to honour armed forces members who have died in the line of duty. It is also known as Poppy Day due to the tradition of wearing a poppy which is sold at multiple locations by veterans. It is also celebrated by parades, laying of wreaths, and a moment of silence to remember those who have died. John McCrae wrote this well-known poem.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

 

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

In the US November 11th is known as Veterans Day or Armistice Day. It is a federal holiday observed annually on November 11th  It honoring the military veterans, who are people who have served in the United States Armed Forces.  It is celebrated by the laying of wreaths and two minutes of silence is held at 11 am.

A Cruise to Remember

An amnesia victim found by the side of the road is befriended by Lillian, an older woman with early Alzheimer's. Lillian takes the victim, who they call Hallie, with her as a companion on a Caribbean cruise. Eric is an Interpol agent working on catching an international jewelry theft ring. He's undercover as the ship's doctor on the Caribbean cruise ship. Sparks fly when Hallie and Eric meet, but as the cruise progresses Eric’s thinking Hallie might be the thief stealing from the passengers. His reasoning is Hallie’s amnesia and Lillian’s Alzheimer's make a good cover. What’s the chance of two people traveling together having amnesia and Alzheimer’s? And then Lillian keeps coming up with pieces of jewelry passengers have dropped or lost.

 

To complicate everything someone is trying to kill Hallie and she has no idea why. Lillian finds an older cowboy who she's interested in and then there's the sleazy man who keeps hitting on Hallie. As the cruise progresses Hallie gradually starts to regain her memory. Eric decides she's not a thief, but has to find the real one and keep Hallie safe while their romance heats up.

Buy links:

Excerpt

Jack yanked her roughly against his chest and shoved her into a corner.

“No.” Hallie yanked one arm free and shot it at his jaw.

A shocked expression slashed across Jack’s face.

“There you are. I thought you promised to meet me for a drink?”

Jack dropped his hands. He spun around to face the speaker who approached them.

“What the hell...?”

Eric stretched his hand toward Hallie. “I don’t like being stood up. Shall we?”

“Yes, of-of course.” Hallie took his hand.

Eric slipped his hand around her waist and led her away.

Jack watched them depart, his eyes smoldered with anger, his chin jutted forward. “We’ll finish this later,” he hissed after her.

“Did we have a date, Dr. Peterson?” Hallie asked.

“No and call me Eric. I saw what he was doing. You didn’t appear to be enjoying it. My God, woman, don’t you have any idea how to handle a situation like that? And how the hell did you get yourself into that position in the first place? I didn’t take you for a stupid person.”

“I’m not stupid,” Hallie sniffed. “But you’re right. I feel pretty dumb right now. Jack out maneuvered me. It didn’t matter what I did, he wouldn’t give up.”

Hallie trembled.

“I suggest you stay away from him in the future. I might not be around to save you next time. Are you sure you’re all right?” Eric stopped and looked down at her.

“Yes, I think so. Don’t worry. I don’t plan to let him anywhere near me again.”

“Good.”

“I kicked, scratched and even yelled at him to leave me alone. Nothing worked and no one paid any attention when I yelled. I-I think he was going to try and make love to me right here on the deck. Thank you for rescuing me.”

“You looked terrified. I couldn’t believe you’d let him grope you like that.” Eric snapped.

“I couldn’t stop him. I did punch him. I even managed to draw blood at one point,” she said.

“You need to learn to throw a better punch than that if you want to do any damage.”

“Maybe you could teach me?”

Eric shook his head, “We’ll saw you had no idea how to handle him--so Eric to the rescue. By the way, he wanted sex, he didn’t want to make love to you, trust me. There is a difference. Don’t you remember anything about relationships? Or appropriate behavior between men and women?”

“Nope.”

“You can’t remember anything about how you reacted in the past?”

“How could I? I don’t remember my past. How would I know how I reacted? And maybe no one has ever tried to rape me before. I don’t know. Give me a break. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Good. I hope so. You have no knowledge at all about what happens on a date?”

“No, not really; conversation, eating, maybe a movie, I guess. I’m going to have to learn that process all over again, except, it’s going to be harder because when you’re an adult you’re supposed to know what it’s all about. People expect that you know the games and the rules. Jack certainly thought I did. I feel like a child trying to play grown up games.”

“I guess I am going to have to give you lessons.” Eric warmed her with his smile. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine now.”

“You’re still shaking. Come on over here where it’s quiet.” Eric found a sheltered corner, away from most of the passengers. “Sit down, doctors’ orders. I’ll be right back with two drinks. You could use something to relax you. They have special sail-away drinks. You okay with that you?”

He slipped his uniform jacket off and draped it around her shoulders, over her shawl.

“Sounds great, but it’s not necessary.” She felt warmer in the jacket and his musky male scent enveloped her. It was pleasant and sexual. She knew didn’t react to all men’s scent this way. She looked up and noticed his lip curled slightly as he smiled.

“Yeah, it is. Keep the jacket on to help warm you up. I’ll be right back.”

Hallie sat on the edge of the chair. She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. She relaxed slightly and leaned back. Eric’s jacket slipped from her shoulders to the deck. She bent to

pick it up when she felt rather than heard a buzzing sound, something like a mosquito, past her left ear.

Strange.

She sat back up and twisted around to adjust Eric’s jacket. There was a hole in the back of the deck chair.

Funny, I don’t remember it being there before I picked up the jacket.

She ran her finger over the hole.

“Here we go.” Eric carried a couple of tall, red, orange and yellowed colored drinks topped off with parasols.

“What were you doing?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. There was a funny sound, like a mosquito, and I think this hole just appeared.”

“What the hell...?” Eric placed the drinks onto a nearby table. He ran his finger over the hole.

“It’s a bloody bullet hole.”

“A what? You’re kidding?”

“No, I’m not. Where were you when it happened?” Eric looked at the hole. He squinted back in the direction it would have come from.

“I guess that’s when I bent down to pick up your jacket.”

“My God, you could have been killed.” Eric pulled Hallie into his arms and squeezed her against his chest. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

“I think so. I mean, I wasn’t hit or anything. I can’t figure out what’s happening. This has to be one of the worst nights of my life.”

 

 

 

Winter is on the horizon. I’m not sure what it’s like where you live but we’re having a lovely fall. Day time temperatures are above freezing and mostly sunny. 

The US border is finally going to open land travel to people fully vaccinated against Covid. We will finally be able to head south to our place in Tucson, hopefully before the snow begins.


 

This month we have Remembrance Day in Canada on November 11th. Let us never forget and honour our heroes, the armed forces, both past and present. Wear a poppy and have a moment of silence to remember.

In the US November 11th is known by the Americans as Veterans Day or Armistice Day. It honors the military veterans who are people who have served in the United States Armed Forces. Two minutes of silence is held at 11 am.


 

And then the Americans celebrate Thanksgiving. It is a Federal holiday celebrated on the fourth Thursday in November. Traditionally, this holiday celebrates the giving of thanks for the autumn harvest. This year it will be on November 25th. It’s a big family holiday with lots of food and football. 

I’m taking a break from editing. I need to get the house winterized, pack and plan our trip, then drive south. I do most of the driving. Our daughter will be staying in our place while we’re gone. So no blurb this month.


 

 


Enjoy the fall and remember Remembrance Day


I’m stealing an information letter from Amy Atwell, but I don’t think she’ll mind my sharing with writers, authors, and interested readers. It’s general information she searches out and shares.

Phishing / Spam Emails

I received an email regarding a Moderna Vaccine Survey.  It was addressed to an email address I don’t actually have, but copied to one of my Gmail addresses.  There were at least 3 different Unsubscribe buttons.  I didn’t click anything (don’t even click the unsubscribe buttons on these things!).  I just marked it as Junk/Spam and deleted from my computer.  

Amazon’s Transparency Codes on print bar codes:

Amazon adding transparency codes to KDP book covers to boost engagement

And, in keeping with Amazon wanting to add a QR code and track physical books (and people who scan them), if you don’t want KDP to generate your bar code (and include their own transparency code), you can now generate a bar code to give to your cover artist and have them incorporate it into your cover art.  On KDP, there’s a box to click to let them know that you’re including a bar code in your cover art so they don’t generate their own. 

Free ISBN Bar Code Generator, courtesy of Kindlepreneur:

https://kindlepreneur.com/isbn-bar-code-generator/

Apple Holiday Delivery Times

As they always do, Apple is reminding you to upload books well in advance during the holidays.  Apple still tends to close down for the Christmas holidays, so remember that their could be a few days where processing is slow or the iTunes Connect dashboard goes offline.  

Basically, starting in early November, work toward uploading your eBooks or pre-programming price changes 2 weeks in advance.  If you plan to release a book during the first week of January, you should upload that content 3 weeks in advance so it doesn’t sit on a server while the Apple Books staff is off enjoying the holidays.  

Draft2Digital Promotional Pricing — all currencies, start and end dates.

If you’re logged in as the admin/owner of the account, you can preset promotional pricing in advance, just as you do at Apple, Kobo and BN.  

All retailers are encouraging you to order NOW if you need printed books by Christmas. 

Expect the delivery delays to be real this holiday season.

Current WIP

Excerpt

Susan fumbled for the key. Her left hand still gripped the dog leash. Her other hand automatically tried the doorknob, fully expecting it to be locked.

 

It clicked opened.

 

She frowned and hesitated a second. That was strange. He always kept it locked.

 

A soft popping sound came from inside the room.

 

A low guttural growl became a snarl. The giant wolfhound yanked on the leash, dragging  Susan reluctantly through the doorway. 

She let out an involuntary gasp. At the far end of the room Mr. Andrews, still sat in his favorite chair. He was slumped forward, dark blood matted the back of his head. The man behind the chair turned, his gun pointed at her.

 

Their gaze locked briefly. Susan shivered as she stared into his cold, pale blue eyes.

 

Wolf barked furiously. He strained at the leash, attempting to lunge forward. He jerked her closer to the man. He fired at her but missed when Wolf jerked her off balance.

 

In that split second, the animal’s shaggy head rubbing against her waist, Susan Brown, single mother and professional dog walker, knew the true meaning of terror.  Her chest contracted. She heard a scream.

 

It couldn’t have come from her. She couldn’t even breathe.  She felt frozen, unable to move. She offered up a wordless prayer that her legs would move. She turned and felt a flash of relief when they responded. Yanking at the leash with both hands to get the dog started, Susan raced out the door and down the apartment hallway. Another shot missed her.

 

Oh God, I’ve got to get to Hank. I can’t let anything happen to my son. He’s too young to be without his mother.

 

Her pulse pounded in her ears, terror clutched her throat, her thoughts on her son she ran. The enormity of what she had just witnessed sank in. He would be after her, probably speeding silently down the hall behind her. Even if she got away, he’d have to find her. He ‘d have to kill her.

 

The dog’s leash was still wrapped tightly around her hand. Wolf whined as he tried to return to his master. Her mind fixed on her son, sweet, loveable Hank she dragged the dog along with her. . She had to get to Hank. If the killer shot her, what would happen to her son?  No father, and then no mother. Even if she escaped the killer would hunt her down. He’d find out about Hank. He might try to get to her through her son. Oh God, and then he’d kill them both.

 

Prodded by fear for her son, Susan rounded the second-floor landing, feet barely touching the floor. 

 

Damn, the dog is slowing me down.

 

She should let go of the leash, but it was wrapped too tightly around her hand. She would have to stop to release it. So, she kept running, dragging the reluctant, barking wolfhound behind her.

 

She didn’t see the man until she landed on top of him at the foot of the stairs. The three of them collapsed in a pile. Man, woman, and dog, all leashed together. Susan's gaze met his glare. She found herself staring into deep, Mediterranean-blue eyes. Her stomach contracted in a spasm of cold recognition. Then the terror blasted back, full force.

 

This had to be the worst day of her life.

 

“What the hell’s goin’ on?” He snapped.

 

Susan struggled against him. The dog leash, tangled around their legs, held their bodies firmly together.

 

The frantic dog continued to bark and struggle for freedom. The result pulled them even tighter together. The barking , the heat, the sweat, and the closeness surrounded and compressed her so she couldn’t breathe.

 

With supreme effort, spurred on by terror, Susan managed to get her feet solidly on the floor and slide out of the tangled mess. She hit the floor running, raced out the door, down the few steps and into the descending darkness of the humid, crowded, New York Street.

 

“You! Stop! Wait! Stop! Damn it!”

 

July rain spattered her face,  dripped off the end of her nose and chin. Behind her, she could hear him swearing and the dog barking. Free of the dog she sprinted through the crowd, down the street and around the corner. Her feet pounded  against the pavement as she pushed past blurs of people, lights, and buildings. She vaguely heard the angry voices as she shoved her way through the crowd, slamming bodies that were in her way and for the first time she could remember, she was glad of her height and her long legs. They rapidly covered the distance between her and Hank. Once they were safe, she’d take time to figure out a plan.

 

She felt badly about leaving the dog. Poor Wolf...he was such a sweet animal. Now he’d lost both his master and the only other person he knew, his dog walker. Hopefully, someone would be found to look after him, but that wasn’t her concern. Not now. Her mind was unable to focus and kept flitting from one idea to the next. She had to maintain her concentration and come up with a damn plan, for the sake of her son.

 

She didn’t slow down until she neared the apartment building. She jogged up the steps and into the building. She stopped and waited. She peaked outside. No sign of the killer. Hopefully, she’d have a little time to work out a plan.

 

The youngest of four, her family usually helped her solve her problems, even helped her make decisions. Until she was thirteen and was left home alone with her mother, they had done everything for her.  She had finally realized she was responsible for her own life and needed to take control of her own decisions. It was slow work. When she was under stress she reverted to her engrained patterns of behavior, wanting someone else to take the responsibility. 

 

She sighed because  she not only had to fight this battle alone, but somehow, she had to make sure Hank was safe. If she contacted her family the killer might even track them down and use them to get to her.

 

Who knew what a cold-blooded killer might do to keep from getting caught? 

Halloween is celebrated in Canada on October 31. It is a day to mark the single night in the year when, according to old Celtic beliefs, spirits  and the dead can cross over into the world of the living. Some people hold parties and children may trick-or-treat in their neighborhood.

Halloween has Celtic origins. In pre-Christian times, many people believed that spirits from the underworld and ghosts of dead people could visit the  world of the living on the night of October 31. These spirits could harm the living or take them back to the underworld. To avoid this, people started dressing up as ghosts and spirits if they left their homes on October 31. They hoped that this would confuse the ghosts and spirits. Halloween was also a time, when spirits might give messages to people. In some areas, it was traditional for unmarried girls to poor molten lead into water. The shape that the lead took when it hardened was seen as a clue to the  professions of their future husbands. Halloween traditions were brought to Canada by Irish and Scottish immigrants. Some people put a lot of effort into decorating their homes, yards and drives. They may even construct life-size replica graveyards or dungeons and invite people from the neighborhood to view their creations or hold a themed party.  Other people may organize fancy dress parties for adults or children. Popular activities at parties include watching horror films and trying to make fellow guests jump in fright. Many children go out to play trick-or-treat. They dress up as ghosts, witches, skeletons or other characters and visit homes in their neighborhood. They ring doorbells and, when someone answers, they call out “trick-or-treat”. This means that they hope to receive a gift of candy or other snacks and that they are  threatening to play a trick if they do not get anything. Usually, they receive a treat and tricks are rarely carried out. There are special types of food associated with Halloween. These included candies in packets decorated with symbols of Halloween, toffee apples made by coating real apples with a boiled sugar solution, roasted corn, popcorn and pumpkin pie or bread. After several incidences of dangerous objects in apples  and other food, now the treats are usually something purchases and packaged. Halloween beer, which is made by adding pumpkin and spices to the mash before fermenting it, is also available in specialist stores. Children also take part in a long-standing Canadian tradition of “Trick-or-Treat for Unicef”. Pumpkin-carving contests, pumpkin art tours, a reading marathon,   and symbolic Walks for Water are just a few examples of the educational and fundraising activities schools and children develop to help provide thousands of children developing countries with basic quality education.  Do you have any special Halloween traditions? Do you decorate your house?

As a breast cancer survivor (three times) this month holds a special place for me. Almost everyone knows someone who has, or has had, breast cancer, or maybe it’s you and you’re a survivor. Do you “Run for the Cure?” Do you donate to Breast Cancer this month? No, I’m not hustling for donations, but through more research, more and more people survive. I’ve known several people who have been diagnosed with breast cancer. Many years ago, they didn’t survive Now diagnosis, treatment, and prognosis have improved thanks to research.

Two of my three diagnosis were discovered by a mammogram. (The other one was a feeling I had and told my family doctor, and he ordered a mammogram, so I guess all three were). I know there are pros and cons about mammograms. Pros- They do save lives. They are estimated to reduce cancer deaths by 15%. Cons – Some people will undergo treatment for no reason, because the identified cancer would never have grown. Women may experience psychological distress, anxiety and uncertainty for years because of an inaccurate result. This comes from a report at http s://medshadow.org/medshadow.blog/mammogram-pros-cons/   And some cancers are too aggressive and virulent to control, no matter how early they are picked-up.

Obviously, I recommend mammograms, at least women should be doing a monthly self breast check for any lumps or changes. Always remember to check the lymph nodes in the armpit. If you do have a mammogram and it shows abnormalities, they may do an ultrasound. Doctors may also use the ultrasound to do a fine wire biopsy of the area and send it to the lab for testing.  

There are several other types of biopsies that may be done. If the results show cancer cells, treatment is usually surgery. It may be a lumpectomy or a mastectomy. And may also include radiation, chemotherapy, or hormone therapy.

I found my recent experience rather amusing. (After two previous experiences you don’t get as concerned) I had my routine mammogram. Something showed up. I had an ultrasound. Not sure what it was so a fine needle biopsy was booked. I had the biopsy and the doctor at the time said it didn’t really look like cancer. It was very small. But if it was cancer, he said they had probably removed it all int the tissue sample. The lab said it was cancer and they booked a lumpectomy. The doctor did the lumpectomy and sent it off to the lab. It came back no sign of cancer. My doctor is most upset. Had she missed the spot? Was it somewhere else? I explained that they had probably got it with the biopsy. I don’t think she thought that was possible. People are still unsure and confused about this. I gather this is not common.  😊

If you have a comment or story to share, I’d love to hear it.  

Shiela Stewart is a paranormal suspense author with a writing history that stems back to her youth.  Always a dreamer, wondering if her stories would ever reach an audience, she was finally published in 2006 and hasn’t stopped since.  It is rare to find a stand-alone book as she prefers series stories. Her longest running series to date is her Darkness series, which is a vampire romance.

Her joy for scary suspense is evident in each of her books. She has had several accomplishments, including fighting for the top spot in the rankings with author Stephanie Myers, receiving glowing reviews as well as interviews on local television and reviews and interviews in The Romantic Times Magazine.

When not writing, Shiela spends her time with the love of her life, William, and their children and grandchildren. Her strong affection for animals is evident in the many cats she cares for.

Her favorite time of the day is at sunset.

Character Interview

Beverley: What’s your name?

C.J.: C.J. Dowling the 2nd . I was named after my grandfather.

Beverley: Where did you grow up?

C.J.: It takes place in current time but shifts back to early 1900’s.

Beverley: What’s your story/back story? Why would someone come up with a story about you?

C.J.: Why wouldn’t they? I’m smart, Charismatic, handsome—all joking aside, my story is incredibly fascinating. I was born with the ability to see and communicate with ghosts. I know, I can hear everyone snorting and laughing. I’ve received that reaction all my life. I don’t why I can see spirits, I just know I can’t avoid them. You’re not alone in thinking I’m crazy. My family did as well. So much so, they sent me to psychiatrists and even had me committed. You’ll have to read my story to find out why they believe me now.

Beverley: What’s your goal in this story?

C.J.: To put the dead to rest. I’ve been called to help put an end to a torturous spirit refusing to leave his house. He is not a nice man.

Beverley: What conflicts are you facing?

C.J.: I want to put an evil spirit to rest, he is determined to stick around. Let me tell you, it’s not easy.

Beverley: Do you have a plan for resolving them?

C.J.: Yes, I do. I have to find what is keeping the spirit tethered to the house. And, I have a secret weapon who helps me.

Beverley: Is there anything else you’d like us to know about you?

C.J.:  I’m very stubborn. Some might say it’s a flaw, but I disagree. I’m perfectionist, again, some might say it’s a flaw. I have a wicked and sometimes warped sense of humor. And I’m a lover. I’ll just leave it like that. J

Blurb from Secrets of the Dead:

Jessica Coltrane is a die-hard sceptic who believes that ghosts and paranormal activity are nothing more than a figment of an overactive imagination. That is until she finds herself locked inside a haunted house with the enigmatic paranormal investigator C.J. Dowling.

Born with the ability to see and speak to the dead, C.J. Dowling thought investigating a haunted house would be a job like many others. He’s prepared for anything—except smart and sexy Jessica.

Working together in close quarters, C.J. and Jessica discover it isn’t only negative tension between the two, but sexual as well. Giving into their desires seemed like a good idea at the time, until they wake and find the spirits thought otherwise. Trapped with the ghost of a child long forgotten, an amorous entity that is threatening Jessica, and a powder keg of a spine-tingling mystery that might just be better left buried.

Excerpt from Secrets of the Dead:

Something tickled her nose. Using her hand, she tried to swipe it away and felt the brush of hair against her knuckles. Planting her hand, she felt the warm flesh beneath her palm.

Recognition hit and woke her with an angry slap. Eyes shooting open, she sat up quickly and instantly regretted it when the room spun wildly around her. Laying back down, closing her eyes, she waited out the dizziness the hangover caused. Her mind raced to the night before.

The soft ache in her loins reminded her of what she’d done. Carefully opening her eyes, she turned her head to see a naked C.J. beside her.

“Oh, God.” She looked over his naked body, remembering how good it felt having him inside her. She hadn’t been that drunk that she couldn’t remember the event, and lord, what an event it had been. They had literally torn each other’s clothing off. She’d been an animal, which was so not like her.

What did they do now? Would they go on as they had been, sniping at each other, treat this as a one-night fling and move on? In truth, the guy irritated the hell out of her, yet he’d made her feel so incredible the night before. How was she supposed to respond to him now, after sharing something so intimate?

“Dowling,” she spoke quietly. “Dowling.” When he moaned, she slapped his chest. “Dowling!”

“Jesus.”

“Wake up.”

“I’m awake.” He looked at her with a smile. “Morning.” Then his eyes went wide. “Holy hell.” He bolted upright and jumped to his feet, nearly knocking her over. “Oh, my God.”

“What the hell?” The sofa stood on its end, two sitting chairs slammed up right against it, all pushed against the window. The coffee and end tables stood one on top of the other, in front of the fireplace.

Carefully, Jessie stood up, waiting out the dizziness. She had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. It looked like a hurricane had blown through. “How…”

“I need to check my equipment.” He flew off, still nude, and she got one hell of a look at his ass.

She saw her shirt by the fireplace, straps torn. She couldn’t exactly wear it in its condition. Spotting his shirt hanging over the couch, she grabbed it and put it on. It barely covered her, but would have to do for now.

“This is incredible. The meters went off the scale. The temperature recorded several degrees below freezing at one point. It didn’t last long, though, as it rose exponentially. And we slept through it all. Damn, I have never seen anything like this before. It’s phenomenal.”

“You’re naked, you know?”

“What?” He didn’t even look up.

“You’re naked.” She tossed him his jeans, hitting him square in the face.

Unaffected by it, he grabbed the jeans and slipped into them using his free hand.  It amused her to watch him shimmy into his tight jeans, jumping from one foot to the other. “The cameras!” He rushed to the video equipment as he did up his pants. “Do you know what this means?”

“That you were a busy boy last night.”

He looked at her, confused. “Beg pardon?”

“I don’t know how you managed it all alone, but I give you credit for a job well done.”

“You think I did all of this?”

“No, I know you did all of this. Boy, you’ll do anything to make me a believer.”

His eyes narrowed and his voice dipped an octave. “You think I did all of this just to make you believe there are ghosts here?”

 “Well…yeah.”

“Fine.” Walking to her, he grabbed her arm and led her to the camera.

“Let go of me.”

“Not until you see this.” Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her to face the monitor attached to one of the cameras. “Watch.” He pressed play.

Folding her arms across her chest, Jessie glared at the screen. He’d recorded them having sex.

“Oh my God, you taped us making out? How could you?”

“I have my cameras set on timers that begin taping on their own. I didn’t know we were going to go at it like rabbits last night. Watch.”

“You will erase those tapes,” she insisted, then grunted when he turned her face back to the monitor. “What the hell?”

“Keep watching.”

She couldn’t pry her eyes away if she tried. The furniture lifted in the air, spun around wildly before they slammed in front of the fireplace and window. “Oh my god!”

“My sentiments exactly. I need to check the rest of the house.” He left her mesmerized in front of the TV.

Buy Links for Secrets of the Dead

Apple Books.: https://books.apple.com/us/book/seducing-the-darkness/id1050480128

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Shiela-Stewart/e/B002BLN95E%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/seducing-the-darkness-shiela-stewart/1014485332?ean=2940152679007

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/secrets-of-the-dead-17

Decadent Publishing:  http://decadentpublishing.com/secrets-of-the-dead/

Social Media Links:

Website: www.shielastewart.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shiela.stewart

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ShielaSue  

Alice lives in London, UK, with her husband and son. By day she’s a compliance manager for a pharmaceutical company. By night she writes fantasy romance about shape-shifting mermen, water monsters and time-traveling witches. Her first book, “A Merman’s Choice,” was published in January 2019. It is the first book in the Sea of Love fantasy romance series, inspired by the landscapes and legends of Brittany and Wales. The second and third books, “Music for a Merman,” and “Mermaids Marry in Green,” are out now. Alice loves reading and writing stories, and sharing them with anyone who’s interested!

Character Interview:

Beverley: What’s your name? 

Bryony: Bryony Benetynn

Beverley: Where did you grow up?

Bryony: On the Morvann Islands, a remote archipelago off the coast of Wales, the homeland of my people, the shifter merfolk.

Beverley: During what time period does your story take place?

Bryony: Over two days and one night, in Las Vegas.

Beverley: What’s your story/back story? Why would someone come up with a story about you?

Bryony: I think I’m the first openly gay mermaid in the Morvann Islands. When I fell in love with a sexy witch, Maia, my family couldn’t accept that relationship. Maia and I decided to run off to Las Vegas, where we could live and love in peace. My author wanted to tell my story for the BVS collection of LGBTQIA+ romance stories, “Rainbow Desire”.

Beverley: What’s your goal in this story?

Bryony: My goal is to make my girlfriend Maia happy. But I am worried that she is hiding something from me – or perhaps that she is getting bored of a life among ordinary humans… or even bored with me.

Beverley: What conflicts are you facing?

Bryony: When Maia’s ex, the hot warlock Ariel, turns up, I discover the truth about Maia’s hurried flight from London, and the providential casino win that enabled us to buy our house in Vegas. Also, I can’t help being attracted to Ariel… which of course creates a conflict with Maia.

Beverley: Do you have a plan for resolving them?

Bryony: I don’t have time to come up with a plan… Maia turns up and the afternoon takes a turn for the better…

Beverley: Is there anything else you’d like us to know about you?

Bryony: I work at the Gran Mar hotel. I take part in their mermaid show. I’m the only real mermaid in the tank!

Blurb for Rainbow Desire

Rainbow Desire is a celebration of life and love in its kaleidoscope of exotic rainbow colours. The stories within the book also reflect its vibrant shades of romance from light to dark. I hope you will enjoy the wealth of narratives in this glorious LGBTQ+ anthology.

Blurb for Love Comes in Many Shapes

Bryony, a shifter mermaid, has run away with sexy witch Maia, and now they’re living the dream in Las Vegas. But Maia is hiding a secret. When her ex, a super-hot warlock, turns up, Bryony can’t fight her attraction to him. Will she choose him? Or Maia? Or both?

Excerpt from Rainbow Desire

Unlike the other mermaids, Bryony had her own changing room. She’d insisted on it as part of her contract with the hotel. It was little more than a broom cupboard, but she could close the door, and that was all that mattered. No one could see her change into her aquatic shape. No one could discover that, unlike the girls in swimsuits giggling outside, she was the real deal. A shape shifting mermaid from the Morvann Islands in Wales.

She checked the clock on the wall. Twenty-five minutes to go. Damn, she’d cut it a bit fine. She kicked off her sandals and peeled off her shorts and T-shirt. Her skin was darkening, turning a pearly grey, and thickening. She wiggled her fingers and toes, as if that would make the webs grow faster. She wished there was a way to accelerate the shifting process. Perhaps she’d ask Maia to do some research. One of the books of spells she’d brought from London might contain the answer.

A rap on the door. “Ten minutes!” the stage manager called out.

“Coming!” Bryony could feel her tail pushing at last through her buttocks. Her curly brown hair retracted into her skull. Her nose was flattening, leaving only a single nostril that she could close at will.

Finally, she was ready. She opened the door. The other mermaids were already lining up, shuffling forward on their fake fish tails. Bryony padded along the corridor on her webbed feet to join the back of the queue.

“Off you go, ladies.” The stage manager lifted the black curtain, revealing the ladder that climbed the side of the tank. The lights were dimmed, to hide their entrance. One by one the fake mermaids shimmered up the rungs of metal and dived into the aquarium. Oohs and aahs rose from the invisible audience in the theatre.

Bryony grabbed the ladder and made her ascent, a lot slower than her colleagues. Webbed hands and feet were not designed for climbing. At last she made it to the top and plunged headlong into the cool water.

The lights brightened. A stunned silence greeted her. She was used to it. She didn’t match most people’s idea of a mermaid. She swam to the bottom of the aquarium and pressed her face to the glass.

The vast room was full of people, lined up on the rows of seats, or around tables in the bar area. And Maia sat in the front row, less than a yard away. A huge smile lit up her lovely face. Her blue eyes sparkled. “Now that’s the best mermaid I’ve ever seen!” she said in a loud voice.

She did this every night. “We French call it la claque, ma cherie,” she’d said. “Friends posing as theatre goers, who clap and cheer to encourage the rest of the audience.”

The warm glow in Bryony’s chest spread through her limbs. Maia always had her back. She was lover, best friend, and cheerleader rolled into one. “My girl,” Bryony whistled, in the language of the merfolk, and blew her a kiss.

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Augustina Van Hoven was born in The Netherlands and currently resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and pets.   She is an avid reader of romance, science fiction and fantasy.   When she’s not writing she likes to work in her garden or in the winter months crochet and knit on her knitting machines.  

Character Interview

Beverley: What’s your name?

Nicholas: My name is Nicholas Harwood

Beverley: Where did you grow up? 

Nicholas: I was born and raised in Dante’s Hallow, Maine.

Beverley: During what time period does your story take place?

Nicholas: This story takes place around All Hallows Eve in 1879.

Beverley: What’s your story/back story?

     Nicholas: I come from a long line of apothecaries. My grandfather moved the family here from the old country. We have always understood the truth about the supernatural and we have taken on the task of protecting others from the things that go bump in the night.

Beverley: Why would someone come up with a story about you?

Nicholas: It’s not just a story about me. It’s a story about what evils are really out there and the good people who are willing stand up against it and protect others who can’t protect themselves.

Beverley: What’s your goal in this story?

      Nicholas: I’m trying to keep the dead quiet during All Hallows Eve, but I’m warned by one of them that a great evil is coming and I have to stop it.

  Beverley: W hat conflicts are you facing?

Nicholas: There are witches in town who are trying to raise a dead coven member. I have to stop that from happening, but I need help.

  Beverley: Do you have a plan for resolving them?

  Beverley: Do you have a plan for resolving them?

Nicholas: Not really, what’s coming is beyond my skills. Fortunately, there are others who are willing to help.

Beverley: Is there anything else you’d like us to know about you?

Nicholas: I have the ability to see and speak with the dead.

Blurb for Harbinger

On All Hallows’ Eve, the barrier between the living and the dead is thinnest.

Nicholas Harwood has inherited an unusual job—keeping the dead quiet. For several nights before All Hallows’ Eve, he pours a potion derived from a family recipe on the graves of the late residents of Dante’s Hollow to keep the dead from walking. So far, he’s been successful. But something—in addition to snow—is in the wind, and he can’t stop it alone. Nicholas and his unlikely group of companions—a druid sorcerer, a witch, and a ghost or two—are locked in a power struggle with rogue supernatural powers intent on unleashing great evil. 

Excerpt for Harbinger

“Here, Grandpa Sullivan, this should keep you calm.” Nicholas Harwood filled the cap of the old whiskey bottle with his potion and poured it over Grandpa Sullivan’s grave. He grabbed the brim of his hat and tilted his head toward the stone marker before moving on to the next.

In a few days, it would be All Hallows’ Eve, when the barrier between the living and the dead is at its thinnest, and spirits could escape their resting places and wander freely among the living. The potion, an old family recipe handed down from father to son, helped keep them asleep. Nick’s grandfather brought it with him from the old country; his father used it, and now the task of quieting the dead fell to him.

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