Monday, November 12, 2012

Monday Blues Promotion: November 12

Welcome back and Happy Monday! What's that you say? Happy and Monday don't go well in the same line? Hmm, maybe not.

So, Sunday was Veterans Day. The day we think about and thank the Veterans for keeping us free. Did you enjoy yours?  Do you know someone in your life that served in the armed forces?

So, today's theme:


You have the freedom to share an excerpt with me today! How does your character(s) live life to the fullest, to celebrate their freedom?  That's the theme for  the day.

Excerpts should be no longer than 750 words.  Give us the title, author name, and a link. It could be a buy link, or a link to your blog or website. Works in progress are welcomed.

Be free!


  1. In this excerpt from One Hour To Midnight, my current WIP, Veronica is struggling to find freedom from her unhappy past.

    See more on my website blog

    She huffed out an impatient breath.
    Someone solid and heavy knocked into her from behind and sloshed beer all over her breasts and down the front of her blouse. With a muttered curse, she dabbed at her chest with a tissue. A strong hand latched around her arm to steady her. She glanced up at the owner of that hand and the breath left her lungs in a resounding whoosh.
    Bereft of words, she gazed into once familiar grey eyes. Eyes she’d never expected to see again in this lifetime. In this dimly lit bar, they gleamed silver.
    Time crystallized into frozen stillness.
    "You're a hard woman to track down." Leon Karvasis leaned close to her ear so he didn’t have to shout.
    His deep voice caressed every sensory nerve into shocked awareness. Blood careened through her body. Veronica shivered as the heat of his breath stroked across her damp skin.
    The hairs on her arm stood to attention.
    She slid off the stool, the movement bringing her closer to his chest. A ragged breath filled her senses with a heady mix of pine scented cologne, smoke and male musk. She swallowed and tried to find her voice.
    "What are you doing here?" The words scraped past vocal cords almost paralysed with shock.
    "Looking for you."
    Someone jostled her and she lost her balance.
    He tried to steady her, but she fell against him anyway and time hung suspended. It was impossible not to notice that this hard body so close to hers belonged to a male in his prime, or that he too, was aware of her.
    For one brief, fantastic moment, she imagined that the past had never happened. But the fantasy faded as quickly as it surfaced. A fantasy in which the man standing oh-so-close to her was a stranger and she a woman he'd just met in a bar.
    Veronica stepped back into grim reality.
    The reality was that this man—and his wife—had ripped the heart from her body, without anaesthetic. And she was left to somehow get on with her life, without that vital organ.
    "I need to talk to you, Ricki," he said, grey eyes hooded and wary. "It's impossible here. Can we go somewhere quieter?"
    Fury surfaced, ripping away the veil of shock his presence triggered.
    "My name's Veronica," she said through clenched teeth. "As for going anywhere with you, do I look fucking stupid?"

  2. This story will be release on Thurs. 11/15/12 from Red Rose Publishing. Journey of the Princess of Ice- The Elementals is a graphic epic fantasy. It is the journey of a hero fighting for his freedom and the right to choose his own destiny running from his past and a heroine trying to find hers.

    Journey of the Princess of Ice-The Elementals
    by LaVerne Thompson

    From the moment she’d entered the room Arch tracked her movement, curious about her. When the young wizard at the bar spoke to her he found himself rising off the chair to go and rip his head off. He had to lower himself back into the seat and force himself to relax. Soon the notes of a horn filled the room from the music box and the female took the dance floor. Her back was to him but she pushed the hood off her hair and shook out her tresses. That organ in his chest sped up to push more fire through his blood.

    An ice maiden! Fucking impossible! Her kind had been gone from the realms for centuries. But the icicles hanging off the end of her waist-length blue and silver hair said otherwise. Then she began to sway and he forgot about everything else. The sight of her hips moving from side to side completely mesmerized him, when she turned around to face him he damn near shot his seed into the leather pants he wore. Bad enough his dick strained against the confines of its restrictions, causing him pain. So that’s what she had hidden under that coat. Curves where a woman should curve and a waist tiny enough for his hands to span from tip to tip. Damn, he whispered under his breath. Surprise, surprise.

  3. This is an Excerpt from Thirst of the Sea, released by Red Rose Publishing. Here Alaois is struggling to find freedom from his longing tempations of one he never thought he'd come in contact with...

    By Scarlet Hunter
    Buy link:


    Bolting past thick green branches and tree trunks at a vampire’s supernatural speed, Alaois swatted leaves and stems with his hands, determined on clearing the obstructions which kept him from pursuing the female’s scent. Hearing something off in the distance, he stopped and targeted its location. It was near. Without warning, a twig snapped, causing him to whip around in a flash of a second. His throat closed, ears instantly pounded as if any second blood would burst from within. There she stood before him. MINE!

    Dressed in a flowing platinum gown, she was an exquisite creature. Her long strands of pale hair, sparkled like diamonds, and fell in fluid waves well past her waistline. Some were even teased by winds from the approaching storm causing them to cover her succulent breasts. Alaois growled at the locks disrespectful placement shielding all of her perky mounds of flesh straining against the thin fabric of clothing. His hands suddenly craved to reach out, remove all that hid the beauty underneath and cup within his palms that which he achingly desired. With a lustful gaze, his drifted to meet hers and Holy Fuck, how crystal clear her eyes were. Their bodies froze as they stared at one another. Trying to find his voice, all while, his mind screamed inside his head.

    MINE…Take her…she is yours…why do you hesitate? Then his cock, damn it to hell, throbbed violently against the inside of his jeans from being concealed. It pleaded to be released from its confinement and introduced to her core and as quickly as possible. Swallowing hard, Alaois tried to regain his self-control and find some kind of inner gallantry, being rusty on the treatment of a beautiful female who shockingly provoked something tenderer from within. A feeling unusual and most unexpected, for no female in his lifetime had affected him in such a way.
    “My name is Alaios. What is your…” Alaois started to lean forward in a bow when a feverish swell of the glands inside his mouth exploded from a much stronger scent coming from her…Blood!
    WTF? Moving his gaze toward the drug scent, he spotted the reddish liquid of his one true survival dripping down the inside of the females arm and his whole body quivered. The bloodlust rose within him to take what flat out invited him over into temptation. Grinding his teeth, Alaois had to hold his breath, for any moment his body and mouth could easily seize upon this female prey, fully consuming that which was now being graciously offered before him. While this female would be nothing but food to others, his instincts told him so, yet all his senses shouted Mine. Protect!

    An internal battle to hold himself back raged, fearing he would hurt her; Alaois collapsed on his knees at her feet. He brought his hands up covering his face, shielding his exposed fangs and barked out for her to run. Perceiving her feet moving closer toward his frame, he did the only thing he could do. Alaois removed his hands from his face, glared up at her locking his pained eyes with her innocent ones and bared his fangs shouting out in a hiss of hunger. “I. SAID. RUN!”

  4. This excerpt is from my upcoming debut release, TAMING THE STALLION, due Jan 21,2013, from Crimson Romance. Raylie is a Peace Officer with a humane society, trying to free herself of not only her emotional woes, but the handsome, tycoon, horse-breeding suspect she desperately wants to arrest to secure that great promotion....

    Dorothy Callahan

    “I love my job, I love my job,” Raylie kept repeating as she opened the back door to her little pink heavily-draped Cape Cod, kicking off her urine-drenched uniform and tossing it down the cellar stairs. At least her sneakers were spared; wearing knee-high waders was the only way to survive Johanssen’s house.

    She heard her dog Cheddar moan as he dropped into his bed, even though she had water running in the pink sink. A handful of scratches; only two grazing bite wounds. All from cats. Either she was getting faster or Ms. Johanssen was beginning to enjoy their company. She scoured the wounds, and then hopped into the pink tub to shower.

    This time her thoughts were not on her dreams but the reality behind them. Mr. Lyre— Ashton—had seemed so genuine, so truthful. Anguish had defined him. And he had already reported the deaths of his horses to the cops. One call had confirmed that. Of course, if he was poisoning his own stock for the money, he would’ve had to have filed a police report. Which would mean samples, evidence, attorneys, yadda yadda. Which would mean whatever drug Mr. Lyre used to kill them would disappear without a trace. Which would mean premeditated insurance fraud.

    She washed again, this time with a scented soap, since she was still not convinced she was clean. Then she wrapped up in a towel and headed for the smaller bedroom just beyond.

    The double bed filled the room, a white elephant reminding her of how life had been with Derrick, even while tending to his mama. Angela had had the big room up front, and though empty, Ray could hardly even crack open the door without seeing Derrick’s mom suffering through those final stages.

    The oxygen tank was gone. The medicines were gone. Every personal item of Angie’s was gone.

    But not the memories.

    Never the memories.

    She had willed the house to her only son and his fiancée, and when Derrick died, Ray had taken over hospice. She gave too much at work. Too much at home. Everything inside her had been sucked out until only the most fragile of shells encased her.

    And when Angie slipped away, Humpty Dumpty fell.

  5. Hi, Nikki, This is from "BREAKING THE RULES" an erotic short story abt having the freedom to break the rules: A working girl who learns you have to ask for what you want.

    At work...or in bed.


    She smelled his scent before she saw him. Black leather soaked with a man's sweat, emitting a muskiness with a hint of citrus. Sweet and sticky.

    Elaine froze at her laptop when the hunk wearing the black leather vest whisked by her in the coffeehouse and yanked her power cord loose with his muddy boot. Her screen went darker than an ebony night and her coffee cup shimmied back and forth like a kewpie doll.

    The web page disappeared like it was sucked into a black hole.

    Damn him. The nerve of the man. So what if he was tall with a strong jaw and broad shoulders? He wasn’t her type. Look at him. Dark and stormy, and filled with a wild streak like the critters roaming untamed through the dense woods in these back hills.

    McNally’s Corner.

    A way station back in the day for trappers and settlers heading west. Population around eighteen hundred when you counted the hogs and chickens. A small town doing its best to survive the economic downturn. And barely hanging on.

    Like Elaine. Living on her meager salary and peanut butter sandwiches, she’d come home to put the pieces back together after a painful breakup.

    Which meant no distractions from a guy with eyes so blue he could make a girl wet her pants with a hard stare.

    Wait, did I say that?

    Okay, think that, but she couldn’t help it. The last time this town had any excitement was when bootleggers came down from the hills fired up on corn liquor and packing shotguns. This stud was packing, too, she noticed. A six-shooter in his jeans, and not the kind that shot silver bullets. Not that she was interested. Still, clamping her legs together tight like an oyster protecting its pearl was a dead giveaway to her uneasiness.

    Hunk Alert. Warning. Danger Ahead.

    What was wrong with her? Acting like she was the town hussy in an old soap opera. She lifted her chin. Not her. Elaine was a play-by-the-rules girl. She liked square peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts cut off. She preferred her men also square. Button-down collars and single-pleated trousers. Corporate guys who texted their sexy intentions, not grunted like a bare-chested warrior in need of a haircut. She knew the type. Here today, gone on his Harley tomorrow.

    No one-night stands for her.

    Especially with a guy who had his primal moves down to a T.

    Muscular arms. Spot-on smile that made her curl her toes. Bulge in his pants that left no doubt pulling out her power cord was no accident.

    “I spent an hour filling out that job application,” Elaine said, letting go with an angry growl. Her precision-wired brain screamed at the loss. “All that work…gone.”
    She should have kept her mouth shut, let him move on, but she didn’t. A fire erupted in her belly, surprising her. Maybe it was the late hour or maybe it was because she was sick of peanut butter sandwiches, but she decided to play his game. If only to break up the monotony and frustration of filling out her last five years of employment for the tenth time.

    She unclamped her legs, her bold gesture inviting him to find her pearl. All shiny. And oozing with salty sea juices.

    So you wanna play? her look said. Her steadfast gaze locked with eyes that waited to see what she’d do. Waited with the arrogance of a man who liked a challenge.

    Instead he smiled, nodded an apology.

    “Sorry, miss, I didn't see your cord.” He bent down and adjusted the cable. His sly grin made her close her legs again. Tighter this time. Look at him, will you? I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a good peek up my skirt.

    He kept grinning, turning on the charm and not letting her go. Stroking the cable cord like it was a woman’s body. Up and down with an icy coolness. As if the cord were a burning fuse leading straight to her-

    She never felt more exposed in her life.
    Breaking the Rules on Amazon