Tangled Up in Trouble by Olivia Hardin

Lynlee Lincoln isn’t just a witch, she’s also a Neutralizer. Her job is a juggling act to keep magical and undead clients out of trouble. But getting back together with her old flame throws one more ball into the mix and romance with a guy who has two kids can get complicated. When her old mentor asks her to investigate the goings-on of a dark witch, things turn messy. The witch is stalking supernatural creatures to collect ingredients for a potion that Lynlee can’t seem to figure out.
To keep those closest to her from becoming the next victims, she may have to confront the demons within herself.

EXCERPT:
I was really nervous about keeping Beck’s kids overnight. I adored the rugrats, but I wasn’t sure what to do with them during a full twenty-four-hour period. Still, Beck needed work and he had an interview about five hours away. The kids had school the next morning so they couldn’t go with him.
He needed my help and part of me was honored he would ask. It was a pretty small part and it was quickly being crowded out by the anxiety I wouldn’t let show.
“So Jilly’s bed time is eight. She won’t give you a bit of trouble. Her internal clock seems to be geared towards it and she’s ready to close her eyes at the appropriate time,” he said as he gathered up his bags and slung them over his shoulder.
I didn’t feel the need to tell him that wasn’t surprising given she was a nymph. Just like the patterns of nature, a nymph’s body ran with order and efficiency. Once they had a pattern, they followed it.
“Justin will be a different story. Nine o’clock. No exceptions. At eight forty-five have him brush his teeth, get a glass of water, and hop into the covers. It’ll take him at least that long to settle down.”
The sound of beeping and clicking made its way down the hallway from the kids’ bedrooms. I grinned from the corner of my mouth. “Okay. Got it. What’s for supper?”
“Supper? You’re a woman. Don’t you cook?’
“Pfft! You’re dating the wrong lady if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Beck’s chest rumbled with laughter. “Good thing you’re with me, woman. There’s lasagna in the oven.”
“Wow. Beck the chef,” I murmured with eyes wide. My man never ceased to amaze me. He’d certainly settled into domestic life pretty well. About as quickly as I realized how impressed I was, my stomach sank in consternation. If he was the domestic one, where would that leave me exactly?
“Are you good with all of this?” Beck asked, gathering up his bags and heading for the front door.
“Piece of cake,” I shrugged.
“I didn’t make any cake. You’ll have to work dessert on your own.”
I chuckled and held the door open for him. He made his way out to his truck, tossing his things in the back and then hopping in the driver’s seat. I stood in the doorway a moment, one hand holding the screen door open, the other on my hip. When he glanced at me he clenched his eyes closed and shook his head.
Jumping out of the truck and hurrying up the steps to me, he took my face in both hands and kissed me hard. “Sorry,” he whispered close to my ear. “I’m nervous as hell.”
Pecking his gorgeous full lips one more time, I brushed my hands across his cheek and studied his eyes. “Nervous? Nothing to be nervous about. You’ve got this, Beck. There’s not a doubt in my mind. Now, go knock ‘em dead.”

The first book Trolling for Trouble is forever FREE.

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About the Author

When Olivia Hardin began having strange movie-like dreams in her teens, she had no choice but to begin putting them to paper. Before long the writing bug had her and she knew she wanted to be a published author. Several rejections plus a little bit of life later, and she was temporarily “cured” of the urge to write. That is until she met a group of talented and fabulous writers who gave her the direction and encouragement she needed to get lost in the words again.
Olivia’s attended three different universities over the years and toyed with majors in Computer Technology, English, History and Geology. Thenl one day she heard the term road scholar and she knew that was what she wanted to be. Now she “studies” anything and everything just for the joy of learning. She’s also an insatiable crafter who only completes about 1 out of 5 projects, a jogger who hates to run, and she’s sometimes accused of being artistic.

A native Texas girl, Olivia lives in the beautiful Lone Star state with her husband, Danny and their puppy, Bonnie.

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http://oliviahardinwriter.com

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The Fairytale Mother

Once upon a time two lives intertwined…

A broken heart.

When Andrew Krenshaw’s wife goes missing, terror becomes desperation as he is forced to cope with a world of uncertainty where he has suddenly become a single father, an unfortunate celebrity… a potential murderer.

A hopeful heart.

Melanie Tull has everything she ever wanted in her life… except perhaps love. Her husband is absent and demanding all at once. Her home, a shell of perfection with a cold center. Her life, busy yet vacant.

… Herein lies the tale that binds them.

EXCERPT:

“Does your wife like to jog, Mr. Krenshaw?”
“What?” He was bewildered by the question that seemed entirely out of left field when what mattered was where Corinne was right now—when she was last heard from—who she’d last spoken to. And he didn’t know those answers. He only knew what wasn’t, not what was. One car—missing. One cell phone—missing. His wife—missing.
“Does she jog?” Officer Dennison asked again—the thinner and more talkative of the two who had been dispatched to his home.
“I—I don’t know,” Andrew said uncertainly.
“Could she have gone for a run or a walk?”
Six hours ago? But he didn’t say that. Instead, he stared at the man blankly, a man whose job it was to see the chinks in the world around him, in the story put before him. It was a simple yes-or-no question, relevant or not, and Andrew was unable to answer it. Not definitively. He didn’t truly know what Corinne did while he was so damn busy at work. He watched the man’s gaze shift about the room casually—a shambles; everything moved, touched, rifled through in a panic—and then settle back on him with satisfaction.
A slam-dunk.
A huge fight.
Car ditched along with the resulting body.
Another domestic abuse case ending in tragedy.
Perhaps he’d watched too many TV shows and movies, but even in his state of suspended disbelief—that he was here, in his living room, speaking to the police—Andrew registered the fact that these people weren’t simply coming to his aid. They were also judging his every move. His thoughts turned oddly to vampires. With those two little words—come in—he had invited the law into his home, and now he was going to pay for it.
He knew from the way they looked at him that they didn’t trust him. He hadn’t missed the officer’s subtle stoop to touch the wet spot on the rug, the light searching sniff of his damp fingers, the aroma of alcohol noted as he sat down on the couch. Or the second cop, off to the side, detached, though not-so-subtly holding his hand at his waistband, hovering over the butt of his gun.
Andrew tried to maintain his focus on Officer Dennison, sitting catty-corner to where he sat in his leather chair—a chair that was offered up to him by this stranger, permitting him to sit down in his own living room. And then there were the questions—questions that shouldn’t unnerve an innocent man. Eye contact was important, a show of honesty and earnestness, but he kept catching a glimpse of himself over the cop’s shoulder, his distorted reflection peering back from the metal vase Corinne had placed prominently on the console table behind the couch. The reflection of an escaped lunatic, hair standing on end from all of the times he had run his hands through it since the moment he got home from work—first in frustration and annoyance, then in anger, and now in terror. And the crazed eyes, red from exhaustion and worry, made him look strung out on drugs.
He wouldn’t trust that guy either.

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About Heather

After a childhood spent living in various northern states–New Jersey for half of that (South Jersey, exit 4, to be exact)–she struck out on her own. First stop, Atlanta, Georgia. After attending GA Tech to study Industrial Engineering, she settled down in a small town outside the city where she has remained ever since. She keeps house for one husband, two sons, and a thankless dog (who she adores anyway). Her loves: books, bacon, bargains… heavy metal, Christmas movies… a great pair of jeans… and anything cheesy. The four dirtiest words she knows: wash, cook, dust, iron.

Website http://www.heathermuzik.com/

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Samskaras by Melissa Lummis

When the universe conspired to bring Loti and Wolf together, it was just getting warmed up. After surviving Modore’s attempt to kill Wolf, the lovers want nothing more than some peace and quiet. But the universe has other plans. And Loti and Wolf are done waiting to find out what they are. All too aware there will be no happily-ever-after for them until Modore is dealt with, they form a dubious alliance with untrustworthy forces from Wolf’s past. While searching for clues to the homicidal vampire’s whereabouts, they uncover secrets that begin to unravel reality as they know it. Tangled up in the chaos of black ops conspiracies and fae treachery, they make a fatal mistake—overlooking the enemy in their midst. Can love and light survive a downward spiral into darkness?

EXCERPT:

“Could we please gather over here?” Katie stood by the fireplace, a lifetime of photos lined up behind her on the mantel. The coven milled about as it formed a semi-circle around her.
“We are here to officially induct Heather MacGregor as an apprentice member into our coven.”
Heather stood next to Katie with eyes lowered to the drink in her hands. Everyone had been warm and welcoming, so far. When would her luck run out? When would she say the wrong thing? And make someone mad at her? She wished Christian were there, but knew it would have been awkward. None of the other members brought family or friends. Rachel squeezed her elbow and Heather gave her a grateful smile.
Rachel whispered in her ear. “Relax. It’s going to be fine. You’ll do fine.”
Heather really liked the leggy blonde. She was close enough to Heather’s age so that she didn’t feel completely out of place and she had a way of making Heather feel a part of things. She hoped they would become good friends.
“Heather?” Katie held out her hand. Heather blinked, looking around her in apprehension. “Please take my hand.” Katie gave her a reassuring smile and wiggled her fingers.
Heather looked back at the ten other witches and warlocks. Rachel and Daniel were smiling in encouragement. Theresa’s and Richard’s smiles were more reserved, but still warm. The others were a mix of concern and downright suspicion. What was up with that? She thought she had been accepted unanimously—at least, that’s what Rachel had told her. She extended a tentative hand. Katie squeezed Heather’s fingers and turned to address the group.
“We are welcoming a new apprentice today.” She faced Heather as if she were about to say ‘I do’. “Heather Rose MacGregor, this coven holds to the precepts of karma, that what we send out into the universe comes back to us threefold. We are dedicated to the preservation and practice of witchcraft: the art of it, and the science of it. We use our power for the greater good, for the betterment of all beings and in accordance with the laws of the universe.”
Rachel struck a long match and lit a series of pillar candles balanced on a wrought iron rack in the fireplace. The flames burned straight and true without a flutter. The coven shuffled around, setting down drinks and plates so they could join hands to form a circle. Rachel tucked herself between Heather and Daniel, who linked his free hand with Theresa’s. Richard stepped up to Katie who acknowledged him with a nod as she grasped his hand. The rest of the coven completed the circle.
“Do you agree to hold to our precepts? To use your magic only for good,” Theresa’s eyes flicked from Katie’s face to Rachel’s, “and to preserve our legacy?”
All eyes turned to Heather and she looked like a deer in the headlights. Her heart froze mid-beat. Rachel squeezed her hand and her lips moved in the middle of a frozen face. “I do,” she said. She let out the breath she had been holding and her eyes flowed from one face to the other, trying to take them all in.
“Then we bind you to us, in magic.” Katie’s voice rang out and Heather jumped.
“In magic,” they chorused.
“In practice,” Katie commanded.
“In practice,” the coven intoned.
“And in friendship.”
“And in friendship.”
Katie chanted, “Dharam khand kaa ayho dharma”
The coven answered, “Giaan khand kaa aakho karam.”
The candle flames flickered the tiniest bit as the coven closed their eyes. They repeated the mantra, the voices growing louder, deeper and the candle flames danced in unison. The energy they conjured coursed through Heather, passing through her from Rachel to Katie, then through the others and back around again. Each time they repeated the incantation, a surge flashed through them faster until it become a solid, searing flow of energy. With the last line of incantation, “Nanak ant na ant” the group glowed with an inner light, like one being with one goal.
Katie’s mouth moved, but the entire coven chorused through her. “Heather, we grant you the power to do your duty and the courage to fulfill your responsibilities.”
Heather’s voice echoed in the wind. “I accept my responsibilities and vow to honor my duty.”
A bead of sweat ran down the back of Heather’s neck and her spine vibrated. Something was pressing against a door in her mind and she leaned against it with all her might.
Let us in, Heather.
Katie’s voice was inside her head, on the other side of that door. Remembering what the coven leader had told her about the ritual, she fought to stay calm as she backed away. She gasped as the door creaked open and the coven’s presence filled her head. She braced herself, intent on keeping her unique identity— to stay inside herself—but they surrounded her, until she was part of them. There were no words, only the sensation of being in a crowded room.
Their souls—or whatever it was—gathered around her. Her chest buzzed with excitement and nervousness, while her belly clenched, unsure, suspicious, sad, mad—and glad, grateful. It was a whirl-wind of emotions that weren’t all hers. She realized with an audible sigh that her secrets were safe. No one was going to open the file cabinet of her memories and root around.
With the sense of something heavy clicking into place, it was over and she landed in her own body with a jolt. Her eyes flew open and she tugged hard at her hands. Rachel and Katie let go and she stumbled backwards.
“Are you okay, dear?” Katie caught her arm before she could fall into the fireplace.
Heather’s mouth opened and she nodded without looking at the older woman, her eyes vacant.
“It’s okay, Heather.” Rachel took her other arm and Heather reflexively jerked it out of her grasp. “It’s okay. We didn’t possess you or anything. I told you, when you work with a coven you have to open a link. It’s like a mark, a way for us to sync up when we need to work together.”
Heather hadn’t found her voice yet. The coven’s presence inside her didn’t feel intrusive or aggressive. In some ways, it felt good— warm, welcoming, but that didn’t eradicate the tremble in her stomach.
“I’m okay,” she finally managed. I think. What have I done?
Katie gave a brief nod to Heather and then raised her hands to the coven. “And the first order of business as a complete coven is to assist Calisto and Guided with a little problem.”

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About the Author

Melissa Lummis considers herself a truth seeker, a peaceful warrior, a paranormal and fantasy writer, an avid reader, a thru-hiker GAàME ’98, a wife, a mother, and a free thinker. She believes the universe conspires to help an adventurer. And if we live our lives as if it is a daring adventure (and it is!), then everything we need will find its way to us.

The author lives in rural Virginia with her husband, two children, an Alaskan Malamute and a myriad of forest creatures. The nature of her mind dictates that she write to stay sane. Otherwise, her fertile imagination takes off on tangents of its own accord, creating scenarios and worlds that confuse the space-time continuum. Namaste, dear friends.
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