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Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Blog Tour: Kids From the River by Mark G Cosman



Young Adult / New Adult Dystopian
Date Published: July 2014
   
As the current age thunders to a close, five kids are playing together in a river that runs through a forest to the sea. All the while, the society they are soon to inherit is disintegrating. The story follows the diverse predispositions of the kids from the river into adulthood as they define their evolving personalities, amidst the chaos of their decaying world.
Marauding insurgents continually sweep down upon a teetering world government from autonomous northern frontiers, causing human suffering and misery.
As adults, the kids from the river take separate paths to finding love and losing it, to ascending on meteoric careers and plunging into the depths of self-destruction.
The desperate times open the way for Senator Aaron Mire, a charismatic charlatan, whose campaign is awash in conspiracies which polarize the kids from the river.
Amy Ramsey, a kid from the river, becomes the beautiful standard bearer for the Senator’s Genesis Party. Her position clashes with her father, John Ramsey, renowned as the “last great man.” Chairman of the world’s most successful company and the inventor of the mysterious Moon Glow project, John Ramsey is Mire’s most feared adversary.
Ramsey’s personal life is haunted by the memory of a fire-fight while on active duty patrol in the northern frontier, when he discovers his estranged son, born of an affair more than twenty years before, is among the insurgents he has killed.
James, a cheat and a liar when he was a kid in the river, maintains a twisted erotic passion for Amy, but her love since childhood has always been Max Morgan. With his powerful position in Mire’s New Order, James has Max imprisoned, using criminal connections and manufactured evidence to falsely link Max to terrorist activities.
Max’s claustrophobic isolation in prison is made painfully real by the prison experiences I witnessed as a prison corrections officer, while working my way through college, and years later, through interaction with my daughter’s murderer. While sequestered in isolation, Max battles ever encroaching madness to find liberation in a state of mind.  
With Max locked away, James uses Amy to exact his erotic victory. Soon thereafter, his company is involved in an air traffic tragedy in which hundreds of lives are lost. James is indicted and is facing a lengthy prison term. At the same time, evidence surfaces to exonerate Max, resulting in his release.
As Senator Mire’s mystique grows, John Ramsey becomes infected with the dreaded Tezca virus, a pandemic plaguing the world’s population. Ramsey is able to self-analyze his dying experience during intermittent bolts of awareness that rifle through the black night of his coma. When next the kids from the river reconvene, it is at John Ramsey’s funeral.
James is already a withered, broken man facing years of incarceration. Max and Amy are, at long last, reunited. Together, they set the past is adrift downriver, around the bend and out of sight forever.
In these desperate times to come, the duration of life and memory diminish. 

Excerpt 
      Max sat next to his father at the table and watched him admiringly as his mother filled
his plate with potatoes, her hair freshly curled. She winked at Max and cast a nervous glance at her husband. When she did, Max noticed her smile fall away.
“Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah- How w-w-w-w-w-was your d-d-d-d-day?” she asked.
“Cold,” Max’s father responded gruffly.
I think Dad’s angry because he has to work so hard. He’s mad because Mom stutters and he’s furious at the psycho dark ghosts. It’s their fault he has to serve in the SS, away from his business. He’s upset most of the time.
 “Wh-Wh-Wh-Wh-Where d-d-d-d-d-did you wa-wa-wa-wa-wa-work t-t-t-t-t…”
Max cringed. Don’t Mom. Don’t try to say anything, he silently pleaded.
“For God’s sake, talk will ya? Just talk.” Max’s father slammed his fist against the table, toppling Max’s plate onto the floor. Max lurched, dropping a fork-load of mashed potatoes on his father’s sleeve.
“Damn you.” Max’s father backhanded him across the chest, knocking the wind from his lungs. Max sucked in hard to bring the air back. His face wrinkled into a frown and he was about to cry, but with a mouthful of potatoes, he knew he would choke. So, he just sat rigid as a post, afraid to move, afraid to swallow, afraid to do anything at all.





Mark Cosman’s writing began when his daughter, Berlyn, was murdered following her high school prom. It was when he left the rubble of his beliefs and assumptions to go in search of answers to the most profound questions we humans ask ourselves. His first book, “A Flower in the Snow” and later, “The Kids from the River” are the result of that odyssey.

Facebook: mark cosman. 






Monday, December 29, 2014

PROMO: Found, Near Water




Crime / Thriller / Mystery
Date Published: July 2014

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Rena Sutherland wakes from a coma into a mother’s nightmare. Her daughter is missing – lost for four days – but no one has noticed; no one has complained; no one has been searching.
As the victim support officer assigned to her case, Christine Emmett puts aside her own problems as she tries to guide Rena through the maelstrom of her daughter’s disappearance.
A task made harder by an ex-husband desperate for control; a paedophile on early-release in the community; and a psychic who knows more than seems possible.
And intertwined throughout, the stories of six women; six daughters lost.






About the Author

Katherine Hayton is a 41 year old woman who works in insurance, doesn't have children or pets, can't drive, has lived in Christchurch her entire life, and currently resides a two minute walk from where she was born. For some reason she's developed a rich fantasy life.

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Monday, December 22, 2014

Blog Tour: Lies a River Deep by @verajanecook #excerpt



General Fiction / Women's Fiction
Date Published: March 1, 2012

   
 In the summer of 1962, at a high school graduation party, Bessie Day Hardy is victim to a brutal crime. Fifty years later, the consequences of that horrific night will transition into unforeseen events that will shatter her serene and uncomplicated life.



Excerpt

It was a day like any other. Days have a sameness, even new, they offer little beyond weather changes and sudden deaths.

“And how are you today?” Bessie asked, showing a smile that age had not yet dulled. She’d always been cute because of it. Sixty years ago, or more, she was the little girl whose cheeks you pinched, and though she was old now, she still wore her hair in curls; silver grey undulations that framed her face and brought out a blithe desire in others to pinch where her dimples dipped, even to kiss her there unabashedly.

Grey looked up and nodded. “Same,” he said.

The air was damp with April moisture as Bessie Day Hardy wrapped her scarf closer to her neck and shivered. Air that hung heavy like wet clothes caught flapping in the rain made it hard to breathe. The scarf had been a gift in a white torn box, under red Santa Claus wrapping, from the Episcopal Church of Saint John the Apostle Christmas party, just last year. The lime green and
caramel colored wool that she loved to feel against her lips, an anonymous kindness from someone who had written: Bless you and have a very Merry Christmas. Someone, she imagined with fresh white skin, pearl teeth and eyes that sparkled blue in daylight, light as the sea, but darkened with the night, turning cenereal behind the shadows of dusk.

“We ever going to see the sun again?” She sighed. A wind kicked around the corner and her body felt the chill, enemy winds that carried the threat of sodden attacks to bones too brittle to fight. Later, she would feel the ache and she would rub her muscles more for the distraction than the release of pain.

“If we live long enough,” Grey said.

Bessie chuckled. Living long wasn’t the blessing it used to be. Aging was in the way. Couldn’t leave a person alone, had to show up and make her breath short, expose every damn vein in her body and give her the unsightly imprint of impending death. Nobody wants to look at mortality too closely and aging people carry its threat, vulnerably apparent; the weight of its nearness is a
monster in the wings where heaven is a nebulous and cracked mirror; don’t look into it, the young whisper: don’t look yet.

But the old were once young. Bessie Day Hardy still carried the traces of adolescent giddiness in the creases of her lips and her middle-aged ardor for Chauncey Hardy still glinted in her eyes at the memory of his smooth hands in hers, and his fine soft hair against her breast. His step was lively. She could hear it, sometimes, when the house was quiet. Chauncey’s step on the stairs, in the kitchen, on the bedroom floor.

Damn house was quiet now, even her cat walked too softly to hear. 




Pharaoh's Star is Vera Jane Cook's most recent release. The Story of Sassy Sweetwater was Vera Jane’s second southern fiction novel and was a finalist in the ForeWord book of the Year Awards for 2012 and received a five star ForeWord Clarion review, as well as an Eric Hoffer honorable mention award for ebook fiction in 2013. Dancing Backward in Paradise also received a 5 Star Clarion ForeWord review and an Eric Hoffer notable new fiction award in 2006, as well as the Indie Excellence Award in 2006. Also by Vera Jane Cook: Lies a River Deep, Where the Wildflowers Grow, Marybeth, Hollister & Jane and Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem. Her next novel, Pleasant Day will be published in 2015 by Moonshine Cove Press.

Friday, December 19, 2014

Blog Tour: Swing Set


Erotica
Date Published: August 2014

When sex in their marriage grows stale, Steve and Shelly try Internet porn and take sex education classes, and then venture into the choppy waters of swinging. The rollercoaster highs and lows of Shelly and Steve’s experiment in sex, love, and money leads to a woman’s sexual awakening, a couple’s search for greater intimacy, and a re-evalutation of the boundaries that couples must set to find happiness.



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Wednesday, December 17, 2014

PROMO: For the Eye Sees Not Itself



Urban Fantasy / Erotica / Menage / MMF
Date Published: November 12, 2014

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The SIS team has dealt with all sorts of things that go bump in the night--vampires, zombies, even demons. But not everything odd or occult walks or breathes. The CIA calls on SIS leader John Benchley to alert him to a strange set of occurrences around an abandoned house in Baltimore. Investigating, the SIS team stumbles on to something unprecedented and deadly. And not every SIS member gets away from their encounters unscathed.
Life continues to go on--even around vampires, mad scientists and demons. SIS FBI liaison Gabrielle Dichenz, who is the lover of both John Benchley and Evan Garrett, John’s boyfriend, is coming to terms with her new life.  Recovering from her past with an abusive ex means looking closely at her present. Evan’s waiting patiently to integrate both of his lovers into his wider life. John, on the other hand, isn’t the sort of personality who takes well to waiting. There’s something really good growing between the three of them. Gabrielle just has to decide whether to truly grab for the brass ring or let her past dictate the shape of her future.


EXCERPT

John placed a hand on the doorknob. He already had a slightly creepy feeling about this place and he wondered if it had to with the reputed ley lines that Fiona had indicated might be beneath the house. The knob twisted with moderate ease and he pushed the door open.  “No need to break out the lock picks.”
There were signs of scuffed footprints through the dust and dirt in the foyer and he stood motionless for a moment just looking inside.
“Are we going in or what?” asked Todd.
“Yeah, yeah. Todd, you and Cecelia check upstairs. Rich, circle around back and see if there’s a door there. Evan and I will start on this floor.
There was a murmur of assent from the team members, and they began to head in separate directions. Evan was left standing a few feet behind John.
“Is it just me or does this place kind of make your skin crawl?” asked Evan.
John glanced back at him. “No, it’s not just you. Any thoughts as to why?”
Evan stepped in the direction of the front room and stood studying the decorative molding above the door. “Take a look at the corners,” he said pointing to the square blocks topping the corners. “Those look like Thelemic stars to me.” He pointed to the two overlapping chevron’s carved into the wood. It was all stained the same color and the symbols were not immediately apparent.
“Thelemic… that ritual magic stuff right?”

“Not just ritual, more along the lines of ceremonial, and more specifically utilized heavily by the Crowley crowd. I think theremight be more than one version of the stars, but I don’t know offhand what the differences might indicate.”
“Okay this definitely leans in the direction of supporting some of last few things that Fiona found. You take the right hand rooms as we move toward the back of the house and I’ll take the left. It should only take us a few minutes to go through,” said John.
***
Evan walked into the dimly lit room near the back of the house. It had one window, much smudged and cobwebbed that let some daylight in. Along the wall was a dusty broken chair, a fabric duffle bag and a pair of beer cans. He turned around to glance at the walls behind him, near the door. On the right hand side of the door hung a long narrow mirror in a heavy, dark, carved frame. He was standing at a sharp angle to it and couldn’t see his own reflection. Heading toward the duffle bag, he glanced at the mirror again. His image was wavy, distorted and he idly wondered how old the glass was. Something drew his eye.
In the reflection Evan saw a man behind him, and he whirled around to face the stranger. Gabrielle’s body was sprawled limply on the floor. Tom Garner, Brie’s psycho ex-boyfriend, was kneeling beside her, a knife in his hand, stabbing her again and again. Evan screamed, “NO!” He tackled the man and knocked him backward to the floor.
***
As John reached the back door and met Rich in the narrow kitchen, he wondered if Evan had found anything. “Go check upstairs and see if Todd and Cecelia need any help. I wonder of this place has a basement or just a crawl space. Look for a door that goes down,” he said to Rich.
“On it.”
John backtracked and veered into the very abbreviated hallway that separated two of the rear rooms. He glanced into the left hand one, empty, unless you counted dust and a squashed soda can.
“Yo, Evan. Find anything?” he called out. He looked into the right hand one. Evan was standing motionless, staring into an empty corner, his hand outstretched. John started toward him.  “Ev’?”
Suddenly Evan lunged at him, screaming. They went down in a tangle. Evan’s hands wrapped around John’s throat, and he began banging John’s head on the edge of the door frame. The first blow stunned John and he flailed helplessly against the floor. The second was a bolt of agony through the back of his head. He could barely breathe, Evan’s hands were wrapped so tightly around his throat. The blows continued and consciousness was fading into blackness. Evan was still screaming at him, “No! NO! You killed her! Oh God you killed her!”




About the Author

A.R. Moler is a chemistry professor at a community college, a homeschooling mom and an avid science fiction fan. She is a devotee of first hand research for her writing whenever possible and to this end has - learned to fire a handgun, been rappelling, ridden with both EMS and the police, flown a helicopter, bought a motorcycle and learned to ride it. She has traveled to nearly all the places where her stories are set and taken hundreds of photos for documentation. She has been writing since her high school years, but only recently has become published. She recently launched a website for her writing http://armoler.com
Her blog is www.playdohstoichiometry.blogspot.com and is entitled Playdoh, Legos and Stoichiometry. When asked why such a name for her blog, she commented that it reflects 3 of the many phases of her life. Her daughter has been an avid playdoh artist, her son owns enough Legos is fill a 55-gallon drum and the stoichiometry--one of the most challenging topics to many chemistry students. Her husband's only contribution to chemistry is brewing beer.

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Friday, December 12, 2014

PROMO: Pest Control




Environmental Satire / Thriller
Date Published: November 24, 2014

Joseph Vogorev hates spiders and loves money. As the president and CEO of chemical giant Pest No More, he develops a neurotoxin pesticide specially formulated to target only arachnid species. When outspoken environmentalist Gale Pacalis realizes the potential for planet-wide devastation, he wants more than anything to bring Vogorev down. With a host of quirky friends, he collects data to prove Arach-No-More’s lethality. Teenaged Amelia joins his group because she’s personally invested; her pink kneed tarantula, Pinky, died. It’s a race to save the world, but as Gale and his friends go head-to-head with Vogorev, the many obstacles they face makes it seem impossible to win. Mainly because Vogorev has unlimited money and a limited conscience.



Excerpt

Vogorev waved the aerosol can in the air. “The specialized and patented nozzle on this can disperses the contents at five hundred feet per second. Not exactly the speed of light, but still pretty damn quick.” He chuckled.

There was a strained silence and then a lone high-pitched voice called out, “Those are spiders up there!”

Gale looked up at a tank right above his head. The lady was right. The outline of spiders pressed against the plastic was unmistakable; all of those little legs writhing and clawing to get out. There had to be thousands of them in the tanks, throwing themselves against the side as if they were crazy. Before anyone else had the chance to react, a scraping sound echoed off the walls as the bottom of the containers slid open and hairy tarantulas rained down over the audience amid screams and shrieks. Gale stared at Vogorev and saw how he calmly depressed the spray nozzle for several seconds, then smiled and took a few steps backward.

The audience was frenzied, jumping up and down, brushing eight-legged bodies off their pin-striped suits and designer dresses. Gale shook a spider off his head and stepped over a couple of carcasses as the investors exchanged horrified glances with one another. They were trembling and shuddering and holding onto each other. The spiders, however, did nothing.

When Vogorev spoke, the people paid attention as if he was a messiah, “I told you to trust me. Look around. The spiders are all dead. They were dead long before they even hit the ground.”

Gale picked up a carcass at his feet. True to Vogorev’s word, the spider was dead. They were all dead. Thousands of tarantulas lay on the floor as if a mass arachnid suicide had just occurred.





About the Author

Sofia Diana Gabel started life in Sydney, Australia, but her family moved to the United States when she was very young. Home wasn’t settled for a long time and included living in Toronto, Canada; Henrietta and Buffalo, New York; Northridge, Southern California; a short stint back in Sydney, Australia; Reno, Nevada; Dallas, Texas; Daytona Beach, Florida, with an eventual semi-settled life in Ojai and Ventura, Southern California as a single parent to her three daughters.

Perhaps the unsettled partial nomadic lifestyle is the reason she loves to travel and is never fully satisfied with where she’s living. Moving around and travelling to different countries are adventures which serve as potential settings and plots for stories. A multi-genre fiction writer, with degrees in environmental science and archaeology, and coursework in creative writing and criminal justice, she enjoys being out in nature, keeping up on archaeological discoveries and learning about the law, criminal behavior and police procedures (all with, once again, potential for stories!)

When she's not glued to her desk writing or researching, she loves to spend time with her family and hairless Sphynx cats. Writing is a true passion, born from a love of the written word and how those words can transport the reader to different places or worlds and deliver them back to reality, safe and sound.

Author Links

Twitter: @sofiadianagabel



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One print copy of Pest Control

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Thursday, December 11, 2014

PROMO: Undead Obsessed



Non Fiction / Pop Culture
Date Published: October 31, 2014

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Jessica Robinson's obsession with zombie films started when she was in junior high. Horror films are a great lens to examine concerns society has about modern science. Let’s face it, when it comes to horror movies, science has a bad reputation. Blind ambition, experimental serums, and genetic experiments are often blamed for the giant monster terrorizing the city or the reason aliens are taking human prisoners or the cause of the dead rising from the grave to consume living flesh.
Using film, literature, and interviews with experts, Robinson examines how zombies portray real-world fears such as epidemics, mind control, what may or may not exist in space, the repercussions of playing God, and the science behind the fears. Robinson's goal is to explore how zombies become a metaphor for our fears of science and what could happen if science gets out of hand.





About the Author

Jessica Robinson is an editor by day and a zombie-killer by night (at least in her books). Since the first time she watched Night of the Living Dead, she has been obsessed with zombies and often thinks of ways to survive the uprising. In addition to her nonfiction book, under the pen name Pembroke Sinclair, she has written YA novels about zombies and the tough teens who survive the apocalyptic world. She has also written nonfiction stories for Serial Killer Magazine and published a book about slasher films called Life Lessons from Slasher Films. You can learn more about Jessica by visiting her at http://pembrokesinclair.blogspot.com/


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2 Copies of Undead Obsessed


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Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Release: Razel Dazzle



Fairytale Retelling / Erotica
Date Published: December 9, 2014

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A modern twist on a long haired tale....


Will she let down her hair for the man of her fantasies?

Famous for her long, golden hair and beaming smile, Razel D’Punz is the hottest model in the industry. But although most women would kill to get ahead in this profession, Razel lives an isolated life; one she has learnt to accept...until she meets Matthew Prince, a new photographer in the business.

Refusing to let her mother/agent’s strict rules stop her from spending time with the man of her fantasies, Razel quickly discovers that one night with Matthew isn’t enough.... And neither is the life she is chained to. Something will have to change if she is ever to get her very own Happily Ever After.


Warning: This title contains explicit language and graphic sex.



EXCERPT

Prologue

They were two beautiful people. Both strong and healthy, exactly what she was looking for.
The male was at least six foot, slender, but his body was firm. His light brown hair was slicked back, making his jaw-line and chiseled cheekbones more defined. His eyes were firmly fixed on his partner as they attempted the triple spin.
The female—such a petite thing with snow-white skin and a dazzling set of white teeth. Her blueeyes shone as she gazed up at him from a slanted dip. Her golden hair was tied up with stray curls hanging around her face.
Such a beautiful couple. They will do perfectly. She waited for the show to end.
*****
Gabriella stood in front of the dressing room door. The small copper star resting against the worn wood had lost its gleam; the scratched metal had seen better days. She moved her attention to the two sheets of paper pinned below it, one reading: Robert Burton; the other: Nina Hewson. The dancing couple from Arizona. A couple whose lives were about to change.
She knocked sharply upon the door, which opened immediately, bringing her eye to eye with the polite, green-blue gaze of Robert.
“May I help you?”
“You may indeed.” She walked past him into the small room.
The dressing room, like the rest of the broken-down theater, wasn’t anything special. The general necessities were there; a mirror, vanity table, railing for costumes, and two chairs that looked like they had been stolen from a high school classroom. And from what she could guess, the hideous, moth-eaten red fabric hanging from the wall toward the end of the small space was the door to the restroom. The faded floral wallpaper peeled in many places, and the room stank of sweat and cheap perfume. Her nose wriggled almost uncontrollably as the rancid smell swamped her. At the soundof the door shutting, she turned and focused her attention on Nina, who was standing and pulling her faded, pink silk robe shut.
She drank their beauty in almost hungrily, reminding herself why she was in the hellhole of a theatre in the first place. Robert moved and stood beside Nina, who had folded her arms across her chest.
Happy with her choice, Gabriella dusted one of the chairs and sat, making herself as comfortable as possible. This was the last place in the world she would ever choose to be, but for her plan to work, she would need working class people. Individuals hungry enough for fame and fortune that they would sell their souls to the devil himself just for a taste. Who could be more famished than a struggling performer; or in this case, a couple of performers?
So she’d had to drag herself downtown, forced to sit for two hours in the dump that somebody had a nerve to call a theater. No one in their right mind who cared about their career or their bodies would even consider what she was about to propose, but the information she had found on these two loved-up dreamers was enough to assure her that her money would be welcomed, even if it took quite a bit of persuading. And she was, after all, very good at persuading.
She placed her red purse on her knee and folded her hands. “May I just begin by saying that you are both simply marvelous dancers?” Her fake and flattering smile slid into place, and satisfaction stirred inside her as the compliment sank in.
Nina blushed as Robert nodded.
“Why, thank you.” His broad smile fluttered across his lips. “What can we do for you, miss?”
“I was wondering if you would like to make some extra money.”They glanced at each other.
“I was thinking along the lines of ten thousand. How does that suit you?”
Excitement sparked in their eyes. She could see the slight twitches running through their bodies at the offer, and she imagined they either wanted to embrace each other in sheer delight or fall at her feet and kiss her Prada shoes.
Nina beamed. “We would be very interested.”
“Yes,” Robert agreed, although hesitation quivered in his words. “But firstly, who are you?”
“My name is Gabriella D’Punz. I am—”
“Gabriella D’Punz, the founder of Ivory Tower Modeling Agency?” Nina dropped her arms to her side and took a step forward.
Gabriella cleared her throat and purged the surge of irritation that pulsed through her at the girl’s interruption. “That is right, my dear.”
“We accept.”
She fought the slight urge to smile at Nina’s conclusion. “You do not even know what I am proposing.”
Naturally, the girl would presume they were being offered a contract for modeling; why else would a modeling agent come to see them?
“But surely there is only one reason you would want to see us—”
“I’m afraid you have mistaken me, my dear.” Nina’s brow creased under her words. “Or should I say you jumped to conclusions. I am Gabriella D’Punz, founder and agent of Ivory Tower, but I have not come here to offer either of you a modeling contract.”
“But—”
“Although you are both beautiful—I openly admit it—and you are at a reasonable modeling quality, well, you are such wonderful dancers. That is where your hearts are, and I wouldn’t dare drag you away from that passion.”
“Then what do you want?” Nina asked, slumping down in the chair facing Gabriella.
“I want a child.” She paused as their eyebrows dipped in uncertainty to where this conversation was heading. “You see, my husband is growing old, and I am unable to have children….”
“I…I’m sorry to hear that, but what has this got to do with us?” Robert asked.
“Well, I was wondering if you could help me.”
Nina lifted her shoulders, her eyes widened a fraction. “How exactly?”
Gabriella’s focus shifted to Robert; a small smile curled her lips as realization blossomed over his face.
“Haven’t you heard of adoption?”
“Yes. But I want a surrogate mother and in all honesty, I have had my eyes on you,”—she rested her gaze on Nina—“my dear, for quite some time.”
Nina shifted in her seat. “What do you mean?”
“I want you to be my surrogate.”“What? No.” She shook her head. “No, I won’t do that.”
Robert stepped forward. “Why her? What do you mean; you’ve had your eyes on her?”“I saw a show of yours a year ago. I became interested in you. You’re both beautiful and in good health. From what I have learned of your education, you are both decently smart. All the qualities I need in a child. I have considered adoption for years, but I never found a child I liked.”
Nina’s eyes grew bigger. “What, you…you’ve been spying on us?”
“No, not spying. I just have an interest. I also have an interest in your career. You’re not making very much money. You have no home. You’re living out of Motels, travelling up and down the country—”
“How dare you!” Robert thundered. “How dare you come in here and…and poke your nose in to our business, to ask—”
“There’s no need to get hysterical.”
“No need? I...I...Get out! I want you out!”
Gabriella sighed. “I see you are going to make this difficult. So, let’s just get down to it, shall we? How much money do you want?”
“What? This isn’t about money,” Robert snapped.
“Nonsense, everything is about money.” She reached into her purse and pulled out her silver cigarette pouch. “Everyone has a price. So name it.”
“No. This isn’t about money. This is about a complete stranger waltzing into our dressing room demanding a baby from us!”
“I have not demanded anything from you. Please keep calm.” She placed a cigarette in her mouth and put the pouch back in her purse.“I will not! You have no right! No right to ask this! No right to go digging around in our private business!”
“I was not digging, and more to the point, I am offering you fifteen thousand dollars to have a child for me; for a woman who is unable to have children.” Gabriella pulled her lighter from her purse and lit the end of her cigarette.
“And that’s our problem?”
“I do not see what the problem is.”
“You wouldn’t, would you? You strut in here with your expensive clothes thinking you can buy people. Thinking you can buy a baby?” Robert's face grew redder with each word.
“Why did you choose us?” Nina’s voice was soft, tentative.
Removing the cigarette from between her lips, she blew out a cloud of smoke. “Because with your looks,—” Gabriella’s lips twisted into a smile “—you would give birth to a supermodel.”
“You’re disgusting,” Robert replied through clenched teeth. “Get out!”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing. I get a child, and you get money.” She slipped the lighter back into her purse. “Money that you are both in need of.”
“Get out.” Nina stood up. Her hands balled into the material of her robe. “Please, get out.”
“Are you sure you want to turn this offer down?” She kept her attention on Nina as she stood. “Twenty thousand can really come in useful.”
Robert walked to the door and opened it. “Your money isn’t welcome here.”
She laughed, and glanced in his direction. “My money is welcome everywhere.”
“Get out.”
“Why are you so insulted?” She tucked her purse under her arm. “I am offering you twenty thousand dollars to have sex and get pregnant. Once you are pregnant, you will stay in my home as guests. My doctor will see you, take care of you, and then when it is time, he will deliver the baby. As soon as you are well, you may leave. You may leave twenty thousand dollars richer than you are at this very moment. You can get on with your lives, fulfill your dreams. Tell me what is so disagreeable?”
“You want me to get pregnant and sell my baby to you for twenty thousand dollars?” Lines creased Nina’s forehead.
“Yes.”
“No! It’s wrong.”
Gabriella shrugged. “Who said it is wrong?”
Nina shook her head. “I won’t do that.”
“Not even for twenty-five thousand dollars?” Gabriella quirked her right eyebrow. “How much do you want?”
“Get out!” Robert demanded once more.
“Fine.” She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small ivory card, which she placed on the vanity table beside Nina. “Call me when you realize this is the best offer you will receive in your lifetime.” She walked past Robert and out the door, turning right toward the fire exit.
Gabriella heard the door slam shut as she took another drag of her cigarette. Then the shouting began. She pushed the fire exit open as her smile spread to her ears.

About the Author


Elizabeth Morgan is a multi-published author of urban fantasy, paranormal, erotic horror, f/f, and contemporary; all with a degree of romance, a dose of action and a hit of sarcasm, sizzle or blood, but you can be sure that no matter what the genre, Elizabeth always manages to give a unique and often humorous spin to her stories.

Like her tagline says; A pick ‘n’ mix genre author. “I’m not greedy. I just like variety.”And that she does, author of erotic m√©nage horror, Creak, paranormal erotic horror and UK, US & Australian Amazon best seller (Gay/Lesbian, Fiction, Lesbian), On the Rocks, erotic romance, US, UK & Spanish Amazon bestseller (Erotica Short Story) Truth or Dare? And sweet contemporary romance, UK & US Amazon bestseller (British/Drama & Plays) Stepping Stones.

She also has her hand in self-publishing. Look out for more information on her upcoming releases at her website: www.e-morgan.com

Away from the computer, Elizabeth can be found in the garden trying hard not to kill her plants, dancing around her little cottage with the radio on while she cleans, watching movies or good television programmes – Dr Who? Atlantis? The Musketeers? Heck, yes! – Or curled up with her two cats reading a book.


Author Links

Twitter: @EMorgan2010



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A signed paperback copy of Razel Dazzle, plus a story themed charm, and a signed swag pack.





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