Wednesday, October 20, 2021

An epic tale of interplanetary struggle – #SciFi #Empire #Giveaway

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AboutThe Cairns of Sainctuarie

Volume I - The Bleikovat Event

Volume II – The Missing Planets

Volume III – Inanna Phantom

From a rocky outcrop a battle-widowed Etkaa, gazed down at the death and upheaval. Rancid green Murian blood stanched the dusklit breezes from the haze-dimmed river marshlands. Nothing has been spared by the Green Dragon forces of Bleikovia. In skirmishes along the Feldon River, EtkaaĆ¢'s mate is fatally wounded with deadly selvon poison. Through a gruesome mountain trek of icy blizzards, they elude the Green Dragon. The battered starving Feldovats reach the coast at Eedov City only to be confronted by their implacable enemy determined to destroy the remaining Klarvkon rabble. Taking passage on crowded Maalon freighters, the refugees escape toward a new life among their Maalon hosts. Enraged Bleikovats move against the Klarvkons, bringing indiscriminate bloodshed. War once again surfaces, as it did in the muddy filth along the Feldon River of Malfesov, and becomes a different kind of war.

Generations after the great Murian upheaval of the Malfesian War against the Bleikovats, the Accords between planets Terato and Myr are signed.

Provisional Outpost Terato is under construction near a farm where Teratoan orphan Eklam a'Qoc lives with his uncle and cousin. Inquisitive strong-minded Eklam, Ek to everyone in the village, is captivated by the off-worlders technology, and becomes an apprentice to the Outpost Terato's Murian commander, Grand Duke Korvo. Uncle a'Qoc disapproves; wants nothing to do with these outlanders, wants their shimmering doorway portals-of-travel banned from Terato. As Outpost Terato becomes operational it seems to become a harbinger stirring ageless secrets of The Old Ones and their frightful weapons, of ancient Teratoan ruins, mysterious glowing lights, unexplained killings, a sacred book in a language no Teratoan can read, a moon that doesn't behave like a moon in its wobbly orbit.

From cosmic reaches beyond space and time the ominous secrets of Terato's ancient ruins become more threatening. Ek and Korvo realize both their worlds face extinction with any hope buried somewhere in unknown galaxies far beyond a pastoral Terato or the sophisticated star-empire of the Murians; of missing planets in a star system with its single star in a galaxy far-removed unknown to Terato or Myr. They travel across the universe to a place long forgotten to fight this unknown foe with weapons only dreamed of. Together they face the beast that wishes to consume the entire universe.

The threat of rift invasions seems long passed. Plentiful harvests abound. The Murian first-contact Terato Outpost has grown into the sprawling Terato-Murian Terminus Terato with a hub of relay portals reaching across the vast uncharted galactic expanses and connecting with its eon-extinct Lantaraan prehistory. An exploratory Terato-Murian Jupiterr outpost is established on the gas giant seventh planet, and its quantum and gravitational energies are used to power outpost portals for an archeological survey of the fourth planet, Eorthe. The Lantaraan database aboard Terato’s ancient Downday moon shows that one or more planets of the Solaris planets have apparently been lost. Expanded archeological records on other Lantaraan orbital bodies in the Solaris system show the fourth planet from the star—Eorthe—to be a sterile wasteland. Except it is not. Eorthe’s civilization is not to the level of the Murian Empire, but it is far advanced to those of a pastoral Terato. Terato and Eorthe form the confederated United Terran League under the nominal figurehead leader of League High Judikarr Eklam a’Qoc. Jupiterr outpost expands into a major League stronghold, Jupiterr Base, when civil unrest erupts in the League, the unexpected return of rift intrusions threatens, and the Murian Emperor Klarvko Celo is assassinated. As they prepare for confrontations with an unknown ancient enemy, the internal tensions on Myr and Eorthe push Murians and Teratoans to dangerous discords.


From Volume I - The Bleikovat Event

There had been warnings…far from the Feldon River, across the flat prairies and far-flung farming settlements, in the grain fields and remote gelf ranches of the far-west reaches of Feldon provinces. Most dismissed them, “…idle gossip from those with too little to do.”

The onslaught struck late and faraway during the last harvesting moons of the growing season, and once again unsettled whispers passed. Among the markets and along trade routes far from the fields and farms of the Feldovat fiefdoms the word spread. That was before dispatch riders and message runners on ponderous muscled claks brought more disturbing rumors: “Heavy raids and ambushes all along the hinterlands this side of the Bleikov-Bormeikovat frontiers.”

One grizzled Murian farmer’s slit-pupils narrowed to thin slivers. Gently tightened the reins. Hooked to the plough, the lumbering gelf plodded to a stop. He laid the planed-wood handles of the plough sidewise onto the fresh furrow. Without moving from the trenched rows the gelf reached its thick neck to nibble the green tufts around its feet. The weathered work-aged farmer carefully slipped the reins off his shoulder. Fingered the split creeping along one sweat-stained handle, “…get this to the woodworker before spring ploughing times. Get it braced before I have to barter for a new plough handle.” Pulled off his wide-brim woven hat; wiped his forehead. Uncorked his gelf-leather water pouch; took long slow swallows. Spit a bitter-chewed slurry of brown chakklu; scowled, "…ill-tempered uplander Bleikovats." Another long swallow…re-plugged the pouch. Bit off another twist of dried chakklu.

About the Author

With postgraduate degrees and faculty positions in several medical universities, Hawk MacKinney has taught graduate courses in both the United States and Jerusalem. His professional writing includes articles on chordate neuroembryology, and aerospace research on muscle metabolic behavior in multi-orbital environments.

In addition, Hawk has authored several works of fiction including a historical romance Moccasin Trace which was nominated for both the prestigious Michael Shaara Award for Excellence in Civil War Fiction and the Writers Notes Book Award. His Cairns of Sainctuarie Science Fiction Series and his Moccasin Hollow Mystery Series have received national and international attention.

Hawk MacKinney will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

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Tuesday, October 19, 2021

I’ve always been fascinated by madness – #Paranormal #Halloween #MFRWHooks

Underground cover

Halloween is hurtling toward us. With starting a new job and trying to finish my latest novel, I haven’t had time to prepare. Certainly I haven’t had a chance to write any new paranormal stories to celebrate what has always been my favorite holiday.

So for today’s Book Hooks hop, I’m sharing the beginning of a chillingly erotic paranormal tale from my backlist, Underground. This intense story about a relationship with an incubus might not be to everyone’s taste, but I think it’s one of the best pieces I’ve ever written.

Note: this excerpt is rated R for graphic language.

The Hook

So maybe it’s not totally sane. I’ve always been fascinated by madness.

As for safe, where’s the thrill in safety?

You can’t, however, deny that it’s consensual.

Ducking into a blank alley, one of thousands in this city, I make my way to the metal door near the end. The keypad gives off a faint green luminescence. I tap in the combination and the door swings open; my pulse is already climbing. My boot heels ring hollow as I descend the industrial steel steps, and the thump of the bass rises to meet me. Excitement wells up, flooding my cunt, even before I’ve buzzed the final door and been admitted to this most particular and perverse playground.

The techno soundtrack punches me in the solar plexus. My heart stutters like I've been shocked by a defibrillator. Delicious weakness sweeps over me, a premonition of what’s to come.

A few black clad figures shuffle to the hypnotic beat, clinging to one another as though drowning. Beyond the dance floor, naked bodies are draped over couches, shackled to walls or splayed wide on the bare concrete floor. Familiar scents reach me—pussy, cum and blood.

Some of those who frequent Underground are actual vampires, or so I’ve heard. I believe it. Others just like to play with knives.

Then there's me.

He is waiting for me in his usual spot by the bar. In contrast to the sunken-eyed Goth creatures who haunt this place, Z looks healthy and normal. Silver-threaded brown curls tumble over his forehead, almost obscuring his eyes, which are the turquoise of a tropical sea. He's fair but not pale, with full, claret-red lips that always seem ready to smile, but never do.

Outside of Underground, we don't communicate. We don't coordinate our encounters. He does not send me messages in the times between, when I'm recovering, or when I'm struggling against my resurgent need. He neither summons nor invites me. Still, I know I'll find him here when I finally stop resisting and descend those stairs again.

Indeed, even here we hardly speak. His utter stillness draws me to his side. When he takes my hand, my pulse flutters and slows, while my sex grows slick with inevitable arousal. He leads me to one of the private rooms, settles me upon the clean white mattress, peeling off my ragged black dress and laddered stockings. Ready for him as always, I wear nothing else.

His fingers are warm against my throat. I smell ice and lilies. He traces my collarbone, circles my beaded nipples, trails his fingertips down the hollow between my breasts to my flat belly. Liquid pools in my cunt and leaks onto the sheets. My clit swells into a throbbing second heart. Lust rages through me. I want to hump the palm cupping my sex, to grab his hand and force his fingers into my slit. I want to clamp down on his fist and drench him with my juices.

Instead I lie motionless upon the cool cotton, as if he'd bound me hand and foot. I wait, as he has taught me.

Desire turns inward, spiraling into a blazing knot in my pelvis, then shuddering up my spine. I watch him shed his unexceptional clothing. His cock rears up from the grizzled nest in his groin, twitching with suppressed power. His naked flesh glows like clouded moonlight. He rakes a fingernail across my aching nipple and captures my gaze with his extraordinary eyes, coming as close to a smile as he ever does. I will myself to stillness, slowing my breath, letting myself drown in those twin lagoons of blue fire.

The nail bites deeper. Blood wells up from the shallow wound. Fear strikes me like summer lightning, before I remember. I want this.

Are you ready, Elena?”

He knows the answer already. But he always asks.

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Monday, October 18, 2021

Review Tuesday: Of Mice and Mechanicals by Kirsten Weiss -- #Steampunk #GoldRush #ReviewTuesday

Of Mice and Mechanicals cover

Of Mice and Mechanicals: A Steampunk Novel of Suspense by Kirsten Weiss

Misterio Press, 2015

Having survived her harrowing confrontation with the Mark, a ruthless cabal determined to steal the results of her brilliant father’s research (in Book 1 of this series, Steam and Sensibility), young inventor Sensibility Grey wants nothing more than to be left alone to build her clockwork marvels. She has established a workshop in the gold-obsessed frontier town of San Francisco, where she supports herself by designing machines for mining entrepreneurs. Meanwhile she secretly pursues her deceased father’s investigations into “aether”, a mysterious force with the potential to transform society – or to power near-irresistible weapons.

Alas, Sensibility’s work attracts unwelcome interest from many quarters. Agents of the U.S. government want to recruit her to the federal cause. Vigilantes, possibly associated with the Mark, keep trying to kidnap or kill her. A medium who claims to have contact with the spirit world believes Sensibility can build devices for him that will scientifically validate the occult phenomena that occur during his seances. Finally, a stranger – a young female inventor at least as brilliant as Sensibility herself – has vowed to revenge herself on Sensibility for the supposed theft of her own father’s aether research.

I don’t just write steampunk; I also love to read it, especially when the stories center around female protagonists. However, as a steampunk author I may be more critical than a normal reader. Steampunk needs the right balance between fascinating but plausible gadgetry and believable alternative history, which is rather difficult to achieve (as I know from personal experience).

I enjoyed this book more than the first installment in Ms. Weiss’ series. Sensibility has more opportunity to demonstrate both her cleverness and her courage. Nevertheless, the myriad characters and multiple crises still struck me as a bit of a mishmash. The plot continues to be somewhat incoherent, and the heroine continues to behave naively, despite all the demonstrated threats to her existence.

The connection of aether with the supernatural, and the appearance of weird other-worldly characters in the story, also violate my expectations for steampunk. There’s technology, and there’s magic; in most cases I don’t think they mix.

The character of Flora is a great addition (as well as the continued presence of dauntless FBI agent Jane Algrave). The chapters told from Flora’s perspective are compellingly creepy. I was disappointed, however, when she vanished from the story without any resolution.

Then there’s the romance thread introduced in the first book, which seems to peter out in this one. The author subtly suggests that one of the federal agents might step into the role of Sensibility’s suitor at some point, but in this book the young inventor is left somewhat bereft when the man she’d started to see as a potential romantic partner turns into nothing more than a friend.

I must say that Kirsten Weiss does a great job on dramatic, climactic scenes. The battle in the Mission church at the end of Book 1 was fantastic. This novel ends with an equally rousing, edge-of-your-seat extravaganza. It’s almost worth reading the book just for this final scene (which I won’t describe, since I don’t want to spoil the pleasure).

All in all, Of Mice and Mechanicals was an enjoyable read, despite my criticisms. I have a suspicion I’ll probably succumb to the temptation to buy the next book in the series.

Sunday, October 17, 2021

Sent to murder the woman he loves.... #MafiaRomance #DarkRomance #Giveaway @TinaDonahue

Target e-reader cover

A Russian kingpin wants her dead… the only one who can stop it is the man sent to murder her.

Toni Flores loved her dream job working for a respected US senator until he raped her. She’s determined to bring him to justice, no matter the cost.

For years, Dimitri Valesky, head of a Russian crime family in America, has bought off those in government. Just like the senator responsible for Toni’s assault. When she won’t keep quiet about it and risks Dimitri’s business, he orders his stepson Michael to kill her.

Michael’s a lobbyist not a mafia enforcer. He refuses the insane demand, but Dimitri insists. The power he holds over Michael and his brothers is absolute… or so he believes.

Rather than murder Toni, Michael intends to romance her. Once he convinces her to keep quiet about the Senator, she won’t be a target any longer and Dimitri will back off on the hit. The plan falls apart and now they are dodging mafia enforcers, bullets, and Dimitri’s outrage.

Michael and Toni fight to stay alive and save those dearest to them as they also fall hopelessly in love.

This is book one in the Valesky Crime Family series and has an HEA.

Publisher’s Note: This contemporary dark mafia romance contains elements of mystery, suspense, action, adventure, adult themes, and possible triggers for some readers.


Once outside the capitol, my phone buzzes. The display shows my mother’s picture and name. Worried, I answer. “Mama, are you all right?”

It’s me,” Dimitri says.

I squeeze the phone, wishing it were his throat. If Mama hadn’t married him… If she hadn’t been desperate about feeding and housing her boys when we were little…

Too late now for regrets. The SOB’s tentacles surround each of us. Unless, or until, I kill him, nothing will change. Before I speak, I make certain to mask my disgust. If I piss him off, he’ll take out his rage on my mother, his nearest and weakest target. “He’s voting your way. This time, he won’t change his mind.”

Khorosho.” Russian for good. “I knew you’d come through for me, Mikhail.”

Only because he has the proverbial gun to my head. There isn’t one thing I don’t detest about Dimitri, including his guttural voice. Despite having lived in the States since he was fifteen, he still has a thick accent.

Wanting to end this as quickly as possible, I lie. “I have another appointment. When I’m through with it, I’ll send you details of what Cyrus and I discussed.”

That’s not why I’m calling.”

Despite the warmish spring weather, my skin goes clammy. “Is Mama all—”

She’s fine, and will stay that way, as long you do what you’re told.”

I long to call him every vile thing imaginable but keep my tongue. Something I learned as a kid. His beatings were always worse if I cried or cursed him. If I was silent, that enraged him further, but he wore himself out faster. A win for me.

He clears his throat, but still coughs, thanks to his three-pack a day cigarette habit. Innocent kids get cancer, but not him. What a screwed-up world.

I have another project for you, Mikhail.”

Damn. “What bill is it this time?”

Not a bill. A woman. Toni Flores.”

I’m crossing the street when he says the name. My step pauses. Someone from behind bumps into me.

She’s causing trouble,” Dimitri says. “You need to get rid of her.”


A different person bumps into me. I cross to the other side. “What are you talking about?”

She’s causing problems for Stowe.”

Lucian Stowe is another senator Dimitri owns. “What kind of problems?”

She’s been claiming to the police and anyone else she can that he sexually assaulted her. It’s not true, but she won’t stop lying about it and she never shuts her mouth.”

I hurry down the street to a less crowded area. “How do you know she’s lying?”

Because I said so!”

In Dimitri’s world that makes perfect sense. “That’s no damn proof.”

Even if she is telling the truth, it doesn’t matter!” He’s shouting louder than I did. “I need Stowe in my pocket! She has to be eliminated! I want you to do it.”

My stomach falls. “No. I don’t do that kind of work. Ever. Especially to a woman who’s—”

I don’t care what she is or how you found out about her. I want it done. No arguments.”

Before I can speak, he ends the call.


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About the Author

Tina’s an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’ Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

On a less serious note: she’s an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, brakes for Mexican restaurants, and has been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while wolfing down tostadas. She’s flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary), rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances she writes.

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The hunt is on... #DarkErotica #Kinky #Swingers @peggaslut

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The Scavenger contains a story that was published on Jennifer Johnson's free blogs in 2020. This book contains an edited version of that story, Part 1: Chapters 1-5, along with a new portion, Part 2: Chapters 6-10. This is a 42k-word story, novella length.

I always thought there was nothing sexier than watching my husband make other women succumb to pleasure. But lately, I’ve wanted to do more than just watch.

As a part of our upcoming anniversary celebration, I’ve created a scavenger hunt. Shawn must have sex with women I’ve hand-picked and collect their panties for me. If he succeeds, the scavenger hunt continues. If he fails, the game is over.

I’ve been secretly recording Shawn’s trysts. It never gets old, and I never grow tired of watching. With every video, I pretend that am my husband, but it’s not enough. There’s something in me that begs for release. Something dark. Something beyond sexy.

Seeing Shawn destroy other women makes me wish I was the one destroying them, and I have a plan that will make it possible for me to get a taste of what being my husband might be like. I’ve never felt this way before, yet I know it’s always been a part of me.

I’m a scavenger, ready to pounce on the scraps of what’s left after Shawn uses women’s bodies. It’s all part of my plan. Will my husband do my bidding and comply?

The hunt is on…

The Scavenger is an erotic bisexual romance starring Rachel and her husband, Shawn. It focuses on the sexy scavenger hunt Rachel has created for him. They’re swingers, and their sex is definitely non-traditional, so if that’s something that turns you on, awesome. If you’d rather read about monogamous people, this book isn’t for you.

This book contains the following fetishes: reverse cuckold, voyeurism, gender fluidity (female with male tendencies), women using strap-ons on other women, girl-girl sex, group sex, swingers, anal sex without lube, bareback sex, eating creampies, and female bisexuality. 

About the Author

Jennifer Johnson is a slut, erotic author, model, and podcaster. She is an advocate for sluts everywhere and seeks to educate others on what it is really like to be a slut. She got her start on Tumblr with her blog, Slut-Problems that garnered 200k followers before its deletion by Tumblr in 2017. Since then, she has created a new blog on Tumblr, Slut-Solutions and also publishes free, daily content on multiple sites. Johnson is the author of two novels, Hollow Girl and Swing Low and has many short stories for sale on Smashwords as well. 

Jennifer Johnson's books, blogs, podcasts, short stories, and pornographic content can be accessed via her website at

Twitter: @Peggaslut
Facebook: Facebook profile
Wattpad: Slut-Problems

Friday, October 15, 2021

He’d keep Olivia in his arms forever – #BDSMRomance #HistoricalRomance #NewRelease

Power and Persuasion banner

Greetings! Today is release day for my new historical erotic romance, Power and Persuasion. I already shared a spicy excerpt on Tuesday for our MFRW Steam hop. Today I have another exclusive snippet, less explicit but perhaps more romantic.

I hope you’ll check the book out. I think you’ll like it. Buy links are at the end of the post.


She’s his natural enemy – and the only woman who can satisfy his perverse sexual desires.

Billionaire industrialist Andrew MacIntyre commands a vast empire of railroads, mines and mills. Labor activist Olivia Alcott is dedicated to helping the factory workers responsible for Andrew’s wealth. They are natural foes, but with complementary needs: his need to command and hers to surrender.


I can’t do this, Andrew. I’m sorry.”

Andrew and Olivia paused together atop the mezzanine stairway that led down to the Great Hall. Music filtered up, along with the swell and ebb of conversation. Although it was barely nine p.m., Catherine MacIntyre’s ball was already in full swing. Her guests had arrived earlier than they would have under normal circumstances, eager to survey the competition—and to catch a glimpse of the unorthodox house guest Andrew had invited to participate in the closely scripted rituals of the wealthy. Gossip had spread the news far and wide. Functions at Wavecrest were usually well-attended in any case, but no one wanted to miss tonight’s festivities.

Of course you can.” He tucked her arm under his and pulled her body closer. The French perfume he’d bought surrounded her with an aura of roses, but underneath, he thought he caught a whiff of her feminine musk. “You look exquisite—the gown is perfection—and you’re far cleverer than any other girl attending. You’ll charm everyone.”

He surveyed his companion with smug approval. With its simple, elegant lines, the peacock-blue silk he’d commissioned suited her to a T. The low-cut neckline left her arms bare and exposed a generous but not improper expanse of fair skin. The fabric clung tightly to her breasts and torso, then flared out over her hips and swept to the floor in a sapphire cascade. Unlike some of the fussy fashions he’d seen, the gown had little ornamentation, aside from the ribbons that hung from the waist, draping the skirt in gleaming loops of satin.

Diamond teardrops swung from her earlobes. A matching diamond on an almost invisible chain nestled in the hollow of her throat and a blue-dyed ostrich feather arched over her upswept, mahogany-brown curls.

Yes, the outfit was worth every penny of the small fortune he’d paid for it. Olivia Alcott was a pearl without price.

Olivia shook her head. “They’ll know the instant they set eyes on me. I’ll die of embarrassment.”

Nonsense. No one can tell whether you’re wearing undergarments. With your figure, you’ve no need of a corset, and it’s warm enough that your nipples are scarcely visible.” He punctuated his assertion with a tweak that made her gasp.

Don’t!” She jerked away from him. He held her fast.

Olivia, did you not agree to be my consort this weekend?”

Yes—yes, sir…”

And to obey me without question?”

And have I not done so?” Her eyes sparkled in her flushed face and he knew she was reviewing the same glorious recollections that had him half hard in his tailored tuxedo trousers.

Yes, yes, you’ve satisfied me in every way, my lovely slut. Tonight, though, I need you more than ever, here by my side. I must make it clear to my mother and to society at large that I am not in the market for a wife.”

So I’m to play the role of your mistress, then?” The sharpness in her voice surprised him. He brushed his lips across her ripe ones, savoring her sweet breath.

What do you care what those hypocrites think of you? You’ll never see them again.”

Olivia did not answer. She peered down the stairs, into the brightly lit hall—the lion’s den. “You’re right,” she answered at last, her voice low and resigned. “It doesn’t matter at all. Let us go.”

Andrew guided her down the carpeted steps, his hand upon her elbow. He’d planned to make an unobtrusive entrance. However, when they appeared in the arched entry, every single person in the room turned to survey the new arrivals.

Couples stood frozen on the dance floor. Wine glasses paused halfway to their owners’ lips. The orchestra continued to play, but the occupants of the room were as motionless as machinery without power.

His mother, in a cluster of gaily clad ladies near the windows, shot a pointed stare in his direction. He executed a gracious bow in her direction. As the musicians brought the current song to an end, he addressed the assembly as a whole.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am delighted to welcome you all to Wavecrest. Please enjoy yourselves—and if I can do anything to make your evening more pleasant, do not hesitate to ask.”

He nodded to the orchestra leader, who struck up a new waltz. As though waking from a dream, the guests resumed their drinking, dancing and conversation.

Miss Alcott, may I have the pleasure?” He held out his hand to his companion. In the brilliant light of the massive electric chandeliers, Olivia looked more enchanting than ever.

It would be an honor, sir.”

She was light as a breeze, sure-footed and graceful, following his lead without the slightest misstep. His hand settled on her waist, where he could feel her warm flesh shifting under the silk. Her fingers enlaced with his, she focused on his face as he swept her around the floor. In her eyes he read desire, need and a raw devotion that humbled even him. They were silent as they danced, but their eyes and their bodies spoke volumes.

The waltz ended. Another began, then another. Olivia’s lush form moved in perfect synchrony with his own, dipping and twirling, responding to his slightest cues. Andrew fell into a sort of lustful dream. He wanted the dancing to never end. He’d keep Olivia in his arms forever.

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Thursday, October 14, 2021

Will love rekindle as murder stalks them? #HistoricalRomance #FrenchRevolution #Giveaway @DSLewisHE

To Entice a Spy cover


In 1794, widowed Countess Eseld Trehearne seeks revenge for the brutal death of her female companion during a Paris riot. On her return to England, Eseld delves into espionage to defeat the French rebels.

Baron Robert Penhale, Eseld’s childhood love, rejoins the Secret Services after his wife’s death. He’s determined to protect England from the revolution terrorizing France.

A ruthless French spy fights for the common man while disguised as an English aristocrat. He’s intent on revenge against those who oppose him.

With the spy stalking them and Robert in fear for Eseld's life, the fate of the couple verges on disaster.


Don’t you wish to celebrate with us, Citizeness?” A drunken man with pocked cheeks spewed spittle in her face. “Where’s your tri-color cockade?”

I’ve lost mine.” Eseld swept her hand to her collar and winced. “Please excuse us; we’ll celebrate later.”

She swore silently as she’d forgotten to use her roughest French. Her tricolore had been swiped by a scrubby boy near the entrance gate.

Hester held aside her cloak, displaying hers. Eseld gripped her friend by the shoulder and rushed with her into a narrow passage, which turned at a right angle. The hotel was located in a court, at number 8. Dank air filled her lungs as her pulse hammered.

That one sounded like a ci-devant,” the drunk accused, his shout echoing after them. “I want to know what they’re up to.”

He and his slouching friend ran after them, boots beating on the cobbles.

We should’ve brought a pistol, if we owned one,” Hester said with a gasp as they hiked up their skirts and bolted.

The two men were on them in a few seconds, in a waft of perspiration and cheap wine. The first drunk, in his ragged black coat, grabbed Eseld and swept off her hood. “She’s a pretty one. With witch’s red hair.”

Please, let us go.” Her lips trembled, but more with anger than fright. She struggled to stay calm. “We are loyal citizens. You have no reason to harm us.”

I’ll wager your skin is soft.” The drunk shoved her up against a mold-stained wall.

About the Author

Diane Parkinson (Diane Scott Lewis) grew up near San Francisco, joined the Navy at nineteen, married in Greece and raised two sons in Puerto Rico, California, and Guam. She's a member of the Historical Novel Society and wrote book reviews for their magazine. She’s always loved travel and history and has had several historical novels published. Her most recent is the Oyster War Novel set in the 1950s: Ghost Point.

Her spy novella, To Entice a Spy, set in England during the French Revolution—two former lovers chase a ruthless spy; will love rekindle as murder stalks them?—will be released on October 11, 2021.

Diane lives with her husband and one naughty dog in western Pennsylvania.

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