Author Natalie Wright- YA Trilogy- The Akasha Chronicles

Available now! The 3rd in the series- Emily’s Heart

Read book synopsis below, but keep reading if you want the sneak peek into the books!

Emily’s House (Book 1)

Fourteen-year-old Emily Adams has special powers she doesn’t want, a spiteful aunt she can’t escape, and a primeval legacy she knows nothing about. But when an otherworldly being materializes, Emily discovers the true purpose of her magical blood and of the danger that threatens to annihilate her world.

Dormant for over a thousand years, an ancient evil has arisen. This time, it will destroy anyone – or anything – that stands in its way.

With her two best friends by her side, Emily risks everything and embarks on a dangerous journey to Ireland and beyond where she unlocks the secrets of her Celtic ancestors. As the hour of world annihilation draws near, the fate of her friends, her family and her world lies in her hands.

Can a teenage girl without hero credentials save the world? And will Emily find the courage to face her true self in Emily’s House?

Join the Journey …

Book 2- Emily’s Trial

Two years ago, Emily Adams took a perilous journey, answered the hero’s call and became a modern Celtic Priestess. Armed with a magic dagger and powerful golden torc, she was entrusted with sacred magic and ancient wisdom.

But even a Priestess can know desire, feel temptation, and yearn for love. Will passion entice Emily to use the sacred magic entrusted to her in a forbidden way? Can new love take root in a world of nightmares? And will her friendships survive Emily’s Trial?

The Journey Continues . . .

Book 3- Emily’s Heart-

Seventeen-year-old Emily Adams unintentionally unleashed a shadow god’s dark energy power into the world and started an Apocalypse. But Emily is also the only one that can end the dark god’s reign. Though the powerful faerie magic of the golden torc is still coiled around her arm, self-doubt threatens to undo her. Emily wants nothing more than to feel the soft kiss of her one true love, but he won’t even speak to her. Her first crush is still quite dead and her best friend remains a prisoner in the dark god’s house of nightmares. A growing legion of black-eyed shadow people, devoid of conscience, roam the streets. Emily needs help now more than ever, but redemption seems far off indeed as she faces the expanding darkness alone.

Emily will need an army of her own if she is to save the world from being taken over by pure evil. But will a small band of Lucent geeks and freaks be enough to send the dark god packing?

Amidst chaos and ruin, will love blossom in Emily’s Heart?



The whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of that infernal machine. Its bellows pump up and down as black, tarry sludge is sucked up the tube and into the holding tank.

She lies on the bed like a robot corpse, tubes and lines going in and out of her body. Her once rosy lips are pale, tinged slightly green. Her once vibrant emerald green eyes are closed, sunken into the eye sockets. Her once strong body lies still and shrunken. Only her hair looks the same, flowing like a red wave across the white shore of the pillow.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

I stand at the door and gingerly peek in. I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to see her like that. I don’t want the putrid odor of dying people stuck in my nostrils.

I don’t want to go in, but I’m sucked into the room anyway. My legs feel powerless against the invisible force that draws me in. I flail my arms and try to command my body to obey me and run from the horrid scene.

But I’m in the room anyway, drawing ever closer to the bed.

Whoosh, whoosh.

What is that tarry black stuff? Is it being sucked out of her body? Or put in?

I’m close enough to touch her, but I don’t want to. The last time I touched her I saw a vision of her taking her last breath. The last time I touched her, I saw her die. I don’t want that to come true. And I don’t want to see her die again. The first time I saw her die I ran and ran, trying to escape the vision. I don’t want to touch anyone ever again.

But my hand reaches anyway, a mind of its own. My mouth opens to scream, but nothing comes out. My lips are locked open in a soundless “O.”

My hand quivers as it reaches in slow motion toward the sleeping body that bears a resemblance to my mother. Is she still in there? Or has the cancer stolen the last of her?

My fingertips shake as they touch her hand. The skin on her hand is as thin as an onionskin and shows the blue-red blood vessels beneath.

 As soon as my fingers touch her hand, her eyes pop open in a look of terror. Her mouth is open in a scream. But it’s not a human scream. It’s the loud whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of that tar-sucking machine.

She sits up. The long, wavy red hair flying about her head is the same, but the face is no longer my mother. It looks at me with large, solid black eyes, devoid of light or emotion, staring out of a bare skull. Her hand is no longer covered in thin flesh but is instead the hand of a skeleton. The hand of bones grips me hard.

I pull and pull to get free of the monster, but it has me. I’m caught in its grip.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

I finally wake, dripping in sweat. My mouth is still open in an “O,” the scream still caught in my throat.

I awake once again from the same ghastly dream I’ve had for the last seven years, only to find myself in a house of nightmares.



Excerpt of Emily’s Trial:

The Apocalypse didn’t start with four horsemen, harbingers of the horror to come. It didn’t start with a plague, or pestilence, or even zombies rising from the dead.

It came slowly, and without warning. It crept up on people in the shadows, no more than a vague darkness that spread like an unseen cancer.

And it wasn’t set into action by a divine hand. A teenage girl was the catalyst for the End Times.

I should know. I’m the one that started it.

I didn’t plan to. I didn’t want to start the End Times, and I’m not evil.

Madame Wong taught me to tell the truth, and so here it is. I’m the one responsible for the Apocalypse. And this is the story of how I unwittingly unlocked the door to the darkness; of how a Priestess of the Order of Brighid, entrusted with powerful magic that was supposed to be used for the benefit of all humankind, unleashed a force that would destroy it instead.

And it all began with desire.

Check out the 3rd in the series for the exciting conclusion to Emily’s journey!

Author Bio 

Natalie is the author of The Akasha Chronicles, a young adult paranormal fantasy trilogy. When not writing, blogging, Facebooking, Tweeting, Wattpadding or eating chocolate, Natalie nurtures her young daughter, plays with her two young cats, and feeds her dog too many treats.

Natalie enjoys walking in the high desert, snorkeling in warm waters, travel, and excellent food shared with family and friends. She was raised an Ohio farm girl, now lives in the desert Southwest, and dreams of living in a big city high rise.

Natalie enjoys chatting with readers, so stop by and say hi:








Here are buy links for all three books, the audio book of Book 2 (Book 1 is still in production), and the boxed set (boxed set only available on Amazon)


Amazon -

B &N -


Akasha Chronicles Boxed Set – $6.99 for all three books!

 Natalie Wright, Author

Follow me on Facebook: Natalie Wright, Author

Follow me on Twitter@NatalieWright_

Author Winslow Eliot- Sati and the Rider- A Satyana Mystery

Winslow Eliot has just launched a new mystery series – featuring a fortune-telling sleuth!

 Satyana – or Sati, as her friends call her – is a bold and alluring intuitive consultant, who’s smart, fiercely loyal, has a big heart and a knack for getting into trouble.


SATI AND THE RIDER: In her first adventure, a charming young man brings an unexpected delivery and Sati’s life is changed forever. She’s thrown into an adventure of hide-and-seek, fraud, murder, and a strange cult, and she needs to use all her powers to follow a mysterious trail to its surprising end.  


Winslow Eliot is the award-winning author of Heaven Falls, A Perfect Gem, Pursued, The Happiness Cure, and Bright Face of Danger (originally published by St. Martin’s Press 1993). Bright Face of Danger has been published in four separate French editions: as Fatale Vengeance (Harlequin) and, most recently, as L’Innocence du Mal (Mira Books). Her books have been translated into eleven languages and published in twenty countries.

Her greatest pleasure is entertaining readers with tales of romance and thought-provoking posts about writing in general, and poetry, teaching, and inspiration in particular. Her free online newsletter, WriteSpa – Oasis for Writers, welcomes visitors from all over the world. Besides writing novels and managing WriteSpa, she writes poetry, loves belly-dancing, singing and playing guitar, Tarot and all kinds of divination, sacred places, reading, and people.


What is it about the wonderful world of intuitive consulting that’s so appealing?

 If you’d like to learn more about the tools Sati uses in her sleuthing, especially the lenormand and tarot cards, there are many excellent resources, books, groups, teachers, communities, and helpers.

But if you’d rather simply continue your exploration in the smartly-gloved hands of Satyana, she’ll be back soon with her next adventure: SATI AND THE CLOVER.


Winslow’s website:

Purchase Sati and the Rider on Amazon:


Sneak Preview of SATI AND THE RIDER: :

I don’t often get men as clients. Usually if a man shows up for a consultation, it’s because his girlfriend or wife pushed him to it.

When they do come in, they tend to be reluctant, or skeptical, or nervous.

Sometimes all three.

But Joel Wakefield was different. Not that he was chatty or curious. No, he was chilly and dry as unbuttered toast in an Italian marmalade suit, a beige cashmere coat draped over his arm, fawn leather gloves, somewhere between forty and fifty, with an ultra-smooth chin that jutted aggressively.

He certainly was not reluctant or nervous. He set down his gloves and a manila envelope on the mantel, and frostily asked me to advise him on whether or not he could trust—completely—one of his employees.

I like to get to know my clients before I dive right into a reading, so after inviting him to sit down, I asked him what kind of business he was in.

“You’re the psychic,” he said. “You tell me.”

I refrained from making a joke, since he didn’t seem the humorous type, and grew quiet inwardly. I’d been giving readings for people for so long that by now it hardly took more than a minute to grow still inside. When I was ready, I checked a sample of his dubious operative’s handwriting, which I had the foresight to ask him to bring. I checked the o’s and a’s first—no loops. They were closed, too, so I could tell he wasn’t much of a talker. But they were clean and clear, so I knew he wasn’t hiding anything from his boss.

The answer was unequivocal: yes, his employee, Simon Jones, could be trusted completely.

But I didn’t make my answer unequivocal. Whenever I was asked questions of this kind, I really needed to be absolutely sure, because Joel Wakefield implied he was trusting this employee with large sums of money.

And, more importantly, I didn’t want him to walk out without paying for the full hour appointment. I seriously needed the money.

So I did a little scrying with the crystal ball, and studied the tarot spread I laid out on the low oak chest between us. The 10 of Swords seemed to vibrate and shift slightly and I turned my attention to it. The exhausted figure sprawled face-down on the hard ground in a pool of crimson. Something coming to an end.

I turned back to the handwriting and recognized signs of repressed anger.

Another thing I noticed: the writer was depressed. Aggressive, but I could easily glimpse his feelings of hopelessness and despair. The jagged phrases sloped down to the right—almost off the edge of the page.

But when I began to say some of this out loud, my client reminded me sharply that he was not asking about the mood of his employee. All he was asking was whether or not he could trust him.

 “Yes, you can trust him,” I said finally, confidently, toward the end of the hour. “Simon Jones is a good guy. Is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”

He assessed me silently, as though I were a department store suit on a hanger. His bronze shoes gleamed in the low light. He was sitting with one leg crossed over his thigh so I could see the shine on the leather sole. It was barely scuffed.

I wondered what he was waiting for, because our hour was up and I was expecting my next client at noon. I glanced at the clock on the wall, making a point. He saw me do it and a dimple creased his cheek as though he was trying to smile but it hurt.

He didn’t look like he intended to leave. There was definitely something else on his mind.

“Yes?” I prompted. “There’s something else?”

The hostile eyes flickered, almost softened, like a ripple in a pale gray sea. But then they froze again and he said, “Yes, there is. I want you to find my daughter.”

Author KateMarie Collins- Fin’s Magic

Another thrilling story by the international best-selling author of “Mark of the Successor”!


Fin depends on her companions to keep her safe…and out of chains. As one of the Amari, the only race that can harness magic, she longs for a normal life. One where she didn’t have to constantly look over her shoulder, and she could fall in love.


Alaric fell hard for Fin from the moment he laid his eyes on her three years ago. He swore an oath to keep her safe, even if it meant his life. But he knew that any relationship he could hope to have with her would be on her terms.

 When a king offers them the chance at a normal life, Fin’s cautious. And rightly so, as there are others who think she’s the one to lead the Amari from a life of slavery.

Buy now!


Chapter One


            The sound of the arrow piercing the wild boar’s carcass seemed loud in the early morning silence. Fin lowered her bow. “Well, at least I hit it that time”.

            “Your aim’s getting better. It may not convince a trained archer, but most won’t question your role with us. That should make things easier for you.” Alaric kept his voice low.

            She reached over her shoulder and extracted another arrow from her quiver. Nocking it into place, she slowly drew back the string. “Easy hasn’t been part of my vocabulary for a very long time.” She let the string go, wincing as the string bit into her arm. “And fooling most of the people isn’t good enough.” Fin rubbed at her stinging skin as she watched the arrow fly. It landed in the ground at least a yard away from the boar.

            “Come on, let’s go pick them up and try again.” Alaric motioned for her to follow him.

            They kept their voices low as they passed the small tents where their companions slept. No sense in waking them up before dawn, not unless something showed up. The last few days had been tough on all of them. After the way they’d left Lorien, Fin still kept her ears open. She didn’t like the feeling of being chased. But it was better than being chained.

            “Fin, relax. If anyone made out what you are in town, they’d have caught up to us by now.”

            She shook her head, the red braid dancing down her back. “You know I can’t. The only reason I’m still free is because I don’t relax. If I relax, this happens.” She looked at him.

            Fin watched as Alaric’s face turned momentarily to amazement as she flashed the true color of her eyes at him. The normal green was gone, replaced by the metallic gold that marked her as one of the Amari. She sighed.

            “It’s beautiful, you know. They’re beautiful. It’s a shame you have to hide them. Even around us.”  Alaric’s voice was barely above a whisper.

            “Yeah, well, hiding them has kept me out of chains for twenty years. It’s a habit now.” Fin bent down and picked up her arrow. “I read somewhere once there used to be thousands of us. Walking the streets, not hiding. I haven’t met another Amari for over ten years, not one who didn’t belong to someone.” A wistful tone crept into her voice.

            Alaric’s hand on her shoulder made her look up. “You don’t have to hide around me. No one should be treated like that, ever. And I won’t let that happen to you.”

            The look he gave her sent chills down her spine. Of all her companions, he was the one she talked to the most. Put all her trust in. Emile, Trystian, and Gwen were all there to protect her, hide her, and she knew it. But there was something about Alaric that told her his interest went even farther.

            His focus changed to something behind her. She made sure her eyes were hidden again. That was the first bit of magic she learned how to do. It was the only thing that had kept her free for so long.

            “In the camp!” A male voice called out from the surrounding brush. “We’re cold tonight. Can we share your fire?”

            Fin hurriedly gathered the last of her arrows, then darted back to wake the others. Alaric’s voice carried across the small area. “Depends. Are you friend or foe? We don’t take kindly to those who would share our fire and try to rob us blind.”

            Fin rushed into the first tent, shaking Gwen awake. A single finger to her lips was all the warning the dark haired woman needed. Slipping back out, Fin could see three men emerging from the forest not far from Alaric’s tall form. No armor, no uniform, but something wasn’t right about how they walked.

            “Would we ask first if we were foes? Why not just rob you? Why give your pet time to warn the others?” Fin stiffened at the word the man used to describe her. Pet. That’s what a chained Amari was called. She dove into the second tent. Emile caught her within his embrace. “Shh. There’s no guarantee they know.”

            Trystian was up as well, strapping his sword belt on. “Stay close. We’ll keep you safe.” The tall, bearded man reassured her before leading the way out of the tent.

            “What pet? There’s none here. If that’s what you seek, you’re in the wrong place.” Alaric’s voice was even. It was always better to talk their way out of a conflict.

            The first tendrils of light from the approaching dawn gave her enough to see what she feared. All three of the men approaching Alaric had chains dangling from their belts.

            “Ah, that’s fine. Charlie here–” the leader jerked his head back towards one of his companions, “–he likes to pretend he can smell ‘em. Says they smell bad on account of being corrupted by that magic of theirs.” He kicked at the dead boar Fin and Alaric had used for target practice. “Seems to me this is what he was smelling.”

            “Fire’s that way.” Alaric gestured towards the rest of them. Fin tried not to grip her bow too tightly. The others stood near enough to prevent anyone from reaching her, but far enough away to pull out their weapons if it became necessary.

            “Much obliged,” the leader remarked as he motioned the others to follow. Fin watched the strangers approach, Alaric trailing close behind. Something wasn’t right about them. It went beyond the shackles.

            Alaric raised his chin, calling out “We have guests.”


            That’s when it happened.

            The lead bounty hunter threw his fist back hard, knocking Alaric to the ground. Fin fumbled with her quiver, sending out the silent healing energy to her friend. Around her, the other three drew their weapons and prepared to meet the charging foes.

            By the time she got an arrow nocked, they were too close. Fin retreated a few feet, watching the fighting closely. Her bow was ready, but she needed to get a clear shot.

            Close combat always unnerved her. The stench of blood turned her stomach. Gwen was holding her own against the one named Charlie, and winning handily. When the first body dropped, Fin relaxed just a little. There weren’t many out there who could beat Trystian or Emile in one-on-one combat, because the two men didn’t believe in mercy. Just an expedient death.

            An arrow buzzed past her ear, the fletching scratching her cheek. Spinning on her heels, she watched it sail past the man charging at her. He leaped to tackle her as she tried to raise her bow. Instinct kicked in, and she did the only thing she could think of to stop him.

            She willed his heart to stop beating.

            An anguished wail tore from her throat. Pain forced her to her knees and caused her to drop her bow. The body of her would-be assailant fell with a heavy thud in front of her. Fin grasped at her left arm, desperate to breathe through the searing agony rippling down her bicep. She’d killed him. Justified or not, she’d taken a life.

            “Fin? Are you okay?” Alaric’s voice broke through the shock. She opened her eyes.

            He knelt in front of her. A single hand gently brushed her hair from her face. Concern for her was clearly visible in his brown eyes.

            “I…I killed him.” She could barely whisper the words.


Chapter Two


Captain Roberts watched the fight unfold. The fools. That had to be the dumbest set of bounty hunters he’d ever seen. The one remaining hidden was fairly good, but still clumsy. No wonder it’d taken them three days to catch up with the Amari and her friends.

            When she killed the one, he knew it was time to move. He signaled to one of the men behind him. “Get everyone mounted, move around to surround them. But don’t come out until my signal.” He turned to the man to his right. “James, come with me. I might need your help convincing her to come quietly. We’ll go in on foot.” He nodded once, assured that his men would do as he ordered without hesitation. They always did.

            Roberts looked back towards the makeshift campsite. Three of them were moving to pack up gear. The Amari still remained on the ground, the archer comforting her. She favored her left arm.

            “The scar will be deep for that,” James remarked in a low voice. “The physical pain will not cease for days.”

            “What about the rest of it?” Roberts asked.

            James turned to face him. The metallic gaze of his always amazed Roberts. No matter how often he’d seen it. “The mark on her soul will remain. We do not forget any death we cause, no matter how justified.”

            He nodded in understanding. “Keep your eyes hidden for now. When we need them to know what you are, we’ll reveal it.” With that, he stepped out of the edge of the woods and into the dawn-drenched clearing.

            He didn’t announce himself. He just walked. They would see him, or he and James would stop close enough they didn’t have to scream and alert anyone else lurking in the woods.

            The other woman saw them first. She slapped the arm of the two helping her pack up camp. Swords came out quickly. They were well trained. Roberts could appreciate that. All three moved to take positions to defend the Amari. The archer was helping her to stand. He and James were close enough now to see her face clearly. Pain marred the pale skin. She was not well.

            “That’s close enough, soldier.” The bearded man spoke, his accent giving away his identity. That helped Roberts immensely. He had names, but not descriptions, of the Amari’s companions. “We do not need assistance from you. The corpses are those of some ruffians who set on us. We just defended ourselves. Go keep the King’s Peace elsewhere.”

            Roberts spread his hands wide, keeping his sword in its sheath. “Have no worries, Trystian. We saw the fight and know who started it. We’re not here to arrest you, just deliver an invitation.”

            Suspicion crossed the faces of the ones he could see. “I don’t blame you for your caution. There are many out there who would send better men than the ones you dispatched in hopes to find your companion. And chain her. My liege is not one of those. He would help her, offer her sanctuary.” He walked a few more steps, staying just out of sword range. “Not all feel the Amari are dangerous unless leashed. I can show you the proof of that.” He looked at James and nodded.

            The reaction was what he hoped for. The one he thought was Emile glanced back and whispered something to the archer. Roberts still wasn’t certain he had the names right between those two.

            “What is it you want from us? We only wish to be left alone, travel in peace.” The archer spoke, cinching his identity. Alaric, the Islander.

            “We only offer sanctuary while you’re in my King’s lands. We will not prevent you from leaving. He knew you roamed near and would take counsel with you. Give you the chance to rest, recover. Meet more of your kind.”

            “How do you know what I am?” The voice of the woman rose up from behind the group. They parted, giving Roberts the first real look at her. Her shirt was ripped and bloodstained, her red hair escaping from a single braid and framing her tired, pained face. She did not hide her eyes from him.

            James dropped to his knee in front of Roberts. “We know because we would not give up hope, Your Highness. Please, let us help you. Trust is not easy among us, but I would give my life up willingly if we deceive you in this. King Christoph is friend of the Amari, not foe. Let me prove it to you.”

            Roberts was taken aback. James had told him nothing of her being royal. From the looks of her companions, they were as stunned as he was.

            “And if we refuse?”

            Roberts raised his arm, waving his fingers once. The rest of his men, all seventy-five, slowly emerged from the forest. Ringing them with a mounted force. “I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to insist. His Majesty is most anxious to talk with you.”

* * * *

            He didn’t try to engage them in conversation. They  took only two horses. Alaric rode behind the Amari, while Gwen took the other horse. The other two walked, hands on the reins of their companions’ horses. The expressions on their faces made it obvious that they didn’t trust him, especially after he called out his troops. Roberts sighed. He really didn’t want to do that, but the King had been adamant. Find them, find her, and bring her back to the safety of the castle. Lorien was at the very border of the kingdoms, and tensions were high between the countries. Roberts had pushed his men hard to try and get here before King Lor sent out his own troops to find her. Another league, though, and they’d be far enough into Caerlynn where he could relax. Even Lor wouldn’t cross the border that far.

            “Except that we did, Captain, and he could see that as a violation of the treaty.” James’ voice was low.

            “Treaty or not, we had orders. Though a little more information from you would’ve been nice! What possessed you to not mention she was the last member of the Royal Family?”

            James shrugged, “I wasn’t sure she was, not until I saw her. From the look on her face, she has no idea herself. The story has been told so many times, you wonder how much is true and how much has been added by a bard.”

            “I want to hear this story, sir. I don’t know it.” Fin’s voice sounded from behind them. Roberts turned in his saddle, glancing back at her. Her voice wasn’t as unsteady as before. The pain was still marring her features, but it was less pronounced than it had been when they first mounted up. She wore more of a mask now, of her own creating. He nodded to James, the two moving far enough apart to give her horse space to join them.

            “It doesn’t surprise me, Your Highness, that you–” Raising her right hand, Fin cut him off.

            “Don’t call me that. It’s not my title to claim, nor yours to bestow. I want the story, not the truth as you see it.”

            James nodded. “As you wish. Twenty-two years ago, the Amari still had a home, and a ruler. It wasn’t much of one. It was more a series of caves in the Eastern Mountains. But we did what we could to remain undetected. When we could, we’d try to free any of our kind who had been chained. That was our ultimate downfall.” He paused. “A group went to rescue one such slave. And they did. But she betrayed us all. She told her master how to find us. When the bounty hunters came, she even used her magic against those of us who fought. In the end, everyone who had lived free under the mountain was dead or in chains. Everyone but one small girl.”

            He looked right at Fin. “The youngest daughter of the King, Serafina by name, was scooped up by her nurse and she carried the toddler to the underground river. She placed the girl into a small basket and used her own magic to propel the craft quickly downriver. When the hunters found the woman, she claimed she drowned the child rather than hand her over to a life of servitude. There are some who believe that, one day, the child will return and lead us to freedom.”

            Roberts swore to himself. From the tone of James’ voice, he believed every word of the story. Christoph was a just King, unlike his father. Sheltering the Amari was one thing. Helping with an open rebellion? That wasn’t something Roberts thought he’d be able to stomach.

            “Interesting story, but that doesn’t tell me why you think I’m this lost child. The name’s common. I doubt I’m the only one within the Amari whose ever been saddled with it.” There was an edge to her voice that alarmed Robert. Casually, he listened closely to the exchange between her and James.

            The look on James’ face changed as he looked at her. Was that adoration? Infatuation? Idolatry? Damn! He’d talk with the man later, when they stopped for the night. The last thing he needed was for him to get besotted by a pretty face that might be royalty.

            “A few things. The child had red hair, the only one in the royal family for the last three generations. It’s common enough among humans, yes. But among the Amari the trait is very recessive and hardly comes to pass. Your age is right. She would be twenty-five now, and you are close to the same age.” He hesitated.

            ‘Don’t stop now. You’re spinning quite a tale.” Alaric spoke up. Roberts glanced at the Islander who sat behind Fin on the horse. His face had hardened, his posture more guarded. The arm encircling her waist tightened. James was treading on thin ice with the man. The intelligence he’d been given didn’t mention any romantic leanings, but it hadn’t talked about her being potential royalty either.

            James turned his attention to Alaric. “We Amari can sense things. Things that humans cannot. We know when someone is lying, or if they are destined for greatness. Once she is back with her own kind, she will learn how to do this herself.” The emphasis on those two words was enough for Roberts. This stopped. Now.

            “James!” he snapped. “Ride ahead. The waystation’s not far from here. Give them warning of our approach. Arrange for rooms for our guests and have something hot waiting for us to eat.”

            “One room’s all we’ll need.” Trystian spoke. “We’re used to sleeping in rotation. No need for more than the one. We aren’t going anywhere.”

            Rather than argue, Roberts nodded in agreement. One room would be easier for his men to watch than five anyway. At least, he hoped it would be.

            Once James had ridden out of earshot, Roberts spoke up again. “I apologize for his behavior, my lady. James is a bit reactionary. Above all, he would see his people have their own lands again. He thinks it would be better for the Amari to live apart from the rest of the world. My king does not agree. He feels we should live peacefully side by side.”

            “There aren’t many who would agree with his views.” Fin’s voice, though calm, was still guarded.

            “That’s the truth. His father didn’t, that’s for certain. Two weeks after he died, though, Christoph personally unchained each Amari his father had collected during his lifetime. He gave them the option of going out into the world or staying there under his protection. Any that stayed would be expected to do a job, but not their magic.”

            “Magic is banned, then?”

            “No. It’s more that he doesn’t command them to do it. All the jobs they were given required manual labor. Anything from helping around the keep to blacksmithing to farming. A few were asked to join his small council. James was the only one to volunteer to help scout for more Amari, though. He’s a good man.”

            Alaric’s head bent nearer to the woman’s ear and he whispered something that Roberts couldn’t hear. She found it funny, though, as her face brightened slightly and she giggled.

            Rather than ask, Roberts turned his focus back to the road ahead. A warm meal was going to do him wonders tonight.

Author Bio

Born in the late 60′s, KateMarie has lived most of her life in the Pacific NW. While she’s always been creative, she didn’t turn towards writing until 2008. She found a love for the craft. With the encouragement of her husband and two daughters, she started submitting her work to publishers. When she’s not taking care of her family, KateMarie enjoys attending events for the Society for Creative Anachronism. The SCA has allowed her to combine both a creative nature and love of history. She currently resides with her family and two cats in what she likes to refer to as “Seattle Suburbia”.


You can find KateMarie at the following sites:

 Twitter:  @DaughterHauk


Her blog:

Vampires and More- Author April M. Reign-Giveaway!!

Thank you Jessica for giving me an opportunity to be a part of your blog. I’m truly honored.

About April M. Reign

I’m in love with writing. It’s true. I left the company where I worked for over 23 years, so I could pursue my love of writing. It’s a great time for indie authors and these opportunities have given us a chance to share our work with readers around the world. How darn cool is that?

If you’re reading this now, I’m touched and honored. If you’ve read my books, well then, I consider you a good friend.

Aside from writing, I spend a lot of time with family going to the beach, working out and/or hanging by the pool. I have two wonderful sons that are supportive and loving.

Current Project

I am currently working on the 4th book in THE TURNING SERIES called Vampire Curse – The Pendant. 

I’d love to do a GIVEAWAY of books 1 – 3 in a box set to two lucky winners.  It’s simple to enter. Just follow the link:! Your email address is confidential and will not be used for anything else but to notify you if you’ve won. Here’s what you’ll get: ALL 3 NOVELS!



 New Series

I have a new series that will be out by the end of summer called THE GHOST DETECTIVE. I wanted to include the teaser trailer for you to enjoy.


Again, thank you Jessica for giving me the opportunity to share my work with your readers and fans. If you’d like to learn more about my writing or my business, AMR Publishing, you can visit any of the following links to say hi. I’d love to chat.

You can get my book list here:

Author KC Sprayberry-Evil Eyes

Evil Eyes Blurb:

Lisa is so ready for a break from the grueling first semester of college. Along with five other friends, she returns to Landry, and hopes to have nothing but fun. Within days, one of the group is the victim of a vindictive stalker, and Lisa herself is now in the man’s sights. No matter what she does, she can’t shake this person.

Fred has a little problem, but he figures he can take care of it himself, if he achieves fame with his folk rock band, Olney-Oak Lane Sounds. Then he happens to see this beautiful woman, who turns out to be just like every other woman he’s met. He takes care of her, and is immediately drawn to Lisa. No one will get between Fred and Lisa, absolutely no one.

On Christmas Eve, Lisa has to fight for her life and sanity after Fred kidnaps her. She turns out to be very different from the other women, in a way he never figured.


Evil Eyes by K.C. Sprayberry – Stalkers.

She’s hot, has gorgeous two-toned hair framing a face that belongs on an angel. You dated a few times, even seemed to get along, but then you moved on. Problem is you work in the same office, and she’s always humming “Call Me” or holding her hand up by her ear as a hint that you give her a ring sometime.

You’re so over her. Aren’t you the man? The guy who loves ‘em and leaves ‘em? Who does she think she is? So, you ignore this woman. She’ll get the message.

The first text startles you in the middle of an important client meeting “Drinks, sweetie?” You ignore it. To your utter embarrassment, she sends text after text, until you turn your phone off in desperation.

By the time you turn your phone back on, there are over 30 texts and a couple of voice mails. You’re determined to nip this problem in the bud, so you confront the woman. “Get over it. There isn’t anything between us.”

Tears dribble from her eyes. You walk away. You’re not a heel. She deserved the curt reprimand. Why can’t she get the message?

That night, as you’re drifting off to sleep, your phone alerts you to a text. It’s from her. Your eyes roll nearly out of your head. Again is your thought.

The situation escalates until you can’t concentrate. Your job is suffering from her continual contacts. Finally, she sends a text “No one else will have you.” You approach your boss, feeling like a fool. The boss tells you to file a police report and suggests that you change your phone number. The woman is fired for her inappropriate actions.

Is this woman a stalker? Yes. Nothing serious has happened except her inability to walk away from a disinterested male, but she crossed the line by text-bombing his phone. Is losing her job right? Ask yourself if you’d want someone working with you who can’t move on from the end of a relationship?

Stalkers come in many shapes and forms. They can be the guy who looks totally sweet, a pretty girl with everything going for her. Men stalk both women and men, women do the same. Teenagers even experience this horror.

What can you do if you believe someone is stalking you?

  1. Document what you believe are stalking actions. Don’t leave anything out. Describe your feelings.
  2. Don’t think you can handle this on your own. Stalkers are determined to have their target, or no one will have them. Once the stalker makes a threat, whether overt or subtle, contact the police. Ignoring a threat could very well turn out where you are injured or worse.
  3. Most people have phones equipped with cameras and recording devices. Use those to document what’s happening. Save copies of those images and recordings in a secure area, away from your personal computer or phone. Tell a trusted person where the information is, so if the stalker attacks and you can’t speak, what you’ve documented will tell the story.
  4. Never, ever attempt to deal with the stalker alone. We’ve all been taught to stand on our own, to solve our own problems. This isn’t a problem you can solve by yourself. Go places in groups. Don’t give the stalker a chance to get close to you.


KC Sprayberry started writing young, first as a diarist, and later through an interest in English and creative writing. Her first experience with publication came when she placed third in The Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge contest while in the Air Force, but her dedication to writing came after she had her youngest child, now in his senior year of high school.

Her family lives in Northwest Georgia where she spends her days creating stories about life in the south, and far beyond. More than a dozen of her short stories have appeared in several magazines. Five anthologies feature other short stories. She has three books that are Amazon best sellers: Softly Say Goodbye, Who Am I?, and Mama’s Advice. Her other novels available are: Take Chances, The Ghost Catcher, Family Curse … Times Two, Secret From The Flames, Where U @, The Wrong One, Pony Dreams, and Grace. Her romantic suspense novel, Starlight, releases May 2, 2014 from Muse It Up Publishing.


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