Thursday, November 26, 2015


Whisper of Yesterday By: Julie A. D’Arcy
Publisher--iHeart Publishing

Genre--Paranormal, Ghost, Historical, witchcraft, Sensual Romance

About the Author Julie A. D’Arcy - lives in Wangaratta, Australia.
Her love of Fantasy and anything Mystical or Magical since a small girl led her to writing. A writer for nineteen years she been published for almost as long.

 Her first two novels Time of the Wolf and Silverdawn were originally published in 1999 and the year 2002 and Shortlisted for several prestigious awards, including the PEARL and Sapphire, with Time of the Wolf winning the 1999 RIO (Reviewers International, Dorothy Parker Award) in the Fantasy category for Women’s Fiction. Both books were also runners up in the prestigious Australian, R*BY Award run by the Australian RWA. Julie began writing seriously in 1994, and has been published by ImaJinn Books, Mundania Press, Double Dragon Press, Eternal Press, Noble Romance Publishing LLC, Moongypsy Press, Secret Cravings Publishing, Sweet Cravings Publishing and iHeart Publishing.

With several books under consideration by Wild Rose. Watch for Julie’s Tarlisian Sagas with iHeart Publishing, coming soon. Legacy of the Black Dragon, and Elven Magick, and the re-release of The Cross of Tarlis, Book 1 and 2 and The Realm of the Wolf. Her single titles include: Silverdawn, and Whisper of Yesterday with iHeart Publishing, and Night’s Eternal Promise, Face of a Stranger, Whisper on the Wind and her short story, The Siam Encounter.” Coming soon with Wild Rose Publishing.


Whisper of Yesterday A cry for help, echoing through the ages, inspires a young nobleman to rewrite history– and rediscover a passion he had only dreamt of… Cole d’Morgan is contacted by a lawyer telling him he has been left a castle in Cornwall, but to inherit he must arrive at Castle Thornwood on All-Hallows-Eve. As he pulls his car to a halt at the castle gates he sees a beautiful red-haired woman clutching the bars in the rain. However, before he can climb from his car she vanishes into the night.

 On arriving at the Castle he is told the tragic tale of Aidan and Alyssa d’Morgan … A love story that spans three hundred years. Alyssa d’Morgan burned as a witch for refusing to wed her dead husband’s father in 1644 haunts the castle where she was put to death. She has sworn she will not rest until she is reunited with her husband and soul mate, Cai. Aidan d’Morgan, re-incarnated soul of Cai d’Morgan is reborn in the 1800’s and wins back Castle Thornwood on the turn of a card.

On entering the castle he cannot shake the feeling he is being watched, and soon learns that the castle is haunted by a beautiful red-haired woman who speaks to him in his dreams. However, these are not simply dreams, but a past life, which he is forced to revisit in order to find an answer to an age old curse…

What transpires is an interwoven tale of chilling betrayal and a haunting love story that traverses three centuries...

Buy Links:
Kindle Kobo
Print Book


Whisper of Yesterday- Aidan stared down into the courtyard. All was darkness. Nothing moved. Not a night creature called. He swung to face into the room. It was lit by only the faintest of moonlight and a low-burning fire. It had to have been a dream. Naked; the breeze was cold, but sweat still trickled down his back. He stared down at his hands. They trembled. “It was a dream.” If he repeated the words emphatically enough, perhaps he would believe them. He ran a hand through his hair. He had been in Cai de Morgan’s body. He had seen what he had seen, done what he had done, and thought what he had thought. It was as if he was a spectator in another time and all had been beyond his control. Yet as incredible as it was, he had been there.

And who was Cai de Morgan? What was the man to him? And more so, who was the woman? Why did she remind him so much of the woman in the fire? Countess Llewellyn, the woman who supposed to haunt this castle? He strode to the dresser, lit a candle, and crossed to the large freestanding mirror in the corner. Critically, he viewed his features. Was it his imagination, or was there the slightest hint of another image superimposed over his own? Did the face look more angular, the jaw harder? He held the candle closer to the glass, and a chill prickled the back of his neck. The hair on the man in the mirror waved and curled past his shoulders, and there standing behind him was a woman. A woman with a riot of deep red hair, brilliant emerald eyes, full lips, and fine brows—a woman with the face of an angel—the woman in his dream. His hand tightened on the candlestick. It felt as if it were frozen; his fingers glued and could not be uncurled. She no longer wore the yellow gown and headdress, but instead the white shift she had worn the first night he had seen her amidst the fire in the courtyard. Their eyes met and held in the reflection. He swallowed, trying to free up his throat, trying to force words that would not come. As he watched, she drifted closer, yet no step could he hear on the polished wooden floor.

“Who are you?” he managed at last, his words a strained whisper. He twisted around. She vanished. He swung back and stared into the mirror. She stood behind him with a look of accusation in her green eyes. It was as if he was a moth and she pinned him with her diamond bright gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I had to be certain.” He spoke quietly, afraid to raise his voice least she disappear. “Will not you speak to me? Will not you tell me your name?”

She opened her mouth, and just a soft sound issued forth, almost a sigh, as if it was coming from a long distance. “Cai.” Cai. Had she said Cai? The man in the dream had been Cai. The man whose body he had inhabited for a short time. Inhabited. The thought disturbed him, but he could think of no other word to describe the happening. Was he going crazy? But no crazier than seeing and talking to a ghost. Again he wondered what Cai de Morgan had to do with him. How Cai was connected to the murdered Countess.

“I have so many questions,” he said, holding her reflection in the mirror.

She moved closer, pressed her warm soft body to the length of his back, and encircled his waist. His mouth went dry. He couldn't swallow. He had always thought a ghost would be cold, but he had never felt such heat as that which now filled his body and hastened to pool in his loins at the soft caress of her silken hair and the touch of her hands on his sweat-damp skin.

She leaned her smooth cheek against his shoulder, and his body hardened with desire as she tilted her head to the side to watch him for several painful heartbeats through sooty lashes, her eyes dark, intense, wanting. Suddenly he swung to seize her, but his hand passed through a draught of cold air. Goose bumps raced up his arm. She was gone, and he cursed himself for a fool. He should have known better than to try to capture something as elusive as an angel...

You can find more about the author and her works here:

Website--- Blog—

SNIPPET OF REVIEW:perb, and original. I found myself so attached to the intriguing, fully fleshed out characters of Alyssa and Aidan that I know they will haunt me for some time to come. Whisper of Yesterday is a page turner from a familiar Gothic beginning, when an American Scientist braves a blinding thunderstorm on Halloween to reach a castle he unexpectedly inherited, to a surprising, thrilling, and joyful twist at the end. Whisper of Yesterday is an enchanting read that should not be missed. This one’s a keeper. REVIEWER- CORNELIA AMIRI- Virtual Writing Assistant

Thursday, November 19, 2015


Book Details


Dream Casters: Light 

Author: Adrienne Woods Series: The Dream Caster Series Publisher: Fire Quill Publishing Release Date: May 2015 ISBN: 978-0-9946641-2-9 

Synopsis (Back blurb)

Mr. Sandman, send me a dream, ta da da da.....Seventeen year old Chasity Blake knows the Sandman is just a silly children's story parents tell their children to get them to sleep. At least she thought it was, until the day a mysterious, light golden sand appeared in her hands during a high school prank that went horribly wrong. A sand that has the power to send anyone it touches into a deep, sound sleep. Fearing she had lost her mind, Chasity soon discovers the shocking truth of her heritage- she is a Dream Caster. Chasity was never supposed to be raised on the Domain, or what humans call Earth and she is forced to return to her true birth place, Revera – the world of Dreams.

However, in Revera there is no balance between good, the Light Casters, and darkness, the Shadow Casters, and Chasity is caught square in the middle. She soon learns that there is no place for anyone containing both the light and the darkness within them, and the shocking truth that if anyone in Revera ever discovered her shadow self, Chasity would be thrown into the Oblivion – the world of Nightmares. Dreams are always more than they seem, and this time Chasity is going to discover just how different they can be.

Excerpt One 

TWO SETS OF FOOTSTEPS made barely a sound on the rough and weathered wood as they walked across the bridge that led from Main Pacific to the Glands. The streetlights were dimmed as dusk began to settle and last vestiges of light from the setting sun were fading to night. The lumbering clouds were moving in, blocking out any light from the two moons that shone overhead, even the stars seemed less bright dotted across their velvet backdrop. With his golden dust Graig Chen could conjure and wield anything by simply believing in its reality. If he wanted it to be real, it would be.

The Reverse was the most painful thing either of them had ever experienced, but Liam, a healer and Graig’s only confidant, had promised him that they would be able to live in the Domain like normal Nomads, humans. Graig and his pregnant fiancĂ©, were fleeing from their home world in secret, having no other choice if they desired a normal life for their unborn child. They knew neither of their families would ever understand, even though it had been his grandmother who had always said, the heart wants, what the heart wants.

How could he have known that his heart would want a Shadow Caster, and not just any ordinary Shadow Caster. She was special, or at least her family was. She was expected to uphold the family line with her offspring, Graig knew that did not include carrying the child of a Light Caster. The two lovers could never live in peace, not since the balance between good and evil inside Revera was thrown into upheaval.

There were only two choices for casters like them, either light or dark. The balance could not accommodate a person containing both, so for his child’s sake they had no choice but to leave Revera. Live like normal humans in the Domain, or what humans would call reality. He’d found a perfect place, one he’d made sure no one would ever find, not even his two best friends. They knew about the relationship, they’d been there when he’d first laid eyes on her, tried to talk him out of it, to forget the blonde bombshell that would only cause him darkness and misery, but without her his life would be spent in darkness and misery. Her silver blonde hair and bright blue eyes had done him in, if only he’d seen the bow that she’d aimed straight at his heart. If it hadn’t been for his love when arrow hit, and for Liam, a healer, he wouldn’t be in his currant predicament; trying to get him and her off this dimential world that most people would call make-believe, but Revera was far from that. It was the world of dreams, and Graig was a Level Four Caster whose mission was to seek out Selene, their only live Somnium.

It was on one of these very missions that he had met the love of his live, the one woman he couldn’t live without, and he didn’t care if she had black dust, he didn’t care that she was a Shadow Caster, or what some would call a nightmare wielder. Yes, those horrible dreams that leave you paralyzed with fear are actually wielded by Caster’s, not some grave impression of ones subconscious. They are responsible for doubts and forgotten dreams. She was his nightmare, and a nightmare he was prepared to die for. He knew deep down that she would would never survive living in Revera and he was unable to cope with the Oblivion, wherever it was. Oblivion was the realm of the Shadow Casters, created when Selene casted out Magdelena, one of the first Shadow Casters, who was the third Somnium, as a consequence for the death of her brother, Darius, the second Somnium.

Magdelena had no realm to call her own, so she created Oblivion by focusing her hatred toward Selene, a world that could exist inside Revera, far from Selene’s sight. For years, Selene tried to find it, but as long as the Sodivic bloodline flowed through Shadow Caster’s vanes, Oblivion would never be found by a Light Caster.

Sodivic blood was the key to Oblivion’s secrecy, and Magdalena’s family line. There were many Sodivic’s since the dawning of Oblivion but Magdelena reigned over them all. Graig had met many Sodivic’s on his quests, each meeting always ended up in a bloody mess, and in all the years he had encountered them, not one had ever shown any kind of mercy or remorse. They were sadistic and couldn’t be reasoned with. He had been taught from a young age, if you see a Sodivic, you kill it.

That was the number one rule taught to the Level One Dream Casters. His fiancĂ© was the only one that proved his theory wrong. Over the past century, their bloodline had been busy dying out, leaving her one of the few powerful Shadow Casters left. Graig would pay dearly for loving her if her father ever found them, and he couldn’t even think about what would happen to the unborn child she carried.

Craig squeezed the hand that was resting tightly inside his own grip as they neared the end of the bridge. “Were almost there, my love. Not much longer.”

“You’re sure nobody followed us?” Her eyes were wild, searching everywhere in the darkness. 

“I’m sure. Besides, they won’t be able to see us, remember.” He opened his hand, just to make sure she hadn’t forgotten what he was, and threw more golden sand into the air, shielding them from anything that tried to followed them. Then he heard it, a crunch.

He stopped abruptly and she slammed into him. One second of doubt was all it took to break the spell, and before he could realized that doubt, they were surrounded by Nimgolians, the biggest and wicket shadow hounds ever imagined.

They were veil, and reminded him of a Rottweiler that had chased him ones in the Domain.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Keeping it LOcal

So what better way to celebrate a book about a demonic tattoo artist than with a henna tattoo artist inking tattoos at a LOcal library?

It was loads of fun, as I think you can see by the photo below.

And the artwork was awe...mazing.

But there were over 21 LOcal writers, poets and illustrators sharing their work at the Lake Oswego library.

It was a wonderful way to spend a wet windy day. And what a cool library the Lake Oswego Library really is for hostessing this event for the community

Thursday, November 12, 2015


Daisy Banks writes both sweet and spicy romance in the Historical, Paranormal and Fantasy genres. Her focus is to offer the best tale she can to readers. Daisy is married, with two grown up sons. Antiques and collecting entertain Daisy when she isn’t writing. There are also some rare occasions she makes a meal that doesn’t stick to the pan.

Serving the Serpent will be available from Liquid Silver Books on 23rd of November 2015


In Wales, Ceridwyn takes up her inherited duty to care for the dragons in the mountains. Awed by them and the huge book about them, she is determined to prove her worth. Far away in Norway, Leif has growing concerns for his sick dragon. He discovers only one cure will stop his dragon’s suffering. The mighty Herensuge must journey to find his bonded mate. When they meet, Ceri and Leif make combined efforts to aid the dragons and discover an astonishing surprise.

The great lore book each of them protects tells they have a responsibility to the future. At this rare and magical time, not only the dragon pairing must occur. Join Ceri and Leif as they work to keep the sworn silence and keep the dragons safe.

Friendship is growing between them, but will it be enough? Can love blossom between two chosen to serve the serpent?


Ceri said a swift, silent prayer and ducked into the cave mouth. Here, she undid the belt at her hips so her robes hung smooth as they should, and she slid off her Wellington boots. From this entrance, she’d tread barefoot over the chilly surface of the compacted pale clay and raw quartz pebbles of the path. Along and down, she searched with her fingers over the cold and damp rock wall, feeling her way down. She descended deeper into the gloom and passed the low-hanging lump of granite Mam always called Lizzie’s Pap. The darkness now complete, her stomach rolling and her breathing rapid, she heard the echo of Mam’s instructions in her mind as she stepped for the first time onto the gravel-edged shore where the dark waters of the Jet Llyn joined her world to that of her new charges.

She counted four paces forward. Blind for now, she stretched out her right arm and felt about in the darkness until she found the thick branch of wood holding the torch she needed to light. Tiny pebbles stuck under her toes. The nip in the air sent a shiver over her as she set her willow wand down, and with her fingers a bit shaky, she struck the match to light the moss wound around the top of the pole wedged into the gravel. The torch flared. The dry stalks, which must be replaced each visit here, took easily and burned up bright. She breathed out in a rush of relief.

So far, everything was as it should be. A fresh rash of trembles raised gooseflesh all down her arms and not because of the chill in the cavern. Ceri picked up her wand and lifted the lit torch. She carried the light in front of her in her left hand until she reached the scrap of gritty beach with its short rock causeway that projected forward like a finger reaching out toward the middle of the deep water. Here, she held the torch shoulder high so the light glittered and reflected as in a mirror off the depths of the Jet Llyn. In her other hand, she held the quartz-crystal-tipped rod, and pointing it, she positioned the clear stone on her wand so it hovered over the still dark surface. She swallowed, gave a little quiver, forced down her apprehension, and sucked in a breath. Beneath the quartz point of her rod, illuminated by the bright torchlight, a single fat bubble rose. The water rippled. Stronger circular movements followed until small waves lapped at the shore inches from where she curled her toes so they gripped into the stones.

An itch tickled in her palm, but she kept the rod steady. Just as Mam said, they were coming for her. The dragons were coming.

Find Daisy banks here:


Twitter @DaisyBanks16




Buy Links:

Barnes and Noble

Daisy Banks is the author of: Christmas Carols Marked for Magic To Eternity A Perfect Match Timeless Valentine Wishes A Gentleman’s Folly Your Heart My Soul Fiona’s Wish A Matter of Some Scandal Daisy Banks writes a regular monthly story in the Sexy to Go compilations.

And check out the other Paranormal Blogs:

Daisy Banks –
Carmen Stefanescu –
Linda Lamont –
Cassandra Ulrich –
Margo Bond Collins –
Adrienne Woods –
Flossie Benton Rogers –
Julie A. D’Arcy –
M S Kaye –
Penny Estelle –

Monday, November 9, 2015


TAGLINE:  A touchdown for the coach when the music teacher accepts his love

From childhood, Virginia Manning has planned for a career as a concert clarinetist. Blindsided by family circumstances, her plans are interrupted, taking her down a path she would never have chosen. As a music teacher, Virginia’s relationship with the football coach goes from problematic to romantic. After Blake’s brush with death, a scared Virginia runs away looking for the contentment music has always brought to her life.
Because Blake Oliver has experienced disappointment and pain, he opts for a fresh start in a small New England town. Accepting the position of football coach, he isn’t looking for love when it finds him. But when Virginia leaves to pursue a performance career, Blake realizes it’s not where you live but having someone to love that matters. His only problem is making her understand that as well.


She pulled her arms across her chest in an attempt to calm her shivering. Bright lights reflected from her rearview mirror, the only headlights she had seen since she had stopped on the side of the ride. Releasing a sigh of relief, she waited for flashing blue lights to interrupt the blackness surrounding the car. No blue lights. Her heart began racing at hearing a car door slam. She was alone, on a deserted highway. Checking the locks on her doors, she thought about driving away, but how far could she go with a flat tire?
A tap on the passenger window made her jump. “Hey.”
The dark night made it impossible to see the face outside the passenger window. Fear made it impossible to move.
“Come on, Gin. It’s wet out here.”
No one else called her Gin. She hit the automatic button releasing the lock and Blake pulled the door open. Relief flooded her body and was replaced by anger.         
“Blake — you nearly scared me to death.”
“Not the best time for a flat tire. You’re soaked.”
“You’re not so very dry yourself.”
“Where are you headed?”
“I was on my way home. I had an early dinner with my family before they left for the weekend. Staying to play my piano wasn’t a bad idea — I just got caught up in my music.” She loved how her music could take her away from everything, but the downside was eventually she had to come back to reality. “Anyway, I was going through my options when you drove up.”
“Your spare is lying in the mud.”
“I was going to try changing it, but when the lightning started, I chickened out.”
“Well, you can’t drive all the way to Boston soaked to the skin. And I really don’t want to change a tire in this downpour.”
“So what do you suggest I do?”
“Let me take you back to your sister’s house. You can stay the night and deal with the tire in the morning.”
Virginia didn’t respond, didn’t want this moment to end. He was here, beside her and the intensity of how much she had missed him came crashing down upon her like tumultuous waves hitting a jagged rock wall along the seashore.
She looked up. “That sounds good.”
As he leaned over and pulled the keys from the ignition, it took all Virginia’s willpower to keep from pulling him close.

It was thoughts of what she would do after retirement from a twenty-eight-year career in healthcare that spurred Rachel to begin writing her first manuscript in March of 2012. Needing guidance and support with her new endeavor, she joined local and national writing groups.
Rachel signed her first contract in 2013 and her debut novel, To Dance One More Day was released in June of 2014. She is eagerly awaiting retirement to write full time.
A music enthusiast for decades, Rachel resides in Kennesaw, Georgia with her husband of thirty-seven years and a spoiled Labrador retriever. She is a member of Georgia Writers Association, Georgia Romance Writers and is a PRO member of Romance Writers of America.


Friday, November 6, 2015

Dayna's Miracles by Lynn Spangler

Dayna’s Miracles
Lynn Spangler


She had loved. And she had lost.

Dayna Stone had lost her husband eight years earlier when their daughter, Khloe, was only four months old. She had survived the devastating loss of her husband, only to find out she’d likely lose her daughter as well to cancer.

Eddie Kringle is captivated by his beautiful neighbor and her equally beautiful daughter. Born a Magi, Eddie has issues coming to grips that Magi magic cannot cure the child, though his father, Kris, is more than capable. He and Dayna lean on each other as the days pass.

They grow closer and a bond is formed.

A tragedy befalls them on Thanksgiving. Can their love, and the intense love they feel for Khloe, be the miracle they are looking for?


Grabbing his wallet and keys off the countertop, he exited his domicile and bounded down the stairs. By the time he reached the bottom, a sheen of sweat beaded his brow. His T-shirt clung to his back. Breathing underwater would probably be easier than sucking in the damp air.

The choice of cargo shorts and his favorite flip--‐flops would make excellent attire for a visit to the North Pole. Not. Like hed wear cold weather clothes on a day hot enough to melt asphalt.

Eddie stepped into the side alley next to the apartment complex. He turned his head, which became insubstantial, light as air. His body followed, becoming a mist, blending with the moisture in the air, invisible to the naked eye.

The trip to the pole took minutes. He coalesced, twisting and spinning as his body whorled into his human form seconds before he landed at his parents’ doorstep. The blood thundered through him, his heart pounding as it did when he transformed.

Snow covered his feet, slipping between his soles and his flip--‐flops. Not feeling fond of the sensation, he entered the home, closing the door with a solid thud. He slid the soggy footwear off and wiped his feet on the mat. A sigh passed his lips when he stepped onto the heated floor.

“Wow. Two visits in one month. What did we do to deserve this?” said a sarcastic voice from behind Eddie.

He turned and glared at Barry the elf. Eddie nearly had two solid feet on Barry so he crowded the elf and loomed over him. To his credit, Barry stood toe‐totoe with him, staring directly into his eyes, not giving an inch. To irritate the little person, he ruffled Barry’s curling black hair, much like he’d do to a four‐yearold.

Barry slapped his hand away. “Knock it off.”

“What are you gonna do? Kick me in the shin?”

Eddie yelped when Barry did just that. Unlike the stories one hears at Christmas, elves don’t wear slipper‐like shoes that curl at the end. They wear steel--toed work boots.

Eddie hopped on one leg while holding his sore shin. “You little jerk. I was joking.”

Barry’s laughter reverberated around the foyer. He spun on his heel, murmuring, “I wasn’t.”

Buy Links: Amazon

About the Author:

             I live in South Central Pennsylvania with my husband and daughter. My son serves his country in the US Navy.

            My parents instilled a love of reading into my brother and me at an early age. I’ve been known to have my nose buried in a novel.

            When not writing, I’m watching television. Most likely sports or shows like American Pickers, Wheeler Dealers, Rizzoli and Isles, or Major Crimes.