On the Broomstick: NNP

#paranormal #witches #salem #pnr #romance #preorder #giveaway #limitedtime

Five Favorite Things:

1. Being Lazy - Having no pressing appointment, no rush jobs, just sitting back and having a coffee

2. My medication - Not the happiest thing, but without it, I really wouldn't be here.

3. My husband - When the medication doesn't work, he does.

4. My home - It's not as clean as it could be, and the garden and lawn are overgrown, and it needs a few renos, but really, I love my house and my neighbourhood.

5. My daughter - She drives me insane, but I would do anything for her.

Summer Parker has moved to Salem, into her great-grandmother's house. Once there, she is plagued by the sensation of someone watching her. Added to that, she is having strange dreams about her ancestor, Mark Parker, who was one of Salem’s witches. Her human roommates remove most of the eeriness of her predicament, but the intangible roomie is making himself at home too. After a close call, the identity of her resident ghost is revealed. But if Geoffrey is the ghost, does that make her Mary Parker? One thing is certain, Geoffrey is as determined to protect her. WARNING: Suicide Trigger.

Although classic, the house had been maintained and renovated over the years, so it looked quaint, but had central heating, hot water on demand, and proper outlets in all the walls. There was even an Ethernet outlet in the sitting room under an old writing desk that had been converted for a keyboard tray and monitor.

“Sweet.” Summer ran her hand over the warm brown wood, polished to shine. She had opted not to keep the cleaners, saving a few pennies by keeping house herself. It wasn’t an option to normal renters. The cleaning crew could alert the management company of problem tenants before much damage could be done.

Summer shivered with a chill that was likely the result of rain water. Her hair, where it had escaped her hood, dripped. She shrugged off the slicker and left it with the boots, then took her tote and suitcase up the stairs. Creaks accompanied her climbing, and that sound echoed as well. She would have to set up a portable stereo or something. The place was too creepy with no one in it. There were four bedrooms in total—two tiny, one fairly large and a master suite, which she claimed.

She snorted at the thought. It had a sink attached. Not even a toilet. Not really a suite. It was the largest bedroom, though, and would give her somewhere to brush her teeth and fix her hair once her roommates arrived.

Flopping on the bed, she looked up at the plaster ceiling and saw a myriad of tiny cracks. Was that a bad thing? Would pieces of it start falling on her? Standing on the duvet in damp socks, she stretched to see it better.

“Ew.” They weren’t cracks but strings of cobwebs, tons of them. She couldn’t reach, but she would be back with a broom before sleeping. And she might not be able to sleep even then.

She would head out for food—eat out tonight or get groceries for tomorrow—but there was one more thing to do before that. Her tablet rested in her tote bag, and she sent a message to Mom, Aunt Marge, and Della, her best friend from Montreal. They would all want to know that she arrived safely, that the house was in great shape—she didn’t mention the cobwebs, the cleaners hadn’t been in since the last renter left—and she was excited to start class in a couple of days.

Formalities done, she looked out the window into the grey September evening and considered ordering in pizza. It made more sense to get groceries, though. After all, she would need breakfast as well. Judging the rain, she wondered if it was worth waiting for it to pass.

She spun around, the overwhelming sense of someone watching her coming from the closet. That made no sense. She opened the doors wide, revealing a bare bar with several hangers that rattled as air swept out.

Leaning in, Summer looked left and right, examining the corners. Maybe it was a mouse. Nope.

She hopped down the stairs and put on her jacket. Suddenly groceries and rain seemed better than staying where she was. Had Aunt Marge said anything about high turnover, or infestations, or anything? She set a quick pace and tried to recall, but nothing came to mind. The turnover was high, but that was just because students only stayed for a few years. Still, she would email Marge tonight.

When she returned with the groceries, her arms aching slightly from the weight of them, the eerie feeling was gone. Relieved, she took her time putting away milk, bread, cereal, and everything else. The deli sandwich came last and she took her time eating it.

Climbing the stairs, she yawned. It had been a long trip and she hoped for a less grey day tomorrow.

When she was curling up in bed, the sensation of being watched returned. “Who’s there?” she asked, feeling stupid. Who was going to answer her?

There was no reply, but her bedroom door squeaked on its hinge, swinging in slightly. She closed her eyes and told herself it was her imagination. One thing was certain, she would be thrilled when her roommates arrived. This place was too empty, just like the large bed, filled with only herself.

Angelica Dawson, bestselling Naughty Nights Press author, has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Angelica is a wife, mother and environmental consultant. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards -- mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires.

Links:

Blog: http://angelicadawson.blogspot.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/angelicadawson

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Tuesday, September 6, 2016

A Wicked Halloween Blog Tour and Giveaway: Sherri Lea Morgan with Salem's Embrace

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Five favorites:

Five Favorite Things:

1. The Ghost Walk tour in Edinburgh, Scotland I went on three years ago.

2. Halloween (the movie)

3. Haunted Houses

4. Ghost Walk Tours

5. Roller-coaster rides

Solitary witch Meghan Nightshade is torn between hiding inside her self-made company in Atlanta and returning to stay in her hometown of Salem. One represents new beginnings, and the other her past. When an illness forces her to return to Salem for a short time, she realizes there are forgotten memories among the magic and nothing was the same as she remembered. Between preparing for the upcoming Halloween traditions and falling for the sexy Eathan Callaghan, Meghan is pulled back into the world of magic, covens, and witchcraft. Is she strong enough now to battle for the freedom of Eathan’s innocent sister, or will it cost her too much, and send her running back to the safety of Atlanta?

“I have a feeling not much surprises you, Eathan Callaghan.” Again, his earthy smell called to her. Her body trembled.

“That’s true. Living here for the past ten years has taught me a lot of things.” He squeezed her elbow. “Including the fact that there are many things that cannot, or rather, will not be explained through science. I’ve even had the honor of exploring Nathaniel’s House of the Seven Gables alone. The proprietor owed me a favor. It was…interesting.”

Meghan paused and stared at him. “You believe in magic and ghosts and such?”

“Of course I do. You can’t live in Salem and not believe there’s something different out there.” He grinned. “I’ve taken Karen to lunch at Pickering Wharf more than once.”

I live outside of Atlanta, GA. When not working my day job, I am either working on a manuscript, or furiously jotting notes for future stories. If time permits, I spend time with my daughter, twin sister and two cats and two dogs. Two years I fulfilled a life long dream of travelling to England. My sister and daughter joined me and we spent one week in London and one week in Scotland. I loved it so much! One day, I'll be going back. My son returned home after serving four years with the United States Marines. I missed him and am happily spending time together. A few years ago, I was invited to guest blog about my adventures with two great writers. It was so much fun, thatI have created a blog for this site and am working on filling it.

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Monday, September 5, 2016

A Wicked Halloween Blog Tour and Giveaway: Elizabeth A. Reeves with Midnight at the Salem Cafe

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Five favorites:

Favorite Magical Creature/being: Dragons. It's always going to be dragons.

Favorite Book: Passage by Connie Willis (this changes almost daily).

Favorite Holiday: Thanksgiving. It's all about family and food for me, what could be better?

Favorite Sport: Pretty much anything Equestrian. For watching, nothing can be quite as exciting as Eventing. As far as participating... I'm not quite that brave. I do enjoy riding, though.

Favorite Fairy Tale: Beauty and the Beast. I love that it has historical origins in truth. And it's just a lovely idea, all around.

Witness to her own mother's murder, Lena Scott long ago gave up any hope that she would be able to lead a normal, healthy life. She also thought that she'd left Salem, and that night, behind. She was never going to look back. But, looking back may be the key to more than just that mysterious Halloween night. And her home, her life, and even her work at the Salem Cafe are more intertwined than she ever imagined.

And the past is full of more secrets than Lena could ever have imagined. Everything she believed about herself, everything she knew about herself… all of that comes into question on yet another dark, Salem Halloween night.

As often happened, when the world felt a little festive, Lena felt more alone than usual. She was an outsider to the laughter and teasing that marked off the hours among the rest of the staff. Oh, she smiled, and she even spoke a few times, but it was always with a sense that she didn’t belong.

She never had quite fit.

Her required break was punctuated by a mug of the best hot chocolate in the world—the menu even said so—and a thin slice of apple pie.

It was a risky move. Apple pie always made her think about Gran. Lena closed her eyes against the warmth of cinnamon, cooled by the gentle kiss of vanilla from the ice cream Luisa made in the big machine in the back. There was nothing fancy about it—no frills at all.

But it was perfect.

Lena put her fork down after one bite. A second one, she thought, could never be as good as that first taste.

It was starting to get late. Fewer customers came through the door, despite the well-lit sign saying that they’d be open all night for Halloween.

“It’s starting to really come down out there,” a man told her, as she handed him and his wife their menus.

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “I didn’t even realize that it was snowing.”

“If it was raining, I’d say it was raining cats and dogs,” the woman said with a laugh. “I don’t know what you say for that kind of snow.”

“Falling like goose down,” Lena heard her own voice say. The words startled her. She couldn’t remember having heard them before, and yet, she had a feeling that they were just right.

“Charming,” the woman said, widening her eyes. “What a lovely image.”

Obviously the woman had never met geese, Lena thought wryly. In her limited experience, they were rarely lovely.

She did take the time, though, to stand at the door and watch the snow fall. It really was coming down, in great, fluffy flakes.

Lena laughed softly. It really did look like feathers falling out of the sky.

“Look at that,” Martin said, turned in his seat to watch the snow come down. “That’s a real treat for Halloween—or is Old Mother Nature playing some tricks on us all?” He laughed. “Weather like this always gets the ghosts thumping around, doesn’t it, Luisa?” He turned his head towards where she stood, silent for once.

“You hush,” she said.

“Don’t pretend that you’ve never seen him,” Martin teased. “You and I both know that you did. You can’t deny it.”

“Saw who?” Lena asked, despite the frisson of goosebumps crawling spider-like up her back.

Martin blinked at her in surprise. “I keep forgetting that you didn’t grow up around these parts.”

“Stuff and nonsense,” Luisa huffed. “Lena doesn’t want to listen to your ghost stories.”

“We do.” The woman and her husband looked to Martin with eager expression. “It’s the perfect weather for a ghost story. Is it a local ghost?”

“He lives about half a block down, that way,” Martin waved his hand absently. “But, you can see him walking down the street, sometimes at night. Especially when it has been snowing. You know he’s a ghost because he’s dressed in stockings and breeches—and a three-cornered hat—you know, the kind men wore in the early eighteenth century.”

“So, a ghost unrelated to the witch trials?” The woman sounded almost disappointed.

Martin laughed. “Everything around here ends up pointing to the witch trials, one way or another. Some people say that this man had an ancestor that had been cursed by one of the witches. Others say that he was descended from a witch. One this is very sure, though—he was terribly unlucky in love.”

The woman made a sighing sound. Lena made a face to herself. She’d never understood what was romantic about tragedy. Despite herself, she wanted to listen to this story. Ignoring, of course, the fact that Martin had waved his hand in the direction of her own, historical monument of a house.

“This used to be the outskirts of town,” Martin said, warming to his story. His face was lit up with excitement that, for once, he had an audience that wanted to hear what he had to say. “Our ghost was a prosperous man in these parts, and known to be a quiet gentleman. He kept to himself, so of course there were gossips who said that he was surly and thought too well of himself. That he was too proud to marry a local girl.”

How could Martin possibly know such a thing? Lena wondered, but she gave in to the magic of the story-telling.

“The stories agree that he was a handsome man. You thought he was handsome, when you saw him, didn’t you, Luisa?”

The chef made a huffing sound, but made no move to go back to the kitchen.

“So, he was handsome and wealthy, and could have married any girl in these parts just for the asking, but he never seemed interested in any of them. Not until a girl showed up at his door, shivering with the cold on a night just like this.” Martin knew he had his listeners hooked now. He spoke softly, forcing them to lean closer and hold their breaths to be able to hear. “No one knew anything about her. Not who her people were, not where she had come from. It was love at first sight, they say. He built up his house as a kind of shrine to her, and to their love. They married and gossip said that they were expecting their first child. But, it wasn’t to last.”

Lena heard the woman at the table sigh again, this time regretfully. “What happened?”

“The girl disappeared,” Martin said. “The records don’t say how or why—they didn’t in those days, you know. But, the legend that my grandfather learned from his grandfather, and passed down to me, was that she ran away from him. No one ever saw her again.”

Gasps of sympathetic horror filled the room.

“He didn’t live long after she vanished,” Martin continued, ignoring the shocked faces surrounding his casual mention of murder. “It might have been an accident, but again it might have not. He was killed in a fall off of that big, proud stallion of his, while he was out searching for his lost love. That’s why he still walks to this day. They say that he’s looking for her still… unable to rest until he finds her again.”

Lena rubbed her icy fingers together. The chill had nothing to do with the snow outside and everything to do with the ghost story Martin was reciting.

“What was her name?” The woman asked, her hands clasped together. “What was his name?”

“His name was Edward Pryce,” Martin said. “As for the girl… the only name we have for her is ‘Mellie’.”

Elizabeth A Reeves is a socially-phobic introvert with a rich fantasy life. While physically she may be a mother to five boys (and a wife to one more), mentally she is roaming universes and planes of existence known only to her.

She tries to capture some of these for other book-lovers like her to enjoy.

Find her on Facebook

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Tuesday, August 30, 2016

A Wicked Halloween Blog Tour and Giveaway: Gwen Knight and A Touch of Soul

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A Wicked Halloween ~ 13 **BRAND NEW & EXCLUSIVE** paranormal romance tales that will thrill and chill you just in time for All Hallow's Eve.

Preorder for only #99cent today!

Visit the page: A Wicked Halloween

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