Taste of Kiwi

The topic for this week is food. As much as I enjoy food and cooking, I don’t have many foodie scenes. Most of them are picnic scenes. In the end I chose this scene from Lynx to the Pharaoh, a historical romance with a feline shapeshifter hero.

Lynx to the Pharaoh by Shelley Munro

“I’d love to visit the oasis,” Charlotte said, ignoring the feminine pride inside warning her she would not look her best after sleeping in her clothes. And the knowledge that she shouldn’t go anywhere with a man she didn’t know. She risked another glance at him, and the silent gleam of approval in his eyes warmed her all over. This early in the morning, she couldn’t blame the heat of the sun.

They passed the camp, and as Sethmet had said, no one stirred apart from the servants. Charlotte told herself her brother would never know. They arrived at the edge of the oasis more quickly than she would have liked. Countless questions trembled at the tip of her tongue. Curious as a cat. That’s what George used to say, always in a chiding manner. Could she help it if she liked to learn new things and gain knowledge?

Sethmet stopped by the edge of the lake, in a small private spot screened from the main path, glad Lady Charlotte had agreed to accompany him.

A gentle breeze played a musical tune as it blew through the reeds. Not far from them a heron stabbed the water with its beak and came up with a wriggling silver fish.

He placed his basket down and helped Charlotte sit on a flat rock. Her lack of primping and fussing gained his approval, not that she needed to preen. Sethmet opened his woven basket. He had to stop the urgent need to touch, to run his hands across her silky cheek. A bark of laughter escaped at the thought. No doubt the lady would slap his face at the presumption.

“Is something funny?”

“Not a thing,” Sethmet said. “Would you care for flat bread and cheese?” He spread a blue woven cloth on the ground beside them and set out the food. The instinct to serve and nurture Lady Charlotte, or Charlotte as he thought of her, came as a surprise. Most women ran after him, but being with Charlotte felt right. He didn’t feel pressure or hunted for matrimony. He wanted to protect her, even if she came from the English camp and was possibly an enemy.

Charlotte was no longer committed to a man.

Satisfaction swelled within Sethmet along with an urge to kiss her. Hell, he wanted to do more than that. He wanted to claim her as mate. The thought gave him pause because he knew nothing of her. Yet he didn’t worry overly. Swift courtships were normal in his family, and their decisive nature when taking a partner was one of the gifts that came with feline powers. Everyone in his family married for love. They might argue at times, but he had no hesitation about following his heart.

He glanced up from laying out the food and saw Charlotte studied him avidly. For an instant, open desire shimmered in her blue eyes before her lashes lowered to screen the emotion.

Sethmet acted on instinct, going with his gut. He leaned toward her and took possession of her lips in a slow kiss of exploration. When she didn’t object, he deepened the contact, sliding his tongue across her soft, pink lips and urging her to open her mouth so he could taste. She was so soft, tasted so sweet, and he wanted more.

Purchase from Ellora’s Cave or Amazon Kindle

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

Mari Carr
Shelley Munro
Vivian Arend
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
Lauren Dane
Jody Wallace
TJ Michaels

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I’m visiting The Romance Reviews today and answering questions about my dark side. You didn’t know I had one, did you?

House of the Cat received a Reviewer Top Pick from Night Owl Romances. ” House of the Cat was a fun and erotic story that will have you coming back for more by Shelley Munro.”

Romance Reviews Today reviewed Tiger By The Tail – “Erotic exploration and engaging characters make TIGER BY THE TAIL a captivating story, whether you’ve read the previous books or not.”

Congratulations to Heidi who is the winner of my newsletter members only contest for July. All you need to do to be eligible to win future prizes is sign up for my newsletter. A signup form is at the top right of my blog.

I’ve completed edits for Resisting Tamaki, a sci-fi romance, for Ellora’s Cave. I should have a release date for Resisting Tamaki very soon. Edited to add: My release date is 1 October.

It’s Friday the 13th today. Do you think Friday 13th is unlucky? Is it unlucky for you?

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Yay! Blue Lady, book ten in my Middlemarch Mates series, is out today. Blue Lady features Emily and Saber who were first introduced in Scarlet Woman.

Read the Blue Lady blurb and excerpt

Purchase Blue Lady

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Blue Lady, book ten in my Middlemarch Mates series is due out on 11 August at Ellora’s Cave. I’m giving away a download to one commenter.

Tell me what you do to cure the blues. What do you do to cheer yourself up when you’re feeling down in the dumps?

I usually go for a walk or find my husband and pester him. He has a way of making me laugh that always cheers me up. He also brings home chocolate and chocolate makes everything feel better!

I’ll choose the winner tomorrow night (New Zealand time) and announce it in the comments section.

Here’s the blurb for Blue Lady:

Saber and Emily are longtime mates. Happiness has been theirs, until the tragic loss of their unborn baby.

Saber is desperate. Emily has shut him out, wallowing in depression. They inhabit the same house, but his loving mate has withdrawn, and he wants his happy, matchmaking woman back. It’s time to up the ante. Armed with a bag of sex toys from his wild twin brothers and a tropical island setting, Saber is determined to seduce his mate to his way of thinking, to drive the blues away, and he won’t take no for an answer.

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This week’s theme is black moment. According to Complete Idiot’s Guide to Getting Your Romance Published by Julie Beard, the black moment is the point in a romance where the relationship appears doomed because the characters are unable or unwilling to resolve the core inner conflicts keeping them apart. Neither the characters or reader can see how the problem will be resolved.

Every romance has a black moment, and they usually come toward the end of the book. Since I don’t like to give too much away, I thought I’d take an excerpt from Leticia’s Lovers. I think many readers hesitate to pick up this story because the heroine has FIV, the feline version of AIDs. Although the story is sad—I cried while I was writing it and I picked on Leticia during this story with an entire series of black moments—I do manage to give her a happy ending. You’ll just have to trust me on this.

Leticia’s Lovers by Shelley Munro

Morning came all too quickly. They shared a quick shower with only mild groping before they both dressed for work.

“Will you come and stay tonight?” Gavin asked.

Charlie tossed his damp towel aside and strode the two steps needed to reach Gavin. “The idea of not being with you hadn’t occurred to me.” He dragged Gavin into his arms and kissed him, not roughly but slow and gentle, pouring every writhing emotion inside into his kiss. When he lifted his head they were both breathing hard.

“Damn, I wish I didn’t need to go to work,” Gavin said with a glance at his wristwatch.

“I know the feeling. Do you have time for a coffee at the café?”

“No, I have a patient arriving in half an hour. I’ll have to prepare the surgery.” Gavin lifted his head, glancing toward the surgery with a frown. His shoulders tensed beneath Charlie’s hands. “Fuck.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Gavin didn’t sound very certain.

Charlie heard the tap-tap of shoes and turned to the door. “Your patients come to your bedroom? Is there another door I should have locked last night?”

“The one to the surgery waiting room,” Gavin muttered. “I forgot to check it. I had other things on my mind.”

“Gavin, I thought I’d—” A decidedly feminine form skidded to a halt in the doorway.

Leticia—the woman from last night. Today she wore tight jeans and a formfitting T-shirt in pale blue. She wore a cap on her head, her blonde hair poking through the back in a long ponytail. What little color she had in her face flooded away when she took in both Gavin and Charlie. They both wore trousers but neither had donned shirts and they stood way too close to try the casual friends ploy. The scent of sex hung on the air and the rumpled bed gave more than a hint of how they’d spent their night.

Leticia’s brown eyes swept over Charlie, coming to rest on the mark. His skin prickled as if she’d physically touched him and he automatically covered the raised site with his fingers.

“You marked him?” The pain in her voice had Charlie wanting to comfort her. He noted it had the same affect on Gavin. Collectively they took a step toward her.

Leticia slapped her hand over her mouth and backed up, her eyes wide with panic and betrayal.

“Leticia, it’s not what it looks like,” Gavin said.

“Oh yeah?” Bitterness filled her words. Her eyes swept over both of them, skimming their bare chests and the obvious marks on their shoulders. “He bit you too. You can’t—I thought we…oh hell.” Leticia turned and fled.

Purchase Leticia’s Lovers from Ellora’s Cave or Amazon Kindle

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

Mari Carr
Shelley Munro
Vivian Arend
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
TJ Michaels
Lauren Dane

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My special guest today is debut author, David Bridger. I’m thrilled to introduce you to David and his first book, Beauty and the Bastard, which is available now from Liquid Silver Publishing. Today he’s talking about quiet experts, trees and romance.

Thank you for inviting me here today, Shelley. It’s an honour to be here with you.

I live with my wife and our daughters in a house on a quiet leafy avenue, halfway up one side of a wooded valley on the south Devon coast, in England’s West Country.

My Royal Navy career moved us around the world regularly, so we experienced life in a lot of places before deciding to settle here. The mild climate is just about perfect for us, although of course we moan about it if summer stays wet from spring to autumn, and it keeps our valley green and luscious.

It keeps the Plane trees that line our avenue growing vigorously, which is fine by me but not so popular with everyone else – including my wife and our next-door neighbour.

I love those trees. They were planted when the road was laid and the houses built, which happened to be the same year I was born, which makes it a damn good year in my book. But that’s only an incidental. The real reason I love them is that for several bedbound years, while I worked through pain to recover movement and mobility after an injury, those trees were all I saw of the world beyond my bedroom window.

In spring, I watched wood pigeons nesting in the crook of two thick branches only a few feet away from my pillow, and enjoyed their little families while they grew and flew as life budded and burst open all around them.

In summer, heavy foliage filled my vision and shaded the inside of my bedroom a lovely cool green, and middle-of-the-night rain storms turned into soothing percussion symphonies, and squirrels poked their cheeky faces out to chuckle at me while they chased one another round and round.

In autumn, spectacular golds and reds framed the ever-changing landscape that opened up to me as the valley became visible again, and the afternoon sound of my girls swishing home from school through mounds of fallen leaves rose to my ears.

In winter, I sketched the architecture of the trees and marvelled at their supple fortitude when gales thundered in from the ocean and battered them without mercy for weeks on end.

And round again into spring.

I built a relationship with the trees. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not a tree-hugger. Okay, so maybe I have hugged them once or twice. Don’t tell anyone, okay? They mean a lot to me.

But not everyone feels the same way. My wife and our neighbour get their knickers in a twist about the trees every two or three years, when their branches grow long enough to tap at our upstairs windows and rap on our roof tiles.

They’re protected, though, so no one except the local council is allowed to touch them. And the local council is always strapped for cash so the pollarding doesn’t happen as frequently as certain people would like it to.

Which is good news. I remember my distress the first time I watched a gang of men cutting the branches back hard and removing the top third or so of the trunk, two or three years after we moved in here. Can trees scream, or was it only the chain saws I heard? I didn’t know then, and I’m still not certain now.

Next time, five years later, I spoke to the man in charge of the council department. I was out of bed and in a wheelchair by then, re-emerging into the world and on my way to getting back on my feet. He was new in the job and I was impressed at his knowledge. He agreed with me that the previous pollarding had involved unnecessary savagery, and explained his methodology, which was all about encouraging healthy growth in the trees rather than simply hacking back an expensive nuisance.

When my wife and our neighbour telephoned yesterday to complain that the trees need cutting back again, I was happy to discover that he is still in his job. He told them politely but firmly that the trees are pollinating right now, so the pollarding will have to wait another four weeks or so. Good man!

You know, I really like meeting quiet experts.

I love meeting them in the world of romantic fiction.

This morning I walked in on a conversation between two of my publishing industry friends, who were talking about romance novels and sharing a condescending chuckle.

Now, these are good men. Pleasant, intelligent, well-adjusted men. I respect them and value their friendship. But right then? Well, you know.

The romance world is full of experts, people who know exactly what they want and people who know exactly how to deliver it, and none of them deserve the condescension of people on the outside who don’t actually know what they’re talking about.

Romance readers are absolutely experts. Anyone would have to go a long way to find another group of readers more knowledgeable and enthusiastic about their chosen genre. Romance readers definitely know what they like.

Romance publishers are experts. At every stage of the publishing process, experts work hard to offer readers an astonishing variety of wonderful treasures.

In the romance world, readers and authors are respected, well-treated and happy, and who can ask for more than that?

I suggested to my friends that all these experts – readers, authors, editors in their various roles, and cover artists – seem to be doing it just right. Because romance is booming while most other segments of the publishing industry are only farting.

I love being a romance author. I’m proud of our industry and I love the people who make it what it is.

That’s you. Thank you!

You can buy David’s debut book now from Liquid Silver Books.

Saul the Bastard is a fallen angel who works as a bounty hunter for powerful urban demon families. Rebecca Drake, a modern day demon princess, is being hunted by dangerous desert demons. When Rebecca’s family hires Saul to protect her, they are both unhappy with the arrangement, but before long sparks fly as they try to resist their strong mutual attraction. For the first time in living memory, Saul has someone to love; someone he is scared of losing; someone the desert demons have marked to be their next sacrifice.

Read an excerpt.

CONTEST: I thought I’d give away a download of David’s debut book to one person who comments on this post or asks David a question about his book or writing. I’ll choose the winner tomorrow.

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The theme for this week is vacations and exotic locations. If you’re a regular visitor to my blog you’ll know that I love to travel. I’m all about vactions and exotic locations. (Check my photo album to see some of the places I’ve visited.) My snippet this week is from my recent release Tiger By The Tail, and the heroine, Ambar is in Samoa for a short holiday.

Tiger By The Tail by Shelley Munro

Ambar ambled to the swimming pool, pausing at the poolside shower to wash the white sand from her feet. The days had slid together and she hadn’t looked at a clock since leaving New Zealand. She’d come to a decision about her mates though. In the end, it hadn’t been difficult because she’d pined for Jake and Hari even more than she’d missed her brother and Kiran. She’d made a list as Isabella had suggested, going for total honesty since no one would see it apart from her. The big disadvantage was the possible restrictions on her freedom. She considered her friends who were in relationships and had officially mated, acknowledging they all seemed incredibly happy. Somehow, she would work things out too. When she returned to Middlemarch, she needed to discuss the future with Jake and Hari and lay out all her fears. She’d discuss things calmly without panicking.

Ambar scanned the pool area. Due to a camera crew preparing to film a tropical version of a popular reality show, there were lots of people her age staying at the resort. She’d made friends quickly, although without Jake and Hari it felt as if a part of her were missing. The anger and confusion that had hovered like a storm cloud when she left New Zealand had cleared, a few days helping her to see things at a distance. She had feelings for both men. Whenever she’d considered her future, she’d hoped to have a mate. She just wished it had happened when she was older.

“Ambar! Over here.” Anna, one of the girls she’d met on the first day of her holiday hailed her. “We saved you a lounger.”

Ambar smiled and waved, heading in her direction. She dropped her orange straw basket on the ground and shrugged out of her coverall to reveal her lime green bikini.

“Ambar, are you sure you don’t want to go out with me tonight?” Sam, a cameraman from Texas leaned close, his face full of expectation.

“I told you. I have someone in my life.” She waved her left hand at him to flash the gold ring she’d inherited from her mother. Normally it resided on her right hand, but instinct had made her transfer the ring to her left soon after her arrival. Another telling action, she realized. She thought of herself as taken.

“I’m not sure I believe you,” he drawled as his gaze did a smooth trip from her head to toes and back again.

“If Sam can ask you out, then I want to throw my hat in the ring too,” Gary, one of the soundmen said.
Anna waved a languid hand at her. “Leave her alone, boys. She’s already told you she’s not available.”

“Tell us about your man,” another woman said.

Ambar blushed, thinking the relationship she’d become embroiled with was hardly traditional. “It’s too hot for a chat. I’m going for a swim. Anyone up for a game of volleyball?” She indicated the volleyball net strung over a portion of the pool.

“I’m knackered after trudging halfway around the island scouting for film locations,” Anna said in her English accent. “I’m staying right here.”

A punch of longing hit Ambar, the accent reminding her of Hari. Did she miss them? Yes. Did she want to give up her dreams? Definitely not.

A dilemma, that’s for sure. Hopefully they could reach some sort of compromise.

“I’m in for some volleyball,” Sam said. “I’m on your team, Ambar.”

Ambar jumped into the pool, the water slipping over her skin in a cool kiss. Like most tigers, she loved the water and felt perfectly at home in it. With a whoop Sam and several of the others, both male and female leapt into the water. They were soon embroiled in a hard-fought volleyball match, shouts and victory cheers filling the air.

Ambar watched the ball sail over the net and called it. She jumped from the water, doing a perfect spike over the net.

“Woohoo!” Sam shouted, pumping his fist in the air. With each successive point they scored, the man became more exuberant. He hugged her, copping a feel at the same time. The first time she ignored it. The second time she started to get pissed.

“Knock it off, Sam.”

He shot her an innocent look, as if he didn’t know what she was complaining about and moved away.

Ambar held her breath and counted swiftly to ten. The next time he touched her she intended to deck him.

Purchase from Ellora’s Cave, All Romance eBooks or Amazon Kindle.

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

Mari Carr
Shelley Munro
Vivian Arend
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
Ashley Ladd
Emma Petersen
TJ Michaels
Jody Wallace

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Go on…I dare you. Check out my new release–Tiger By The Tail, book nine in my Middlemarch Mates series.

Middlemarch Mates, Book Nine

One plus one equals three.

Tiger shifter Hari Daya takes one look at Ambar Patel’s photo and is smitten. Further research heightens his fascination. An arranged marriage would work, except the lady isn’t buying and tells him to take a hike.

Ambar is already involved with human Jake Quinn. Casual pleasure and lovin’ works best for her since she dreams of traveling the world and delving into new experiences. The frisson of heat and desire she feels for Hari is unacceptable. There will be no tiger mate for her.

Jake Quinn has no idea either his lover or his new friend are shifters, but there sure as hell is something weird going on in his head. As much as he enjoys sex with Ambar, he’s thinking about Hari too. Suddenly there’s kissing and togetherness way past his comfort zone. The slide into sinful pleasure with both Hari and Ambar is easy—it’s the relationship dynamics that give them headaches and make them wonder if they’re making a huge mistake.

Purchase from Ellora’s Cave

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I have a new release called Seeking Kokopelli out at Samhain on Tuesday. As the title suggests, my romance incorporates the legend of Kokopelli.

Thirteen Things About Kokopelli

1. Kokopelli has been a sacred figure to Native Americans of Southwest America for thousands of years.

2. He’s found in several Native American cultures such as the Hopi, Anazasi, Taos and Acoma.

3. He’s a flute player who is traditionally shown with a humpback.

4. He’s also known as a fertility figure.

5. He’s also a trickster and is very mischievous.

6. Kokopelli often displayed a long phallus, symbolizing the fertile seeds of human reproduction.

7. Some people think the hump is actually a bag of gifts or seeds that Kokopelli plants each spring. Some people think he carries babies in his hump and hands them out to women. This means he’s not popular with young women.

8. It’s said that Kokopelli would visit a village and on leaving the next morning all the women of marriageable age would be pregnant.

9. One of his other duties was changing winter to spring.

10. It’s said you can hear Kokopelli’s flute on the spring breeze.

11. Petroglyphs show that Kokopelli has been around for many thousands of year.

12. He was a flute-playing Casanova.

13. My book Seeking Kokopelli is due for release on 29 June.

Love never hits a wrong note.

Ever since Nate McKenzie hired on as a roadie, musician Adam James has lusted after him. So far Adam has kept his distance, knowing Nate is mourning his dead wife. But lately Adam has caught the man returning his stares. Maybe it’s time to test the waters.

Besides, there isn’t much chance Nate will find out that Adam was once his people’s Kokopelli. His powers were stripped from him, along with the magical tattoo on his chest, when his orientation was discovered.

Nate is going crazy with guilt. Before his wife’s death, he never looked at anyone else, woman or man. Now his dreams are filled with Adam. He tries to keep his mind on his job and off Adam’s sexy body, but in a moment of weakness they share a kiss that sends them both up in flames.

Their relationship risks both their hearts and Adam’s female fan base, but the attraction is too strong to ignore. Then someone takes a shot at Adam—and his tattoo begins to reappear, forcing him to come clean with his lover. And Nate to decide exactly where his future lies…before a killer steals it away from them.

Warning: This book contains rockin’ music, smoky pubs, the mystical legend of Kokopelli and lots of playful, hot manlove.

Do you enjoy stories that incorporate myths, legends or fairy tales?

Sources:
www. jowsey.com/kokopelli/kokopelli.html
www.kokopelli.com/whowaskok.html

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My special guest today is Madelyn Ford, author of My Avenging Angel. Check out Madelyn’s cover – isn’t it gorgeous? Today Madelyn is telling us how her story came to life….

My Avenging Angel was the little novella that almost didn’t get written. I was in the middle of edits with my first published novel, Faith Revisited, when just by chance, I had run across an open submission call for Samhain on a loop. It was for an Angels and Demons anthology, and since I write about angels, I thought it was a no brainer. Until I sat down to write the darn thing.

Having less than a month before it had to be turned in, I agonized over the story, uncertain even who I was going to write about. I was already in the middle of a story about the Archangel Gabriel, but knew it would far exceed the 30K limit, so that was put aside. I was discussing a book my friend Kris was reading, something that had to do with summoning a demon, and I said flippantly, “Wouldn’t it be funny if I wrote about a witch who accidently summoned the wrong angel.” And voila, My Avenging Angel was born.

Having never written a novella before, I spent the two weeks waiting to hear back in a state of complete anxiety. Novellas are a tricky beast, for them to really work, they have to be done well, and truthfully, I wasn’t certain I had accomplished that. This was Samhain, one of my dream publishers, so I waited. And waited. Nail biting ensued. The day I was supposed to hear back came and went. And nothing. I knew others had received rejections. They posted on that loop that they had and yet nothing showed up in my mailbox. Had they not received my manuscript? Had the rejection email gotten lost? I obsessively hit the refresh button until I could no longer keep my eyes open, and finally with a heavy heart, I went to sleep.

The next morning, the first thing I did was check my email and my heart sank to my toes. It had finally come, the rejection of all rejections. (Now I know where my oldest gets all her drama, lol) I was terrified to open the email, caught between fear and abject curiosity, and stared at it for several minutes. Then swallowing the huge lump in my throat, I clicked it open.

Thank you for giving Samhain Publishing the opportunity to review your work, My Avenging Angel, for possible publication. I really enjoyed your story and would like to extend an offer of publication for this manuscript for the Angels and Demons Anthology.

I paused, went back, read it again, and then sat in stunned silence. I seriously thought I must have read it wrong, so I read it again. This continued throughout the day. I must have read that email two dozen times, just to confirm I hadn’t dreamed it.

So for those of you who want to be published someday; you can’t have a career in writing if you don’t ever try. First write your book, it will be your greatest accomplishment. Then find yourself a really good critique partner. They are priceless. And finally keep submitting. All it takes is that one editor who has faith in your ms. Keep persisting and you’ll find him or her.

My Avenging Angel blurb:

To save her life, he must break a covenant—and lose his heart.

An Angels and Demons story.

It’s Victoria Bloom’s twenty-fifth birthday. But is she out celebrating? Oh, no. She’s in a stuffy old attic with the Three Stooges—a.k.a. her so-called spirit guides. There’s a demon who wants her dead, the same one that killed her mother two decades ago. No worries, say the Stooges. All she has to do is summon an angel. What could go wrong?

Well, plenty when you summon the wrong angel. The next thing Tory knows, she’s got one very bad-ass, pissed-off and sexy Archangel on her hands.

Michael, mighty warrior, leader of an elite team of demon killers, is shaking in his heavenly combat boots. Not because he finds all humans distasteful. But because he’d rather face Lucifer himself than the woman his soul has just recognized as his mate. Binding himself to a mortal, one who will eventually die, is the one path he’s sworn never to follow.

It’s too late now; his fate is sealed. With one touch, she becomes as necessary to him as the air he breathes. He will move heaven and earth to protect her—but against a demon as powerful as Asmodeus, heaven and earth may not be enough…

Warning: This book contains one bad-ass Archangel with a fiery, um, sword, a witch who blows things up, one nasty demon who is trying to kill them both, and ghosts who make interfering their mission. Steamy sex is had, even with the voyeur ghosts—though Tory is still blushing.

And here’s an excerpt:

Looking at the items around her, Victoria Bloom knew something was missing. She had the pentagram outlined in chalk on the old attic floor. At each point rested a large white candle, all of which was surrounded by a circle of protection. Ginseng burned on the makeshift altar, the scent so overpowering it almost gagged her. The Grimoire of Armadel was opened to the correct page. Ari, one of her spirit guides, insisted she was ready, but still she hesitated. The one thing Tory considered to be essential for the ritual to work was the very thing she lacked. Belief.

Funny really, considering Tory was a medium, meaning she saw ghosts, and she was preparing to perform an ancient ritual, all on the advice of a woman who had been dead for almost four centuries. But she couldn’t deny something had to be done. On her twenty-fifth birthday, her powers had begun to emerge, powers her guides would soon no longer be able to camouflage. Calling forth an angel, though, seemed a little extreme, even for her.

“Hurry up,” Ari whispered in Tory’s mind. “You don’t have all day.”

“Yes, the spell must be performed before the sun sets. You don’t want to accidentally call forth a demon, do you?” Sam prodded and Tory sighed. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to be the only voice in her head.

“Boring,” Thomas added, his nasal tone a reprimand. “Now get the sigil drawn so we can get this over with.”

Tory snorted but didn’t bother arguing. It wouldn’t do her any good anyway. One of the three guides always seemed to have the last word.

In the center of the pentagram, she carefully copied the sigil from the ancient grimoire. The three stooges, something she had affectionately termed her guides when she’d been a child and continued because it annoyed them so much, had debated for days, poring over the book before finally coming up with a name. Tory would have picked the most powerful warrior to aid her but the stooges had been adamantly against her choice. It seemed even though Michael’s mission was to protect humans, he didn’t like them very much.

Setting the book aside, Tory picked up the dagger. With the stooges egging her on, she sliced the blade across her palm and gasped. It stung like a bitch. Eyes watering, both from the incense and the cut, she pressed her palm in the center of the sigil, leaving behind a bloody print. Then she moved out of the protective circle and began to chant, calling forth the angel Zadkiel. The words flowed from her, unknown and mysterious, a testament to how much power now flowed through her, energy Tory feared would be her downfall.

A blinding light burst forth within the center of the pentagram, causing her to draw a hand up to shield her eyes as the words faltered on her lips. Time seemed suspended. The rays illuminated every corner of the attic and Tory held her breath, fearing for the first time more than just the evil hunting her. As her body was enveloped within the white beams, she waited for the burn.

Slowly, the light dimmed and she was stunned to find herself unscathed. But still Tory hid her eyes behind her hand. Who knew what the hell stood on the other side. And since her father was, if the bastard still lived, a demon-worshiping warlock, hell was entirely possible.

“You foolish human. I was in the midst of an important meeting. Send me back. Now.”

Her hand fell from her face, her gaze latching onto the figure in the middle of the pentagram. Holy shit. It had worked. And he was huge. Close to seven feet tall with long black hair cascading around broad shoulders and rippling biceps. His arms were folded across his massive chest, fists clenched in obvious agitation, causing the veins to bulge prominently.

Visit Madelyn Ford’s website

Purchase My Avenging Angel from Samhain Publishing or from Amazon Kindle

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