Flying on one Wing

Source: 3.bp.blogspot.com via Lauren on Pinterest

Hello all... Sable Angel here. This is going to be quite brief. I'm so sorry I can't write any more but last week I had an accident on my motorcycle and broke my arm. I promise to update you when the bones have healed.

Fly safely.

Cliff Hanger Saturday Just Like the Matinees of Old

Source: myfavoriteandmybest.blogspot.com via Chris on Pinterest

Cliff Hanger Saturday is a place where you can post your favorite "cliff hangers" of all time or just good writing at the end of the scene. (if not your own work, please give credit to the author and the book.) We all know, a scene should not end with anyone going to sleep. YAWN. But sometimes we see this. If the characters go to sleep, so do we.

So share favorites or write one here.

I have been posting excerpts for advertising and Rogue Phoenix Press. If you are writing an excerpt for something make sure that excerpt ends making the reader turn the page and read on. Do we want the reader up all night? Of course we do.

From my soon to be released, the revised Rebel Heart first book in the Earth and Wind series.

"What lesson is that?" Savage's deep masculine voice rose on the intercom. "Deceit?"

"Damn..."

Nessa swiftly leapt to the computer, flipping off the intercom. "Damn..." Nessa echoed.

Tori closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. "What do you suppose he heard?"

"Everything--nothing. But you can be sure he's curious and he's going to make sure he finds out why the intercom suddenly went dead."

"He will think it was an electronic failure."

"I doubt that."

"He'll believe it. It's a reasonable enough explanation."

"I suppose you're right," Tori agreed. The silence that followed was all that was needed. They both understood. They understood because Cameron Savage should not have been able to tap into the top-level security unannounced, and somehow he had.

Friday's Featured Title

Read Excerpt

Shattered Tomorrows

C. L. Kraemer

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 

Staring at the reflective elevator door, I didn't recognize the middle-aged face staring back at me.

When had I grown so old? When had gray become the dominant color of my dark brown hair? And please, tell me, where the hell had I picked up those doggie jowls?

Cassie Thorpe, my best friend since, well, what seemed forever, looked into the reflection.

"What are you doing?" She cocked her head in that funny way she always does when she's questioning my sanity. This time she added crossed arms and a hitched eyebrow. 

"Wondering how age snuck up and attacked me without my knowledge." I peered at my likeness, my finger tracing a line from my nose to my chin around what used to be a full voluptuous mouth.

"Oh, God."

I watched Cassie roll her eyes as she uncrossed her arms and adjusted the purse on her shoulder. She shook her head and blew air between her lips. 

"Lucy, just schedule a face lift. I told you I'd front you the money."

The elevator had reached the top floor of the Equitable Building in downtown Salem. The interior had recently undergone a major renovation and featured Italian marble in most of the lobby and down the hallways. Small areas of plush carpet covered the remainder of the floor. The new owners had muted the government gray walls with a faux Tuscan-inspired paint, adding art deco sconces to the walls. Bronze lamps hung from the cathedral ceiling adding a touch of elegance to the lobby area. Dark leather couches and chairs placed in comfortable conversation settings invited the visitor to stop and admire the effect. Every effort had been made to rid the visitor of the government feel of the square, granite and smoked-glass building.

"Where are we going again?" I followed Cassie out of the lift toward a hallway that wound to sculpted, cherry-stained office doors bearing the gold suite number.

She placed a hand on the gold-plated door handle and turned as she spoke to me. "My lawyer. Bobby's balking about handing over the chalet at Mt. Bachelor."

"Oh."

We entered an office painted in muted tones of blue. The money invested in the cherry wood desk occupied by the receptionist would've paid for that facelift Cassie had offered. The blue-gray guest couches were satiny soft and comfortable.

Speaking into her silver, state-of-the-art headset, the pencil-thin blonde at the desk announced Cassie.

I hadn't even transferred the latest issue of People magazine to my lap when a door, magnificently blended into the cool blue wall opened revealing a young man wearing a fitted, black Baroni suit. A Rolex peeked from beneath the sleeve of a silk dress shirt and Gucci loafers covered his feet. He lifted a manicured finger and beckoned us into the inner sanctum.

I would've been happy to stay and read the most recent dirt on the latest it couple, but Cassie dragged me behind her. My feet sank into the carpet. I swear. It was like walking on that miracle foam bedding. I turned to see if I'd left my footprints. Cassie cleared her throat and shook her head. 

I shrugged my shoulders and stood awkwardly, waiting for permission to seat myself. 

The young man moved around the L-shaped desk made of Koa wood and seated himself in a large steel-blue leather chair. He motioned us to sit in the two upholstered chairs in front of his monstrosity of a desk as he perched straight backed and rigid in the chair. Behind him an impressive ten foot tall, thirty foot long array of silver gray curtains waved slightly with the breeze from the rising warmth of the heater.

Once we were all settled and our roles firmly established, he moved to the front of his desk to languidly lean on the edge. Grasping Cassie's hand, he placed a delicate kiss on the top of it, his steely eyes gazing into her chocolate brown ones.

"What can I… do for you?"

Cassie pulled a deep, shuddering breath in and blew out slowly.

"Donald, I hope you don't mind if my best friend Lucy sits in on this." She batted her eyes at him. "I think I'll need her before we're done."

Donald, I guessed that was his name, nodded his head so slightly at me I wasn't sure if I was being acknowledged or if he was flexing his neck muscles. 

"Ma'am."

Okay. That's it; I've had enough. No one condescends to me. I don't have to take this.

I started to rise but stopped halfway up when Cassie laid a hand on my arm.

"Lucy, please? For me?"

What I do for my friends… I sat back down and folded my arms. This had better be good.

"If you are looking for a good fast paced read this is the story for you.  The drama jumps right to the chase without all the beginning tedium, but even with the fast start, you still get a chance to connect to the characters."  Courtney Rene for Rogue's Angles

Buy now : http://www.roguephoenixpress.com/

Thursday's Weekly Check In

Source: Uploaded by user via Chris on Pinterest

This is the Rogue's Angels weekly check-in. Every Thursday we encourage the Angels and visitors to let us know how their writing is going.

How well are you doing?

Had problems this week? That's ok. Just sit down this coming week and write. Whatever you do, don't let difficulties from the week before get in your way this week.

Every word is one word closer to the finished product.

Had a great week? Keep it up, the momentum is on your side.

I am working on galleys for Rebel Heart. I'm about a third of the way through and hope to finish by Sunday or Monday. My cover is almost finished so I'm going to have to connect with coffee time about the promo I bought in March. My WIP is not progressing except in my head. I will get back to it when I finish galleys.

EVERYDAY MIRACLES

My everyday miracle this week is that I'm still breathing--well, for the most part!

The second book of my LEGACY series, LEGACY OF ANGELS, will be released on May 1--less than a week away.

I run a gamut of emotions as release day nears. Excitement that another of my "babies" is being born into the world. Panic that I don't have everything done yet that I wanted to. Doubts about whether anyone will want to read the book. Pride that I finished another book and still love the story and the characters after all those revisions.

Amazement that my mind can plot and create to come up with 40,000 or more words that form a coherent story.

In that way, I see any book as a miracle. Anyone who puts hands to keyboard and creates a story is creating a miracle. Whether that books sells one copy to the author or climbs to the top of a bestseller list, each book is a testament to the creative miracle of the human mind.

Once that book is in the hands of readers, another miracle occurs. If you have been able to read since you can remember--like me--reading is another miracle I take for granted until I stop to think about it. Then I am once again humbled. Not just that my eyes and brain are able to read and comprehend, but for those who taught me to read and wrote books to read. Wow!

So authors and readers, I hope you take a moment to appreciate the miracles you have created and are able to enjoy!

Please Welcome Leah Petersen author of Fighting Gravity

Please welcome author Leah Petersen author of Fighting Gravity.

PRIZE INFORMATION

The author will be giving away at least one (possibly more) hand-knitted by her replicas of the symbol of the IIC (an important institution in the book) to randomly drawn commenters during the tour.

Fighting Gravity

by Leah Peterson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

INTERVIEW




1. What or who inspired you to start writing?

I guess it depends on what qualifies as “started writing.” I wrote a lot as a kid. I read a lot, and I don’t really remember “starting” to write, just that I was already doing it.

At some point, I stopped the actual writing part and mostly kept to myself the stories in my head. A few years back I was trying to tell my husband the whole novel-length story of FIGHTING GRAVITY and he asked “why don’t you just write it?” So he was the one who got me restarted.

2. What would you want your readers to know about you that might not be in your bio?

About me? You’re going to make me pick just one thing? OK, let me see. I’m a gamer. I have a huge weakness for online role playing games and it’s a horrible time waster for me. If I ever become one of those authors who takes years to finish the next book in the series, it’s probably because I’m spending all my writing time conquering some virtual world.

3. As far as your writing goes, what are your future plans?

To keep writing. Not really any more detailed than that. Just to get some momentum started with FIGHTING GRAVITY, both momentum in actually writing, and in selling books.

Maybe someday it will support me. But that’s not what drives me. I just like sharing the stories and I don’t want “fame” so much as for people to know I’m out there so they’ll find the books.

4. If you could be one of the characters from this book, who would it be and why?

I think I’m a bit of a masochist because I’d probably choose to be Jake, my main character. Which is crazy because he’s got the hardest time of it. The smart answer would be to choose to be the Emperor.

5. Can you give us a sneak peek into this book?

Other than excerpts that are fairly easy to find, I think something interesting to know about the story is that it takes place in a future earth, and I always like seeing where other people take our future. What changes, and what doesn’t, how the things that rock our society now get resolved. In the future I created for FIGHTING GRAVITY, sexual preferences don’t concern anyone but the people involved. The scandal isn’t that the Emperor openly takes a male lover, but that his lover is from the lowest class in society. And that’s a Bad Thing.

6. Do you belong to a critique group? If so how does this help or hinder your writing?

I don’t belong to a formal group, but I’ve built up a group of critique partners I work with. Their input is vital to me because they are individuals I’ve worked with enough to trust their opinions and insights. I don’t always take their advice, especially advice only one of the five or so gives me, but in aggregate they’ve been a big part of my growth as a writer.

I think it helps too that most of them don’t know each other, so there’s no group dynamic where people might keep an opinion to themselves when they see it’s unpopular, or support a bad idea because of who put it forward.

7. When did you first decide to submit your work? Please tell us what or who encouraged you to take this big step?

I knew from the first word of Fighting Gravity that I wanted to share the story with everyone. That was the point of writing it. I didn’t begin to research the industry and how to go about getting published until I was finished with it, but I’d already “written” the story before I set pen to paper. Actually putting all the words together into one document only took me about three months and that was at the aforementioned sort of afterthought-encouragement from my husband to just write it.

Then, riding the excitement of that “oh, I want to tell everyone about this book I just read” feeling, I waded into the whole agent seeking process, since “that book” was the one I’d just written. Getting it published was a necessary step in the “tell everyone” bit. It took me about a year between first starting to test the waters to when I had an offer.

8. What is the best and worst advice you ever received? (regarding writing or publishing)


Best was that there’s no universal truth about how to be a writer the “right” way. Some people will tell you that you MUST write each day to be considered a “real” writer, but that sort of rigidity kills my creative spirit. Once I gave myself permission to write in a way that worked for me, it was easier and produced a better product. So the best advice was to ignore anyone who wanted to tell me I was doing the writer-thing wrong.

Worst would be the sentiments from some aspiring authors along the lines of ignoring everyone else’s input on your writing and ‘staying true to your vision’ or similar, by which they really meant ‘I don’t want to be told that anything I have done isn’t perfect and might need to be changed.’


9. Do you outline your books or just start writing?

I just start writing. I’ve come around to the necessity of some planning, but it’s always loose and flexible. For me, an outline for a novel will be no longer than a page.

10. How do you maintain your creativity?

Daydreaming mostly. Reading, watching movies in my genre, even gaming. Actually, I get a lot of ideas from role playing games because it’s easier to visualize the character’s story when you’re playing it out.

1. 
   

BLURB:

When Jacob Dawes is Selected for the Imperial Intellectual Complex as a child, he’s catapulted from the poverty-stricken slums of his birth into a world where his status as an unclass is something no one can forget, or forgive. His growing scientific renown draws the attention of the emperor, a young man Jacob’s own age, and they find themselves drawn to each other in an unlikely, and ill-advised relationship. Jacob may have won the emperor’s heart, but it’s no protection when he’s accused of treason. And fighting his own execution would mean betraying the man he loves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 READ AN EXCERPT

After dinner, a servant summoned me to the emperor. This was now twice in as many nights. Was it about something I’d said the night before? That stupid ring?

I was led to where the emperor was talking with the ship’s captain in one of the hallways.

“Good evening, Mr. Dawes. I see you survived the lift-off.” He walked as he spoke, gesturing for me to accompany him.

“It was an incredible experience, Excellence. This is a nice ship you have.”

“Thank you. It’s not a new ship, there was no time for that. But many things were upgraded, the engines included. They’re the best of the best, I’m told. I thought about you during the lift-off. I wondered what you’d make of it.”

“You did?” I asked, stunned.

“Is there something wrong with that?” he asked, his mouth twisted in what looked like amusement but was probably something more dangerous to me.

“No, sir. I guess not…”

“Does it bother you?” He seemed to be teasing me again.

“Some,” I answered.

He stopped. “Why?”

“Because I’m afraid of you.”

He laughed, and started down the hallway again. But after a sideways glance at my face, he quieted. “You really mean that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” His answer was soft, subdued, even. I got the distinct impression that I’d hurt his feelings.

“You must get that all the time.”

“I do,” he answered, but didn’t look at me. I was more and more sure that I’d offended him somehow.

“So why should it matter, then, Excellence?”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I should be used to it. Of course, no one ever comes out and says it in so many words. It’s a bit of a shock to hear it confirmed like that.”

He stopped again, facing me, a slight furrow between his eyes that I would have called uncertainty, even vulnerability, if I hadn’t known who he was. “Why are you afraid of me?”

“Who wouldn’t be afraid? You can do anything you want with my life and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

The furrow deepened and he waited, as if I hadn’t explained myself at all.

“You uprooted my life a couple of weeks ago, who knows what you might do tomorrow?”

“You mean, you didn’t want this assignment?” he asked.

Apparently I wasn’t frightened enough to keep my mouth shut. “I want to be here,” I pointed to the ship around us, “but I didn’t want to be reassigned, no.”

“Mr. Dawes...” He hesitated. “I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

I shrugged but didn’t look at him.

“Would you like to be assigned back to the IIC?”

“Yes, Excellence.”

“Then you will be.” He started walking again, gesturing to me to accompany him. My stomach was jittery. I couldn’t believe what I’d just said. But he wasn’t reacting like an angry sovereign. He was acting like just another guy whose feelings were hurt.

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” I tried.

He turned to me. “Actually, you have no idea how much I appreciate your honesty.”

There was no reason for me to believe he was lying or just being diplomatic—and I couldn’t imagine why he would try to spare my feelings—but that didn’t make me feel much better. I was still on edge, certain I’d said far too much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Leah Petersen lives in North Carolina. She does the day-job, wife, and mother thing, much like everyone else. She prides herself on being able to hold a book with her feet so she can knit while reading. She’s still working on knitting while writing.

FIGHTING GRAVITY is her first novel.

Twitter: http://twitter.com/LeahPetersen

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LeahPetersenAuthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/leahpetersen

Google+: http://profiles.google.com/leahpetersen

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/lpetersenauthor/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PRIZE INFORMATION

The author will be giving away at least one (possibly more) hand-knitted by her replicas of the symbol of the IIC (an important institution in the book) to randomly drawn commenters during the tour.

Spring Day at Long Last

Source: tumblr.com via Mari on Pinterest

Well, we are looking at an 80 degree day. This after snow in March and tons of rain. I am truly looking forward to a little bit of gardening and playing with the granddaughter outside.

I've started work on an erotic fantasy novel. And I'm happy to say I have written eight pages. I hope to finish chapter 1 today and tomorrow begin chapter 2.

I am learning so much about promotion and I'm still trying to get my name out to the masses. I know, I know this is not how did your week go, but I'm not really blog motivated today.

Hope all the angels and everyone else reading this blog has a beautiful sunny day.

Cliff Hanger Saturday Just Like the Matinee's of Old

Source: allposters.com via Chris on Pinterest

Cliff Hanger Saturday is a place where you can post your favorite "cliff hangers" of all time or just good writing at the end of the scene. (if not your own work, please give credit to the author and the book.) We all know, a scene should not end with anyone going to sleep. YAWN. But sometimes we see this. If the characters go to sleep, so do we.

So share favorites or write one here.

I have been posting excerpts for advertising and Rogue Phoenix Press. If you are writing an excerpt for something make sure that excerpt ends making the reader turn the page and read on. Do we want the reader up all night? Of course we do.

From my soon to be released, the revised Rebel Heart first book in the Earth and Wind series.

"DeMontville."

He turned. "It is your day to die."

A bullet ripped into the chest and as he put up his hands to defend himself another struck him in the back. The world spun crazily as he  groped at the handrail, trying to pull himself up to confront his assassin.

Tori—Nessa—Lady DeMontville—his eyes closed and he fell.

Friday's Featured Title: Rekindled Love by Rosemary Indra

Cinnamon's Rekindled Love is a wonderful firefighter story and sweet romance.

Read an Excerpt

Rekindled Love

Rosemary Indra

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 3

Buy at   www.roguephoenixpress.com

He saw no one as he made his way up the incline to the dilapidated storage shed. Situated on the edge of an older residential area, the structure he’d picked was perfect. The weathered building appeared vacant, and a large empty lot separated the shack from the nearest house. He pushed opened the unlocked wooden door and removed the backpack full of supplies from his shoulders.

After wiping his sweaty palms on his pant legs, he opened two small containers and sloshed the liquid on the wooden floor. Soon the pungent aroma of gasoline filled the room. He placed the igniter in a bed of steel wool then attached the wires to the small batteries and the timer. After picking up his backpack, he hurried from the shed closing the door behind him.

He glanced in both directions. Confident no one was in the area, he walked up the dead end street. His heart hammered in his chest. Ignoring his trembling hands, he removed a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. After he flicked his lighter, he stared at the bluish-yellow flame. Excitement raced through his veins.

A foggy mist hugged the ground and darkness shrouded the sleepy little town. Despite the wetness from the damp, January air, he crouched at the edge of the trees across from his target and waited.

He pulled a long drag on his cigarette then checked his watch. Two minutes before the hour. He’d completed his work on schedule. He had everything under control. Nothing would stop him. With the heel of his shoe, he ground out the butt.

The ignition flared to life. Shattering glass and splintering sounds of wood interrupted the stillness. Debris shot in every direction. "Damn," he muttered as he covered his ears with his hands, blocking the pressure from the explosion. The detonation was more powerful than he’d anticipated. The flames were clearly visible through the gaping hole in the side wall. No alarms, no security, and no advance warning. Everything had gone according to his plan. His gaze locked on the growing flames.

"Fire! Fire!" A man pounding on a neighboring house drew his attention down the street. "There’s a fire over there. Call 911," the Good Samaritan shouted as he pointed up the street.

He didn’t plan for anyone to discover the fire until it was too late. He needed more time. The firefighters would destroy his masterpiece.

In the distance, the fire alarm clanged to life at the station. Within minutes, he tuned into the sound of sirens growing louder with the approaching trucks.

Anxiously, he looked at the shed. A smile formed on his lips when he noticed the flames reach the top of the window frame. Hopefully, the fire would finish the building before the crew arrived. He drummed his fingertips against his forehead.

Red lights from the approaching trucks flashed, brightening the pre-dawn darkness. He didn't intend to stay once the crew disembarked. On second thought, he'd enjoy watching their futile efforts to extinguish his creation.

Definitely not your normal run of the mill romance novel. On the whole a very good book and well worth reading.

Orchid for Long and Short Reviews

Join the Weekly Check In

Source: theanthropologist.net via Chris on Pinterest

This is the Rogue's Angels weekly check-in. Every Thursday we encourage the Angels and visitors to let us know how their writing is going.

How well are you doing?

Had problems this week? That's ok. Just sit down this coming week and write. Whatever you do, don't let difficulties from the week before get in your way this week.

Every word is one word closer to the finished product.

Had a great week? Keep it up, the momentum is on your side.

I've finished my edits to Rebel Heart. It is just about ready to go. A few little details left as well as galleys. For a while I wasn't sure it would make it's June 20th pub date but now I know it will. Congratulations to MomJane the winner of her name in my book. She will be the high priestess Janellen. A character who is beautiful but devious.

EVERYDAY MIRACLES CAN BUILD SLOWLY

Copyrighted photo

Like many women, I wear a lot of different hats: writer, graphic designer, dog lover, mom, grandma, daughter, landscaper, house remodeler--to name a few. About a year and a half ago, I was in a situation where I had to finish some major remodeling projects to refinance my house. This wasn't a nice-to-do, buy-some-pretty-pillows-for-the-couch project, but a finish-the-bathroom/utility room/kitchen or lose-your-house situation. There was no money to hire help, and my usual almost-free assistants weren't available. I had to do it myself. Panic tried to capture me in its numbing talons a number of times, but I didn't have time for it. I had to keep nailing and grouting and painting. Yes, I pulled this off. Thanks to celestial support and the adrenaline rush from avoiding those Talons of Panic. 

I came out of that experience with some lessons. The biggest one was a feeling of confidence in myself and my abilities. Under intense pressure, a miracle occurred. 

Another lesson was I don't ever want to go through that again. Some people may be scratching their heads saying "duh." But this is a lifestyle change for a procrastinator like me who built a reputation for pulling off last-minute jobs when I was working in an office as a graphic designer. Doing that may be a boost to the ego at first, but when the adrenaline edge wears off and exhaustion sets in, the personal cost becomes clear. 

So another lesson I'm still learning is to enjoy a slow-building miracle. Plan a landscape remodel for a narrow section of my yard and do the work over several days instead of one afternoon. Or take several weeks to edit a book and deepen the emotional stakes. Readers will appreciate the story. 

Do you have any slow-building miracles in progress? 

Tuesday's Temptation

Source: saveur.com via Erica on Pinterest

tempting chocolate recipes. Even though I'm not a chocolholic like many, I do enjoy my chocolate once in  a while. This brownie recipe looked pretty tempting.

Some others were:

Source: realsimple.com via Linda on Pinterest

I always like a little ice cream with my chocolate.

Source: joelens.blogspot.com via Alina on Pinterest

Love See's Candy's truffles.

Source: tappocity.com via Stan on Pinterest

A TAXING EXPERIENCE

I mailed my taxes on Friday the 13th. My lucky day, I guess. 

I have many excuses why I didn't get this done earlier, but once I focused on this task, it was done fairly quickly. 

Always looking for lessons in what happens in my life, I asked myself why I had stalled so long. Why did I put off something that would cause stress at the last minute? 

This isn't the first task I've procrastinated about, then done with a burst of determination at the eleventh hour. Afterward, as the adrenaline drains from my system, I'm exhausted. 

I know if I would have immediately input expenses and income in into my databases, which are already conveniently set up, the task would have been so much easier and less stressful. 

So why do I put these things off? And does it really matter? 

The lesson I learned from this is the need to form a habit of doing tasks as they arise so I don't have the last minute crazies and then exhaustion. Starting with this blog post. It's not 2:00 a.m. on posting day, but the post is done and will be pre-scheduled. Hooray! 

Now on to the next task. Because even angels have lessons to learn and tax forms to fill out. :)

Chliff Hanger: Just Like the Matinees of Old

Source: bing.com via Chris on Pinterest

So I have discovered and fallen in love with Infinity Pools. This has to be cliff hanging at its best.

Cliff Hanger Saturday is a place where you can post your favorite "cliff hangers" of all time or just good writing at the end of the scene. (if not your own work, please give credit to the author and the book.) We all know, a scene should not end with anyone going to sleep. YAWN. But sometimes we see this. If the characters go to sleep, so do we.

So share favorites or write one here.

I have been posting excerpts for advertising and Rogue Phoenix Press. If you are writing an excerpt for something make sure that excerpt ends making the reader turn the page and read on. Do we want the reader up all night? Of course we do.

From Rebel Heart Earth and Wind series coming soon. (The name might be changed)

All too soon, he strode the steps to the third floor, his mind in a fog. He put his hand to his head feeling dizzy. 

"DeMontville."

He turned. "It is your day to die."

A bullet ripped into the chest and as he put up his hands to defend himself another struck him in the back. The world spun crazily as he  groped at the handrail, trying to pull himself up to confront his assassin.

Tori—Nessa—Lady DeMontville—his eyes closed and he fell.

Friday's Featured Title: The Look of Love by Rosemary Indra

The Look of Love by Rosemary Indra also known as Cinnamon Angel

Read an Excerpt

The Look of Love by Rosemary Indra

Excerpt Heat Level 1

Book Heat Level 3

Buy at:  www.roguephoenixpress.com

The pager on her waistband sounded a moment before Penny heard the city's alarm sound. Her sense of duty and the need to help others pulled her back into the station to answer the call. "One vehicle off the road-milepost two on Oak Knoll Road." Penny read her pager out loud.

Once she put on her turnouts, she jumped into the engine. That's why she was there. After years of working at the bank, she'd gone back to school and became a paramedic. She wanted to help others and make a difference. Joining the fire department was the best way to honor Jim's memory.

Scott got into the officer's seat in front of her. She wondered if she should get out. Catching her reflection in the window, she straightened her turnout and renewed her fortitude. They'd shared a few kisses. Nothing more. The passion his kiss ignited was best forgotten. If he was uncomfortable with the situation, he could get into the other vehicle.

She ignored the usual chatter in the engine cab as other firefighters joined them and they drove to the accident. A pickup truck rolled over in the ditch with one occupant was all she'd heard. She drew a deep breath trying to still her clamoring nerves. Until now, she'd ignored her growing awareness of Scott. For some reason tonight her defenses were lowered and she could no longer disregard her desire for him.

Once they stopped at the scene, Scott asked. "Penny, do you feel comfortable directing traffic?"

Without looking at him, she replied, "Yes." Then she grabbed a flashlight, fluorescent vest and stop sign from the side compartment and hurried to the back of the engine. Red lights flashed around her. She directed the rescue unit and ambulance to the accident a few yards up the road.

"Watch your backside," Scott yelled. Like always, he stood behind her, protecting her.

Guiding drivers wasn't her favorite job in the department, but traffic was light for the middle of the night. She couldn't believe how much time they'd spent in the storage room.

"How are you doing?" he asked a few minutes later.

Penny jumped at the sound of his voice beside her. "You startled me, I didn't hear you." She hadn't been able to get Scott off her mind since they left the station. Now she hesitated to look at him.

"I wanted a chance to talk to you alone." His voice held a serious tone; an I-want-to-clarify-any-misunderstanding-tone.

Red lights from the rescue unit continued their rhythmic flash around them. The colored illumination added a surreal appearance to the worry lines that marked Scott's face. He too appeared shaken by something. In the darkness she couldn't fully read his expression. With his brows lowered, he had a stern look of finality over his features. She guessed their kissing surprised him as much as it did her. Afraid she was losing her best friend, she breathed in deep. She knew and dreaded the subject he wanted to discuss with her.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I…"

"I understand it won't happen again," she said hurriedly. If only she could turn back the clock.

Read and enjoy this one. Overall, this story gave me happy thoughts about life and love.

Seriously Reviewed   19 out of 20