Sunday, February 7, 2016

Super Bowl and Weekly Winners


I was a winner 32 years ago ... I volunteered with the AFROTC fundraiser, working as a soda server at Super Bowl XVIII in Tampa Stadium.  I was a freshman in college; my friend (left) and I posed before the mayhem.

We have winners here at SOS Aloha for Super Bowl Sunday!

Survey says ... Multicultural Romance
- Mary P. wins a book choice from my convention stash.

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Katrina Snow's FORBIDDEN
- Mary K. wins a book choice from my convention stash.

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Carrie Morgan's ROAD BACK FROM BROKEN
- Dani wins a book choice from my convention stash. 

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From my travel blog, ALOHA ON MY MIND, Marjorie wins a book choice from my convention stash.

Winners, please claim your prize by sending your mailing address to sos.aloha@yahoo.com.

Mahalo,

Kim in Baltimore
Celebrating Romance Every Day 

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Celebrate Romance Every Day - RWA, Joy of Writing, and RomVets


This past week, I realized how lucky I am to be part of the romance community.  Kimberly from Book Obsessed Chicks (link) nominated me as a romance "cheerleader".  I lunched with Kati from Romancing Rakes for the Love of Romance (link) - we enjoyed Polynesian food at the Taste of Aloha (link). I made lunch plans for next week in Washington, DC, with Melissa, a librarian extraordinaire.


I also received confirmation the Romance Writers of America (RWA) accepted two proposals I submitted for this year's national conference in San Diego (link): 

The Joy of Writing with Cathy Maxwell, Anne Elizabeth, and Julie Rowe

Romance publishing offers exciting opportunities for self publishing, small press, traditional publishers, and a combination thereof to cater to the individual author. The romance industry can also be a cut throat business from negative reviews, stalled sales, and an oversaturated market. Three author stand out as perpetually positive by focusing on the Joy of Writing. Bestselling and award winning writers Cathy Maxwell, Anne Elizabeth, and Julie Rowe share how they focus on their passion for romance while drowning out the negativity which creeps into every author’s life. Each author came to romance publishing by a different road yet they share the same appreciation of the Joy of Writing. Moderated by book blogger Kim Lowe, the authors will engage in a round table discussion of looking beyond book sales as a measure of success and celebrating the creativity process that is the Joy of Writing.


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Reporting for Duty - An Intimate Chat with the RomVets: Grace Adams, Tamara Argyle, Heather Ashby, Elizabeth Langston, Caroline Lingaitis, Kim Lowe, and Anna Richland

Military characters dominate romance novels. They have stormed romantic suspense, moved into small towns, battled paranormal creatures, and defined history from Medieval Times to Victorian Era to WWII. A group of women veterans have turned their swords to pens to write romance novels – the RomVets, www.romvets.com. Three Air Force veterans, two Navy veterans, one active duty Navy surgeon, and one Army veteran/Rita winner will share our military experience to ensure military characters are accurately portrayed in any genre. RomVets are also military spouses, brats, and parents, so we offer an extra dimension into the lives of those who serve – airman, marine, sailor, seaman, and sailor. We will teach writers to how to decipher the military’s acronyms, identify ranks from the five services, and safely carry a weapon. 



As the Pointer Sisters sang, "I'm so excited". I am truly blessed to be a romance reader! If you met any of the above bloggers or authors, what would you ask them? One randomly selected commenter wins a book choice from my convention stash. Comments are open through Saturday, February 13, 10 pm in Baltimore. I'll post the winner on Sunday, February 14.

Mahalo,

Kim in Baltimore
Celebrating Romance Every Day


Lucky guards my convention stash

Friday, February 5, 2016

Aloha to Sally Orr and TO CATCH A RAKE (The Rake's Handbook, Book 3)


No Good Rake Goes Unpunished

When George Drexel used his vast experience with women to write and publish The Rake’s Handbook: Including Field Guide, little did he realize the havoc it would cause. Now years later, the rumor of a second edition has London’s naughtiest widows pounding on his door, begging to be included. But George has given up his roguish ways and wants nothing more than to be left alone with his architectural pursuits…until beautiful Meta Russell tempts him from his work and leaves him contemplating an altogether different sort of plan.

The handbook may be years out of print, but it still has the power to ruin lives. Desperate to save her sister—whose inclusion has left her jilted—Meta tracks down the rake responsible, only to find a man who steals her breath and leaves her reeling. Banding together to put things to rights, George and Meta find themselves drawn inexorably together…but can Meta truly trust her heart to a man who wrote the book on being a rake?


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BAM
!ndigo
Indie Bound


Sally Orr worked for 30 years in academic research, when one day a friend challenged her to write a novel. Since she is a hopeless Anglophile, her books are by default Regency romances. She lives with her husband surrounded by books, modernist mid-century dishes, and English cars in San Diego, California.

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Dear Readers,

I’m deeply grateful that you have stopped by today.

If you have never read my books before, you are probably wondering what type of stories I write. Basically, you’ll discover a light-hearted story about two people falling in love. Expect some wit, a good laugh, and a joy-filled journey on the path to romance. So if you are in the mood to escape to the past and read about two people overcoming obstacles to find true love, then you have the right book in your hand.

The heroine of TO CATCH A RAKE, Meta, is a young widow who is a caregiver for her family. From her elderly father who suffers from dementia, to a young boy in need of discipline, she sacrifices her own needs for those of her family. She believes that if she ever falls in love again, she could never abandon her family, even for the man of her dreams.

Now we come to the importance of the hero—the man who will always be my favorite character. What is more exciting than a strong, masculine hero recognizing, and ultimately giving in to his passion for the heroine? I expect most of us would love to be in the heroine’s pointy-toed shoes.

Also you may discover that some of my heroes have non-typical occupations other than aristocrat. Personally, I don’t prefer heroes that are gentlemen who inherited their titles. Historically, the first person to hold the title was a man of accomplishment—a man that served his monarch well and was aptly rewarded. For me, later holders of the title are not usually as heroic as the gentlemen who combined intelligence, drive, and creativity and achieved groundbreaking discoveries. For example, the men who invented the first electric motor, or a machine that turned water power into electricity in our modern world.

The hero of TO CATCH A RAKE, George, is a gentleman who spent his youth in the reckless manner of a young man about town—gaming, wenching, and sports. He used his vast expertise with women to pen the Field Guide section of the Rake’s Handbook. Now in his thirties, he finds himself jaded and pained to discover that London considers him merely a rake who wrote a vulgar book. He yearns to escape this nonsense and find an occupation that will define his life—be a man everyone will speak of differently—a man of accomplishment. He becomes an engineer working on the most famous structure of the Regency-era—the Thames Tunnel. This tunnel was the first tunnel under a navigable river. When it opened, it was considered the eighth wonder of the world, so the hero’s story intertwines with one of the greatest achievements of the era.

So I hope you take a few hours, sit back, and enjoy a little bit of history mixed with a tender love story.

Thank you and happy reading!

Sally Orr

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Aloha to Rebecca Zanetti and MERCURY STRIKING (The Scorpius Syndrome No. 1)

 

With nothing but rumors to lead her, Lynn Harmony has trekked across a nightmare landscape to find one man—a mysterious, damaged legend who protects the weak and leads the strong. He’s more than muscle and firepower—and in post-plague L.A., he’s her only hope. As the one woman who could cure the disease, Lynn is the single most volatile—and vulnerable—creature in this new and ruthless world. But face to face with Jax Mercury…

Danger has never looked quite so delicious…


Amazon | B & N | Google Play | iTunes | Kobo

Rebecca Zanetti

USA Today Bestselling author Rebecca Zanetti has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college professor, and a hearing examiner - only to culminate it all in stories about Alpha males and the women who claim them. She writes contemporary romances, dark paranormal romances, and romantic suspense novels.

Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonderlands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family who inspire her every day—or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Rebecca offers an excerpt from MERCURY STRIKING ...

What had she done? Lynne had actually fallen asleep on Jax Mercury. She awoke, blinking inside the stifling hood, just as he lifted her into the cool morning air and easily strode over uneven ground. A slight change of temperature hit her, and his steps leveled out.

Inside. They were inside somewhere. The smell of dust and burned tomato soup tickled her nose, but no sound provided a clue as to their whereabouts. All but blinded, she tried to tune in to her other senses. Jax’s boots clomped heavily across a hard surface, and his heart beat steadily against her shoulder.

His stride didn’t hitch as he climbed stairs, turned, walked in a too-quiet area, and opened a door. The world tilted, and he placed her, gently actually, on what felt like a fake leather sofa.

He yanked the hood off.

Light from halogen lamps assaulted her wide pupils, and she winced, her eyes tearing. “You’re an ass.”

Silver flashed, and he cut the zip ties. “So it has been said.”

Heat climbed into her face. The man had carried her easily and didn’t seem winded a bit. Even so, the legends whispered around campfires and refugee camps across the country had to be exaggerated. Nobody was that tough. “We need to talk,” she gritted out.

He yanked a kitchen chair toward her, turned it, and straddled it. Now, in the light, she was struck by how young he really was. Maybe mid-thirties, black hair, dark brown eyes, and rugged facial features. Handsome in a pissed-off kind of way. A scar cut under the left side of his jaw, white and deadly. “So, talk.”

She swallowed and tugged her backpack to her chest, glancing around what appeared to be a small apartment. A kitchenette took up one wall, an unmade bed the other, with dented furniture in between. Sofa, metal coffee table, woodlaminate kitchen table, paint peeling pink kids’ dresser, and mismatched kitchen chairs. Maps covered the table, spread out haphazardly. “Where am I?”

“You don’t get to know that.” He rested his arms on the top of the chair, muscles flexing.

She bit her lip. Men’s clothing littered the unmade bed, and the smell of musk and male filled the atmosphere. “Whose place am I in?”

“Mine.” He lifted a shoulder, his gaze unwavering. “And yours now, I guess.”

She pushed back into the torn pleather. “I’m not, I mean, I—”

One dark eyebrow rose. “You’re here because I’m keeping an eye on you and making sure you don’t infect anybody else.”

“I won’t infect anybody else,” she said slowly, her nails digging into the couch until the pads of her fingertips protested. “We don’t really know the truth about that statement, now do we? You’re the ultimate carrier of the most dangerous plague to ever attack mankind.” He lowered his chin, the movement somehow menacing. “You’re also here so I can make sure you’re not ready to check out.”

She rolled her eyes. “If I’d wanted to kill myself, I wouldn’t have traveled this far to do it.”

“Fair enough.”

She glanced at the unmade bed. Too many women had become victims as the world had disintegrated; the strong overcame the weak. She wasn’t weak, and she was no man’s plaything. “I’m not here for your amusement.”

“I’m not amused.” He leaned toward her, and her breath caught in her throat. “Let me be perfectly clear. I don’t force myself on women, and neither do any of my men. Any people here, and anyone we come across, remain safe from personal attack. Rape is a crime dealt with by death, so you have no need to fear.”

She’d heard that in the rumors and tales, but she hadn’t known it to be true. “Women don’t earn their keep, earn their protection, with sex here?” Wherever here was.

“No.”

“You were in an inner-city L.A. gang. Years ago.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Rape was against the rules?”

His face blanked. “No, but I’ve never forced a woman.” Those dark eyes narrowed. “My past is my own. You sure know a lot about me.”

Not really. He’d become a folk legend fighting in L.A. before the news had shut down. Since then she’d been trying to gather facts, but there were still blanks. “Why did you leave the gang? I’ve never heard why you entered the army.”

He rubbed his chin. “Judge gave me a choice. Prison or military. I guess he saw something in me.”

She let her shoulders relax. “I wondered.”

“Yeah.” Jax eyed her shirt just at her neck. “Can I see again?”

Well, she couldn’t really blame him. She set aside the pack holding her father’s precious journal. Her fingers remained steady this time as she unbuttoned the blouse and drew open the sides.

Jax’s nostrils flared, while a tension, one she barely remembered as sexual, overtook the atmosphere. “Does it hurt?”

“The blueness?” She glanced down, her lungs suddenly

too tight “No. I don’t feel anything.”

He reached out and gently took her wrist, shoving the sleeve up to reveal the track marks on her elbow. “This must hurt.”

His touch stirred awareness deep in her abdomen, and surprise paused her at the feeling. When was the last time she’d felt desire? Or even warmth from another’s touch? She glanced down at the scars caused by drawing so much blood. So many times, and outside of normal medical procedures after a while. “Yes. That hurts.”

“I knew a junkie once with an arm like this.” Jax shook his head and unrolled her sleeve. “The irrationality of a thing is not an argument against its existence, rather, a condition of it,” he murmured, securing the buttons at her wrist. She frowned as the familiar words rolled around her head. “Einstein?”

“Nietzsche.” Jax lifted an eyebrow. “Rumor has it you’re carrying an advanced form of Scorpius. True or false?” “False rumor to isolate me.” She tried to keep her tired eyes open.

Jax gestured toward her pack. “I get the food and water you have, but what’s in the journal?”

She sighed. “Sorry, but there’s nothing about Scorpius. My dad was a physicist and a philosopher. He wrote a lot down.”

Jax blinked. “That’s quite the combination.”

“Yes.” The words on paper were all she had left of her parents.

Jax studied her and then looked toward the gas lamp on the counter. “We have lanterns left, but not for long unless we get more fuel. So keep an eye on the lamp but extinguish it if you go to sleep.”

“I understand.” The guy was quoting Nietzsche? What kind of an ex-gang member turned army special ops turned leader of a vigilante group knew philosophy? She shook her head. Time to negotiate. “I’m here for a reason.” “I’m sure.” He eyed her blue heart again. “You can cover up.”

She fumbled in refastening her shirt. “I’ll teach you everything I know about the illness, and you provide temporary protection and one kill.” The mere idea she was contracting a murder banished the desire humming inside her and replaced the heat with a lump of cold rock.

A veil fell over Jax’s eyes. “What makes you think we don’t know everything you do about the illness?”

She shrugged, wondering if he knew what kind of information he might have stored away just from his ransacking labs. “The Internet went down fast, much faster than anyone would’ve thought, and the news and television thereafter. No way do you know what I know.”

He watched her patiently, as if waiting to strike. “The Internet went down because of a guy named Spiral.”

She blinked. Wow. So Jax Mercury had some seriously good intel. “True. He was infected with the illness and then reacted by creating a world-class computer virus. Figured if bodies died, so should technology, since it got us in this fix in the first place.” Her instincts hummed. Underestimating Mercury would be a colossal mistake. Suddenly, and for the first time in way too long, hope struggled to unfurl within her. “I still know more about the illness than you do.”

“Probably.” He studied her for a few moments longer before cocking his head to the side. “What else?”

She cleared her throat. “I assume you’ve scavenged the area you control?”

His chin lifted. “So?”

She swallowed, her body stilling. “Did you scavenge the emergency CDC outpost on the southeast side of L.A.?” Her blood pumped so fast she could feel a vein in her neck bulging.

“Yes. Why?” he asked softly.

The softness contained a deadly intent that rippled a shiver down her spine. Her fingers fidgeted. “They had the most recent research, and combined with mine, we might have hope.” They also had intel on where Myriad, the ultrasecret lab, might be located.

He studied her. “We raided the CDC outpost and took all medical supplies and paper records. Our limited medical personnel went through the files looking for cures, but I have to be honest, none of them are researchers with your background.”

Lynne leaned forward. “I’m happy to go through all the information and decipher it for you.” Oh God. Maybe the risk of heading into Mercury’s territory would actually pay off . . . if she could find Myriad. “Could I look through the data?”

He leaned back and studied her. “Sure. Are you telling me there may be a cure?”

Mercury in color - Prockter07-edit1.jpg
Full-color image of from MESSENGER flyby
Public Domain (link)

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Wednesday's Warriors: Aloha to Carrie Morgan and THE ROAD BACK FROM BROKEN - Book Review

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For Fitz, having survived means being haunted by the very memories he wants to forget...

Four months after surviving an IED blast in Afghanistan, Army sergeant Jacob Fitzgerald has recovered from his physical injuries but his invisible wounds continue to fester.

Devastated by the loss of his friend Peterson, a gifted medic who was killed in the IED attack, Fitz turns to alcohol to dull his pain. But his solace proves short-lived when a DUI crash leaves Fitz one screw-up away from a court martial and he comes home to find his wife Jenn packing her bags.

Desperate to save his marriage and his Army career, Fitz is befriended by Remy, a young Army chaplain haunted by demons of his own. Fitz leans on Remy for support when sobriety proves a mixed blessing, bringing the clarity of mind needed to reconnect with his family while unleashing a flood of vivid, searing flashbacks.

As the haunting memories of the IED attack and his fallen comrade send Fitz into a spiral of anguish, he must choose between numbing the pain and losing both his family and his career, or coming to terms with his role in the death of his friend.


A lawyer by training but a storyteller at heart, Carrie Morgan grew up in Littleton, Colorado but now lives in Florida with her husband, a U.S. Army infantry veteran.


Soldier's Memorial at Schofield Barracks


All you need is the plan, the road map, and the courage to press on to your destination. - Earl Nightingale


I tend to read lighthearted romance novels as an escape from challenges of military life.  Yet THE ROAD BACK FROM BROKEN was a book I needed to read.  It is a book that Americans should read to appreciate the cost of our freedom.

THE ROAD BACK FROM BROKEN begins with Jacob's realization that he may have healed his physical wounds.  But he needs a plan, a road map, and courage to face his emotional wounds from the IED blast - wounds that are now compounded by alcohol's destructive path.

Jacob is not alone at the crossroads of his recovery.  He finds support from Remy, a chaplain who carries his own burden. That's the beauty of this compelling novel - the imperfect characters offer authentic emotions which will resonate with readers.  I commend Morgan for featuring the chaplain's role in a military community.  Chaplains serve those with - and without - faith.  In the end, Morgan reminds us that every life matters, every soul can be redeemed, and every sacrifice is remembered.

I received a print copy from the author for an honest review.

Missing Man Formation welcomes ships
into the Pearl Harbor Channel

I am giving away military swag to one randomly selected commenter.  To enter the giveaway,

1.  Let's lighten this blog post up - leave a comment about a road trip that proved to be rewarding and/or humorous.   

While living in Hawaii, we visited Maui and took the Road to Hana; check out our pictures at this link.

2.  Comments are open through Saturday, February 6, 10 pm in Baltimore.

3.  I'll post the winner on Sunday, February 7.

Mahalo,

Kim in Baltimore
Aloha Spirit in Charm City

The Road to Hana

Wednesday's Warriors - Aloha to M.L. Buchman and BY BREAK OF DAY


NAME: Kara Moretti
RANK: Captain of the Army’s stealthiest remote piloted aircraft (Don’t call it a drone)
MISSION: To be the eyes of the team

NAME: Justin “The Cowboy” Roberts
RANK: Captain of the Army’s most powerful helicopter
MISSION: To redeem the past, at any cost

They Put Life, Limb, and Heart on the Line

Captain Kara Moretti flies high in her MQ-1C Gray Eagle UAV. It is the Night Stalkers' eyes and ears in the sky, and being behind a remote control and one step back from the action has always worked for her… and her love life.

Right until Captain Justin Roberts walks straight through her shields and into her heart. Justin is a pilot who loves being right in the middle of the fray. Together they'll go where life, limb, and heart are at risk in the Mongolian wilderness. But Justin learns there's something more important than missions - Kara.



M. L. Buchman has over 35 novels and an ever-expanding flock of short stories in print. His military romantic suspense books have been named Barnes & Noble and NPR “Top 5 of the year,” Booklist “Top 10 of the Year,” and RT “Top 10 Romantic Suspense of the Year.” In addition to romantic suspense, he also writes contemporaries, thrillers, and fantasy and science fiction.

In among his career as a corporate project manager he has: rebuilt and single-handed a fifty-foot sailboat, both flown and jumped out of airplanes, designed and built two houses, and bicycled solo around the world.

He is now a full-time writer, living on the Oregon Coast with his beloved wife. He is constantly amazed at what you can do with a degree in Geophysics. You may keep up with his writing at mlbuchman.com.

Break of Day over Bellows AFS

This February, M. L. Buchman raises the stakes—and the heat—in By Break of Day, the latest in his acclaimed Night Stalkers series. To celebrate Buchman joins us on the blog to share an excerpt and answer a quick Q&A!

Did any scenes from this book have you crying or laughing while writing it?

If they don’t, I should be writing something else. I always figure that if I’m not moved by what I write, how can I expect my readers to be. My wife says she knows the writing is going well when she walks by my office and can hear me giggling or sniffling, and its true.

Break of Day over Pearl Harbor

Sourcebooks is hosting a special giveaway at this link ... and offers an excerpt from BY BREAK OF DAY:

Captain Justin Roberts flies a massive Chinook twin-rotor helicopter. Captain Kara Moretti flies a drone and is trying out to be the Air Mission Commander during a training exercise.

Captain Justin Roberts gave the collective control between his knees a little nudge forward. Fifteen tons of helicopter carrying a platoon of U.S. Rangers and their gear eased forward as smooth as a baby’s behind.

Every single time he flew his big MH-47G “Golf” Chinook helicopter, it was a surprise—a surprise of how much fun it was. Like they were meant for each other since long before they met.

SOAR only flew three primary types of helos, all deeply modified to the 160th’s specification. The Little Bird, the Black Hawk, and the Chinook Golf. His girl was the monster of the outfit. Calamity Jane was definitely a Texas-sized lady: big, powerful, and dangerous.

“I feel the need for a song.”

“Oh God, spare us.” Danny Corvo spoke up from the copilot seat. From there he was Justin’s second set of eyes and the master of the helo’s general health and well-being.

“Oh, give me a home,” Carmen cut in from her position at the starboard gun close behind Justin’s seat.

Carmen Parker was hot shit with an M134 minigun that could unload four thousand rounds-a-minute of hell on anyone who messed with her. She was also king, er, queen of the bird—the absolute last word on maintenance and loading.

“Where the Chinook helos roam.” Talbot George was always off-key at the side gun behind Danny’s copilot position, but he sang with heart, even if with a distinctly British accent.

“And the flights are at night every day,” the three of them sang together in splendidly awful harmony.

Danny groaned as if in the throes of death-by-torture agony.

As usual, Raymond Hines kept his own counsel at the rear ramp gunner’s post. The Chinook was the size of a school bus inside. Tonight, in the cargo area between the cockpit and Ray’s rear post, thirty U.S. Rangers and their three ATVs were counting on SOAR to sling them into position. The big rotors fore and aft let her lift her own weight in cargo; even in high-hot conditions the Chinook outperformed most everything around.

By the third chorus their harmonies were better, so Justin hit the transmit switch for the last of it. It got the answering transmission he was hoping for.

“Justin, honey?”

“Here for you, sweetheart.” Kara Moretti just slayed him. From the first briefing where she’d moseyed in all dark and Italian and perfect, his head had been turned hard enough that he kept checking his neck for whiplash. Then when she opened her mouth and poured out thick Brooklyn… Two months later and he still didn’t know what to do with that, not a bit of it. It was all… wrong, yet it was so right. Her voice should be some sweet bella signora, like the one he’d spent a week with while stationed at Camp Darby outside of Pisa on the Italian coast a couple years back.

Instead Kara was—

“You do that to me again and you’re gonna be singing soprano the rest of your life. We clear, Cowboy?”

—a hundred percent, New York. “Y’all wouldn’t do that to me now, would ya?” He laid it on thick.

“Castrate the bull calf? In a heartbeat. And I ain’t your sweetheart.”

“I’ll hold him down while you trim ’em,” Lola Maloney called in from the DAP Hawk.

He was about to say something about how it made the meat taste more luscious and tender—which was why they castrated most bull calves—but he couldn’t figure out how to phrase it without it sounding crude and perhaps tempting her to start looking for some neutering shears when Trisha cut in.

“Roger that! We’ll pin him, you chop and cauterize. Use a really hot iron.”

Claudia Jean Gibson at the controls of the Maven II didn’t speak much, but he could feel her out there agreeing with them.

Justin winced in imagined pain, as he was sure every man on the comm circuit did. He figured maybe it would be better if he kept his mouth shut. Once the women of the 5D got on a roll, wasn’t no man on God’s green earth who was safe.

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More books from M.L. Buchman ...




Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Aloha to Katrina Snow and FORBIDDEN - Book Review

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Off-limits has never been so irresistible ...


Lady Katherine Durant has perfected the art of hiding her Gifts—a valuable skill in a land where any hint of sorcery could lead to the burning stake. But, hiding her Gifts isn’t the same as not using them, and that troublesome difference has led to capture each time she’s run from her uncle.

Now, using a newly-discovered spell, she binds her powers and flees again—this time for her life. Unfortunately, her plan to hide as a maid in a distant kingdom goes awry when she unwittingly gets entered into a festival competition for the hand of a prince—a man with a wicked kiss and a sense of adventure that rivals her own.

All she’s ever hoped for is a quiet existence as a servant, never imagining she could find laughter and belonging and love. And now the mischievous prince has her dreaming of all those things.

With a bounty on her head, sorcerers closing in, and a prince threatening to steal her heart, could it finally be time to stop running? Time to trust? Time to love?


Learn more about Katrina and her books at katrinasnow.com

Caerlaverock Castle near Dumfries, Scotland
Public Domain (link)

There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable. - Mark Twain

Debut author Katrina Snow roars onto the publishing scene with her Renaissance Fantasy, FORBIDDEN. Snow creates a fairy tale styled for romance fans who appreciate an escape into a historical setting. Snow delivers a capable heroine and an honorable prince, evoking a sense of chivalry and enchantment throughout the plot.

Snow allows secondary characters to come into their own without distracting from the Lady and her Prince as they build a life together with enemies nipping at their heals. Snow wraps together magic, myth, and mirth for an epic adventure.

Recommended reads for fans of Renaissance Festivals
.  



I am giving away special swag from National Trust (link), the caretaker of England's historic buildings, to one randomly selected commenter.  To enter the giveaway.

1.  Leave a comment about Renaissance Festivals and Medieval Fairs - have you attended one?   My family is a fan of the Maryland Renaissance Festival.  Check out pictures here, here, here, here, and here.

2.  Comments are open through Saturday, February 6, 10 pm in Baltimore.

3.  I'll post the winner on Sunday, February 7.

Mahalo,

Kim in Baltimore
Aloha Spirit in Charm City