Thursday, May 28, 2015

Curse of the Purple Delhi Sapphire: Signed Paperbacks Coming Soon

Who still needs a copy of my latest release, Curse of the Purple Delhi Sapphire? $25.

I will be placing a bulk order with my publisher, Solstice Publishing shortly as the lovely Connie Di Pietro-Sparacino is holding a book launch in August.

You can buy the book at the launch in Brooklin or grab it from me beforehand.

Thanks so much for your support.

P.S - The third book in the series is complete and will be going into my joyous little beta reader's hands today!

Alternatively, if you'd prefer to order online or through your Kindle device. I've included the link below.

Order Online Now




#CurseofthePurpleDelhiSapphire #TempleofIndra #Mystery #Romance #Timetravel #Adventure #Ireland #SolsticePublishing #$25 #Ordernow #Paperback #hotreads #hotreads2015 #bestmystery #amazon #bestseller


Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Running Short on Creativity: Try These Simple Tricks to Get Your Imagination Back Into Shape

We've all been there. Those days when the creative juices dry up and simply remembering where you left your keys becomes a huge task. In industries where creativity pays the bills this can be nerve-racking. Especially when brainstorming turns into a doodle session that results in a series of spirals that you already perfected in middle school. The best way to avoid the wall is to keep one or two of these tricks in your backpocket--allowing you to scale the hell out of that creativity barrier! #writingtips #creativeflow #writingadvice #creativityadvice #breakingthedryspell #getcreative #innovative #excercise #businessadvice #creativejobs #Norwood #running #nature #outdoors #travel


1. GET THAT BLOOD PUMPING
Some of our best ideas happen when we are in motion. This morning I was out running and the combination of old houses, mature trees and physical activity had my mind swirling with plot twists. 

Whether we’re running, swimming or practicing yoga, the engaged state of our bodies allows our minds to wander freely.

In partial solitude, solutions can almost seem to present themselves. So whether you’re heading to the gym or just outside for a walk around the neighborhood, try stepping away from a busy day to engage in a workout.

Not to mention a new view never hurt anyone—even if it’s not as pretty as this one—so whether you’re hitting the trails or navigating tall building and traffic, a change of scenery can provide the spark that leads to a fresh idea. Just remember to keep your phone handy so you can voice text yourself notes on the idea. Then hurry back to the desk to elaborate.

2. SENSE YOUR SURROUNDINGS
Human beings have a multitude of senses that are often key to generating new ideas. Yes, we’re highly visual but it’s not just the beauty of nature that inspires us but also scent, touch and sounds. Birds chirping, raindrops falling or even the steady hum of traffic. Setting the mood to free the creative spark can be done in many different ways. I know there are certain streets that I jog down that can completely get my brain firing on all cylinders. Next time you’re feeling inspired, note what’s around you that may be triggering it. For example there is a certain bush of flowers on the street behind my house that gives me a rush of adrenalin when I pass it. There’s an old heritage house on the same street that sends my mind into mystery novel mode.  When I run through the downtown core I can’t help but think of money and the businesses that I could create and ways to improve the town and my own quality of life. This is because each of our senses can trigger different emotional responses, and sometimes starting there and letting the visuals follow can open you up to a completely different approach.

3. GET INSPIRED
Read Books. Watch movies. Stop by Pinterest.
Continuously fill your mind with compelling content and inspiring stories; these will fuel your process. You never know where inspiration may be lurking.

4. KEEP CREATING

You are the captain of your own destiny, capable of imaginative, unique work the world has yet to see. It may take time and energy to get to a point where it flows, but it’s in there. Never give up! Type until your wrist hurts. Paint until you run out of colour. Sing until you lose the pitch. The time is now and there is no need to fear failure or make excuses.  Just show up, start somewhere and keep going until you are good.




The Temple of Indra Series
Book One: The Temple of Indra’s Jewel
Book Two: Curse of the Purple Delhi Sapphire
Rachael Stapleton

Genre: Mystery, Adventure, Time Travel Romance

Series Description: Librarian Sophia Marcil has spent her life surrounded by history, fascinated by the tales of ancient curses, but she never imagined the legend of the Purple Delhi Sapphire was true until she inherited it and was transported to a past life where she landed square in the middle of a dangerous plot for the throne. Now she knows that not only is reincarnation real, but so is the magic locked inside her precious gem, and it’s worth killing for.

Publisher: Solstice Publishing
Date of Publication: February 3rd, 2015
Print Length: 215 pages
Word Count: 66, 400
Cover Artist: Rebecca Boyd

Curse of the Purple Delhi Sapphire Book Description:

Sophia Marcil hasn’t escaped her destiny or the mad-man hunting her but she’s doing her best to evade both and making a life in Ireland with Cullen—the one person she can count on to pull her out of deep water. There’s just one problem, despite his connection, she hasn’t told him the truth of her time travel and her reality comes crashing down as he proposes with the very sapphire that’s cursed her. Before she knows it, she’s wandering the hallway of an old Victorian house in the body of her great aunt. Unfortunately, her nemesis has also reincarnated in 1920—as one of her family members and she struggles to locate the Purple Delhi Sapphire in time to prevent the deaths of those she loves. When she fails and returns to her present-day life, she’s forced to confront the fact that her killer’s soul will always be tied to the sapphire and in every life she has, he will be resurrected as someone close to her. Her biggest question—who is he now? She doesn’t have to wonder for very long before she finds evidence that has her questioning everything she thought she knew.

Book One Trailer: http://goo.gl/6vtX2r
Book Two Trailer: http://youtu.be/VCeG9eA09Fg

About the Author: Rachel Stapleton lives in a Second Empire Victorian with her husband and two children in Ontario, Canada and enjoys writing in the comforts of aged wood and arched dormers. She is the author of The Temple of Indra’s Jewel, Curse of the Purple Delhi Sapphire and is currently working on the third and most likely final book in the Temple of Indra series.


Please subscribe to my website and follow me on social media.



Buy Links:


For more ideas on getting the creativity to flow check out the following articles.

http://www.fastcompany.com/3039050/4-simple-tricks-to-get-your-creative-juices-flowing-again
http://goinswriter.com/creative-flow/

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Tuesday's Treasured & Tipsy Timeslip: This Weeks Traveller is Ann Gimpel

Travel and make-believe go hand in hand. Whether we're in the present or the past, in a haunted castle, an enchanted forest or a broken down building, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and traveling the world can bring the imagination to life.

This week's Treasured & Tipsy Time Traveller is a mountaineer at heart. Ann Gimpel prefers solitude and wilderness photography which is why she lives in Eastern Sierra, a mecca for those in love with the mountains. It was during one of her long backcountry treks that Ann’s writing evolved. Please join us as she takes us on A Wanderer’s Life.



At least in modern times, I’ve been fortunate to travel the globe and see fascinating things. I spent two months of 2014 in Antarctica, and wish I could go back. There’s something wild and untamed about what truly is one of the last frontiers on our planet.

Mystery lends itself to storytelling, and Antarctica is one mysterious place. The single celled organisms, archaea, that play a starring role in Icy Passage, are real, as is everything I said about them in the book. One of the hallmarks of science fiction is the science parts have to be spot on. When I submitted the book to a well-known science fiction webzine for review, I held my breath because Icy Passage has paranormal elements in it too. The review turned out fine. More than fine, actually!







Other places that appeal to me are mountainous areas. I adore the seclusion and necessity of pitting myself against whatever nature throws my way. I’m lucky to live with the Sierras in my backyard. So backpacking trips are a mainstay every summer. Or they were until one of our wolf hybrids grew old. We’ll still backpack this summer, but Nikki-man will have to stay home. He can’t walk very far anymore.
Here are a few Sierra photos from my collection of thousands. Photography was my first art. I’ve been taking pictures for years. Long before I started writing. Some of my books, like Alpine Attraction and Destiny’s Shadow, take place in the backcountry. And many of my other books rely heavily on my survivalist knowledge base.
Come August, we’ll head for the NW Passage and I have hopes we’ll get some great polar bear shots, as well as other wildlife unique to the Arctic.
I feel blessed and fortunate to have seen so much of our amazing world. Travel’s taught me so much about other people and their cultures, and about flexibility and adaptability. My husband would love to have been born two hundred years ago, during the age of the great explorers. That would’ve held its own set of interesting challenges, but women were terribly repressed then. I enjoy the freedom offered by the twenty-first century, and I’m not so sure I’d be quick to swap it out.

Thanks for inviting me to your blog and for an intriguing guest post topic.

Winning Glory
GenTech Rebellion, Book 1
Ann Gimpel

Dream Shadow Press
Release Date: 4/21/15
Genre: Military Romantic Suspense
The line between hunter and hunted thins, blurs, and finally shatters.

Series Backstory:

Sometime between the interminable wars in the Middle East and 9/11, the United States moved forward breeding a race of super humans. Clandestine labs formed, armed with eager scientists who’d always yearned to manipulate human DNA. At first the clones looked promising, growing to fighting size in as little as a dozen years, but V1 had design flaws.

Seven years ago, a rogue group turned on their creators, blew up the lab, and hit all the other breeding farms, freeing whomever they could find. In the intervening time, they’ve retreated to hidden compounds and created a society run by men. Women are kept on a tight leash because the men fear if they discover their innate power, they’d launch their own rebellion. 

Book Description:

Being a genetically altered human without a name grew old, so Glory named herself. Surrounded by a maze of unpleasant alternatives, she makes a bold choice and ends up a fugitive in the midst of a Minnesota winter. Once she’s on the run, she discovers how unprepared she is for life outside her protected compound.

CIA agent, Roy Kincaid, devoted his career to hunting super humans who staged a rebellion seven years before. He’s not making much headway, so he goes deep undercover. One blustery night, a striking woman staggers into the cafĂ© where he’s catching a late meal. Part waif, part runway model, the half-frozen woman arrows straight into his heart.

Glory’s flat out of alternatives, but death in the storm might be preferable to telling the tall stranger looming over her anything. Sensing Roy is dangerous, she pushes into his head seeking clues and discovers he hunts those like her. Maybe she can fool him, just for tonight. Get a hot meal and dry motel room out of the deal. If she’s lucky, he’ll never find out she’s on the run from the same group he’s targeted for death.

The thing she didn’t count on was falling in love.


Excerpt:

…“Dessert, hon?” The waitress sidled back over to him, and Roy realized he was her only customer.
“Sure. What do you have?”
She rattled off a series of pies and cakes. He chose apple pie with a scoop of ice cream, and she left with his dinner plate. Roy slumped against the chair. He had to keep going. No choice. Not really. A good night’s sleep, coupled with the first adequate meal he’d had in a couple days might make a big difference in his attitude. At least he hoped they would.
He’d just begun on the pie, which had a surprisingly flaky crust, when a rush of cold air yanked his attention toward the door. A tall woman walked in. Long, dark hair caked with snow swirled around her, and she held her body tightly as if she were really cold. Roy glanced at her feet and was shocked to see a pair of tennis shoes with holes in them. Good God, had she been outside with such inadequate footwear? Didn’t she understand she could freeze to death? Even his stout boots didn’t do much to divert the cold.
Keeping her gaze downcast, she made her way to the counter and sat.
“Coffee, hon?” The waitress asked.
“How much is it?” the woman inquired.
“Two bucks.”
“Oh.” The woman’s shoulders drooped, and she swiveled the stool around, getting ready to go back out into the storm.
“No, you don’t.” The waitress’s voice sharpened. “I’ll stand you a coffee. You look about done in.”
The woman’s even features melted into what looked like relief before she turned back to face the counter. “Thank you. That’s really kind and I appreciate it. My wallet was stolen, and—”
“Never you mind.” The waitress patted the woman’s shoulder. “Bet you’re hungry too.” She poured hot coffee into a mug and handed it to the woman, who drew the steaming liquid to her lips.
 “Maybe a little,” the woman ventured. She clasped the cup with fingers white from cold.
By now, Roy knew he was staring, but he couldn’t make himself turn away. There was something waiflike and alluring about the tall woman with long, black hair. Snow dripped off her, creating puddles around her stool. All she wore against the winter weather was a thick, gray sweater and worn jeans. No scarf. No gloves. No hat. He was close to certain her wallet hadn’t been stolen. She looked more like an abuse victim on the run to him. Maybe he could help her get to her intended destination, if it wasn’t too far out of his way.
He pushed his chair back and made his way to the counter. “Say—” he began, but she started and drew away as if she expected him to hit her.
I was right. Abuse victim for sure.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He kept his voice low, soothing. “Order whatever you want, and I’ll pay for it.”
She kept her gaze on her hands clutching the coffee cup. “I can’t let you do that, sir. I’m all right. Truly I am.”
Without waiting for an invitation, he took the stool next to hers and called to the waitress. “Bring her the same meal I just had.”
“You got it, hon,” rang from the direction of the kitchen.
“You are not all right,” Roy said. “You’re thin as a rail, and you were shivering when you came in here. In fact, you still are. I’ll bet your shoes are wet clear through.” When she didn’t respond, he ploughed on. “Let me help you.”
She shook her head. “Don’t want your kind of help. It always comes with strings.”
“Mine doesn’t.”
He pushed a little with his enhanced mental ability to get her to look at him. If she did, maybe she’d see truth in his eyes. A shudder ran down her thin frame, but she dragged her gaze upward reluctantly. Roy felt bad for forcing her, but he didn’t have time to soothe her wounded places, which he suspected ran deep.
Eyes a shade of green he’d never seen inspected him. Long, thick lashes framed those eyes, and they were set in a face with high cheekbones, a high forehead, and black eyebrows winging a track over porcelain skin.
“Who are you?” The words tore from him. He hadn’t meant to say them. She was nervous as a feral cat as it was.
She shook her head sadly. “No one. I’m no one. You’ll forget all about me when you leave here.”
Something shifted in his mind, but he fought it. Before he could determine if something real had just happened or if he were imagining things, the waitress showed up with the woman’s dinner.
“Here you go, hon. Hope medium’s okay for that steak?”
“Fine, thank you.” Before the words were out, the woman picked up the fork and knife and shoveled food into her mouth.
Roy congratulated himself on a good call. Even though she’d been reluctant to admit it, she really was starving. He had no idea what she’d do tomorrow or the next day, but it wasn’t his problem. While she ate, he observed her from the corner of his eyes. In addition to being hungry and underdressed, she looked young. Maybe twenty. He’d be surprised if she were much more than that.
He shook a mental finger at himself. The country was full of abused women running from the men who used them as punching bags before they raped them. It was one part of law enforcement work he’d never understood: why the women kept going back for more.
“There are safe houses for girls like you,” he said, and could’ve kicked himself. What the hell was wrong with his mouth tonight? He couldn’t seem to keep words on the other side of it.
She stopped chewing long enough to glance at him. “What’s a safe house?”
“A place where women like you can go so whoever’s after you can’t get to you.”
“What makes you think someone’s after me?” Color splotched across her white cheeks.
Roy took a deep breath. “I was a cop for a long time.”
Her entire body tightened, and he wondered if he’d been wrong about why she was out in the storm. “You said was.” She swiped a paper napkin over her lips. “Are you still?”
“No. Not anymore.”
She took another bite, clearly thinking about what he’d said. “These people you think are after me. Could they still find me in a safe house?”
He wanted to lie to her, but didn’t. “Sure. Anyone can find anybody with the Internet and all, but the people who run the safe houses won’t let anyone who might hurt you inside.”
She drew her arched brows together and drank some coffee. “I’d have to go outside sometime. Work. Earn my way.”
He nodded. Those things were all true. He scratched his head and pushed too-long hair out of his eyes. “Sometimes, when a man is really persistent, there are ways of setting you up with a different identity in a different part of the country.”
Interest lit her features, and she cut up the last of her steak. “Where would I go to have that happen?”
“I’m not sure, but we could check with local agencies in the morning.”
A blank expression washed over her face, as if someone had shut out a light. She shot him a look she might have given yesterday’s overripe trash. “Morning, huh? You’re just like all the rest of them, mister. Means I’d have to spend the night with you.”
Roy winced. He hadn’t been thinking. Of course she’d make that connection. “No.” He shook his head emphatically. “I’d buy you your own room for the night. You can clean up, get some sleep, and we’ll regroup in the morning after breakfast.”
She narrowed her eyes, and he felt himself drawn into their depths. “My own room with a locked door?”
He nodded solemnly, willing her to believe him. If he could just do one decent deed, it would make up for the last two weeks of beating his head into a brick wall. Maybe it would give him enough juice to keep hunting for the scientists who were a bunch of Houdini fuckers.
“Mmph.” She started on her potato, taking large bites. In between them, she said. “I’m trying to figure out your angle. If I’ve worked my way around to believing you won’t hurt me by the time I’m done eating, I’ll accept your offer.”
It was the best he was likely to get. Roy stood. “Fair enough. I’m going to finish my pie.” It was sitting in a pool of melted ice cream, but he didn’t mind. “If you’d care to accept my help, just stop by my table on your way out. If you walk past, I give you my word I won’t bother you.”
“Deal.” She said around a mouthful of food. Swallowing, she twisted to look at him.
It felt as if she were staring straight through him, but Roy held his ground even after he identified a zing of power withdrawing from his mind. What the hell was she, anyway? When she returned to her dinner, he retreated to his pie, thoughts racing a mile a minute. What the fuck was he doing? If he were smart, he’d forget his offer, throw enough money on the table to cover both meals, and run like hell for his car.
There was something about the woman, though, an appeal that drew him, snared him, and wouldn’t leave him be. He ate mindlessly, not tasting the pie. He knew the feel of freak mind control. Was that it? Had he inadvertently stumbled onto one of them?
Impossible. They’re never by themselves, and whatever she examined me with didn’t feel quite right.
Plus, she didn’t resemble the ones he’d killed before. They had dark hair, but animal eyes. Amber, not green like hers. Of course they’d been men, but simple genetics argued they’d all look much the same if they came out of the same petri dishes.
Were there other augmented humans beyond those he already knew about? The thought fascinated and chilled him at the same time.
He scraped his fork over the plate and realized it was empty. Slugging back long-since-cold coffee, he dug for his wallet and extracted what he was certain would cover dinner, laying bills on the table and placing his empty mug atop them.
The woman looked almost done with her meal. What would she do?
What would he do if she walked by him and out the door? Would he be able to keep his promise and not go after her?…


Ann Gimpel is a mountaineer at heart. Recently retired from a long career as a psychologist, she remembers many hours at her desk where her body may have been stuck inside four walls, but her soul was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry. Around the turn of the last century (that would be 2000, not 1900!), she managed to finagle moving to the Eastern Sierra, a mecca for those in love with the mountains. It was during long backcountry treks that Ann’s writing evolved. Unlike some who see the backcountry as an excuse to drag friends and relatives along, Ann prefers solitude. Stories always ran around in her head on those journeys, sometimes as a hedge against abject terror when challenging conditions made her fear for her life, sometimes for company. Eventually, she returned from a trip and sat down at the computer. Three months later, a five hundred page novel emerged. Oh, it wasn’t very good, but it was a beginning. And, she learned a lot between writing that novel and its sequel.

Around that time, a friend of hers suggested she try her hand at short stories. It didn’t take long before that first story found its way into print and they’ve been accepted pretty regularly since then. One of Ann’s passions has always been ecology, so her tales often have a green twist.

In addition to writing, Ann enjoys wilderness photography. She lugs pounds of camera equipment in her backpack to distant locales every year. A standing joke is that over ten percent of her pack weight is camera gear which means someone else has to carry the food! That someone is her husband. They’ve shared a life together for a very long time. Children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out their family.





@AnnGimpel (for Twitter)

#Antarctica #Travel #AuthorInterview #TreasuredTipsyTimeslip #RachaelStapleton #CurseofthePurpleDelhiSapphire #Mountains #Wanderer #mountaineer

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Author Spotlight: Jacqueline Paige


Scent
Animal Trilogy
Book Two
Jacqueline Paige

eBook ISBN: 9781629292588
Print ISBN: 9781629292595 
Genre: Paranormal
Sub Genre: Romance 
Novel of 79838 words
Heat rating: 3 
Edited by Sally Odgers
Cover Artwork by Amanda Kelsey


Sometimes the answers you get aren’t what you asked.The world can tilt a bit and throw you off balance, just enough that you have to stop and make some adjustments. Kelsey comes home to find out her entire life and everything she thought she knew is a lie. When her world spins out of control and flips in more directions then she could ever count, she struggles to right it again.

Available at Eternal Press   Amazon
  
About the Author:

Jacqueline Paige lives in Ontario in a small town that's part of the popular Georgian Triangle area.  No one has ever heard of Stayner, so she usually tells people she lives near Collingwood and no, she doesn't ski at Blue Mountain or at all, in fact she's not even fond of snow.

She began her writing career in 2006 and since her first published works in 2009 she hasn't stopped.  Jacqueline describes her writing as all things paranormal, which she has proven is her niche with stories of witches, ghosts, physics and shifters now on the shelves.

When Jacqueline isn't working at her reality job or lost in her writing she spends time with her five children, most of whom are finally able to look after her instead of the other way around.  Together they do random road trips, that usually end up with them lost,  shopping trips where they push every button in the toy aisle, hiking when there's enough time to escape and bizarre things like creating new daring recipes in the kitchen. She's a grandmother to five (so far) and looks forward to corrupting many more in the years to come.

@JacqPaige


Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Tuesday's Treasured & Tipsy Timeslip: This Weeks Traveller is A.A Schenna

Travel and make-believe go hand in hand. Whether we're in the present or the past, in a haunted castle, an enchanted forest or a broken down building, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and traveling the world can bring the imagination to life.

This week's Treasured & Tipsy Time Traveller is Solstice Author A.A Schenna. He loves discovering new places and incorporating them into his writing. Follow along and enjoy the peaceful countryside of the Midwestern United States, stroll along the beach in Florida, and bathe in the waterfalls of Hawaii.



Midwestern United States
Looking up at the sky and breathing the air of relief…
Make a new beginning in the countryside. Leave the exhausting, demanding life in the city behind and move on. If you look forward to getting your energy, time and love back, don’t hesitate. The power of nature, the beautiful sunsets and the smell of the trees will make you feel the happiest man on Earth. You will have to change everything and, of course, your way of life, but I am sure you will never regret it. Your decision will make you experience the rebirth of your life.
Rebirth, the second story of Limitless Love Collection sets in Minnesota.

Southeastern region of the United States
Discovering the first leaps of love again…
Strolling at the beach, hand in hand, fully in love…
Is there anything better than spending Sunday mornings near the sea? The answer is NO.
When you gaze at the sea, the memories of the past come up. You feel you are seventeen, and you keep on walking with your partner while talking about your future.
Silent Love, the first story of Limitless Love Collection sets in Florida.


Hawaii
Stranded in paradise…
There are no words to describe the feelings.
The moment your feet sense the cold water of the ocean, you feel wonderful. It’s like seeing your heart leaving your body, flying above the white clouds of euphoria.
The Key, the third story of Limitless Love Collection sets in paradise.



Silent Love
Rebirth
The Key
Three stories of romance for lovers of all ages…




BIO
As a child, A.A dreamed of being a cardiac surgeon. Later, Schenna realized that this was not what he wanted.
Writing has always been his greatest pleasure. When he doesn’t write action, adventure, romance stories or anything else, he reads everything.
A.A loves traveling, meeting new people and discovering new places.
Schenna admires all the writers he comes across and enjoys talking about books and magazines.



#Hawaii #Florida #Midwestern United States #Travel #AuthorInterview #TreasuredTipsyTimeslip #RachaelStapleton #CurseofthePurpleDelhiSapphire #AASchenna #Limitlesslovecollection #SilentLove #Rebirth #TheKey

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Tuesday's Treasured & Tipsy Timeslip: This Weeks Traveller is Rachel Rawlings

Travel and make-believe go hand in hand. Whether we're in the present or the past, in a haunted castle, an enchanted forest or a broken down building, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and traveling the world can bring the imagination to life.

This Weeks Traveller is Rachel Rawlings. Her time growing up was split between Maryland and Rhode Island, which only fueled her love of New England and it’s gorgeous seaside towns. The history of Salem has always fascinated her and she found its ability to embrace such a dark spot in time, making it a favorite destination among tourists the perfect place for her supernatural cast of characters. Not to mention the irony of a coven of witches taking up residence in a town famous for its witch trials. From the eastern seaboard we’ll hop to the Emerald Isle, the number one place on Rachel's my bucket list and another spot featured in her novels. She dreams of owning a pub in one of the small towns, serving libations at night and writing during the day! The colorful pubs, historic homes and rolling green countryside inspired Mason’s hometown and Maurin’s refuge. But trouble never stays away for long and it’s certainly followed her across the pond.

Welcome To Kincaide Tours

Thanks so much for having me on the blog! I love this topic and the opportunity to include pictures. It’s definitely a first for me and I had so much fun getting it together. I've been an armchair traveler for years now, looking at images online for the places in my novels. I’m excited to share some of them with you. So sit back and relax. No need for passports or plane tickets on this trip. Are you ready? Let’s start our journey!

If you’ll please stick together, we don’t want anyone getting lost. Remember, safety in numbers so please stick to your buddy and stay with the group.

Our first destination is Salem, MA, where we’ll spend a couple hours shopping and dining our way through the Pedestrian Mall. History and the present day collide in this popular strip of stores and restaurants. No need to put your wands away.

This witch friendly town has come a long since the nineteen hangings during the famous witch trials of 1692 and is now home to many different Wiccan and Pagan Organizations.

The Witch’s Closet, a store stocked with everything a witch needs to fill her pantry and Toil and trouble, the local bar for norms and others are fictional places located in the Essex St. Pedestrian Mall and are frequented by Maurin Kincaide and her friends. Perhaps we’ll see some members of the Council or Salem’s Preternatural Task Force while we’re walking around.


Once our bags and bellies are full we’ll walk along the waterfront at Pickering Wharf while we await our ferry to Winter Island.




Maurin has found more than her fair share of trouble on this island. From attempts on her life to a pack challenge she’s seen more than beautiful scenery.



A snapshot of our first destination!

Our trip continues with a voyage across the sea to the Ireland. Erin Go Bragh!

While on the Emerald Isle, we’ll visit the town of Kilkenny and the thatched roof homes still peppering the countryside. Lucky for us there’s a bed and breakfast not far from Mason Hunter’s home. While he is often state side in Salem with Maurin, we may catch a glimpse of them during our tour.

Don’t let the rustic look of these homes fool you. You’ll find all the comforts of home, especially in Mason Hunter’s residence. Your stay in the bed and breakfast pictured above includes a traditional Irish breakfast- bacon and sausages, eggs, grilled tomatoes and potatoes with soda bread and tea. A favorite of Maurin’s, though she does prefer coffee.

Thanks for booking with Kincaide Tours! We certainly hope you’ve enjoyed your trip.
Beannacht!
Learn more about Maurin Kincaide and her escapades in The Maurin Kincaide Series.


Ill Fated
The Maurin Kincaide Series
Book 5
Rachel Rawlings

Genre: Paranormal, Urban Fantasy
Date of Publication: 2/11/15 
ISBN: 978-1508456711
ASIN: B00TI20TZC 
Number of pages: 271 
Cover Artist: Eri Nelson




Some things are destined to end in death. After the first attempt on her life Maurin wasn't scared. Hell, she was almost flattered. But someone put a price on her head and things are getting complicated.

Trouble is brewing in the fae courts and it's spilling over into Salem. The UnSeelie Dark Guard have answered the call for her head on a platter and people closest to her are disappearing.

Can Maurin master court politics and find her missing men before someone claims the bounty on her head?
Available at   Amazon   and   BN

Excerpt:


"You're awake?" He sounded more than a little surprised.

"I'm not really sure the state I'm in qualifies as awake."

"Here I was, terrified to poke the dragon, and you're already drinking coffee and talking in complete sentences."

I snorted and took a sip of the aforementioned liquid gold. "Are you always like this in the morning?"

"If you'd let me sleep over you'd already know the answer to that question. Why aren't you asleep?"

In general or just tonight, I silently wondered. "Bad dream. I've been tossing and turning all night. I finally gave in and got out of bed."

Papers rustled in the background and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, intimate."You want to talk about it?"

"Something tells me my nightmares are the least of our problems."

"You have no idea. I need you to come down to my office."

I sighed. "Can it at least wait until after sunrise?"

"Would I be breaking the no phone calls before noon policy if it could wait?"

“There really is no rest for the wicked, is there?”

He laughed and the sound warmed me more than a hundred cups of coffee. "Apparently not, in your case. Now, there's a dirty chai latte and a croissant for you if you're here before Amalie. I can't promise real coffee and pastries will survive beyond five minutes of her arrival."

"It's four-thirty in the morning, Mas. If you know what's good for you, you'll make sure at least one dirty chai and croissant remain unmolested."

"I'll see you soon." He was laughing as he hung up the phone.

Three hours ago I’d practically crawled through the doorway, exhausted from cleaning up after a newbie vamp who’d broken the Jus Sanguinis Intergentes when she killed her donor. The blood pact between people and vampires had a clear no killing, no exceptions clause.

It was up to the maker to ensure their child was ready to feed unsupervised. If something went wrong and the Council found out about it, we cleaned up the mess and the sire was subject to heavy fines and possible revocation of their rights to expand their blood lines. She’d been quite literally a bitch to track and take down.

It had been a long night and it was shaping up to be an even longer day.

I wasted little time getting dressed, opting for a slip on black jersey dress, eighteen hole Docs and a leather jacket. Jewelry was a hindrance in my line of work. My meeting with Mason could easily turn into a run. Choked with my own chain? No, thank you. Unclasping the necklace, I set it in a glass dish on my bathroom counter. I ran a brush through my hair, a toothbrush over my teeth and slipped into the between. I stepped out of the alley two buildings down from the station and walked the last block and a half.

Amalie was swarmed by detectives trying to get at the goodies she brought over from the Daily Grind. She greeted me with a warm smile, shaking her head when I offered to pull her out of the fray. She had managed to endear herself to the entire department in record time. All it took was real coffee and fresh pastries. I pointed to Mason's office. She'd make her way over once the starving masses had their fill.

Mason was so engrossed in the file on his desk he didn't hear me come in. He looked as tired as I felt - too many double shifts. Despite an uptick in activity, SPTF was short staffed due to budget cuts. Without enough man power to staff the shifts properly overtime was mandatory.

"Is that for me?" I pointed at the to-go cup and white paper bag on his desk.

He finally looked up and gave me a smile which lit up his whole face. "As promised."

I stole a quick kiss, grabbed the coffee and croissant, and settled in the chair across from him. I took a long sip of my latte, savoring the delicious mix of tea and espresso. "Man, I needed this. Is that the case you're working on?"

"Yeah, we've got a real problem on our hands."

"Don't we always." I tried to peak at the file.

Mason closed the manila folder. "I'd rather wait until everyone is here."

"Who else is coming besides Amalie?" My curiosity was definitely peaked now. I reached across his desk, hoping to grab the file.

"You look exhausted. Tell me about your dream while we wait."

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. "I see this for the obvious distraction it is but you're right.” Sighing, I rubbed my temple.“However, I'm exhausted, too exhausted to argue. So I'll tell you. Prepare to be confounded."

He listened intently as I filled him in on the nightly visits from the weathered old woman who washed my clothes and hauntingly called my name. I expected him to laugh and tell me it was just a dream, that I had nothing to worry about.

I didn't expect him to look so stricken.

"Bean Nighe." He all but whispered the name.

"You've heard of her?"

"Of course I've heard of her. How long has she been coming to you?"

I stared at him curiously. "A few weeks. Why?"

"A few weeks and this is the first I'm hearing of it?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, obviously struggling to control his temper.“We talked about this. No holding things back, remember?"

"I thought it was just a dream.” I shrugged.“Honestly, I didn't think it was a big deal."

"It was a big enough deal for you to research it." Agitation rolled off him in waves.

When I agreed to give this thing with Mason a chance I also agreed to some conditions. No more flying solo, no more rash decisions or rushing off to play the hero. We were a team, in everything. This was just one of many set-backs.

"I got curious, did a little digging. Until tonight, everything I found pointed to deep seated family issues, particularly with a mother figure. I've told you about my childhood, does that dream analysis surprise you?"

His growl told me he wasn’t in the mood for reasonable—at least to me—explanations. "When did you discover the true meaning of the dream? How long have you known about the Bean Nighe?"

"Tonight. This morning. Before you called me." I held up a hand to stop the tongue lashing I knew he wanted to give me. "I would have told you. I got the impression on the phone there were more pressing matters than my insomnia."

"Is this why you won't let me stay at your place?” His gaze roamed over my face, searching.“Why you never stay at mine?"

"Is that the real reason why you're so upset?" I arched my brows. “Because we’re not having sleepovers?”

"I stayed at your lovely apartment the first night we met."

I turned to watch Aidan glide into the room, stopping behind my chair. Rolling my eyes, I snorted and muttered, “In the closet.”

Mason's jaw twitched but he didn't take the bait. "Aidan."

"It's almost sunrise. Shouldn't you be hunkered down for the day?" I sighed, wondering what he was doing here. I was too tired to deal with Aidan and Mason and their combined testoserone.

Putting the three of us in a room together was like throwing lit matches at sticks of dynamite - eventually one of them will explode.


About the Author:

Rachel Rawlings was born and raised in the Baltimore Metropolitan area. Her family, originally from Rhode Island, spent summers in New England sparking her fascination with Salem, MA. She has been writing fictional stories and poems since middle school, but it wasn't until 2009 that she found the inspiration to create her heroine Maurin Kincaide and complete her first full length novel, The Morrigna.

When she isn't writing, Rachel can often be found with her nose buried in a good book. An avid reader of Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, Horror and Steampunk herself, Rachel founded Hallowread- an interactive convention for both authors and fans of those genres.

More information on Hallowread, its schedule of events and participating authors can be found at www.hallowread.blogspot.com  and www.facebook.com/Hallowread .

She still lives in Maryland with her husband and three children.