At the end of Sinbad's Last Voyage, it certainly looked as if our hero was done for. Stricken with mesothelioma asbestosis after being unjustly imprisoned for twelve years in the Toxic Zone (formerly an asbestos waste dump in the Buffalo Commons), Sinbad sh'en Singh at last weakened and asked his beloved Andi to marry him, though their time together would be very brief. Only after giving birth to his son did she agree, and the half-Felidan smuggler went on his last run, promising to "retire" from the Brotherhood of St. Dismas and become an Abider as soon as he came back.

Sinbad's Wife, the second novel in the Adventures of Sinbad series, opens at an unlikely moment--Sinbad's sh'en Singh's Best Man bemoaning the fact that he's once again lost the woman he loves to an alien!

Since the age of five, Eli Nighthorse has loved Andrea Talltrees. He lost her to Tran, thought he was getting a second chance when Andi returned home alone, then saw his hopes dashed to pieces when the feline smuggler reappeared in her life. Now--to add insult to injury--he's been asked to be Best Man at her wedding!

During the knock-down verbal battle of their reconciliation--interrupted by the birth of son Allan--and Andi's meek agreement afterward to marry him, Sin thinks everything is fine. After his final Run and subsequent resignation from the Brotherhood of St. Dismas, however, and his return to the farm to exchange his Winchester handrifle for a pitchfork, Andi does an about face. Now, she doesn't want to get married...no how...not never!

Aware that her own people are shunning her for not only having a child out of wedlock but actually living with the father without marrying him, Sin can't understand her attitude. After all it's not like he doesn't want to marry her--for six months, he's asked her at least once a day and each time, she refuses. He knows everyone blames him, including Eli, who at this point isn't yet his friend, but doesn't bother to correct that assumption because even he can't figure out the reason. Sin's getting sicker and sicker and all he wants before it's too late is to get Andi legally wed and give his son the safety of legitimacy, something he never had, since his own parents' marriage was never recognized by the Federation.

With the Grim Reaper breathing down his neck, Sin devises a desperate plan to get Andi to the church on time...something totally crazy, but the only thing he can think of that will get his stubborn little Terran to say "I do!" before they're saying "Dust to dust, ashes to ashes" over him!

THE EXCERPT:

Upstairs, Andi was taking a shower.
As she turned off the water and stepped out of the stall, she walked directly into a large soft towel which Sin was holding in front of him. Before she realized it, she was enveloped in both the towel and Sin's arms and quickly lifted off the floor and carried to the bed.
Carefully unwrapping the towel from around her, he sat beside her on the bed, drying and kissing each little bit of pale skin as it was uncovered. Andi shivered and put her arms around his neck, pulling his body down to rest against hers.
"Do you love me, Andi?" He kissed her forehead.
She broke off in the middle of a little moan to gasp, "Of course I do, Sin!"
Another kiss, on her throat. He rubbed his cheek against hers. "Say it."
Obediently, she whispered, "I love you, Sin," and entwined the heavy hair in her hands, holding him immobile as she brushed her own lips against his chest.
"Can't live without me?" he persisted, raising himself to stare into her eyes.
"What kind of question is that?" she asked. "You know I can't!" and was startled when he pulled away, rolling over to his side of the bed.
"Good! Because you're going to get a chance to prove it!" There was grim satisfaction in the gravelly voice.
"What do you mean?" Andi put a hand on his shoulder, attempting to pull him back to her.
It was gently but firmly removed.
"I mean--what you just got is all you're getting. Until we settle a few things!" Sin sat up.
For the first time, Andi realize that he was still fully dressed, only his shirt unbuttoned and pulled out of his jeans.
"What do--"
"I never told you why I hated Terran females, did I?" As she shook her head, frowning and wondering what that had to do with his making love to her, he went on, "Because they used me, Andi. Took the pleasure my body could give them but gave me none in return. I was terribly ignorant of any kind of female in those days but it didn't take me long to figure it out!"
Sighing, he brushed the tousled damp hair back from her forehead.
"And now, it looks as if you're doing the same thing." For a moment, the green eyes were frighteningly grave. "Do you really love me, Andi? Or just the physical satisfaction I can give you?"
"I-I...you know I love you!"
"Do I? You won't marry me. You can't even give me a good reason why you won't! I know I love you. Gods knows I must, to put up with that temper of yours and some of the crazy things you've done!"
"Crazy things?" Andi exclaimed. "What crazy things?"
"Think back to the way you acted the night Allan was born and ask me that again!
You say you love me," Sin went on. "Well, you're going to get a chance to prove it! Let's see if our relationship can survive outside this room!" He stood up and walked to the door.
"Where are you going?" Her voice started to tremble.
"Out!" One hand on the doorknob, he looked back. "You told me I could come and go as I pleased. Remember? As long as I came back?"
When he smiled, it was gentle, almost loving.
"Well, I'm going to do just that. I'm going out, but don't worry, I'll be back. Later."
"But what about--" Her voice dropped slightly. "Aren't you going to finish making love to me?"
"Don't you understand?" His voice was patient. "I have finished! From now on, we won't touch until you prove it's me you love and not what I do to you!"
Sin opened the door and went through it.
"Don't wait up!"

But wait up Andi does...night after night after night....

SINBAD'S WIFE, the second novel in the ADVENTURES OF SINBAD, is scheduled for released by Double Dragon Publications this summer.

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world. Oscar Wilde

One day left for my romantic suspense, FRENCH PERIL, to be released by Cerridwen Press. Tomorrow, tomorrow…

CONTEST: I am running a contest on my blog http://www.monarisk.blogspot.com/. Just read my blogs, blurb, excerpts and leave a comment. Be my friend and reader. On Saturday, I will pull the names of three persons from the comments on the blogs of this week. Prizes: an onyx ring, adjustable to any finger, from Corfu, Greece. A golden bracelet coated with blue and green enamel from Corsica and a ladybug brooch with red and white rhinestones from Venice, Italy. I will post pictures tomorrow.

Now back to FRENCH PERIL. Instead of an excerpt I will let the characters introduce themselves:
Characters’ Introduction:
Cheryl Stewart: I’m worried about my mentor, Professor Howard. He went to lunch with a prospective graduate student, a man from Malaysia, but became sick during the lunch and was rushed to the hospital for food poisoning or heart attack.
Professor Howard asked me to go to France on his behalf and help a French count with the restoration of a chapel and the search for a valuable statue that had been missing since World War II.
What could be more exciting than spending a couple months working in the plush Loire Valley, in France? I will have to live in the count’s chateau. The same count I saw at Harvard three years ago. The handsome playboy was so busy entertaining gorgeous women he didn’t give me the time of the day back then. I bet he won’t remember me.

François de Valroux: I am searching for an invaluable statue of the Virgin Mary that used to adorn the chapel of my chateau. The statue disappeared during the war bombardment. Was it destroyed? Did my grandfather hide it?
I have been impatiently waiting for Professor Howard who did a lot of research on the subject. I can’t believe he skipped our appointment and sent his graduate student. On the other hand, Cheryl is such a lovely young woman I can’t say I am too disappointed. Between you and me, I can’t resist a pretty woman. What can I say, it’s in my genes. I come from a long line of glorious adulterers and fabulous lovers.
When the Boston Hospital calls to announce Cheryl’s mentor died, I do my best to console her with a hug and a kiss, and pledge to protect her. It’s my pleasure. Huh…I mean my duty.
For her own safety, I ask her to keep the search for my statue secret from the five other students training on the chapel reconstruction.

Edith Blaise: I consider myself François’ current girlfriend. I want him badly but I also have a weakness for his title, his fortune, his chateau and its treasures. I won’t let anyone interfere with my goal of becoming the next Countess of Valroux. Certainly not, the American student, a nerd who lives in a pair of blue jeans and finds her happiness in old stones and computers.

Adriaan Van Deem: I come from Amsterdam. I’m studying archeology and I can’t resist the appeal of old stones. Especially if they have a high monetary value. It wouldn’t hurt to befriend the American student who seems to know a lot about the missing statue.

Juan-Pablo Rodriguez: My correct title is Don Juan-Pablo. I hail from the Universidad de Madrid and I am preparing a doctorate in the history of Romanesque churches. I’m a gallant man who always compliments a beautiful woman. Of course, I also like artistic treasures.

Roberto Cantari: I live in Milan, but I was born in Sicily. Women love my dark looks and I love women. People often ask me if I have mafia blood in my veins. Who knows? My nonna raised me and prays all the time that I remain an honest man. I respect my nonno, the most powerful and richest man in Palerma. I would do anything to please my grandparents. Anything…

Chuck Minho: I was born in London. I am a quiet man who doesn’t talk much, but I don’t miss anything going on around me. I don’t like the looks the American girl gives me. Dirty looks. As if she suspects me of killing someone, just because I look Chinese.

Karl Boderman: I’m studying art, painting and sculpting at the University of Berlin. I can’t believe the show these young studs put when a pretty face shows up. I don’t trust any of them. If you want my opinion, I don’t think they are who they say they are. But then…I’m not too.

Bernard: I am the old butler. I was raised in the chateau. My father served François’ grandfather. I love François as if he was my own son and I want to see him married with a good French woman. Mademoiselle Edith seems to love him. She’s always visiting and staying in the chateau, in the room next to his. But I think François is attracted to the American student. He asked me to put her in the room next to him, on the other side. I don’t like that. François sandwiched between the women’s rooms. I don’t like it at all. Especially that the rooms in this old chateau have secret communication doors.
My fondest dream is to find the statue and put it back on the altar of the reconstructed chapel. But someone hit me in the dark and asked me questions about the statue.

Cheryl: I pledge to go after Professor Howard’s killer and find the statue to honor my mentor’s memory. Things would be easier if I wasn’t so attracted to François.

François: Cheryl is careless and exposing herself to danger all the time. I’m constantly worried about her. She has turned my life upside down with her determination and bubbly laughter. I’m ready to give up the search for the statue to ensure Cheryl’s safety, but she won’t let me.
Together we need to find out:
Who poisoned Professor Howard?
Who hit Bernard?
Who broke into Cheryl’s room?
Where is the statue?
Why am I so jealous when the students flirt with Cheryl?

This might sound like a strange blog topic for a writer’s blog, but I discovered this recently in connection with my work and I was shocked that I’d never heard of the risk before. I decided I’d share with you in the hope it might help someone in the future.

Sometimes when I stand in line for a long time without moving much, apart from getting bored and frustrated, I start to feel lightheaded and shaky, even break out in a sweat and suffer nausea. These are the first symptoms of suspension trauma. Not that I’m ‘suspended’ when I’m lining up, of course, but my body is reacting in the same way as if I were, because I’m upright and motionless for so long.

Suspension trauma is the physiological response of the body to being held motionless in an upright position for too long. The blood starts to pool in the legs because the leg muscles aren’t working—contracting and relaxing—to help pump the blood back up the legs to the torso. This leads to lack of blood in the head, which can cause you to faint. If you are standing in line at the bank, fainting to the floor might be embarrassing, but it serves the purpose of getting the body in a horizontal position so blood can flow from the legs back into the body and head and all is well.

The problem becomes serious if you are restrained in an upright position and not moving your legs. Examples of this are some sports, such as parachuting, or hanging while climbing, or for workers hanging in a harness, either while working, or in a safety harness if they fall from a building. The same physiological effect threatens injured people on a stretcher who have to be carried vertically to move them from the scene of an accident.

If someone had asked me what ill effects a person would suffer if left hanging in a harness, I’d have guessed that after an hour or more might they might have deadness in the limbs from lack of movement, or cramps. The reality is far more serious and frightening. The timing varies from person to person, but in general, according to the experts, anyone hanging in a harness or forced to remain upright and unmoving for longer than five minutes is liable to faint from lack of blood to the brain. Things then get worse fast. If someone loses consciousness for this reason, unless the person is rescued within ten to fifteen minutes they will die.

Shocking as this is, the solution is simple. For anyone likely to be in this situation, they should be equipped with a harness that allows them to have their thighs horizontal, in other words, in a sitting position. That’s why, when you see climbers taking a break, their harnesses often allow them to sit back, rather than leave the legs dangling. It’s also safe to be hanging as long as you are active. All the while climbers are climbing, pushing with their legs against the rock face and working, the activity of the leg muscles keeps the blood flowing back up the legs and prevents any problems. Usually a parachute jump doesn’t last long enough to cause a problem—unless you are hung up in a tree.

Once someone is rescued, the danger isn’t over. If they have been hanging for more than a few minutes there is another problem to contend with--reflow syndrome. This happens because the blood that’s been trapped in the legs is filled with toxins from the muscles and all the oxygen normally carried in the blood has been used. If this is allowed to flow back into the body, this can lead to death. The casualty should be kept in a sitting position and not allowed to lie flat until they reach the hospital and receive professional medical attention.

For more information, check out this website:
http://www.suspensiontrauma.info/

My name is Cassay, and I believe in honesty, so I want to say right up front--I'm that vile creature of civilization...a vestie. (To the ignorant, that's street slang for transvestite.) OK, those of you out there who are summarily outraged now have my permission to grab your coats and leave! The ones remaining are the more tolerant, I imagine, and actually want to know about my relationship with Sinbad sh'en Singh.

In the first place, we didn't have a relationship. I met him only once and briefly, but in that short time, I saw that he was a person of integrity, the kind of man who'll go into danger for a friend, so when the time came, I did that for him. I'm not the most socially-acceptable as you've already surmised and my background's not the most savory. My mother was a Social Worker (and that's not the same as that old government job dealing with Public Welfare). She died when I was eight and I inherited her street corner, made a fairly good living at it until one of my "clients" beat me and left me for dead. One of Prince Ludsa's men found me, took me to him, and he had his own physicians treat me and when I was well, asked me to stay with him. Whatever else Ludsa is--and there are a great many people who believe the galaxy would be a safer place without him--he's been good to me and I'm grateful to him. After all, being hereditary Prince of Vercengetorix-2 and the Crime Lord for that quadrant of the Galaxy (so powerful even the Brotherhood of St. Dismas hesitates to cross him) isn't a position that gains one a following of close friends!

Sinbad is one of the people who'd like to put Ludsa in the family crypt. The Prince ordered the murder of his two best friends for attempting to rob him during one of his bashes, and ordered Sin killed, too, though he had no idea what they were up to It was only natural for Sin to swear revenge. When he came to Vercengetorix-2 with that pretty little woman, I was certain he was going to try to kill Ludsa, but all he wanted was information--about Andi's husband. I like Andi. She's tolerant, but then she's a Natural and they believe in the equality of all species. That once got them in Big Trouble with the Fed. She and I became friends even though we started out a little rocky. She thought I was actually a girl! Can't blame her, I try damned hard to look like one--five-two, black hair to my waist. I was wearing a copper gown that day, if I remember correctly. It matched my fingernails and lip-salve and she told me she thought I had the most beautiful hair she'd ever seen. That was definitely the way to become my friend! Andi's a lot older than I am--thirty to my sixteen, but that didn't stop her from treating me as if we were totally equals. Anyway, when Ludsa nearly killed Sin, she and I were the ones to rescue the Felidan and help him escape.

At that point, Andi and Sin went out of my life, and I went back to Ludsa and the palace and the task of keeping the Prince happy and trying to convince him not to kill so many people before breakfast or because some petty thief had pilfered some of the silverware. I was incidental to Sin and Andi's at this point in their lives, but I just wanted to let you know that I consider Sinbad sh'en Singh a person it's a privilege to have met.

I hope they made it to where they were going safely....

(Sinbad's Last Voyage is the first novel in the series The Adventures of Sinbad, released as an e-book and paperback by Double Dragon Publishers. It has also been made into an audio book in abridged form by Books in Motion. Sinbad's Wife is scheduled for publication in Summer, 2008.)

I've signed with the Wild Rose Press for my Golden Heart® final manuscript, THROUGH THE FIRE, release date TBD.

At the height of the French and Indian War, a young English widow ventures into the colonial frontier in search of a fresh start. She never expects to find it in the arms of the half-Shawnee, half-French warrior who makes her his prisoner in the raging battle to possess a continent––or to be aided by a mysterious white wolf and a holy man.

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth

When I began writing the vampire series tentatively titled the Second Species, I wanted to tell a story about a people who, through circumstance and misunderstanding, became the basis for one of humanity's most enduring legends--the vampire. Going back over my collection of vampire novels, videos, and non-fiction by such writers as Montague Summers and Ornella Volta, I noticed that in the '70's, a trend began concerning the vampiric hero. It was around that time that the emphasis upon the vile, unearthly, bloodsucking demon began to give way to a more sympathetic view. Suddenly, the vampire was more to be pitied than censured, a being for whom one could feel an empathy--even if coupled with care. After all, the most well-controlled vampire will still be compelled to feast his inner beast, and though you're his best-friend--you might end up being the entree! A good many of these stories were actually romances, where the heroine actually fell in love with this creature and accepted his way of life rather than help in his destruction!

It was with that thought in mind that I wrote Murder in Old Blood, about a vampire who makes no excuses for who he is, but still manages to retain enough of his humanity to show--on occasion--mercy to those who could have become his victims. Kit Landless was a footpad--a mugger--who chose the wrong victim, and ended up becoming immortal--but eventually paid the price for his continued sympathy for humans.

That was well and good, but for the characters in Second Species, I wanted more--these, I decided weren't going to be the usual types of vampires, beings killed and brought back to life in their attacker's image, to continue to ravage the night, but simply people, just wanting to live out their lives in peace. The aventurieri--Transylvanian for vampire--are a second species of Mankind, evolving on a different path at the time Neanderthal and Cro-Magnon vied for domination of the Earth. Becoming nocturnal hunters, they develop a sensitivity to the sun, as well as certain herbs and spices. Though they eat food like their human half-brothers, they also need to consume blood, to supply what their lack of sunshine depletes, and--they develop wings. Feared because of the superstitions of early Man, persecuted and hated by those who can't understand, they take refuge in the mist-enshrouded cliffs of the Carpathians, raising their children, organizing their government, living out their lives with as little communication with Humans as possible, for whenever the two meet, disaster usually follows.

And then....in 1793, their Prince orders his assassin to punish an aventurieri who has broken the Law...and that single act begins a series of events which will send the assassin's eldest son on a journey of revenge and self-discovery....

Two days ago, I signed a contract for the publication of the first three books in the Second Species series--Shadow Lord, Shadow Play, and Shadow Passion. Written under the pseudonym Antonia Paul, they will be part of the new novels launched by Belle Books at DragonCon, in September, 2008.

The Steve

Lately, I’m into web design. Since my interests flit around like a hummingbird blasting from flower to flower, I put all my effort into learning about a new hobby before something else catches my attention. If you don’t already know it, I have untreated adult ADHD, and it’s lovely. I’m never bored with myself or anything around me. And here I am jumping off the topic already, so I’ll refocus.

Okay. Steve Jobs is the hottie (to an older woman like me, anyway) co-founder and CEO of Apple. Think Macintosh computers, iPods, iTunes, and now the iPhone. And you know the cool animated lamp at the beginning of Toy Story and Monsters, Inc.? That’s the emblem of Pixar Animation Studios, which Steve also co-founded. What’s more, since 2006, Steve has served on The Walt Disney Company board of directors.

Since my new hobby is web design, I spend a lot of time checking out other designers. My favorites are (right click, open in new tab) Karen’s Web Works, 2Creative, BlueKey, Glass Slipper Web Design, and Rae Monet, to name just a few of the dozens I like. Well—and I’ll finally get to the point—during my perusal of one website designer, I came across a YouTube interview with Steve Jobs. To say I was disappointed would be a major understatement.

If there’s ever a misleading video of an interview with Steve Jobs, this is it. I’m not sure why a website designer would insert interesting but off-topic YouTube videos in his blogs. Maybe he ran out of website design-related topics. The real problem is not that I'm disappointed in this designer's site, but the fact that when I saw the title, I got excited. I thought perhaps a Big Kid like Steve would have some business advice for people like me who have a full-time job, two part-time jobs, and half a dozen micro jobs. Heck, he’d probably tell me to get on meds.

Anyhow, my journey to find great website designers and emulate them when I grow up is an ongoing process. I’m always finding more designers and am constantly in awe of the graphic finesse of some of the sites in their portfolios. But this Steve video really bugs me. I promise, when I get my website business up and running (you know, when I retire at 65), I will NEVER misrepresent The Steve. In fact, I’ll design a website just for him.


Pamela Roller is the author of On Silent Wings, a totally focused gothic historical romance set in Restoration England. Visit her medicated website at http://www.pamelaroller.com/.©Pamela Roller


Photo Credit: © Thomson Reuters 2008

POSTED FOR MARY RICKSEN:


Nothing is scarier to me than to hear the words, "I'm coming for a visit." Oh yippee, I get to wait on people and not get paid.

How about, "I need to borrow money." If it's family kiss it goodbye.

Or better yet, "Can you watch the kids?" The words alone make me shudder.

When the doctor says, he doesn't have a clue what's wrong, but you need a colonoscopy!Awful huh?

Or it's time for your gynecological torture and breast squeezing procedure? Do you prefer your metal thingee warm? Who cares just grease the thing, please!

How about,"The tooth has to come out!" That'll be $4,000 for a fixed bridge to replace your lost tooth. Heavens.

A good one for me is, "Quick call 911, the car is on fire! I knew I should have changed that catalytic converter." Or, "I can fix the dishwasher no problem." The scream when he gets a shock can be very scary.

Gas is going up to what? Oh God help us the Republican's have to go! There's King Bush, he makes me quake. We have who to choose from? What I have to vote? At a polling place, in Florida, oh yeah why bother.

The shopping carts in Winn Dixie--Don't go without disinfectant handiwipes. Have you looked at the gross stuff on those carts, where you actually put your hands. What germs are harbored there? The only thing worse is all those plastic bags with one thing in each one.

Here's one for you, they are raising our water bills because people have been conserving water and they are not making enough money now. Huh?


New appliances are scary, that thing you brought will break in three months, if it ever works at all.

Or how about made in China, and we used to be worried about made in Japan. They are sending us food, toys and whatever else we buy from them, they're gonna kill us from inside. Even worse is the fact that we as a country import much more than we export. Do the math.

Submitting manuscripts, (put scream in here). Horrible! Waiting for an answer, even worse!

How about, your not home, yep, public restrooms, need I say more. Public swimming pools, people pee in them. They'll deny it, but they do.

I always liked Indiana Jones, but come on Harrison is too old for the part and his real life girlfriend too. I know they cover up the wrinkles but they are there, I'm sure of it.

School ending, what are all those delightful little devils going to do all summer, I mean the teenage ones, frightening to think about.Going to the movies by the way is also bad, especially if there is a bomb scare. $18 each and a bomb scare. Show the damn movie, I don't care.

Or when you go to K mart and get to watch a shoot out right in back of your car. They did get away with some awfully cool clothes. No one got killed but it still shakes you up.

Reruns of Malcolm in The Middle, need I say more. The only thing worse is reruns of Hogan's Hero's, I know nothing.

Phone orders with your credit card, this also applies to those stores who give you a little paper receipt with no business name on it.

Really old people at the Chinese Buffet, especially if they carry their purses up to the food and look around a lot.

The napkins you have to use at your parents home that they steal from fast food places. How long have they had them that they are brown?

Bills, they are frightening. Can you juggle the money to pay everyone?Having to drive to Miami airport to pick someone up. Have you been to the airport recently. Thinking about it puts one on red alert.

Tar on the beach. It's gross, I never thought aqua waters and white sand harbored waters had more than the occasional man-o-war. Bring your shout with you and wipe off the tar before you get in the car. Or your husband will scare you with his red face as he tries to get it out of the carpet. Anybody know what I mean?

So all I have to say is if Friday the 13th is scary to you, if black cats worry you when they cross your path. If those noises the house makes as it settle, start to get to you. Forget it. Frankenstein, pish, I have Lyrch living with me. I can't be sure but I think that no AC in your car in Florida is scarier than Godzilla, heck I liked those two oriental girls on Mothra. I wanted him to fly and get me too.No horror movies bother me, no ghosts or spirits worry me. No monsters, piranha infested waters, creatures, vampires, evil sorcerer or anything sinister holds me quaking.It's life itself, that's what scares me. You're on top one day and down on the bottom the next. That's where the real scary stuff comes in.

Doing things right can scare the heck out of you. But then I always knew the danger is not in the fear of things, but how you respond

I'm kinda like Jake in this little saga--just a bystander, so to speak. I'm another person who's known Sinbad sh'en Singh since he was a kid. Heck, he was still a kid when he met that Talltrees female--only twenty-nine to her thirty-one--but he'd lived so much and she'd barely lived at all, so he seemed a decade older.

I was sittin' in the Blue Owl nursin' a red beer that day she came in askin' for Sin. The bartender didn't want to send her to the Asteroid because he knew how Sin felt about Terran females. I was rude, no two ways about it. I looked her up and down, took another swallow of my red beer, and told him I'd like to see how much was left of her after he finished! I didn't think about how much might be left of him! She looked so innocent! How was I to know?

By the way--Saydee's the name...hookin' the game. I'm a prostie, been doin' Social Work (and I don't mean the Federation Welfare kind) since I was a kid and I'm one of the best, if I do say so m'self! I'm one of Jake's girls and Jake handles nothin' but high-class material, let me tell you. Sin was one of my Regulars--I had a big soft spot in my heart for that overgrown, feline lug and he had a likin' for big, voluptuous Abydian females with blue-white hair--until that little Natural came along and knocked those long, handsome legs of his right out from under him!

The next time I saw Mistress Talltrees (guess in view of the relationship we now have I should her Andi but I'm bein' proper), was when Sin asked me to help disguise her as a prostie so he could get her out of Old Town unnoticed. Was that ever fun! Naturals don't wear make-up--their religion teaches against "paintin' thyself to lure the desire of men," or some such drek--and it was all I could do to keep from laughin' out loud as I applied the heaviest and loudest face paint I could find--and the most provocative clothes--to that naive, little Natural body and face! Oh, ho, was that fun...!

Then, they were gone, and we heard nothin' directly for over a year--just that Sin was followin' Andi's husband, trying to catch up to his ship, that he'd gone to Ludsa, Prince of Vercingetorix-2, for help, and nearly gotten killed, then...nothin'.

When Sin came back, he was real sick-- mesothelioma pneumocosis asbestosis will do that to you--but you could see his heart had been torn out and ripped into little pieces and I knew she was the cause. He spent a lot of time in the Asteroid after that, drinkin' and tokin' and we spent a lot of time in one of Jake's rooms, but we didn't do what everyone thought. Sin loved Andi and, even dyin', had this weird idea of fidelity to her, so our days in Jake's rooms were spent with him talkin' about her--I really got tired of hearin' 'Andi this" and "Andi that"--or nappin', and me watchin' holovids! He paid me the standard rate, anyway--so there!

I was with him the day that kid Cash showed up, wondered why he hustled me away so fast and was really curious about why he left with the kid. When Jake explained what he'd guessed, I felt I'd lost somethin' really precious.... Okay, I admit it! I had this thing for Sinbad sh'en Singh that went past the usual socializer-client relationship and I think he had a few unprofessional feelin' for me, too--but they weren't strong enough to keep him from goin' back to her....

So, he's gone and I'm sittin' here in the Asteroid and it's nearly seven o'clock and time for the boys from the Federation Navy and the Merchant Marine to come pourin' in and Jake's just told me Sin's gettin' out of the Brotherhood. He's going to become Law-Abidin', can you believe it? Because of Andi.

I'm happy for him. Hope, for his sake, it works out....

(Sinbad's Last Voyage is the first novel in the series The Adventures of Sinbad, released as an e-book and paperback by Double Dragon Publishers. It has also been made into an audio book in abridged form by Books in Motion. Sinbad's Wife is scheduled for publication in June, 2008.)

Poets speak of the Language of Flowers, choosing specific blossoms flowers to represent special traits in their poems. Others use animals in their books. Some writers even assign flower-like similes or metaphors to their heroines, while their heroes and villains may embodify certain animal-like mannerisms. Gem stones also have their own secret language and I've used that fact in many of my stories--comparing them to some physical trait of my characters.

Sinbad sh'en Singh (Adventures of Sinbad), is part-feline, his eyes the pale jade of a cat's...mysterious, all-knowing. Jade is the stone of serenity and tranquility, nurturing, increasing love. In all the stories about Sinbad, these are the things he strives for. Granted, his years with his beloved Andi are sometimes anything but tranquil, but there is a serenity in his love for her, an assurance that it will last forever. All Sin wants is a den, a mate and cubs. The fortune he amasses is incidental. As with all Felidan males no matter what their previous disposition, once becoming a parent, he transforms into a nurturing, loving father, and a model mate--as Andi and his children learn.

Several gemstones play a part in the story of Marek Strigoi, vampiric hero of the Shadow Lord. A victim of extreme heterochromia, at the age of thirteen, one of his blue eyes turns a brilliant emerald green, signalling that he will be leader of his clan. The emerald is the stone of infinite patience, unconditional love, and loyalty. In his search for the murderer of his father, stepmother and little brother, Marek needs that patience, since his quest lasts two hundred and twenty-five years. Though it appears initially that he will never find love, his patience is rewarded when he meet the lovely Lily-Magda Vanator, she of the aquamarine eyes--the stone of courage (and Maggie will need it since she falls in love with a vampire). Malachite is Marek's clan gem, a psychic stone of transformation which teaches responsibility for one's actions. He learns this the hard way when his acts get him tossed into Hell for one hundred years, and his release into the contemporary world causes a transformation for which he is in no way ready. On his wedding day, he presents his bride with a ring adorned with turquoises, with the oath that he will be faithful until the day the stones lose their luster. Marek is married in 1810. The stones shine until 2008--very high fidelity! Likewise, his uncle Karl-Josef, Graf von Bliztzensturm, has garnets as his clan gem, the sign of marital fidelity and commitment. Karl-Josef's most scandalous trait is that he's madly in love--with his own wife!

Riven kan Ingan (The Chronicles of Riven the Heretic) is a barbarian bearing the genetic heritage of his family--golden eyes--variously described as amber or topaz. Amber brings wisdom, patience, and encourages decision-making. Topaz is a stone of love, good fortune and the attainment of goals, stabilizing the emotions and making one receptive to love. Riven yearns for recognition and when he falls in love with Barbara Llanginfiar, his emotions go into such a turmoil that every goal he set for himself is abruptly lost, as is he. Acceptance of that love brings not only peace to his emotions but accomplishment of things he never dreamed the child of a sellsword would ever gain. He becomes a Lord of the Realm, dispensing justice and making decisions which involve the welfare of many, eventually transforming the entire kingdom.

Semris the Second (Dark God Descending), ruler of the Mayan city of Nikte Uaxac, is adorned with the native stones of obsidian, jet, turquoise, jade and onyx when he appears before his people. As the reincarnation of Cama Zotz, the vampire bat god, the gems he wears denote the most human traits of this god who would be a man. Obsidian exposes flaws and weaknesses and reveals a person's true identity. Jet gives protection from the entities of darkness, something Semris needs since he's the son of the God of Death; it helps him take control of his life when he's abducted from his home. Like jade, it guards against violence and holds him in good stead as he fights to escape. Onyx gives support in difficult circumstances, while turquoise stimulates romantic love--something the vampire god has never experienced. It brings together male and female energies which are definitely in play after he meets the lovely human Shannon Leary.

Yes, gemstones have a language all their own, so if the hero in your next book has sapphire blue eyes or a gaze as black as jet, consider exactly what those stones represent, and have him act accordingly.

Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes.

Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan, 1892, Act III

I can resist anything but temptation.

Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan, 1892, Act I

Of course the photo has nothing to do with the quotes unless you consider him a temptation, I suppose.

My granddogs

Saturday night I slept with three males, a first for me. All were short and hairy. Two I've know for years, actually since they were barely a handful, and I have small hands.

My daughter has two designer dogs, brothers from different litters, and I am the granny, since we don't have any human babies yet. I don't mind, really I don't. My baby doesn't like to leave her boys, Gibbs and Reagan, alone overnight, so I dog-sit when I can. They sleep with their parents and are real huggie bears. They also expected to sleep with me.

I resisted, since I don't sleep with dogs. After several sleepless nights of tossing sweet, loving, clean dogs out of my bed, I gave in. The guys understand I want no dog butts in my face and the French kissing one is NOT to lick my face when I'm sleeping. They don't sleep in my pillow, either. They don't even try! Each wants time on my body and time just curled near me.

Generous to a fault, my daughter and her husband have recently taken in two foster dogs to find homes for them. The first, a pretty little girl, has found a new home.
She never slept with me, there wasn't time. Thank God!

The second, Smokey, is an older dog, but he learned his place in the pecking order soon enough. His first adopted mama rescued him and made him a prince, with clothes and a bounty of toys and a lovely bed. She had to move to a place where she wouldn't be able to keep him, so my "Kids" took him in and will find him a new home.

He brought even more stuff that my granddogs who are spoiled and have their own room. (Kidding) He did have more clothes, though. Maybe that's why he was so aggressive.

Unlike the brothers, this one is a smaller and a barker, and growler. He acts so fierce and unfriendly. He does want the petting the others get and there is plenty of that in his current foster home. I can't allow a child or an animal to be left out, so I give him his share of Granny's petting. He learned that I don't pet barking dogs, so he controls that, making a sound more like a purr than a growl. I don't think he realizes his noises are considered unfriendly. He's learning, though.

Back to the bed and the hairy bedmates.

My daughter's instructions included that he sleeps in his "bed" at the end of her bed. In other words, he doesn't sleep with them. He sleeps near them. Smokey attached himself to me as soon as my daughter and her husband left the house to attend a wedding and have an overnight stay together. She has health issues and needed the time to have a little fun.

Smokey followed me everywhere and even to bed. I tried moving him to his bed. I tried lying on her bed, so he would go to sleep in his place. Like that worked. I sent him to his bed, but he snuggled against me, instead of leaving. I finally gave up the fight, but then I had three dogs trying to sleep against me and/or on me. My daughter couldn't believe that one since Regan likes to sleep alone. Right!

Sleeping with my daughter when she was small left me tired in the morning because she was a little heater and I feared rolling over onto her. The three dogs kept me awake sweating and cuddling.

I had a sweaty night with three guys and no orgy but I was as tired as I would have been after sleeping with..... Never mind, I won't go there. I'm sweating just thinking about the possibilities.

Photos to follow!

"I love talking about nothing; it's the only thing I know anything about."

--Oscar Wilde

I doubt that any of us are as expert, but most of us are ardent followers.
(The scene above is the patio of one of the office buildings here in the OC.)

I really don't have much part in this particular story, though later, Sin and Andi both played a greater part in mine. I grew up with Andi, was a childhood friend, and wanted to be much more than that. I gave Andi her first kiss behind her father's barn when she was thirteen, decided then and there that when we were both older, I'd ask her father to let us marry. Then that damned Tran beat me to it. He was the first alien I lost Andi to.

My name? Oh, I'm Eli Nighthorse, one of the Naturals. I'm a little different from the others because my mother is Astarte Nighthorse, from New Liberia on Mars, and still dresses as they do. My father was from the Valley as Vicente and his family. I don't look much different from the others...but I've been treated a little differently nevertheless. Perhaps that's why Andi and I became friends so soon, because neither of us was the usual type of Natural.

Anyway, I loved Andi Talltrees then, and I love her now, and between the time Tran was arrested and escaped, and Andi disappeared and returned, and I found her walking down that highway a year later, I didn't know what to think. I knew my Andi couldn't be the traitor the Fed said she was. Tran I wasn't so sure about. I had reason to hate him anyway. After all, he'd stolen the woman I loved. When I opened the truck door and she climbed in and put her head on my shoulder and began to cry, all I could think of was, Here's my chance. Now I can get Andi back! Selfish of me, but that's the way a man's mind thinks when confronted by the woman he loves.

Then, she told everyone she was having a baby--not Tran's but the child of the smuggler who'd helped her escape the Fed--and I was one of the few who didn't shun her. Oh, Andi, you're so brave--and so stupid! Now, of course, the whole story has changed. He showed up, and I've lost her again, to another alien.

Perhaps some things aren't really meant to be. Perhaps I'm always just going to be the good friend in the story, but it doesn't mean I can't keep hoping, does it? My mother says I should give up and start looking for a woman of my own, stop wasting my time.

Don't know if I can....

(Sinbad's Last Voyage is the first novel in the series The Adventures of Sinbad, released as an e-book and paperback by Double Dragon Publishers. It has also been made into an audio book in abridged form by Books in Motion. Sinbad's Wife is scheduled for publication in June, 2008.)

After a long, dark waiting, he appeared

on a night windswept and chill,

making the old Earth cry blood-red tears.

Burning ice-cold with flesh long denied

Life's warmth, he sought to replace his lack with

my own weak pulse,

while holding my heart, night-bought and conquered,

in one pale hand.

I sought my damnation in the darkness, and would have won it,

but for the blood of the Old Races burning in his veins.

When it called to him

He didn't resist,

forsaking the puny Mortal who desired him

to return to the Mountains that birthed his Kind.

Thus now,

when the wind moans soft while the clouds obscure the moon

and through my open window

I hear a soft wing's-rustle break the night air,

I sit and hope and wait,

But he doesn't return,

And I cry alone beneath the waning moon,

And I cry alone beneath the cruel moon.

Parts 1-4 can be found at www.MaryMarvella.com
Parts have been edited to tone down sensuality.

(PART 5)

Jonathan watched from the mirror. How long had he lived to have someone want him to be free? There was a time he could have a different woman in his bed every night. Now no one shared his bed. Scores of years he’d wished he hadn’t been so foolish. Had his women bothered Cassandra or had his words caused her wrath? He’d had no idea how powerful Cassandra’s powers had been. Could she still exist somewhere? Would she even remember him?

Though he’d always wanted women with pale skin, this woman appealed to him. Hell, he was randy and she wasn’t hard on the eye. He wanted to help her run her soapy cloth over her long, strong limbs. What would she say if he called out to her? Hmm. Maybe he should start small.

He moved toward the part of the mirror closest to the place where he could be seen. Until his fall he’d had no idea mirrors had depth. Falling into this one had been like going through an invisible wall into a room. The room wasn’t bad but he couldn’t leave. He’d ranted and railed about his fate but there was no help for it.

He whispered from the mirror. “You are so beautiful.

Watching the soapy water cling to her generous breasts caused him pain, while he admired their beauty. His time as an observer from his prison gave him far more appreciation for beauty than he’d even felt as a free man.

He sighed with the knowledge that he couldn’t do anything about his condition but take himself in hand. While she washed, she leaned her head back, giving him a clear view of her slender neck.

When she dropped the rest of her clothes he stared at her curvy body, with her flat stomach the smooth flare of her hips. If only he could go to her and wash her as she washed herself, slowly working the wet cloth down her stomach and between her thighs. The things he could do for her, if only she would wish him out of the mirror.

By the time she reached for a larger cloth and dried her body, he felt the cold wall of glass against his face. At that moment she turned to the mirror. Her scream made him jump back. She had seen him. Now what would she do?

Sarah whirled around to see the man behind her but there was no one. She grabbed the drying cloth and covered her breasts and breasts and below. Her heart still raced. She could not have seen a man in her mirror! A reflection needed someone or something to reflect.

Grabbing her sleeping dress, she slipped it over her head. Her exhaustion was making her see things. She stepped toward the mirror, seeing her own image clearly. A man’s image stared back at her. Her reflection looked as it should but she glanced away from herself to study the man’s image. “Have I lost my mind?” she asked, her voice so soft she could barely hear it herself.

“No, milady, you have not.” The deep male voice sent shivers through her. “I am here.”

“But you can’t be here.”

The odd looking man laughed. “I thought that for years. But here I am.” Both his hair and his clothing looked out of place in her cabin.

His smile made Sarah hot all over in ways she couldn’t remember feeling before. “How long have you been here?”

“I’ve lost track of time,” he said. “What is the year?”

“I meant,” her throat lost all it’s moisture so she could barely force her words out.
“how long were you watching me?”

“Not long,” he reassured her, but something about his manner made her doubt his words.
His knowing look made her shiver, in spite of the seasonal heat.

Sarah backed away from the mirror. She loved fairy tales, some days she needed them, but she couldn’t deal with a talking reflection in a mirror in her cabin.

“Go away!” she ordered, turning away from her uninvited guest. When she turned back to the mirror, no man stared back at her.

Sarah crawled into her bed and fell into a fitful sleep. Even the sound of her bed covers rubbing woke her. Her body itched and her sheets were rough against exposed skin. Something about that was not right. She had gone to bed wearing her gown but she awoke naked.

Grabbing her gown, she slid it over her head, tossed her covers back. Padding to kitchen she poured water into a glass and drank deeply.

She needed to go back to bed, but instead she wandered out to her porch. The dark had brought cooler air. Wild flowers and blooms on her herbs perfumed the breeze that caressed her skin. Though she usually slept with windows open to cool her house, there was something about outside air that called to her.

Sitting on the top step, she moved her heavy braid aside and let the air cool her neck. Tilting her head she looked at the dark sky, studying the stars. Her daddy had often pointed out several star constellations. He had stressed that she could always use the North Star to find her way home. A lot of good that would do her now.

The stranger in her house had run her out to the moon and stars. Could she be running from the lust she had read about in the Bible, the same sinful feelings preacher railed about when he came through once a month? The singing with neighbors and the company for an afternoon made it worth the efforts to pack food and drive the wagon to wherever the meeting was. He did carry on about lust, though.

Well, she wouldn’t let anyone run her from her own bed. She rose and returned to her room. She punched her pillow to fluff it. She straightened the sheets she had twisted, then crawled into bed. She listened to the silence, smiling. The feeling someone was watching her had gone. She slept until sun lit her room, warming her face.

Feeling almost rested she rose and started her morning ablutions. After pouring water from her pitcher into her washing bowl, she washed her face using a sliver of perfumed soap her daddy had brought back from one of his many trips to capture wanted men for bounty.

Though she was getting a late start, Sarah mixed ingredients for bread, using half of a precious cake of yeast. Rubbing lard on the baking pan served two purposes. It softened her hands. It didn’t smell pretty, but it did the job. She put the dough in the sunny corner by the window where it would stay warm and rise.

Heading outside Sarah grabbed a basket and a knife. Fruit tree blooms fell and she gathered those fragrant blossoms to dry inside.

Sounds of approaching horses sent her scurrying for her shotgun. Grabbing it, she hunkered behind a corner of the barn. Her horses whinnied from the pasture and the approaching animals answered. The way her mares perked up she’d wager one of the approaching horses was a stallion.

After the last few nights she understood her mares, especially the one in season. She slipped into the barn and climbed the latter to the loft where she could watch from the upper window.

(To be continued.)

During the fun at this year’s Romantic Times Convention in Pittsburgh, I had the great pleasure to meet Mr. Romance contestant Ryan Christopher Gardner and his lovely girlfriend Pamela Carr. One sees a lot written about soul mates, but I’ve never met a couple that are so obviously meant to be together. They are like two halves of a whole, so it seems fitting that we interview them together.

How did you hear about the Mr. Romance contest?

Ryan: Pamela, during Christmas break, said she was going to enter me in a contest. I figured it was for a plasma screen TV at Best Buy. Then she went into detail of the Mr. Romance Contest approaching and I was very interested.

What were the high points of the Romantic Times Convention for you both?

Ryan: We both enjoyed meeting Adrian Paul, Fabio, the cover models, and everyone there. We especially had fun with the other contestants. We all became friends instantly.


Pam: I agree with Ryan, and I loved the behind the scenes stuff, and I don't know if Ryan enjoyed his interview with the independent movie but my interview was the highlight for me!

What other modeling jobs have you done, Ryan?

Ryan: None. This was my first, EVER, time modeling.

How did you two meet?

Ryan: Pamela was my boss, I was just a guy who worked in the stock room. I, Ryan, noticed her first. Then, she took a notice of me. She could not believe I liked her due to the fact we have a bit of an age difference.

What is the most romantic moment you two have shared?

Both: Our first kiss, in the Mustang, while snow was falling outside. The perfect romance.

Pam, what is the most romantic thing Ryan has ever done for you?

Pam: Ryan has written many poems for me. So anytime he does that it’s so romantic! One of his poems was read during the Mr. Romance Contest "What is Romance?"
And just plum wanting to be with me all the time is romantic!

Ryan, what is the most romantic thing Pam has done for you?

Ryan: Everything and anything she does is romantic. Honestly, one particular time I distinctly remember is her taking me to the beach for my birthday, without her I would not have been happy, she made it so joyful.

Pam, what’s it like having a hunk for a boyfriend? I know having met him that Ryan is a perfect gentleman but have you had any moments when other women have gone too far?

Pam: It’s a whole lot of fun let me tell ya. And luckily we haven't had anyone try to jump Ryan. We've had some girls trying to engage Ryan in naughty chat on the Internet but he never gave in, cause he finds talk like that distasteful. Ryan isn't like other guys and what you saw at the convention is Ryan, it wasn't an act.

Ryan, you certainly have what we romance writers call a body to die for! Is it tough staying in such great shape? What sort of exercise regime do you have?

Ryan: Thank you very much! Honestly, 90% of the whole staying in shape and keeping "the look" is diet. The other 10% is weight lifting, cardiovascular exercise, and supplements (proteins, vitamins, etc.) The essential rule is if your insides are fine, your outside is fine. I will share some of my little secrets: I drink 1 -2 gallons of water a day for hydration and proper cellular processes, one whole grapefruit a day to detoxify the body, a shot of vinegar after a meal for skin care, and of course, egg whites for lean muscle mass.

Pam, I know you’ve done some writing yourself. Will you tell us a little about it?

Well go to www. fanfiction. net and look me up. Mrs. Sanada, or my most famous story, Zero Patience and tell me what you think?
I will warn you my stores are quite explicit ;)

Ryan, will you be in Orlando next year competing for the title of Mr. Romance again?

Ryan: Not sure yet, if anything, we both would like to visit for fun.

Questions just for fun:

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose and why?

Ryan: Sicily, Italy. There's no place like home.

Pam: Well, I would want to live in Hawaii! Why? Umm it’s Hawaii really need I say more lol.

What’s your favorite film?

Pam: Transformers! It was great!

Ryan: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, childhood favorite!

(A question for the paranormal romance enthusiasts.) If you were a shape shifter, which animal would you like to become, and why?

Pam: a Unicorn they are so mystical!

What’s your favorite gemstone?

Pam: Amethyst

Ryan: Emeralds

Thank you Ryan and Pam!

Hopefully they'll be popping in later to answer any questions or comments.

Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. ~Anton Chekhov

Check out Sears beginning Saturday, June 7th. Several of the stores are offering a $75.00 gasoline card with $100.00 in purchases from Dockers. Perfect time to stock up on clothes for the man in your life and for Father's Day.

"I can't afford to save any more money."
-Borrowed from another forum.

My Uncle, R W Moffett, died last Thursday. To most of you this won't mean a thing, until I tell you that he was one of the wittiest men I've ever known and as tough as any Scotsman who's ever walked this earth. Though he was American through and through, Scotland was his heritage way back when.

The Moffetts were among the first Scots-Irish to settle the Shenandoah Valley where RW lived until the day he died. As do I with that same intention. He was a WWII vet who fought in some of the fiercest battles in the South Pacific and was honored with medals, but rarely spoke of the war. Never to me. To the women he was all civility.

A man's man, he was a farmer who loved to hunt, fish, and tell bawdy tales. He knew every ridge of his beloved Blue Ridge Mountains. A crack shot, he's quoted as saying, 'your aims improves when your target fires back. ' A sobering thought only a soldier can truly understand. Odd, that RW died not long after Memorial Day.

No one who knew RW had anything but respect for him. One sharp look from him and even small children came to attention. But they--we--loved him. He could be gruff but he was kind. A person's rank in life didn't impress him, only their character.

At his funeral, I realized we were burying a legend. The irony of it is that he detested lengthy services and his went on and on with fond remembrances. Then the lights dimmed as if to clue the speaker it was time to wind things up. Only, no one dimmed those lights. RW, maybe?

Most of all, he was married to my dear aunt for 60 yrs and had a deeply loving relationship. That's an achievement in itself. His passing has sent me into a pensive frame of mind as I think of all the grand folks who have gone before me and how blessed I am to have known them. I believe they are still with me, somehow, in spirit. And that I will see them again someday on the other side.

Vampire Valerius Andriescu emigrated to America when his older brother was exiled for stealing one too many women from their Prince. With Marius out of the way, His Highness has been doing pretty good with the females for the past two hundred years--and Val hasn't been doing so bad, either--living La Vida American in New Orleans.

When Marius decides it's time his younger sibling gave up his wild ways and settled down, it's Open Rebellion! One spoiled, young vampire runs away from home...and heads back to the Old Country...to teach Big Brother he can't be pushed around.

It's Val who learns the lesson, however, when he meets a girl exploring the ruins of his family castle. Anike has all the features he likes in a woman--she's pretty, she's smart, she's makes him laugh--and some he doesn't...she's saving herself for that Special Someone. Determined to convince her he's Mr. Right and the ancient four poster in his old bed chamber is still usable, Val is startled to discover he's falling in love with a girl he can only meet at night in the shadows of a Transylvanian castle.

At home, Marius is starting to hand out Ultimatums--but everything pales beside the Big Problem: Anike's human...all right to bite, but not to marry!

What's a lovestruck vampire to do?

Love, Vampire Style, will soon be available as a Black Rose Rosette from The Wild Rose Press.

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"I can't afford to save any more money."
-borrowed from another forum

Would he hurt Yolanda? Her gaze darted to each corner of the great hall. There must be a way to escape. The task was daunting—the hall too large to comprehend. She fidgeted with her gown, glanced one way, then the other.

In one liquid motion, the earl caught her from behind, holding her immovable. He wrapped his arms around her and gave a slight squeeze. “Do you know why you were escorted here?” His massive and powerful body pressed against hers, strangely unsettling. The cool sleek fabric of his shirt slid against her bare arms.

“You mean stolen?” Standing tall, she glowered. “You have confused the words.” No one intimidated her, indeed not this worthless gadje.

His lips twitched, so subtle she might have imagined it. He loosened his hold but kept his arms wrapped around her.

“Lord Colchester summoned you to his country estate to read his fortune,” Sir Geoffrey intoned.

“She is a woman, and needs to be treated with decency. It makes no difference if she is a gypsy.” The earl’s eyes sparked with warning, his voice sharpened.
He reached forward and examined her arms. His fingers brushed against her bruised skin. “I am sorry about my overzealous men. Their allegiance to me is no excuse to hurt you. ’Twill not happen again.”

All lies.

A slow burn tempered her outrage. She disguised it and gave him a cool nod, framed in steel. “Where is Yolanda?”

“If you ask for Yolanda, then you are Valentina.” Satisfaction showed on the earl’s face. “I could tell you were the one. Your eyes glow like polished emeralds.” His startling smoky gaze studied her, veiled yet challenging. “Although you have changed.”

She jerked her gaze away. “How do you know me?”

“I have seen you before. Several years ago.” He doffed his cloak and placed the heavy garment on a chair beside her.
She surveyed his wealth of black hair, his bold, rugged face, his self-commanding presence. “My caravan roams the outskirts of countless villages throughout England, but I do not remember you.”

“You will,” he said.

“I want to see my sister.”

“Soon.”

Katy Rawls was a witness to the brutal murder of Karel Andrews, her uncle Cyril's business partner. Realizing that the computer disk she was asked to copy is the reason, though as far as she can tell, the information it holds is completely useless, she runs for her life. Taking a shuttle from the nearby terminal, she decided to take the disk to the police but the gunmen are in pursuit.

Through a set of coincidental circumstances, Katy ends up on a ship headed for Tritomis-2 with a group of women being taken there to work off their prison sentences in the households of the settlers of that planet.

As each woman is auctioned off to the highest bidder, Katy's turn comes closer and closer. She's already seen a good man nearly lose his bid to one who just might be murdering the women he buys. But for the aid of a red-haired stranger, her friend Cilla would've gone to Alwin Marsten instead of shy, quiet-spoken Abel. Big, buxom Josie, a former cat burglar, finds herself purchased by Lars de Groot, a good-natured bear of a man who was once a thief himself. As for Katy--Marsten now has his eye on her...and it looks like he might get her...until the red-haired stranger again steps in....

The Excerpt:

The bidding reached five hundred. One of the two remaining bidders dropped out. Marsten and the other battled another hundred and fifty Credits higher. At five hundred and seventy-five, the other bidder gave up. With a triumphant smirk, Marsten started toward St. Clair.

"One pound of angelica and no more bids!"

St. Clair dropped his gavel. It spun around, rolling off the podium top, and he bent to retrieve it.

"Did I hear correctly? One pound of angelica?"

"And the bidding stops," the redhead answered.

St. Clair sighed. "Mr. Marsten--you heard? Your bid?"

Marsten looked at the redhead. "A pound of angelica? Prove you've got that much!"

The other man reached into his pocket and held up a second pouch. Untying the strings, he shook several white rocks onto his palm.

"Well?" St. Clair prompted.

"You know I don't have that kind of money!" Marsten snarled. "Let him have her!" He looked back at the redhead. "You'll be sorry for this! We're not finished!"

Flinging himself through the crowd toward the hitching post, he untied his horse, mounted it and rode away.

St. Clair's gavel sealed the bid.

The redhead led Katy toward the desk, placing the bag on it, waiting patiently as the Pastor asked her, "Do you understand and consent to abide by the rules set forth in this Agreement?" He looked at the redhead. "And you, too, sir?"

They both gave their answers.

Taking the pen handed him, the redhead signed his name in a bold scrawl, then offered it to Katy. She took it, signed, and gave it back to the official who folded the contract and presented it to her. He handed something to the redhead, who lifted Katy's left hand, slipping a gold bracelet over her wrist, tearing off the plastic band and dropping it on the table. They walked through the crowd toward the road into town, the same way Abel and Cilla had gone half an hour before.

Halfway there, Katy paused, looking up at him. "Thank you for saving me from Marsten."

A slight shrug. "I wouldna let a dog be sold to that bastard!"

"I'm flattered."

"Dinna be. I think you'll be knowing you're far prettier than any dog created."

His grip tightened, gently propelling her forward.

"Where's your farm?" She wanted to hear him say something else. She liked the Scottish-like lilt to his voice.

"Station," he corrected. "On the Plain. Near the Taheya."

"Near Abel Parker's station?"

"Farm." She wondered what the difference was. "A few miles beyond it."

"How'll we get there? Do you have a Drone?"

"I do but we'll na be using that. I've brought m'oxen and wagon."

"Wagon? You mean we're going to ride in an ox-drawn wagon?"

"That we are."

"Why? It'll take forever to get there!"

"Day and a half. Not long."

"Long enough! That's the dumbest thing I ever heard!" Not a good thing to say to one's employer, but it was true.

"Na necessarily," he disagreed. "Drones are fast, sure. We'd be home in a couple of hours but they also use fuel which costs Credits and since I just spent all my hard-won wealth on you, Sunshine, I canna be wasting any more on fuel, can I?"

He shrugged.

"Besides, this way will give us more time to get acquainted."

"Where did you get that angelica, anyway?"

"Won it in a poker game at Larkin's two months ago. Thought I'd save it for a rainy day. Guess it poured today." He stopped walking. "Here we are."

Katy looked at the wagon. "Why, it looks like an antique Conestoga!"

"Aye. Designed after them, in fact." He dropped her bag behind the seat. "Has to be big to hold three months of provisions, which is exactly what I have inside. If you'll just climb aboard--"

Hands went around her waist, lifting her to the seat. He swung up beside her, untying the reins. Without so much as a snort, the oxen roused themselves as he released the brake with one foot and called to them.

The animals started forward, throwing massive shoulders against the yoke, and the wagon rolled down the street, bearing Katy and the redheaded man out of town.

And away they go...Katy to a life far different from any she's ever known, and the redheaded man back to Three Moon Station, the place where he's hidden himself for nearly twenty years.

(Three Moon Station will be published by The Wild Rose Press, publication date yet to be announced. It is written by Icy Snow Blackstone, pseudonym of Toni V. Sweeney.)

Easy and quick, this recipe is a staple in our Italian household:

Brown 1/2 of an onion in 1/4 cup olive oil in large pot.
Add one large can tomato puree and 2 small cans tomato paste. Fill puree can halfway with water and add. Also add fresh or dried parsley, black pepper, oregano, basil, and 1/2 tsp. of sugar. Cook for 1 1/2 hours. After baking meatballs or sausage, add to the sauce and cook a while longer.

Eyes. Try a modern cat eye look. Make your liner line super thin and very close to the lash line. Brush on a light dusting of powder or shadow to avoid smudging.

A pre-makeup face massage activates circulation and makes moisturizer soak so everything looks moist.

Primer fills in lines and makes makeup last. You can use a thin brush to place concealer in lines you want to disguise. Pat to smooth. Use a sponge or foundation brush to apply liquid or cream foundation if you don't have concealer.


If you use mineral powders, brush on powder, then go over it with a damp brush.

EVEN IF YOU TAN, YOU NEED A LITTLE MAKEUP TO GIVE YOUR FACE SHAPE.

Apply a pinkish brown blush under cheekbones to create contours and add color. Brush a light, sparkley powder above cheekbones for a youthful look and to accentuate your cheekbones.

Berry shades of blush are perfect for natural look.

Dab bronze shimmer cream above the end of each eyebrow to make your eye look lifted. Look, Mom, no surgery!

Puffy eyes? Hold a cold cloth on the puffy area as a compress.You can put the cloth in the freezer for seconds.

To make puffy eyes seem less puffy, use a concealer brush to place concealer on the shadowy area beneath the bags and gently press with your fingertip. Concealer on the puffy area makes your eyes look even puffier so keep the concealer in the dark area.

Try a light foundation the same way.Use a brush or your fingertip and dot the foundation where you need it.Always be gentle and don't try too many steps.

Dark circles
Yellow based concealer counteracts red, purple, or blue tints. Dot under your eye and blend with your fingertips.

To prevent creasing begin with a hydrating under eye cream or lotion. Let it soak in, then dab away excess cream.

Let concealer warm to skin temperature before blending. It will warm on your finger tips with light rubbing.

Dust powder over the concealer to keep in place.

If you have dry skin or lines, dust powder lightly.

The larger your powder brush, the lighter your powder will apply.

Check for previous articles about eye makeup, including mascara application.