Jessica, thank you so much for having me as your guest today. You know my interest in anything odd--paranormal, myths, legends--all that is out of the normal boundaries. Reincarnation and chat with ghosts can be included, too. I’m thrilled to be here, and excited to share the cover for my incoming release!
Till Life Do Us Part By Carmen Stefanescu Publisher: Solstice Publishing Genre: Paranormal Romance Magic, Reincarnation, Mystery, Suspense Release date: 9th June 2016 Barbara Heyer can hear voices of dead people. They whisper of their deaths, seek comfort for those left behind, and occasionally even warn her about future events. But when Barbara’s brother, Colin, is accused of murder, it will take more than her gift to prove his innocence. Becoming smitten with the handsome investigator, Detective Patrick Fischer, is a serious complication given his assignment to her brother’s case. Barbara senses there is something far deeper—and perhaps much older—than the surface attraction between them. Could that be why she’s visited by a mysterious woman named Emma in her dreams? Could past life regression tie all the seemingly unconnected events together? Barbara and Patrick must overcome heartache to find the truth to save Colin, and perhaps themselves. Carmen Stefanescu resides in Romania, the native country of the infamous vampire Count Dracula, but where, for about 50 years of communist dictatorship, just speaking about God, faith, reincarnation or paranormal phenomena could have led someone to great trouble - the psychiatric hospital if not to prison. Teacher of English and German in her native country and mother of two daughters, Carmen Stefanescu survived the grim years of oppression, by escaping in a parallel world that of the books. She has dreamed all her life to become a writer, but many of the things she wrote during those years remained just drawer projects. The fall of the Ceausescu’s regime in 1989 and the opening of the country to the world meant a new beginning for her. She started publishing. Several of her poems were successfully published in a collection of Contemporary English Poems, Muse Whispers vol.1 and Muse Whispers vol.2 by Midnight Edition Publication, in 2001 and 2002. Her first novel, Shadows of the Past, was released in 2012 by Wild Child Publishing, USA. Carmen joined the volunteer staff at Marketing For Romance Writers Author blog and is the coordinator of #Thursday13 posts.
Balancing Act Shooting Stars Book 4 By K. Vale Release: June 27, 2016 Publisher: Liquid Silver Books Greg Dwyer and Kyrie Li are living the glorious couple life in New York City. Or are they? When struggling actor Kyrie lands a modeling job, he’s ecstatic to have extra cash to spend on his best-friend-turned-boyfriend. Of course, Greg is suspicious Anders Berglund, the gorgeous and androgynous Swedish cover model the designers love to pair with Kyrie, is after his man. And maybe Kyrie encourages a growing closeness with the guy? Greg is probably to blame if Kyrie is drawn to the openly gay and seriously beautiful Andy. With Andy, Kyrie can be himself, as loud and proud as he’s always been. But Greg’s sexuality stays firmly locked in the closest except when he’s with Kyrie’s supportive family or alone with the man he loves. To make matters worse, Greg’s out-of-touch mom meets with financial ruin and moves in with the couple, forcing him into the closet in his own home. Can Greg find a way to stand up to Mommy Dearest and win back a love he fought so hard to reach? He discovers the road to pride begins at home and with accepting oneself first. Otherwise, it’s just a dead-end street. Excerpt Chapter 1 Kyrie’s amazing day was about to get a cherry on top. He opened the apartment door to the rattle of keys on the other side. Greg’s mouth dropped open, eyes widening comically, but he spared a nervous glance for the empty hallway behind him before stepping swiftly over the threshold. He shut the door and locked it with a snap of the deadbolt. “Is it my birthday already?” Easing his work computer to the floor, Greg allowed the suit jacket draped over one arm to follow unceremoniously. As he loosened his tie, yanking the knot from side to side, his mahogany gaze did a similar zigzag down Kyrie’s exposed body. “This, my love, is just one of the outfits I was given today when I went for my Spectrum Spectacular callback.” Greg took in the full extent of Kyrie’s ensemble, what little there was of it, and his auburn brows lowered. Kyrie spun around to give him the complete picture, peeking back over his shoulder with a salacious lick of the lips. The white micro trunks and matching fishnet tank were his favorite parts of the ample cache he’d received. He’d been beyond excited for Greg to get home and see them. “Why would they...? You got the job?” A grin broke across Greg’s face, but the disapproval was still evident as he continued to eye Kyrie’s appearance. “I got the job! I got the job!” He grabbed Greg’s hands and pumped them up and down. “I’m modeling with Anders Berglund! Anders. Berglund! The Swedish supermodel! We’re partners for the No Black, No White shoot!” He clasped his hands together while the rest of his body vibrated with pent-up energy. Anders Berglund was gargantuan, his gorgeous face on nearly every magazine cover in the grocery store checkout aisle. Kyrie’s fairy godmother had waved a magic wand over him, and Greg just stood there with his forehead puckered. “Well?” Greg slid his arms around Kyrie, rubbing his back as if he were cold. “So…this is what you’re gonna be wearing?” “Maybe. Who knows? They gave us a few outfits to try on for size.” “This is not an outfit.” Greg rubbed the holey fabric between his fingers. Kyrie canted his head, eyebrows lifting as he delivered his best You’re kidding, right? stare. “This is only a sample. There will be all kinds of clothes at the shoot. I’m sure they’ll pick the best of the best after we’re done.” “Won’t posing half-naked hurt your acting career?” Kyrie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “No! Watch how many doors this opens. Just you wait.” “And this is for what? Gay rights or…something?” Kyrie ramped up the baleful expression. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said for the past month? It’s not just gay. It’s everything. A campaign to call attention to all shades of the sexual identity spectrum. We gays are pretty widely accepted these days, you might be surprised to know.” Greg’s arms stiffened around him, and Kyrie bit down on a sigh. Yes, we gays. Including you. Or maybe bi sits better, but you’ve been sticking it to a dude for almost a year and a half now. Time to officially join the not-so-straight club. Kyrie expelled a frustrated breath after all. “It’s a phenomenal thing to be part of, never mind the sweet paycheck I’ll be pullin’ in. Never mind that I’ll be working with Anders Fucking Berglund and how much visibility I’ll get out of it.” He squeaked, elation bubbling from him despite Greg’s muted response. “And I thought his first name was bad,” Greg groused, even as his fingers tested the thin mesh over Kyrie’s back and traveled lower. Kyrie freely admitted he was damned stunning in the getup. All the white clothing they’d given him popped against the brown skin he’d inherited from his mother. Conversely, Anders was the fairest lad in all the land. He had pale blond hair and porcelain skin, fractured only by startlingly dark eyebrows and a couple of highly fortuitous moles rumored to have launched his career. He’d be dressed in black and guaranteed to look amazing. Together…this was going to be fucking epic. “I thought you’d be proud of me.” Kyrie pouted, simultaneously arching his ass into Greg’s touch like a cat begging for attention. “Of course I’m proud of you. I just worry about…well—” “Everything?” Kyrie reached up to stroke Greg’s cheek, loving the feel of his trimmed beard and mustache combo. It could be soft, skimming over Kyrie’s nipples while Greg flicked a tongue and lit them on fire, or it could be coarse, bordering on harsh, as Greg went savage licking Kyrie’s ass and balls. Sure, that sort of thing was usually reserved for the times Greg had a few drinks on board and abandoned his inhibitions fully. But, oh God, when it happened… Kyrie’s dick swelled thinking about Greg’s tongue swirling over his asshole. “Want me to pour you a little whiskey to help you wind down after your hard—” he squeezed Greg’s cock through his suit pants, “—day, sexy?” Greg grunted and rocked his hips into Kyrie’s hand. “I can always use a little tension release.” His eyes, hooded, stared at Kyrie’s lips. He parted them slowly and dragged his tongue tip across his top teeth. “I think I have one of those stress balls around here somewhere.” Firm and fast, Greg hauled him flush against his chest and stole Kyrie’s breath. His fingers explored Kyrie’s ass crack—crude, demanding, bunching the satiny material between his cheeks before dragging lower to feather behind his nuts. “Think I found my two favorite stress balls right here.” Greg wore a wicked grin. “Trying to hide ’em on me?” He gathered the back of Kyrie’s tiny tight boxers, taking the wedgie to another level. He gasped and lifted on his toes. His sac was trapped, kinked up on one side of the seam almost painfully tight. Greg cupped Kyrie’s slung nuts, the touch so gentle it reminded him of ice over fire. Cool, crisp sheets after a day from hell. Kyrie loved being the seductive bottom, igniting Greg with his teasing and flirting, backing off while he simmered. Then Kyrie would stoke him higher, feeding the inferno until Greg eventually crumbled and became the domineering top. Usually they made the game last, pushing each other’s buttons in their own drawn-out version of foreplay. The sliver of pain slicing down Kyrie’s crack paired succulently with the throbbing wood pressed against his lower belly. All signs told him they were going straight to sudden death—no warm-up, no scrimmage, just hot, fast action. Game on. Bio K. Vale writes erotic romance of all stripes, from hot hetero to mouthwatering manlove. Find her M/F work published under Kimber Vale. Stalk Kimber on Facebook and Twitter, check http://authorkimbervale.com for updates, new releases, and freebies, and sign up for her newsletter to receive an exclusive free story. Come for the sex. Stay for the story.
I’m a big fan of profanity. Some people aren’t crazy about, but I fucking love it. I was one of those kids that makes parents uncomfortable; at age nine I had a vocabulary that wouldn’t have been too far out of place in the navy. It’s not that I had bad parents; my parents are great, they just had their priorities straight. Swearing was not at the top of their list of concerns, and they didn’t confuse it with lack of intelligence or disrespect. Profanity can’t be reduced to abuse or threatening language; it can also be used effectively for levity or, if you’re a writer, to inject some authenticity into your work (but we’ll get to that).
I like Stephen Fry’s take on swearing here:
It’s important to know how to swear properly. Nothing’s going to make you sound more awkward than dropping an f-bomb in an unnatural place. Likewise, all Americans should know how to say ‘twat’ properly (rhymes with cat. Trust me). Unfortunately, American profanity is relatively limited when compared to the colorful vocabulary of the British. As much as I’d like to use names like knob jockey or twat waffle in my books (I’m not being funny, I would LOVE to), these terms of endearment* are relatively new. Swearing, however, is not. It’s nice to imagine that people of bygone eras engaged in squeaky clean cap-doffing a la Mary Poppins and didn’t feel the need to use rude language (much less engage in rude activity), but that’s just not the case. You want proof? Let’s look at Captain Francis Grose’s 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue. While many of the words in here are not what we might consider profanity** and the phrases are largely bonkers, this book is a fantastic reference for any fan of history. 135 pages of cant and “vulgar language” cover everything from terms for flattery to fornication and include sixty-one words for prostitute.*** One common issue romance writers have in particular is finding historically appropriate euphemisms related to sex. If you’re writing a Regency or Georgian romance and you’re puzzling over another way to say throbbing member, the dictionary has you covered. Let’s take a look at some period terms for naughty bits. Penis Arbor Vitae Gaying Instrument Horn Colic (“temporary priapism”) Lobcock (“a large, relaxed penis or a dull inanimate fellow”) Matrimonial Peace-maker Piss-proud (“a false erection”) Plug Tail Prick Roger Pego Silent Flute Sugar Stick Tackle (also a mistress) Thomas Tool Whore Pipe Vagina Bite Carvel's Ring (“The private parts of a woman. Ham Carvel, a jealous old doctor, being in bed with his wife, dreamed that the Devil gave him a ring, which, so long as he had it on his finger, would prevent his being made a cuckold: waking he found he had his finger the Lord knows where.”) Cauliflower Cock Alley (or Lane) Commodity Crinkum Crankum Cunt Dumb Glutton Dunnock Eve's Custom-House Fruitful Vine Madge Man Trap Money Monosyllable Mother of All Saints Mother of All Souls Mother of St. Patrick Muff Notch Quim Rum Goods (“a maidenhead, being a commodity never entered”) Tu Quoque Tuzzy-muzzy Venerable Monosyllable Ware Water-mill Breasts Apple Dumplin Shop Cat Heads Dairy Diddeys Dugs Kettledrums Cupid's Kettledrums Chest and Bedding (sea term) Testicles Nutmegs Ballocks Bawbels Trinkets Cods Gingambobs Thingamabobs Tallywags Tarrywags Twiddle-diddles Wiffles (“a relaxation of the scrotum”) Whirlygigs
St. George. Raphael, 1504
Sex
Basket Making
Beast With Two Backs (to make the, from Shakespeare)
to Blow the Grounsils ("to lie with a woman on the floor")
to Dock
Dog's Rig ("to copulate until you are tired, then turn tail to it")
a Flyer (with clothes on)
to Give a Girl a Green Gown (sex in the grass)
to Grind
Hump (at this point an unfashionable term)
to Lay Cane Upon Abel (sex between men)
to Jock
Jockum Cloy
to Keep it Up (“to prolong a debauch, a metaphor drawn from the game of shuttle cock”)
to Knock
to Mow
to Occupy
Prigging
to Relish Riding St. George (“the woman uppermost in the amorous congress, that is, the dragon upon St. George. This is said to be the way to get a bishop.”) to Roger Rutting to Screw Shag State (“to lie in state; to be in bed with three harlots”) Strapping Stroke (“to take a stroke”) to Strum to Swive Tiffing to Tup Two Handed Put to Wap Arse Blind Cheeks Blind Cupid Bum Bumfiddle Ars Musica Cheeks Double Jugg (a man's arse) Pratts Round Mouth Wind-mill Masturbation To Box the Jesuit and Get Cockroaches (a sea term) Toss Off Condoms Mrs. Phillip's Ware Armor Machines Venereal Disease Blue Boar (“a venereal bubo”) Bube (see above) Burnt Clap Clapham House Covent Garden Ague Crinkums Drury Lane Ague Dumb Watch Fire Ship ("a wench with venereal disease") Flap Dragon (clap or pox) French disease Frenchified (to be infected with venereal disease) Job's Dock (“laid up in Job's Dock, after the ward for venereal patients in St. Bartholomew's hospital”) Peppered Pill or Peele Garlick (“someone whose skin or hair had fallen off from venereal disease”) Pissing Pins and Needles Poulain (French, a bubo) Scalder Shanker Venus' Curse
A Harlot's Progress, detail. Hogarth
Prostitute Petticoat Pensioner (a man, “one kept by a woman for secret services”) One of Us One of My Cousins Barber's Chair Bat Blowen Bunter Buttock Buttock and Twang Buttock and File (a prostitute who is also a pickpocket) Case Vrow Cat Cattle Convenient (usually a mistress or concubine) Covent Garden Nun Covey (plural prostitutes, a covey of harlots) Crack Curtezan Dirty Puzzle (a loose woman) Drury Lane Vestal Easy Virtue Family of Love (plural prostitutes or a religious sect) Fancy Man (kept by a lady for secret services) Fen Hedge Whore (one who works outdoors) Impure Laced Mutton Left-Handed Wife Madam (also used for bawd) Madam Ran Merry Arse Christian Miss Miss Laycock Mob Mab Moll Peculiar Proud Ledger Punk Trull Quean Queer Mort (“a strumpet with venereal disease”) Receiver General Rep Room (“she lets out her front room”) Short-Heeled Wench (“a girl apt to fall on her back”) Squirrel Stallion (a man kept by lady) Star Gazer (see hedge whore) Strumpet Tail Thorough Good-Natured Wench (“one who being asked to sit, will lie down”) Three-Penny Upright (one who works standing up) Town (a woman of) Trumpery Madam Van Unfortunate Women (as termed by other “polite” women) Wasp (“an infected prostitute, who like a wasp carries a sting in her tail.”) Wife in Water Colors (a mistress or concubine) Woman of Town Woman of Pleasure Brothel**** Academy Pushing School Bordello Buttocking Shop Cab Cavaulting School Corinth (likewise Corinthians are people who frequent brothels) Nanny House Nugging House Nunnery School of Venus Seraglio Smuggling Ken Snoozing Ken Vaulting School A few extra terms, just for fun: Duck Fucker (“man who has care of poultry on a ship”) Kiss Mine Arse ("An offer, as Fielding observes, very frequently made, but never, as he could learn, literally accepted.") Queer As Dick's Hatband ("out of order, without knowing one's disease") Smack (to kiss) Urinal of the Planets (Ireland, due to its frequent rain*****) Notes *I’m totally shitting you, these are not terms of endearment. Don’t call your gran a twat waffle! **Words we would consider profanity or at least rude such as fuck, arse, piss, whore, cock, etc are used by the author in definitions but he takes for granted the reader is familiar with these and he does not define them. ***It’s interesting to note that prostitutes are referred to affectionately and none of the terms used for them are really insults. The author’s contempt is reserved for celibate women, who are called Ape Leaders ("an old maid; their punishment after death, for neglecting increase and multiply, will be, it is said, leading apes into hell") and may suffer from Green Sickness ("the disease of maids occasioned by celibacy"). Equally, “whore” is not presented as an especially strong insult. Bitch is far worse. He says this is “the worst appellation that can be given to an English woman.” ****Notice how many of these are related to schools. Likewise, “college” was used to refer to prison, college being a natural progression from a school or academy. *****This book has an incredible number of derisory terms for the Irish...and Welsh, Scottish, Jewish, mixed-race, religious, and people from Boston.
The Master of Strathburn Amy Rose Bennett Escape Publishing (Harlequin) Release date: May 15, 2016
A sweeping, sexy Highland romance about a wanted Jacobite with a wounded soul,
and a spirited Scottish lass on the run.
Robert Grant has returned home to Lochrose Castle in the Highlands to reconcile with his long-estranged father, the Earl of Strathburn. But there is a price on Robert’s head, and his avaricious younger half-brother, Simon, doesn’t want him reclaiming his birthright. And it’s not only Simon and the redcoats that threaten to destroy Robert’s plans after a flame-haired complication of the feminine kind enters the scene... Jessie Munroe is forced to flee Lochrose Castle after the dissolute Simon Grant tries to coerce her into becoming his mistress. After a fateful encounter with a mysterious and handsome hunter, Robert, in a remote Highland glen, she throws her lot in with the stranger—even though she suspects he is a fugitive. She soon realizes that this man is dangerous in an entirely different way to Simon... Despite their searing attraction, Robert and Jessie struggle to trust each other as they both seek a place to call home. The stakes are high and only one thing is certain: Simon Grant is in pursuit of them both...
Amy Rose Bennett has always wanted to be a writer for as long as she can remember. An avid reader with a particular love for historical romance, it seemed only natural to write stories in her favorite genre. She has a passion for creating emotion-packed—and sometimes a little racy—stories set in the Georgian and Regency periods. Of course, her strong-willed heroines and rakish heroes always find their happily ever after.
Amy is happily married to her own Alpha male hero, has two beautiful daughters, and a rather loopy Rhodesian Ridgeback. She has been a speech pathologist for many years but is currently devoting her time to her one other true calling—writing romance.
The Long Way Home takes place in the court of Louis XIV during the Affair of the Poisons. During this period, many people from all walks of life were employing poison to dispatch with rivals and even family members to improve their fortunes or standing in court. As you can imagine, poison plays a large part in the plot of The Long Way Home. Here are three that are featured in the book along with symptoms so you’ll be first to know if your enemies have dosed your wine. You know, just in case.
Arsenic (also known as Inheritance Powder)
Arsenic was the most commonly used poison at this time, and was used alone or to add extra toxicity to other lethal concoctions. It was the primary ingredient in Inheritance Powder, so called because of the frequency with which it was against relatives and spouses for the sake of inheritance.
Tasteless as it was potent, arsenic usually went undetected in wine or food, although it was also added to soap and even sprinkled into flowers. It could easily kill someone quickly, but was more commonly distributed over a long period of time to make it appear that the victim was suffering from a long illness. The symptoms begin with headaches, drowsiness, and gastrointestinal problems, and as it develops, worsen into convulsions, muscle cramps, hair loss, organ failure, coma, and death.
Unusually for a poison apart from lead, arsenic has had many other common uses throughout history. It was used as a cosmetic as early as the Elizabethan period. Combined with vinegar and white chalk, it was applied to whiten the complexion as a precursor to the lead-based ceruse popular in later centuries.
Ad for Arsenic Wafers, 1896. Arsenic was a common complexion treatment until the early 20th century.
By the Victorian period, arsenic was taken as a supplement to correct the complexion from within, resulting in blueish, translucent skin (see above). Victorian and Edwardian doctors prescribed it for asthma, typhus, malaria, period pain, syphilis, neuralgia, and as a nonspecific pick-me-up. It was also used in pigments such as Paris Green, Scheele’s Green, and London Purple, all of them extremely toxic when ingested or inhaled. A distinctive yellow-green, Scheele’s Green was a popular dye in the nineteenth century for furnishings, candles, fabric, and even children’s toys, but it gave off a toxic gas. It may have even played a part in Napoleon’s death. While it took nearly a century to discover the dangers of the pigment, it was later put to use as an insecticide.
A Glass of Wine With Caesar Borgia. John Collier, 1893. From left to right: Cesare, Lucrezia, their father, Pope Alexander VI, and a young man with an empty glass. The implication is that the man doesn't know if it will be poisoned.
Cantharides (also known as Cantarella or Spanish Fly) Cantarella was a poison that was rumored to have been used by the Borgias (among others). Although it appeared in literature as something that could mimic death, cantarella was probably made from arsenic, like most of the common poisons of the era, or of canthariden powder made from blister beetles, and was highly toxic. Cantharides are now more commonly known as Spanish Fly. Although it was only rumored to have been used by the Borgias, it was definitely associated with the Medicis. Aqua Toffana, or Aquetta di Napoli, was a potent mixture of both arsenic and cantharides allegedly created by an Italian countess, Giulia Tofana (d. 1659). Colorless and odorless, it was undetectable even in water and as little as four drops could cause death within a few hours. It could also be mixed with lead or belladonna for a little extra f*** you. In case you’re wondering how one would catch enough blister beetles to do away with one’s enemies, cantharides were surprisingly easy to come across. They were also used as an aphrodisiac. In small quantities, they engorge the genitals, so it must have seemed like a good idea at the time. In larger quantities, however, they raise blisters, cause inflammation, nervous agitation, burning of the mouth, dysphagia, nausea, hematemesis, hematuria, and dysuria. Oh, and death. The powder was brownish in color and smelled bad, but mostly went unnoticed with food or wine. More than one character in The Long Way Home has come in contact with it, and it even plays a part in the story.
Ad for Pennyroyal Pills, 1905.
Pennyroyal Pennyroyal was not often used to intentionally poison anyone, but I’m including it in this guide because of its toxic effects. Usually drunk as tea, is was used as a digestive aid and to cause miscarriage. Is was also used in baths to kill fleas or to treat venomous bites. Although this is the least toxic of the bunch, the side effects are much more worrying. Taken in any quantity, it may not only result in contraction of the uterus, but also serious damage to the liver, kidneys, and nervous system. It’s a neurotoxin that can cause auditory and visual hallucinations, delirium, unconsciousness, hearing problems, brain damage, and death. Along with Inheritance Powder and Cantarella, Pennyroyal also appears in The Long Way Home and causes some interesting complications for a few of our characters.
*
All of these poisons were common and easily obtainable in much of Europe during the time this book takes place and as you can see, continued to be commonly used for a variety of purposes until very recently. The use of Inheritance Powder in particular is very well-documented and it played a huge part in the Affair of the Poisons as well as commanding a central position in The Long Way Home. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
