THE DAUGHTER STAR - space opera from Susan J. Bigelow

What a rotten way for everything to turn out. Freighter pilot Marta Grayline is grounded, trapped on her miserable home planet by an intrasystem war that’s separated her from her beautiful girlfriend, her career, and everything she loves.

When her sister Beth offers her a way out by enlisting in the Novan Emergency Fleet, Marta jumps at the opportunity to get back into space.

But when her ship is attacked and destroyed, she finds herself stranded on a mysterious space station with a crew that won’t answer her questions.

And, of course, then there’s the aliens – the planet-destroying Abrax that somehow seem to have a hold on Beth.

They’re coming for Marta, too.

She’ll have to face ancient forces, her own doubts, and the inside of an alien mind if she wants to get some answers, complete her mission, and unlock her own latent potential. The Daughter Star, the red beacon in the night sky, may yet be the key to the freedom and understanding Marta so desperately wants.

GOODREADS 


Teaser....

The controls in front of Captain Turn beckoned. “No,” he said firmly. “No, it has to be this way.”
He looked at his own companion Abrac and thought, They must believe in their hearts that there is no way home. There is no other way.
He hummed a little seven-note song to himself as he approached the console.
The other humans shouted in alarm, realizing what he was doing, but by then it was far too late. He rapidly keyed the sequence in.
“God forgive me,” he whispered as fire swept the atmosphere of Earth away below. In less than a minute, it was done. Earth spun lifeless on the viewer, nothing but rock and ash.
 Captain Turn saw the horror and despair on the faces of the other humans, and knew he'd done well.

Three hundred years later

The news hit like a bomb, scattering the pieces of Marta's life in all directions. The notice popped up on her console as soon as she had eased the massive freighter into the dock at Sternhafen Station, high above massive, unforgiving Nea, and the power/data cables were hooked up. She scanned it with half an eye, treating it like any message coming in, but she caught a few crucial words and read it again, riveted to the screen.
“No,” she groaned. “Oh, no, no. Please don't do this to me.”

***

This post is part of the Writers Helping Writers Amazing Race!

From October 21st until October 27th, Writers Helping Writers is posting an OPEN CALL for writers. You can fill out a form, requesting help with critiques, book visibility, social media sharing, blog diagnostics, advice and more.

Each day this week, there's an AMAZING giveaway, too. So stop in at Angela & Becca's new Writers Helping Writers website and find out how to take advantage of this unique, pay-it-forward event for writers. I'll see you there! 

VENGEANCE - Urban Fantasy by Denise Tompkins

The demons that haunt you don’t have to be your own.

Maddy Niteclif’s world has changed so radically she’s no longer sure she recognizes the face staring back at her in the mirror. Pale skin, wide eyes, new scars, and even newer wounds. They’ll heal. It’s the invisible wounds—the ones that disfigure the soul—that pose the most danger.

Hell’s higher thinkers have organized. They’re seeping into the paranormal world, bypassing easy targets as they run larger prey to ground. Maddy is caught in a mad scramble to identify the next target before the demons find the individual. But when the demons’ mark is someone from under her roof, she finds just how far she’ll go to protect those who belong to her.

Maddy is about to learn the most difficult lesson yet: loving someone, seeing his scars ripped open and watching as he’s driven to his knees…it hurts. To save his life means she’ll have to sacrifice the only other man she’s ever loved. There’s only one guaranteed way to ensure both men survive, but it will require the ultimate sacrifice.

Herself.

Warning: Author shall be held blameless for the following: advanced education in creative cursing, carnal desire for characters who may—or may not—be real, the breaking of one or both eyebrows upon reading explicit m/f sex scenes, and the straining of abdominal muscles from laughing, gasping, and/or holding of breath.

***

This post is part of the Writers Helping Writers Amazing Race!

From October 21st until October 27th, Writers Helping Writers is posting an OPEN CALL for writers. You can fill out a form, requesting help with critiques, book visibility, social media sharing, blog diagnostics, advice and more.

Each day this week, there's an AMAZING giveaway, too. So stop in at Angela & Becca's new Writers Helping Writers website and find out how to take advantage of this unique, pay-it-forward event for writers. I'll see you there! 

GEHTYON- YA Sci-Fi by Pippa Jay

Abandoned by his mother after his father’s death, Gethyon Rees feels at odds with his world and longs to travel the stars. But discovering he has the power to do so leaves him scarred for life. Worse, it alerts the Siah-dhu—a dark entity that seeks his kind for their special abilities—to his existence, and sets a bounty hunter on his trail.

When those same alien powers lead Gethyon to commit a terrible act, they also aid his escape. Marooned on the sea-world of Ulto Marinos, Gethyon and his twin sister must work off their debt to the Seagrafter captain who rescued them while Gethyon puzzles over their transportation. How has he done this? And what more is he capable of?

Before he can learn any answers, the Wardens arrive to arrest him for his crime. Can his powers save him now? And where will he end up next?

Goodreads

Excerpt -

A familiar knot tightened in Gethyon’s chest as he watched the others run ahead. Like fish jumping from wave to wave, they leapt through the meadowland, giggling and squealing in excitement. Their laughter drowned out the whispers of blue-green grass dancing around them. Gethyon didn’t share their elation. Instead, a deeper unease weighed in his gut and kept his feet dragging.

Dephon led the way as always, closely followed by Rylan with his white-blond hair trailing behind him. The two girls shadowed them. His sister Callon, her flame-red hair flying like ribbons, ran hand in hand with her closest friend Rechelle.

Rechelle. The name stung every time. Black skinned, black haired and pretty Rechelle, who laughed in his face whenever she saw him, who taunted him each time she stole Callon away from his side, smiling all the while. Anger and resentment boiled in his stomach. It had been Dephon’s idea to race to the top of the ridge, knowing Gethyon couldn’t keep up with them…or wouldn’t want to try. Lagging far behind, Gethyon didn’t laugh or smile. Instead his stomach clenched until he had to swallow down hard on the nausea. Until he wanted to turn around and walk home alone, but then they’d mock him for that too.

Reddish brown hair dangled in his eyes. He flicked it aside with a frown before rubbing sweat-slicked palms down his khaki tunic. The others had come to a stop a short distance ahead and grouped together around Dephon. By the time he reached them, the dark-haired boy had pulled a bag of small, multicolored spheres from his pocket and divided them amongst his friends with generous abandon. Gethyon slowed his approach. No one would want him here, Dephon least of all.

Brown eyes flashing dislike, Dephon stowed the treats out of sight and held his hands out, fingers clenched. “Guess which hand the sweet is in, and you can have it,” he taunted.

Gethyon stared at the outstretched fists and deeper, beyond the covering of flesh and blood to the truth within. “Neither.”

His trick exposed, the boy opened both hands in proof, glowing with spite. “Then I guess you don’t get one.” Turning his back, he took more sweets from the bag and shared them amongst his friends, leaving Gethyon out.

Hurt pounded in Gethyon’s chest as they swallowed theirs eagerly, apart from his sister. She met his gaze with a look of sympathy and stepped closer, offering her own handful.

“You can share mine, Geth,” she said with a tentative smile.

He stared at Callon, aware of the challenging gaze from his opponent over her shoulder. “I don’t want any.”

Another stab of pain at the triumph written on Dephon’s face ripped through him before he turned and walked away, cheeks burning with humiliation. Dephon’s laughter sounded in his ears. He sensed Callon’s pain at his rejection but closed his mind to it. Why didn’t she feel the same hatred he suffered? Why did they accept her so easily…and dislike him so much? It wasn’t fair.

He broke into a run as anger rushed through him more fiercely than his own blood pulsing through his veins. Blind fury drummed in his head and spurred him on. The grasses became a blur of color in his tear-filled eyes, clawing at him as he ran faster. Plants snagged his feet and he fell, sprawled on the earth to lie gasping in pain and frustration. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the grass cuts that laced his bare arms with blood and had taken the skin from his knees in wet, scarlet patches. Gethyon ran on toward the house at the crest of the next slope—his last sanctuary. He burst through the door, his feet like thunder on the pseudo-wooden flooring as he fled upstairs.

***

This post is part of the Writers Helping Writers Amazing Race!

From October 21st until October 27th, Writers Helping Writers is posting an OPEN CALL for writers. You can fill out a form, requesting help with critiques, book visibility, social media sharing, blog diagnostics, advice and more.

Each day this week, there's an AMAZING giveaway, too. So stop in at Angela & Becca's new Writers Helping Writers website and find out how to take advantage of this unique, pay-it-forward event for writers. I'll see you there! 

THE IRON LOCKET - Paranormal Romance by Samantha Warren

She was raised to hunt faeries. He was raised from the dead. 

***

Aiofe Callaghan comes from a long line of faery hunters. Hired by one of the faery queens, they protect the human world from chaos and destruction. But when Aiofe stumbles through an open door into the land of Faery, she discovers the job isn't as simple as it seems, nor is she.

Arthur Pendragon spent centuries in blissful nothingness, until the day the four queens banded together to raise him from the dead. Along with his twelve most talented knights, he leads the warring armies of Faery against the greatest enemy they have ever known: one of their own.

Can they overcome their differences to confront the greatest challenges either of them have ever faced?

GoodReads 

Opening scene...
Kane leaned against the wall drumming his fingers on his sword. As a prince of the Southern land, he was unaccustomed to waiting and it grated on his every nerve that Leanansidhe had the gall to treat him like a common servant. The wooden door beside him slid open and he straightened with expectation.

A pixie scuttled out, carrying a tray with an empty goblet. The door closed behind her again, shutting Kane out with it. His snarl startled the faery and she squeaked, dropping the goblet to the cold stone floor. She leaned over to pick it up, but it slipped through her spindly fingers, clattering across the hall. Kane's anger exploded and he drew his sword to swing at the creature, but she scampered out of his reach. She eyed him briefly, then darted in, grabbed the goblet, and retreated before he could connect with his deadly weapon.

"Get out of here, then," he shouted at her. He didn't need to tell her again. She took off, her flat feet slapping the stones as she retreated.

"Why are you abusing my servants?" Leanansidhe leaned against the oak door frame, crossing her arms over her ample bosom. One delicate eyebrow quirked toward the ceiling and her full lips held a natural pout. Her silky chestnut hair was pulled back into a tight, no nonsense bun, throwing her prominent cheekbones into stark relief.

Kane straightened and sheathed his sword, shoving it into the bone scabbard that hung from his belt. He raised his eyes to Leanansidhe, locking her in his glare. When they first met, she had balked at such bravery, but soon she came to welcome his forthright attitude and refusal to bow down to her as a slave. "You're late." The comment was meant as a rebuke and his irritation bled into his voice.

She smiled, her full lips parting to reveal sharp, white teeth beneath. She sauntered over to him, moving one luscious hip at a time. Her low-cut black dress hugged her figure and accentuated all her curves. A slit up the side revealed one long, powerful leg, its smooth skin peeking through as she stepped toward him. His eyes dropped to her shoes, black and strappy with heels several inches tall, then inched up her body, pausing at the exposed navel. The material covered very little and he struggled to control himself as she reached out with a black nail and traced it along his chest. Despite the heels, she was still slightly shorter than him and she used that to her advantage.

Raising her lidded eyes to his, she smiled. "I am never late, my darling. I am always exactly on time."

He struggled to breath as her nail traced down his chest and across his abdomen. His brain screamed at him to pull away, to insist they focus on business. It was dangerous to let Leanansidhe have the upper hand like this. He knew if he let his guard slip she could get him to agree to just about anything, but at the moment, his body didn't care. It wanted to give in and let her have her way with him. He tilted his head down, his lips craving hers. He saw the predatory smile waiting there, the victory in her eyes, but the pull was irresistible.

The clatter of metal on stone broke the spell. He jerked away, stumbling back several steps to distance himself from the powerful faery woman before searching for the source of the noise. It was the servant he had attempted to kill, trying to gather the tray she had forgotten in her haste to retreat before. She stared at the pair with enormous eyes as she picked it up again. A snarl erupted behind Kane a bare moment before the pixie squealed in terror. Bending in half, she clawed at her feet, screaming with pain and fear. Kane watched as stone crept up the creature's body until she was an unmoving statue.

"Hmmph. That'll teach her." Leanansidhe dusted off her hands as if she had been playing in the dirt. "I never really liked her anyway. Too much of a sniveler." She pulled her face back into an alluring smile and took a step forward. "Now, where were we?"

Kane took another step back and rested his hand on the sword at his side. He squared his shoulders and imagined his face as the stone statue beside him. "We were going to discuss this potential business arrangement."

Leanansidhe's smile was replaced by an irritated pout. She shot a useless glare at the petrified servant and sighed. "You're no fun. Fine. Be that way." She brought back her seductive smile, but this time it held a predatory edge. "But someday, I will have you. Make no mistake about that. I always get what I want, and I want you."

Kane raised his chin and glared at her. "We'll see. For now, we need to discuss business and keep it on a professional level."

Leanansidhe nodded once and dropped her seductress act. Her manner changed entirely, becoming business-like as she turned back toward the door. "Very well. This way."

Kane followed her inside. The room beyond was paneled in rich mahogany with a large glowing fireplace along one end. A velvet-covered couch and several chairs were arrayed in a semi-circle around it. An enormous desk stood about two thirds of the way down the room on the opposite side. Behind it was a plush executive chair that would make even the Four Queens jealous.

The walls were covered with tapestries depicting gruesome battles and wild love scenes, as well as the heads of numerous faeries. Kane recognized several of them. Leanansidhe was well known for her penchant for having debts repaid in a method that was satisfactory to her, though not necessarily to the debtor. Death was her favorite payment of all, especially if it involved trophies.

She strolled across the room, making sure that Kane watched her every movement and he berated himself when he felt disappointment as her bottom disappeared behind the desk. He raised his eyes to hers and she grinned in victory before waving a hand at one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Sit, please."

Kane shot a glare her way, which only caused her grin to grow, but he settled into the chair, placing the bag on the floor beside him. The chair was stiff leather, designed to look expensive and welcoming, but squeak with every tiny motion to make its inhabitant uncomfortable. He almost smiled at the thought. Lea knew how to take advantage of every situation and he was willing to bet that she did not make a single move without weighing every option first.

"So, my darling boy," Leanansidhe oozed as she reclined in her chair, crossing her shapely legs in front of her. He could just see the tip of an exposed knee peeping over the edge of the desk. "Have you done what I asked of you?"

His glare deepened. "Would I be here if I hadn't?" He infused his voice with more venom than usual.

Her eyes twinkled. She knew she was getting to him. He chided himself at falling prey to her games so easily. With a low growl, he opened the bag and withdrew its contents. He tossed the shriveled head onto her desk, watching the blue eyes disappear again and again as it rolled toward her. Her lips curled in distaste as she stopped the offending object by placing one finger on the graying skin. She picked it up by its blond hair and gazed into its eyes. Her annoyance evaporated in a flash, replaced by a disturbing amount of glee. She began to giggle like a school girl chatting with her friends.

"Oh, this is rich. Priceless," she gushed, her eyes glowing with a wild insanity. "Oberon, King of the South. Greatest warrior... or not, apparently." She set the head down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk as she clasped her fingers under her chin. "Tell me, Kane, darling, how did daddy dearest take it when he found out his one and only son was a traitor, hmm? Did it break his poor cold heart?"

The cruelty on her face did not go unnoticed. Kane pressed his lips together and met her challenge with silence. She didn't need to know that his father, the most powerful faery to ever live, had not begged for his own life, but had pleaded with his son to remain faithful. She did not need to know that Kane had shed so many tears, he almost couldn't see his father's chest well enough to pierce it with his blade. She did not need to know that his own mother had stared in silent horror, unable to even cry out, bound by her own child, forced to watch as he ripped the life from his father and then sliced off the man's head to take as a trophy. She did not need to know that Kane's own heart was breaking even then. All she needed to know was that he had paid the price she demanded.

She was still watching him, waiting for him to crack. But true to her nature, she grew bored quickly and sat back, crossing her legs. "Very well. Keep your secrets for now. I shall know soon enough. Anyway, you have proven your loyalty to me. I shall honor your sacrifice by making you my General. General Kane. That does have a nice ring to it, does it not? You will answer to no one but me, and when we remove the old hags from their thrones, Faery will be ours. The South will be yours to rule as you wish, while the rest of the land will be mine. Fair?"

He didn't answer for a moment. Though he had known the deal all along, ever since that first day when he ran into Leanansidhe in the Grey Wood after arguing with his father decades ago, he still was hesitant. He glanced at the table, staring into the cold dead eyes of the man who had given him his name, the same man who had denied him many pleasures and treated him like a common slave most of the time.

"Yes, that is fair. As long as you stay out of the South and let me keep to my business."

"Of course, my darling. The South is all yours, including all of its inhabitants." She placed extra emphasis on the word "all" and he stiffened. She caught the movement and smirked. "Mother is still there, is she not? Alone and afraid, without either of her men to care for her? But with daddy dead, that leaves room for a certain son to step up and take the place of king, does it not?"

"You're sick." He rose and grabbed the bag, stalking toward the door.

"Oh, come now, Kane. Don't be like that. I was only joking."

Her fake apology only made him angrier. He paused with his hand on the ivory handle when he reached the door, turning his head to the side. "When you need me, send word." Then he left, slamming the door behind him. He could hear her delighted giggle through the wood. It seemed to slip under the door and echo down the halls. He leaned against the wall near the statue of the servant, staring at it without seeing a thing. His mind was racing, going over the events of the last several days. He kept returning to one specific image, that of his mother, tied to the bed, screaming at him, pleading with him, the horror on her face when he ripped the life from the only man she had ever loved. He knew her pain. It ripped at him every day, threatening to tear him to shreds.

Pounding a fist against the stone wall, he growled, focusing on the pain blossoming out over his knuckles instead of the unwelcome image of a human girl with red hair, a ghost from his past. He straightened and willed the hurt in his heart to subside. He shoved the new statue out of his way as he passed and smiled in satisfaction as it shattered across the stones behind him.

***

This post is part of the Writers Helping Writers Amazing Race!

From October 21st until October 27th, Writers Helping Writers is posting an OPEN CALL for writers. You can fill out a form, requesting help with critiques, book visibility, social media sharing, blog diagnostics, advice and more.

Each day this week, there's an AMAZING giveaway, too. So stop in at Angela & Becca's new Writers Helping Writers website and find out how to take advantage of this unique, pay-it-forward event for writers. I'll see you there! 

WITCH HEARTS - Halloween Horror by Liz Long!

How does a witch stay safe if a killer can get through her protection spells?

Witches like Ruby and Courtney can take care of themselves. So when Courtney is murdered, Ruby’s world crashes to a halt. The only thing keeping her grounded is the return of Courtney’s brother, Cooper. He seeks revenge, but Ruby wants to help other witches stay alive. To do that, she’ll have to reunite with her old coven’s High Priest, who also happens to be her cheating ex-boyfriend.

If that wasn’t awkward enough, when the killer gets too close, Cooper temporarily moves into Ruby’s place while a police officer tails her every move. Cooper’s presence distracts Ruby as they fight their desire against their need to stay safe. Then Courtney begins to haunt Ruby’s dreams and secrets are spilled, things from Cooper’s past that could get them both killed. The killer continues to stalk Ruby and the more she discovers, the more she fears she won’t be able to keep her heart in her chest.


First Chapter...
The pretty blonde girl running alone at twilight on an empty greenway story never ended well. 

At least, that’s the thought that ran through her head as she jogged the path back to her car, still two miles out. She laughed at herself; she watched too many crime shows. Besides, she could handle a problem if need be.

Thanks to daylight savings time, the decline of people in the park was a natural thing. She just hadn’t expected it to be this empty. None of the usual bikers, joggers, and dog-walkers were around tonight. She glanced up at the darkening sky, knew by routine there would be a full moon tonight. Leaves scraped across pavement in a light breeze. The autumn chill raised goosebumps on her well-toned legs and she promised to wear pants on her next run.

The slight cramp in her leg made her slow to a walk. Catching her breath, she tried to loosen her left calf muscle when she heard a scuffling noise behind her. She risked a glance back and a large shadow came over her as a hulk of a man stood several feet behind her. He didn’t move to greet her. She opened her mouth to speak, but her gut screamed at her. A boulder sat heavy in her stomach; she needed to get away from him. 

For a long moment, they stood at a draw, wondering who would twitch first. He broke the silence and whispered, too low for her to hear with the distance. The streetlight above him went out. Her eyes narrowed and she took a step back. 

The shadow disappeared before her eyes and the streetlight came back on. 

Fight or flight kicked in. She turned to run and slammed into a brick wall of muscle, a large man who grinned over her. Shadows covered him as the streetlight popped and went out over their heads. She opened her mouth to scream and he threw a powder in her face. She smelled lavender, choked on the dust in her mouth as she realized what he’d done to her.

A sleeping potion.

She tried to shout at the top of her lungs, to give him a wallop of his own medicine. Then darkness came over her and she felt herself being carried away. 

For almost an hour, she knew nothing.

Then the pretty blonde girl opened her eyes, squinted into the florescent lights. Despite her exposed half-naked body, fear overruled humiliation. She felt dark magic in her, the power and evil weighing her down. She couldn’t move; he’d tied her down to whatever she now laid on. Maybe she could do a spell to free herself. 

“Goddess help me,” she began in a whisper. 

A metallic clatter near her head made her squeak in fright and a deep, raspy voice cut her off. 

“You won’t be doing any magic tricks this evening.” 

She thrashed her head around, tried to see where this sick bastard stood. She’d throw a flame with her eyeballs if she could, but she wasn’t that powerful. Her best friend could probably figure a way out of this; what would she do? The blankness in her brain only frightened her more. She didn’t want to die. 

“You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart,” the man said. His loving tone made her cringe in fear and she struggled against the ropes on her limbs. 

The girl’s shaking body and slight, panicked gasps only seemed to egg him on. He licked his lips, stepping out of the shadows.

The pretty blonde girl screamed as he pressed a scalpel to her chest. 

***

This post is part of the Writers Helping Writers Amazing Race!

From October 21st until October 27th, Writers Helping Writers is posting an OPEN CALL for writers. You can fill out a form, requesting help with critiques, book visibility, social media sharing, blog diagnostics, advice and more.

Each day this week, there's an AMAZING giveaway, too. So stop in at Angela & Becca's new Writers Helping Writers website and find out how to take advantage of this unique, pay-it-forward event for writers. I'll see you there! 

BLACK HELLEBORE - Superhero Romance by Nicole Zoltack!

Once a year for the past decade, Nicholas Adams returns to Falledge and leaves a black hellebore on his girlfriend's grave. While departing Falledge, he chases after a man sneaking into the laboratory and dies for his trouble. A witch brings him back to life, but Nicholas soon realizes he's not the same man. Turns out, magic combined with a black hellebore in his pocket changed him into a kind of a super man.

His girlfriend's twin, Julianna Paige, is Falledge's deputy, struggling to solve several murders. Nicholas, and his alter ego the Black Hellebore, helps her, even as she helps him move on and even start to love again.

Unfortunately, Nicholas wasn't the only one changed in the laboratory explosion, and now there's a supervillain bent on destroying Falledge, and killing the Black Hellebore. But falling in love might prove more dangerous than any supervillain.

Add it on GoodReads! 



Opening Scene...

Nicholas Adams slowed his motorcycle and stopped at the red light. Not much had changed since the last time he had been here -- a year ago.

He hated the small town of Falledge. Hated the sights, hated the sounds. Held too many memories -- the bad far outweighing the good.

Yet every year, those same memories forced him to return.

He glowered at the red light, willing it to change. It mocked him, making him even more restless than he already was, and he tapped his fingers against the handlebar.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a feeble old woman entering the crossway. She took her time, and soon she was in front of him. He avoided eye contact with her, wishing she would hurry up and cross, that the light would change.

Instead, she stopped in front of him and shouted, "Please, sir, do you have some spare change?"

Nicholas dropped his jaw. Was she kidding him? Asking for money while crossing the street?

He stared at the crosswalk. Several pebbles and small rocks dotted it.

"Please, sir? I don't need much... Say, $5.41?"

The precise number brought him up short, and he lifted his visor and cut his eyes to her. Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out a crumpled up bill and some change. He handed her the five, a quarter, a dime, a nickel, and a penny -- all he had on him, other than a twenty in his wallet.

She thanked him and walked across the rest of the crossway with a lighter step, as if he had given her the world.

The car behind him honked. The light had finally changed color. He jumped forward, and it wasn't until he stopped at another red light that he realized he had given her the exact amount she had requested.

A coincidence.

Still, he found his thoughts returning to the old woman more than the memories nagging him. Just what did she plan to use the money for?

A mile or so down the road, Nicholas pulled into a gas station. He had enough to get to his destination, but nowhere beyond it. After yanking his worn wallet from his back pocket, he opened it up and rifled through it. The twenty he could have sworn would be inside wasn't. He had given the old woman his last cents.

Nicholas groaned. He removed his helmet and dropped it onto the ground. After a moment, he kicked it so gently it hardly moved.

A chuckle brought his attention away from his dilemma. He looked up to see a gorgeous blond. His heartbeat raced, and he found it difficult to swallow. The lovely before him was the one he dreamt of every night.

Yet it wasn't her.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he couldn't hear her. He didn't care to know what she was saying. With a low growl, he jammed the helmet back onto his head. Not bothering to snap it beneath his chin, he jumped onto his bike and peeled away. He knew better than to stop for gas here in town, yet he had stopped anyhow. How could he be so stupid? The whole town was a damned reminder of what he had lost. It was hard enough returning each year; it nearly killed him.

He cut off a car and zoomed down the street. It was time to do what he had come for, and then time to get the hell out of here.

Welcome to Falledge.

Nicholas Adams' personal hell.

***

This post is part of the Writers Helping Writers Amazing Race!

From October 21st until October 27th, Writers Helping Writers is posting an OPEN CALL for writers. You can fill out a form, requesting help with critiques, book visibility, social media sharing, blog diagnostics, advice and more.

Each day this week, there's an AMAZING giveaway, too. So stop in at Angela & Becca's new Writers Helping Writers website and find out how to take advantage of this unique, pay-it-forward event for writers. I'll see you there! 

The Amazing Race!

Angela Ackerman & Becca Puglisi at Writers Helping Writers (formerly The Bookshelf Muse) have added two more books to their Descriptive Thesaurus Collection: The Positive Trait Thesaurus: A Writer's Guide to Character Attributes and The Negative Trait Thesaurus: A Writer's Guide to Character Flaws. To celebrate, they are hosting a race, and not just any old race, either. It's the...

 
Writing is hard, isn't it? Create the perfect hook. Make your first page compelling. Craft an amazing 25 word pitch. Knock out a query that will blow an agent's mind. On and on it goes. And sometimes, well, you just wish someone would help.

WISH NO MORE!

From October 21st until October 27th, Writers Helping Writers is posting an OPEN CALL for writers. You can fill out a form, requesting help with critiques, book visibility, social media sharing, blog diagnostics, advice and more.

An army of Amazing Racers are standing by (ME INCLUDED!) waiting to help with your submissions. How many people can we help in a week? Let's find out! Did I mention there are Celebrity Racers too--amazing authors and editors who know their way around a first page. Maybe one of them will pick your submission to help with!

Each day this week, there's an AMAZING giveaway, too. So stop in at Angela & Becca's new Writers Helping Writers website and find out how to take advantage of this unique, pay-it-forward event for writers. I'll see you there!