Monday, July 28, 2014

WELCOME TO TUESDAY'S TALES



Hello Readers,
Welcome to this week's Tuesday Tales. The prompt for the week is "Right" .....

I decided on a change of pace this week and left Ginger and the Gray Mortuary behind to move to the paranormal historical I'm working on and hope to have released later this year. It's titled, Darkest Angel, and is Book 2 in my Angels of Deadwood Gulch Series. Emily and Slade are secondary characters in the novel, but I hope you'll enjoy this snippet from when they first meet.

Darkest Angel/Shay

He come riding from the west, a tall man in the saddle silhouetted against the setting sun. Riding slowly, he didn't give the impression he was in a hurry, but from the way he looked around, he was careful. When he rode into the yard, his eyes took in everything.
Emily didn't know why she wasn't afraid, but somehow she knew he wasn't a threat, at least, not to her. 
He was cautious.
She didn't fault him for being so.
Dressed all in black, she couldn't very well deny he looked menacing, especially with the worn leather holsters strapped to his hips, two Colt .45s in place.
When he got off the horse, she held her breath.
What did he want?
She remained behind the waist high well where she was drawing water to carry to the chickens. The board enclosure around the four sides blocked most of his view of her.
“Ma’am,” he said politely and tipped his dark hat.
He remained beside his horse, maybe to assure her he meant her no harm. A gunfighter. The second in three days she’d met—first Rio, now this stranger. Gunfighters weren't new to the Dakota Territory, but she’d always managed to avoid them.
Who was he?
Why was he here?
She nodded a hello and finished pulling up the bucket of water. She hefted the full bucket on to the top of the well. Water splashed over the sides wetting the front of her gown, her shoes, and the boards.
“That water sure looks good,” he said in a soft drawl sliding his gaze up and down the front of her gown. “Mind giving a stranger a drink?”
Heat crawled up her face. Were his words sincere or did they have a double meaning? Emily shaded her eyes against the evening sun and studied him for a long moment. The way his gaze kept returning to her breasts, she was pretty sure his words were filled with meaning.
And yes, she did mind, but she wasn't rude enough to say such words. He didn't appear uncomfortable with her suspicious look directed at him. She didn't detect hostility, but Lord above, she had the feeling he could get dangerous real fast, even if he was the stillest man she'd ever seen.
He must have sensed her hesitation. “I emptied my canteen some ways back,” he said, “but if you prefer not to share your water, I can get back on my horse and mosey on.” He seemed intent on reassuring her he meant no harm, but trust didn't come easy for Emily.
He tossed his reins over his saddle and took a single step toward the well.
Emily let go of the pail of water and closed her fingers around the rifle standing at her side. From where he stood, he couldn't see the gun, but he must have instinctively known she had a weapon because he froze. “Ma’am, my name’s Slade. Slade McKenna. I’m a U.S. Marshall. I’m not here to cause you grief, so if you wouldn't mind, I’d sure like it if you’d take your hand off that rifle.”
“I mind,” she said, keeping her fingers wrapped around the barrel. “I don’t see a badge. Not on your vest. Not on your shirt.”
“No, ma’am. It’s in my pocket. I don’t like making myself a target. There are men who like nothing better than putting a bullet through a badge while a man’s still wearing it.”
“I suppose that’s true enough,” she replied. “You can have a drink of water.” She lifted the gourd dipper off the nail where it dangled on the well post. With her free hand, she dipped it into the bucket of water. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He took the gourd from her, careful to keep the well between them. “You sure are a distrusting little gal.”
She didn't reply. Emily had little use for small talk.
He handed the dipper back to her and backed away. Reaching his horse, he grabbed the reins. “Mind if I water my horse at that trough over there?” He’d already turned the sorrel colored mare before he asked.
Startled, Emily snatched up the rifle and leveled it on his chest. “Don’t move.”
He dropped the reins and raised his hands in surrender. “Yes ma’am. I reckon I’ll just stand right here until you tell me otherwise.”

RETURN TO TUESDAY TALES
AND SOME WONDERFUL AUTHORS... 

Monday, July 21, 2014

WELCOME TO TUESDAY TALES




Hi Everyone,
Every Tuesday, a small group of authors get together and post a few snippets from a WIP. It's fun, plus it lets the author know how well her work is progressing. This week's word is BLOOM...Feel free to leave a comment. Yes, authors love comments too...Hope you enjoy this weeks excerpt from a WIP, a paranormal titled A Cut Above the Rest.

Continuing the tale of the Gray sisters...

 Ginger Gray knew the moment she completed the infamous Y-cut down the center of the masculine chest stretched before her on the autopsy table, and the corpse opened its eyes—it was going to be a bad night at Gray Mortuary. “Oh my Aunt Fannie’s garters,” she declared in a slow Georgia drawl.
Unable to take her eyes off the splendid male body before her, she drew a quivering breath, then took a cautious step back from the fresh cadaver, a fresh cadaver, who was staring at her as if she was a fresh bloom waiting to be plucked. 
Gray Mortuary—where all things go bump in the night.
But this? This was impossible.
She swallowed back the urge to scream. Heck, it wasn't fair. She shouldn't even be here, let alone standing here gaping at a naked, blinking corpse. It wasn't happening. Her imagination must be working overtime, just like she was—or else that last glass of wine she indulged in at dinner before dear ole’ dad placed his call to her, contained more alcohol than she thought.
Nope, it was her imagination—else the freaking body had nerves twitching all over the place.
She blamed the twins. If they hadn't been determined to go to that blasted Halloween party, she’d be home curled up with a good Jaydyn Chelcee novel. She didn't know which twin placed the call to their father begging him for the rest of the night off and suggesting Ginger fill their shoes since she never had a date on Friday night, he caved, as usual.
“It’s my night off, damn it,” she shouted, purely in self-defense to no avail. She didn't know if she was screaming at the breathing corpse or the room in general.
It didn't matter if what her sister said was true and Ginger never had a date on Friday night, she still wanted and deserved her time off. But like her father, she always gave in when it came to the younger twins and their demands. They weren't bad girls. They weren't always selfish or expected things their way. Ginger snorted. No, what they expected was every weekend off!
They loved pulling practical jokes on her. This waking corpse was right down their alley, especially since it was Halloween. It was a joke. Yeah-yeah. Maybe one of her sisters, one of the other set of twins, either Scotlyn or Irelyn suggested this horrible prank to the younger twins and knowing them, they went along with the idea and decided to pull a fast one on her.
Scotlyn and Irelyn were two years younger than her. They were as big a pranksters as Kadence and Kennadee. They were probably inside this big old building in a room somewhere with a monitor and watching her reaction. 
She took a quick second to scan the room for a video camera but didn't spot one. They loved to catch her unaware and pull some crazy stunt, like the time they glued a brain to a tray. It didn't matter than the brain was fake. She thought it was real at the time.
Oh, but this was unacceptable.
She was a professional, and being one required a certain, a–a certain flair—a–a certain— “Oh! Oh, crap, don’t get up, Mister Corpse,” she cried, startled to see him rise and perch on the side of the autopsy table.
Ahh, but, Mister Corpse wasn't listening.
“I see dead people,” Ginger breathed. “I don’t see live people on my exam table. I never see live people on my exam table. They don’t blink their eyes. They don’t breathe. They don’t sit up.”
 Except for this one time—
RETURN TO TUESDAY'S TALES

Monday, July 14, 2014

TUESDAY TALES WIP!


TT_banner

Hello Readers,
This week's prompt is this glorious full moon. Continuing excerpts from last week's TT and one of my WIPs, let's find out what's happening to Ginger Gray in the infamous Gray Mortuary. Muhahahahah!



EXCERPT:
Kennadee poked her tongue out at her. “Spoilsport. Don’t you ever like to just have fun?”
“Now don’t look at me like that, Ginger Snap,” Kadence said, her pale green eyes sparkling with silent laughter.
Her sisters always called her Ginger Snap when they went into defensive mode.
“We couldn’t help seeing his bundle when we cut off his clothes,” Kadence continued. “I mean, there it was in plain view, big as a sausage roll.”
Ginger rolled her eyes. “Good grief. Just give me report and get out of here, both of you.”

Kennadee snickered. “We couldn’t miss it, sis. Honest.”
“He’s dead,” Ginger said, quickly losing patience. “Why would you want to look at a dead dick? It certainly won’t do either one of you a bit of good.”
“Don’t be gross,” Kennadee replied. “We were discreet and respectful, but the towel slipped off and there it was, big as life.”
Ginger snatched the clipboard from Kadence. “I doubt it was big as life since he has no blood flow to it, or, if you want to get technical, no life at all.”
“I’d sure love to see it when he did have blood flow,” Kennadee stated, slipping off her lab coat.
“Me, too,” Kadence added copying her twin and removing her lab jacket as well. They hung their white coats on a rack in the corner, grabbed their purses, and headed to the double doors. “Have a good night,” Kadence called.
Yes, have a good night,” Kennadee echoed. “And thank you for coming in and working the rest of our shift. We’ll say hello to everyone for you at the Halloween party.”
“Yeah, right,” Ginger mumbled with a touch of sarcasm. "Halloween and a full moon. Great combinations."

Return to Tuesday Tales



Saturday, July 12, 2014

BACK LIST SERIES BLOG HOP!


Good Morning Readers,
Welcome to the Back List Blog hop. Sorry I'm running late posting...Something always seems to go wrong at the last minute and for some weird reason, my blog page wouldn't open for me. But I'm here now and here is my back list from my Winslow Witches of Salem Series. Something nice to know--Book 1, Witches Brew, is now free and can be found at Amazon.com// For every reader who leaves a comment, I'll drop your name in the witch's hat and hold a drawing later on for a pdf of Witch's Heart, book 2 in the series.

BLURB/WITCH’S BREW/BOOK ONE/SHAY
Witches, wizards and magic!
Saylym Winslow regains forgotten magical powers, but is determined to ignore them. No way is she a witch; magic brings nothing but trouble. But when Talon, Waken Prince and assassin of witches is assigned to terminate Saylym by stealing her soul, she discovers being a real, spell-casting witch is only the beginning of her problems.
Talon is enchanted by Saylym's beauty and charm and refuses to do his duty. He is given a choice by the powerful Waken Guild: Handfast with the trouble making witch to keep her in line or they will send Drayke, the most ruthless waken assassin, to hunt her down.
Sparks fly in this bewitching battle of the sexes-witch-style.


BLURB: WITCH’S HEART/BOOK TWO/SHAY
Journey into a world where magic rules and death is the penalty for mistakes-return to the kingdom of Ru-Noc, where witches, wizards, and warlocks dwell. . .
Hannah Miller is starting over-new life, new location, and the grand opening of the Sugar 'N' Spice bakery with her best friend, Kirrah Walker. But Hannah soon discovers Sanctuary is not small town America. Trapped in a world of magic where humans are considered aliens-Hannah soon becomes the target of a waken assassin.
The male witch, Sage, is sent to terminate Hannah, the impertinent human who has dared to enter their sacred realm. Sage usually complies with the guild's orders, but he faces this assignment with dread. He hasn't forgotten what took place at the Salem witch trials in 1692 and has vowed to avoid all mortals-until he sees Hannah for the first time.
Caught up in the immortal conflict sweeping across Ru-Noc, the star-crossed lovers wage a different kind of war that set off more sparks than a witch's wand. . .
Fall under the spell of Witch’s Heart-where Sage and Hannah discover love has a magic all its own . . .





Back to the Hop here! //http://www.secretcravingspublishing.blogspot.com/
http://www.tabithashay.com

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