"A Candle Loses Nothing By Lighting Another Candle" - Father James Keller

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

New Release!!! Prowlers & Growlers: A Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection


Join the dark side with ***ALL NEW*** stories from some of your favorite NY Times, USA Today, and Award Winning, Bestselling authors.

Step into the shadows with witches, werewolves, shifters, vampires, and soul mates: the sizzling hot alphas you love.

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Excerpt from When the Snow Flies by Kiki Howell & Gina Kincade


A few more deep breaths later, she shivered violently, but began her trek around the labyrinth. She stumbled over the stones that edged the pathway a few times when patches of clouds blocked out the moon’s light. Looking up, she expected to just see a glimmer of white brilliance fighting to shine through the delicate filaments that had become infused with dark grey matter. Instead, a shadow flew over her. One too large to be anything her mind could figure out.
She hadn’t realized that she’d fallen to a crouch until her body swayed as she looked up, trying to get a better impression of what had to be a plane or something descending to the earth. Strangely, she hadn’t heard a sound. In fact, the eerie silence unnerved her further. Her trembling fingers pressed against the frigid dirt as her only source of support. Falling to her butt as her gaze followed the tremendous mass, she made out a body too rounded for a plane, with wings too animal-like to be inanimate. In a split second, a scream lodged in her throat as the wing things flapped, rustling the tree branches with sudden gusts of air. A long tail seemed to follow behind, swinging to one side as it glided effortlessly around to come back her way, losing altitude as the thing moved.
She stayed in that odd position, seated on the ground, body curled up, with one arm back behind her holding her up as she used the other one to cover her face while the ground shook beneath her when the beast landed maybe ten feet away. With her heart pounding so hard she could hear the erratic beat of the damned thing in her head, she blinked several times as the image before her registered to fantastical proportions. The fact that Anna saw something out of a storybook or a fairy tale made the only sense her perceptions could come up with, and that unnerved her. So much so, she was wound up like a clock about to explode, spewing gears and gadgets all over the place. The analogy for her head being about to explode based on an image from an old cartoon she’d watched as a child gave her pause. A moment of lunacy that served as a much needed reprieve, since reality didn’t make any sense at all.
Coping mechanisms. She’d heard a lot about them in therapy. In fact, she’d basically left the practice since she hadn’t been ready to give them up. Snippets of songs would come into her head now, memories from childhood of dancing like a loon in the kitchen with her mother when holidays provided long days of baking. These created a preoccupation with remembering every word of the tune, looking up the video, studying the career of the singer, all in an attempt to calm the sudden onslaught of tears. To numb the painful ache in her chest.
At times, she raged at her body. Her heart had the audacity to feel like it had stopped beating, if even for a second. Her lungs deflated, ceased to do their job. All of these sensations served as a tease when she had to remain in this life, too squeamish, too much a coward, to end her own existence though she’d failed their suicide test more than a few times. The desire to find peace in the afterlife with her lost family got trampled by a lesson on suicide and sin her mother had once taught her. Though, she didn’t even know what or if she believed anymore as far as beliefs went, anything to do with faith and religion.. The closest thing she’d come to prayer was the screaming in her head. The raging at some invisible entity around her so-called life.
This confusion continued, rattling her to her core, as this thing, whatever the hell it was—and hell born it could be, given its monstrous size and shape—stared at her. Metal-colored eyes glistened in the faint, cloud-infused moonlight. The size of footballs, they blinked in a never-ending gaze that mesmerized her. The world seemed to spin as millions of overacting nerve cells tensed her muscles to run. Yet, she didn’t move for some strange fear of being swallowed up whole or burnt to a crisp like in those stories of dragons. Sadly, as her eyes focused, the more this thing as tall as a house resembled just such a mythic creature. It seemed the fundamental law guiding her decision to remain a statue was the thought that if prey moved, it got eaten.

In accordance with the new FTC Guidelines for blogging and endorsements, Kiki Howell of An Author's Musings, would like to advise that in addition to purchasing my own books to review, I also receive books, and/or promotional materials, free of charge in return for an honest review, as do any guest reviewers.