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New from LISA JACKSON!

January 27th: Welcome to the announcement of Lisa Jackson's newest release!!

Today’s the day! Lisa Jackson and sister Nancy Bush are celebrating the arrival in stores of the first novel they’ve written together, WICKED GAME, a mass market original from Zebra Books. It’s been a long time coming. Back in 1981, they sat down determined to write and to be published and, with a friend, began their first novel. While Stormy Surrender never found a home, the siblings did get published—separately—and forged extremely successful and diverse writing careers.

Lisa, known for her best selling suspense novels, and Nan, an award-winning author of mysteries and a former script writer for All My Children, long discussed collaborating, but it was only recently that they were able to juggle deadlines and family to turn their ideas into reality in WICKED GAME.

Their novel—romantic suspense with a touch of the paranormal—takes readers to St. Elizabeth’s high school where wild child Jessie Brentwood vanished. Most in her tight circle of friends believed she simply ran away. Few suspected she was hiding a shocking secret—one that brought her into the crosshairs of a vicious killer. Two decades later, when a body is unearthed on school grounds, Jessie’s friends reunite. Most are sure the body is hers and the mystery of what happened to Jessie has finally been solved. Then one-by-one they begin to die, each in a horrible, freak accident that defies explanation.

Visit Lisa at her website: http://www.lisajackson.com/

Very cool Book Blog!

A big thank you to Denyse for posting this. It’s a great, new book blog—beneficial to Readers and Authors alike. Check it out during our January discussion and stay tuned to Lost in a Good Book at the WRDF site for more exciting events in the coming months!

Writers and Readers of Distinctive Fiction present the January Lost in a Good Book, Book Club Blog. With the success of our November book club blog and with interest from our readers, we are continuing throughout 2009 beginning with our handpicked selections for January. Join Lynda Cooker and Annette Snyder at Lost in a Good Book at http://romancewriterandreader.ning.com/ January 15th through the 31st, we’ll be discussing three fascinating novels. Eva Gordon’s, The Stone of the Tenth Realm, is a fantasy theme beginning in the real world of a concentration camp. Follow Sophie Katz as she overcomes the struggles in her world and fights evils of another dimension. Chelle Cordero shares her novel, Bartlett’s Rule, a contemporary romance of conquering trust issues and learning patience. Corruption’s Child, by John Lindermuth, gives us a taste of suspense and intrigue using a fictional Amish community as a backdrop. Each author offers a fabulous prize for participants of the Lost in a Good Book, Book Club Blog so make sure to head on over and browse the information about our authors and their work, read your selections and join our discussion. Explore a genre you haven’t tried or one that you know and love. For more information on our January selections, visit http://blog.elceepublishing.com/ . You’ll find the latest information on each novel and the authors who penned them. On the Writers and Readers of Distinctive Fiction site, you’ll find the latest about Lost in a Good Book and all our other group activities. As a reader, the WRDF Lost in a Good Book, book club blog is your chance to share your thoughts about our January selections with other readers and our authors. If you’re an author and wish to have your book considered for future selections, visit WRDF at http://romancewriterandreader.ning.com/ and click on the Lost in a Good Book banner.


Annette Snyder-Novelist
http://annettesnyder.atspace.com/
Viveka's War--Available Now
Intimate Flames releasing July 2009
http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/
http://www.growneb.com/
Lost in a Good Book--WRDF Book Club
http://blog.elceepublishing.com/

Thief of Hearts

This was written to be included in the upcoming novel A Perfect Beauty. The sections and chapters will be separated by poetics, vampiric in theme.... Please let me know what you think of the idea, and how this works for you, the reader. I'll grab a comment at the end of the day on Friday, (16th January), and you can choose a book as your thank you gift for stopping by and offering your thoughts and opinions. Much appreciated, believe me!

Now, to the Thief of Hearts....

Night falls slowly, a gradually enveloping darkness that slips over us, and hides our secrets in safe, unseen places. No one is immune to the night, some embrace it like a lover, others fill it with false sunshine, afraid of the things that might hide in the concealment of the shadows. Others seek answers in the moonlit shelter, sensing purer truths than those visible under the searing sun.

The silvery radiance of a pale moon is less harsh somehow than the inferno of the day star that gives our world life. In the softer, subtle coolness all things show a new facet of beauty. The cautious spirit of a fearful heart is lured into a sweet flirtation by a handsome Prince of the night. He knows the game well, has played for an eternity – he never loses. A kiss… a playful smile… sweet words that steal her trust… These are the weapons of his charm, natural as air, the essence of all he is, but so much remains carefully hidden in the shadows, kept out of sight. He tells her to trust him, and she does. She loves him, what choice does she have?

Night becomes a time to love, and know life as she has never known it before. His eyes, the blue morning sky against the black velvet of the darkness, smile at her, stars glittering in their ageless depths. She belongs to him – they both know it. He has stolen every secret that was once locked deep inside her. She has been claimed and conquered, won with the soft rush of his breath as he places a kiss on her flushed forehead, the sensuous purr of his voice as he whispers love to her yearning heart. She is captured, trapped within his being.

All of these secrets hide in the shadows, an exotic bait for a trap as old as time itself. It’s not until she wakes alone, to the flame of the sun, that a greater truth is revealed. She has no mysteries left for him to claim – and she loves a stranger whose trust was never hers…

This is the paradox that defines a true thief of hearts, and the master she will always adore…

Check this out!

This just in....

Today’s Richmond Times-Dispatch features bestselling Virginia romantic suspense author Mary Burton! FYI!

Click HERE to read....

Joan Schulhafer
Joan Schulhafer Publishing & Media Consulting

NEWS!!!!

Buy the book HERE

Winter....

New Release: HEART OF STONE

Okay, here it is, the first release from Absolute XPress:

HEART OF STONE
ISBN: 10: 894817-04-4
ISBN: 13: 978--1-894817-04-2
Publisher/Buy: Absolute XPress
Genre: Action/adventure thriller
Pages: 66 - Price: $3.95
Cover by: Justyn Perry

Randall Stone is the stuff of heroes, a mercenary given a discharge from the army he has served with his life. But the government is still interested in using the skills they've taught Major Rand Stone, and he continues to work with his hand-picked team. Into his shadowy world a light has come, and in her love, Stone discovers unhoped for joy, and, perhaps, unbearable sorrow?

Read an excerpt HERE

The comments for the ELF dances - 2008

The CLASSIC:

At 5:15 PM, Lisa J said...

What style and panache......

At 7:27 PM, Peggy_Tupaz said...

Hi Denyse, I loved it, It really made me giggle and smile. It was so hilarious.
Thank you, it cheered me up.

Saluti e baci xx
Peggy

At 8:29 PM, Shiela said...

That was just what I needed today, Denyse. Thanks a bunch!

Oh, and the two of your really have some awesome moves. LOL

At 10:52 AM, Annette said...

Nice footwork! Dancing with the Stars might be in your near future!

At 2:35 PM, Anonymous said...

Oh dear...you two are a little scary you know.......LOL!!!!Lisa xx

At 7:31 PM, Anonymous said...

Very jazzy Denyse. Hilarious but enjoyable as well.Love Peggy

The CHARLESTON:

At 3:57 PM, Lisa J said...

Scary thing is, I can actualy see you two doing this.......LOL!!!Lisa xx

At 4:28 PM, Judith Leger said...

Too funny! Neat too!

At 8:28 PM, Annette said...

yep..dancing with the stars is definitely next!

The DISCO:

At 7:21 PM, Anonymous said...

Can't beat this. So good and entertaining to watch. Cheers, Peggy

At 3:54 PM, Shiela Stewart said...

This one is my favorite only because I am an avid Saturday Night Fan and I LOVE the Bee Gees. LOL

COUNTRY:

At 2:32 PM, Anonymous said...

Watch what you're doing with that pitch fork pet - you do someone a mischief with that........LOL!!!!

At 7:28 PM, Anonymous said...

So acrobatic with a pitch fork as well. WOW!It was enjoyable, nevertheless. Good one Denyse!Love Peggy

New Review!!

Dec 7, 2008:

Blood Wine and Pale Roses

Review by Kersyn

Rating: 5 Stars

For being a short read may I just say WOW! The amount of passion and description in this story rocked my world. I especially enjoyed the visualization that Denyse writes with. The passion for her work as well as the passion between her characters is vibrantly vivid....

To read more, visit Bitten By Books

Guest: D. BARKLEY BRIGGS

Author’s Bio:

D. Barkley Briggs has worked in radio, marketing and new product development. He also pastored for 11 years. After losing his wife of 16 years, Briggs decided an epic fantasy might inspire his four boys to live courageously through their loss. The Book of Names is the first in a series of adventures set in the Hidden Lands of Karac Tor. Briggs has since remarried and now has eight children. Learn more at http://www.hiddenlands.net/

Link to book on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Book-Names-D-Barkley-Briggs/dp/160006227X

Short synopsis:

It was supposed to be a routine Thanksgiving break. But when Hadyn and Ewan Barlow discover an ancient Viking runestone buried on their family farm, they unwittingly open a magical portal to another world. Fleeing grief and broken dreams over the loss of their mother, the two brothers find themselves hailed as Champions in the Kingdom of Karac Tor. But all is not well. Nemesia the witch is releasing shadows over the whole land. Names are being stolen from The Book of Names, the most sacred relic of the kingdom. Before long, the Barlows realize they must find the courage to fight, or they will never find their way home. There’s just one problem: even if they win, will anyone know how to send them back?


Book excerpt here:

(By now, the chilling truth has sunk in: Hadyn and Ewan are in a strange, new world. It’s not a dream. As they journey toward the capital city of Stratamore, hoping to find someone who can send them back home to Missouri, they are attacked by an angry mob of birds and five drone-like teenagers who have been following them for unknown reasons. Accompanied by Sorge the Gray Monk, Asandra the mirling, and a grumpy, stouthearted gnome named Flogg, the brothers take temporary shelter in a small structure called The Stone House.)

Sorge glanced out the peephole cut into the wall, “The birds that attacked us are a Flight of Crows. Sorcery makes the birds fly swifter, with focus and greater rage. They even seem to multiply. It’s Nemesia’s doing, I’m sure. Ewan, lock the door. Everyone else up against the east wall. Stay flat and still.”

Scooting on all fours, Ewan found the latch and slid the bolt. They all pressed against the stone wall, though Flogg seemed more irritated than afraid. Outside, amidst scattered, low voices, a sound drew near. Feet crunching on pebbles.

Memory jarred Ewan. “Sorge, the hole you made!” he hissed.

Quickly, Sorge smeared the rock face with his fingers. The surface sealed under his touch as if made of paste. At the wall, he drew himself to his full height, staff in hand. Pacing feet now ringed the Stone House. Only the four walls stood between the hunters and the hunted.

The five outside circled the Stone House with slow, deliberate movements—once in full, then twice. The light sound of flapping wings returned. Claws scratched against the thatched roof. Squawking. On the third circuit, something like fingernails began scraping the rock wall. Inside, the air strangely thickened, so that Ewan found it hard to breathe. A strange heaviness began oozing under his threshold of conscious thought, like smoke slipping under a door, making it difficult to think clearly. He fought it, trying to focus on a spot on the far wall. Beside him, Haydn leaned hard against the stone, as if using it to hold himself up. Matted blood was stuck in his brother’s hair, smeared on his face. His ragged breath strangely comforted Ewan, to know he felt it, too. They were both fighting the same thing.

Though Sorge had counted five, only one voice arose from the artificial calm. It was creepy and directionless, drifting like a leaf in the wind, leeching through the stone, shiftless and flat.

“Who travels...so far?” the voice said. It was male, not old. He sounded neither curious nor fearful, stringing words together like pearls on an open loop before letting them tumble thoughtlessly to the ground, unclaimed. Other voices rose faintly in response, moaning like wind on a barren plain. “Who journeys...through...the skies to the home...of despair?”

More soft strides on padded feet. More scraping. More bird noises. Strangely, none of them even attempted to peer through the high windows. Perhaps they didn’t care. Perhaps this was all some bad dream, or a very bad joke.

When a hard fist suddenly rattled the wood planks, Ewan jumped. So much for that theory. Sorge reached out to his left and right, placing a steady hand on the shoulders of both boys. He put a finger to his lips to focus their thoughts. Shhh...

Another thump, this time harder, as if one of the people outside had taken a heavy stone from the pond, and was trying to smash the door apart.

“Who crosses the hidden...barrier...”

The door rattled again, a bone-jarring sound. Thwack!

“...to trouble holy men?”

Thwack! By now, the birds had gone wild, dancing and squawking, flapping and pecking.

“Plans come to nothing. Yours...ours. Nothing. The world will...come to nothing. Hide and prove us true. Emerge and join us. Fight and be consumed. We are...the Name—”

Thwack! Another blow and the door would surely shatter. Ewan found himself straining to concentrate. The what? What had he called them? The last word had drowned in the clatter, but Ewan thought he heard it: the Nameless. The boy’s voice had an gooey, sticky quality. The words formed questions, yet at the same time seemed passionless to any answer that might be given. Ewan’s head spun. The voice in his head felt foreign on the one hand, yet it entered his brain with a sense of relief, leaving a residue of thought he could not wipe away. He shook his head angrily, saw Hadyn making a similar gesture. Ewan wanted to scream, to force it out of his head. The same young man kept droning on:

“Do not think proudly, outlanders. You have come for no great purpose. Let me show you the beginning...of the way of peace: Nothing matters.”

The other voices joined in, creating a soft, uneven chant: “Nothing. Matters. Nothing.”

It seemed to crescendo. Ewan braced for the door to splinter. Wings flapped wildly. Sorge’s knuckles were white on his staff. Asandra’s face glistened in the half light.

“Nothing matters...”

Then, simply nothing. They were gone, the sound of their feet trailing away to the south, lost amongst the whispering grass and the generous curves of dimpled land; lost in the slow circles forming on the water where silver perch topped the pond, gulping for mosquitoes. Birds and voices alike—gone.

Hadyn sank to his knees. In the warmish light, his face was pale. “We shouldn’t have come, Ewan. We should be home right now, with Dad. Not here, wherever this is. I’m so sorry.”

Ewan struggled to catch his breath. He felt the same. But home was a long, long way away...

Douglas Carlton Abrams

Don't forget to visit the fabulous website for this special book, too. I'm reading it now, and it's absolutely magical!!!

The Lost Diary of Don Juan

Bravery

Royal Consort - an excerpt...

Today has started off strange in some ways, I’ve just been offered a contract with a new publisher for me, and even the genre is a bit different for me. I’ve taken traditional adventure fantasy, the kind of quest-type thing that was born with LOTR or The Sword of Shannara books, and tossed in romance and a touch of the erotic… As a mixed genre it sounds pretty wild, doesn’t it? The story is called Royal Consort and you’ll hear more about it in coming months once I have it on my website.

One of the great joys of ePublishing is the opportunity to walk outside the traditional realms of fiction, to mix it up a little, and see what falls onto the page. In this case, a bit of sorcery, swords, epic quest, sibling rivalry, a handsome prince, and a magical world in jeopardy. How’s it sounding to you so far?

Here’s a peek at the tale, so please do let me know if you think this is a thing that will work, or just one of those weird things that should have been left alone????

ROYAL CONSORT - an excerpt:

Rienn nodded. When his hands on her waist moved her, she shivered as he slipped free of her body. “I’ll order a bath and some food,” he told her.

She grabbed his wrist and shook her head. “Later. I want you to hold me.”

Rienn stretched out and pulled her down to him, spooning her body to his when he pressed her back to his chest.

It seemed they’d only slept for minutes when the huge doors of the Prince’s chambers were flung open and the spacious room was invaded by numerous men, all bearing swords.

“Rienn.”

The word was a warning, and Sherindal slithered from the bed as soon as he released her. She scooped up her sword as she rolled, oblivious to her nakedness as she whirled to face the first rush of the attack. Somewhere through the early morning hours since they’d made love, Rienn had thought to retrieve his breeches, she noted from the corner of her eye. He had managed to gain his weapon as well, and they fought, back to back.

Sherindal hissed in fury and pain when the second of the men who engaged her slipped past her defense and inflicted a wound near her waist. It was a surface injury and she quickly rewarded him by slicing off his sword hand. Howling in agony, he toppled back, then fled as he recovered his footing several feet away from her.

Rienn had killed two men and was about to run through the third when Sherindal’s voice filled the room and the sword she wielded, called Huntor, rose with her song. The attackers froze momentarily, those two who remained, and she smiled with grim pleasure as the weapon cut them down, then drifted back to her outstretched hand, coming to rest in her grasp with near peaceful ease.

“Your blood-thirsty weapon has been sated nicely this morning,” Rienn observed with a tense glance at the gleaming blade.

“Who are they?” she asked, her tone as cold as her emerald eyes when she met his gaze.

“Why would you assume I know?” he retorted instantly. “This is hardly what I would consider an invigorating start to the day!”

“Really?” She smiled without humor. “It is one of the more interesting diversions you might have provided, Rienn.” Her laughter was faintly mocking, and not a little bit ironic.

Rienn’s handsome features suffused with rage and he reached for her, gripped her bare arm with fingers that dug into her flesh like steel bands.

“You evil bitch,” he whispered darkly.

Sherindal smiled, and this time it was genuine. She nodded, kissed his chin, the closest she could get to his mouth from her severely disadvantaged height, then she gasped as a fiery lance of pain reminded her of the slash near her left hip.

“Enough, Rienn,” she capitulated.

He released her, scooped her into his arms, and placed her in the centre of the feathered mattress of his bed. He looked closely at the injury, yanked the bell pull near the bed, and then went to the heavy wardrobe at the far end of the chamber.

His guards were rushing along the corridor when he returned to the bed and helped Sherindal into one of his linen shirts. She bit her bottom lip against another stab of pain, and laughed in macabre amusement when she spotted the duo who entered the room.

“They look rested enough, my love,” she muttered, eyes chilly and contemptuous.

Rienn glared at her, then turned an even fiercer visage to the men who should have prevented the assault on his private rooms.

Guest Blogger: JOEL M. ANDRE

I'd like to welcome an exciting new guest to my Fantasy Pages this week, author Joel M. Andre. The book looks wonderful, and I'm sure you're going to love this amazing author....

Horror is so romantic. There is passion intertwined in the story line, and sensuality abounds. You probably are either thinking, freak, or dude has finally lost it. But maybe, you are that one person who is thinking, let’s see where this goes. Well, come hold my hand as I walk you through, the romantic realm of Horror.

I’m going to get rid of vampire’s right off the bat. Mostly, because I think they have become so cliché and have become mainstream and much humanized lately. Now vampires fall in love, walk in the light, and laugh at crosses.

Now Dracula wouldn’t have put up with any of that stuff in his day. He was dark and seductive, and although evil. You could sense the passion as he bit into Lucy Westenra, which opened her soul to her very own passionate emotions. The sensuality of the biting of the next, and in a sense transferring her soul to his, is a very romantic idea. He in turn brings her eternal life.

Next, we can take a quick look at Frankenstein. A tale often thought to be more along the lines of Childhood Innocence. When actually it is a tale of the passion to be loved and accepted. Through the book, the monster of Frankenstein is looking towards the purest form of love and acceptance from someone.

Another classic creature is The Mummy. After centuries of being dead and buried, he returns to a modern time, and falls smitten with the woman he believes was his queen. Through death and the after life, nothing made him forgets his beloved queen who he wants to reconnect with, and love again so desperately.

Then there is the ultimate tale of love, Beauty & the Beast. No, not the Disney tale, the original tale is one of corruption, and with a sadder and deeper ending. But the main theme remains true, a vile beast, and the most beautiful woman in the world butt heads, she finds him insincere and dark and sinister, until he releases her to her dying father for one week. She then is subject to the trickery of her sisters, resulting in the ultimate sacrifice, and finds she in turn loves a monster.

Horror remains to this day a very romantic and passionate genre. I urge you one of these days, and pull a classic off the shelf, and read it with an open mind. It will likely inspire you, and may even fall in love.

Visit Joel's website here: http://www.joelmandre.com/