JOURNEY TO THE DARK SIDE

Every once in a while I love to delve into the past with a good historical/medieval read. Linda Sole, prolific author with over 70 books to her credit, is just the author to hold me captive.

Love Hate & Betrayal (The Apothecary) is a medieval story which suits the title and a book you'll enjoy. Melloria is driven out into the snow when her husband’s castle is stormed. Big with child and close to her time, she collapses outside the gates of Nicholas Malvern’s manor house. Nicholas is the Apothecary, but he is suspected of using the dark arts.

LOVE HATE & BETRAYAL - THE APOTHCARY
Linda Sole
Amazon



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Yorkshire, in the year of Our Lord 1254

“I curse you, Montroy,” she cried in a loud voice that carried to every corner of the hall. “For what you have done this day, I curse all those who serve you. You have murdered my brother and you will live to regret every drop of the precious blood you spilled. When my husband returns to England, you will die, as you deserve.”

“Daubeney deserved his fate.” The Earl of Montroy leaped to his feet. “Your husband murdered my brother and I vowed revenge. Now it is taken.”

“You are a liar,” the woman cried. “My husband killed your brother in fair fight by the laws of combat. You were not in England. You did not know that your brother was convicted of treason. He was given the choice to die at the block or prove his innocence in a fight to the death. My husband was the King’s champion. Now my brother is dead at your hands. I curse you and all your descendants. You murdered him and many of my people lie dead this day. The blood of innocents stains your hands. May your sins find you out and may you die in agony of body and mind…”

“Damn you! Be quiet woman,” the earl thundered down at her. “I gave orders to let you live for you are but a woman and with child but if you continue to plague me with your curses I shall have you hung – as the sorceress some claim you are.”

He turned to his men-at-arms, who stood poised and waiting. “Cast her out of the castle and if she returns you have my permission to put her to the sword.” There was a murmur of dissent from some of the company, and men looked at one another, shame and fear in their eyes. “Do as I say, damn you.”

“She has powers of witchcraft, my lord,” one man spoke up at last. “None here dare kill her.”

“Fools! Every last one of you. Give me my sword and I will do it myself.” He grasped the heavy broadsword that he had earlier used to kill the young knight. The blade still stained with blood of the youth’s followers as he raised it high above his head. Yet when the woman looked up, something held his arm. Suddenly, his sword was so heavy he could not move it.

“I shall leave this accursed place. There is nothing here for me now,” she said, her voice softer now, dangerous, filled with hatred. “Think of me when you lie sleepless, Montroy, and remember. My husband will avenge my brother and me…”

The countess turned and left Montroy standing there with his arms raised above his head unable to move until she had left the hall. The sword fell from his hands, a crippling pain curled up his left arm. He bent double as the pain seemed to crush his chest; his eyes rolled, he fell to the ground and lay kicking and foaming at the mouth.

“It be not witchcraft, but a seizure,” she cried. “He is overcome by weariness from battle. Carry your lord to his chamber and put him to bed. Let the physicians tend him and if the Lord wills it he may recover.”

Melloria had known she risked death by returning to curse Montroy, but her heart was filled with bitterness toward the man. If only her husband had not gone to Spain. The earl would have resisted any siege, but with the lord gone they had been vulnerable. The men had fought hard but Peter had responded to Montroy’s offer to talk and been betrayed by a callous devil who disregarded the white flag to overrun their defenses. Montroy was ruthless but for one moment as she looked into his eyes she had known that despite his bold talk he feared her.

The snow penetrated the soles of her shoes, dampness soaking through the fine leather, but she no longer felt the cold. Covered from head to ankle in the thick, fur lined cloak, her body was insulated from the bitter weather, but the rest of her had long since become numb. Any tears she might have shed had dried, her mind empty of all but the hatred that drove her on through the icy wind and the softly falling snow. The Abbey of Saint Innocent was but thirty leagues from her home. There she could find shelter, someone to help her through the birth of her child, which was imminent – someone to care for the babe if she died.

Pain swept through Melloria, engulfing her body. She had been blocking out the ache in her back for hours but this was such agony that she could not ignore it. Giving a cry of fear, she clutched at her belly. The pain was almost unbearable but she must bear it. There was a way to go yet to reach the Abbey and sanctuary.

The snow lay thickly, covering the moors. The hem of her gown trailed on the ground, soaked as ice clung to it. Ahead of her, lay a dark shape; one large building surrounded by a huddle of outbuildings. Was it the Abbey? Was she closer than she had thought? She moved forward eagerly. Here was warmth and comfort, a bed where she could give birth to her son.

As she saw the building more clearly, her heart sank. This was not the Abbey but a large manor house. She did not know who lived within its forbidding walls. She moved towards the high gates made of wood banded with iron and, as she tried them, locked against her.

“Help me…please help me…” Her pride gave before the overwhelming pain as she sank to her knees, tears trickling down her cheeks.

She was falling into a pit of burning coals, the pain more terrible than before. She gave one despairing scream then crumpled into a heap on the icy ground.

“Here Brutus! Come I say!” the man commanded in a tone the great brute of a dog could not ignore. “Cedric, what have you found?”

“It is a woman, my lord.” The keeper of the hounds bent to investigate. “I think she lives yet…” He gave a cry as he turned her. “She is with child, Sire, and close to her time. I think her waters have broken.”

Nicholas Malvern bent to pluck the woman from the snow, a frown making his scarred face fearsome as he saw she was close to death.

“God’s Body! She is gentle born. What madness drove such a woman to my gates on a night like this?”

It was not a question his vassals dare answer for in truth no woman in her right mind would seek this house whether it be in sunlight or darkness. Nicholas knew he was dreaded, hated by many; even those who served him lived in fear of shadows for they did not understand him; though each and every one had come here more dead than alive and been saved. It was whispered that he was a sorcerer; some accused him of necromancy and the black arts, and some thought him the Devil incarnate. Only the dregs of mankind with nowhere else to go would stay near him save for a few devoted servants.

As he strode up the stairs leading to his chambers none followed. Nicholas took the woman to a bedchamber close by his own. He had allowed no one to use it since she died – the one woman he had loved and the woman he had killed. He had not ventured here since they had torn her body from his arms…

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To learn more about Linda and her work, check out her website.

I'll be back tomorrow. Until then...

Happy Reading!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com

THE CURSE OF BEAUTY, DO YOU HAVE IT?

Linda Sole aka Anne Ireland is back to share another of her exciting books. THE CURSE OF BEAUTY is an excellent take on vampires and gives us a surprising twist to their myth. It's a book well worth reading.

THE CURSE OF BEAUTY
Anne Ireland
ISBN 978-1-936279-31-9
Amira Press

Genre: Vampire Historical Romance
Heat Level: HOT



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BLURB:
Angelina is haunted by a dream lover. Alone, with no one to care for her, when her father gives her in marriage, to a man she has never met, she can only obey. Is she doomed once more to bitter grief? What mystery haunts the castle, stalking the dark corners like a black fiend—and can she pass through terrible danger to find happiness at last?

EXCERPT:
“Oh, my love,” she whispered, her throat tight. “Why do you not claim me? Take me with you...please. Take me to wherever you are.” She dashed away her tears. “Who are you? Why do you come to me only in dreams, and why do you leave me? Please tell me...”

“My name is Raphael, and the time approaches when you must choose. Choose truly, and you will be mine completely.”

Feeling a warm breath at the nape of her neck, Angelina cried out, her body tingling as she felt the desire curl hotly through her body. It was as if he lay with her in her bed, his mouth sucking at her nub, making her arch and whimper with pleasure. Her limbs dissolved with dancing heat, her lips parting, and moist. She was on fire with sensual need, and her feminine juices dampened her inner thighs.

He was here. She could not see him, but she felt his presence, her body responding as it did in her dreams. Her lips parted as she felt a touch so soft that it was merely a whisper, her breath swift as she panted with pleasure.

“Where are you? I cannot see you. Stay with me. I love you. I need you.”

“I have loved you for six hundred years,” the voice seemed to whisper close to her ear, hoarse with passion and the torment of centuries. “I have searched for you, been driven to despair and haunted by the curse...and now I have found you. Only you can break the curse, my love...but you must choose.”

“Tell me what to do.” Angelina whirled round, looking for him, but the room was empty. She was alone, as always. Was she going mad? Had her mind cracked beneath the strain of her unhappiness...or had he really been here, her tormented lover?

“I shall choose you,” she vowed to the empty room. “Tell me what I must do, and I shall choose you.”

“Do your duty, but when the time comes, you must choose.”

To learn more about Linda Sole, Anne Herries and Anne Ireland, check out their website.

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Have a beautiful weekend. I'll be back Monday with tasty bits from P.A. Brown. Until then...

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com

WHAT MAKES A GOOD BOOK?

Easy - superb writing. Especially if the book is written by award winning, multi-published author Linda Sole. Have you read her work? If not, perhaps you know her as Anne Herries. Or Anne Ireland. All three pseudonyms amount to over 100 exciting novels that create romance in all its spendid forms.

Here's a little from her hot, paranormal erotic romance;

DARK ANCIENT QUEEN
Anne Ireland
ISBN 978-1-935348-46-7
Amira Press



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BLURB:
Ally is a photographer and good at her job. She is in Paris when she hears that her sister has had an accident, and when she returns home Ally goes to her sister’s apartment. She mourns her death, but gradually she begins to realize that the car accident might not have been just an accident but something far more sinister. How long before she begins to understand that the beautiful Egyptian necklace sent to her sister may be the key to a larger mystery, and why does she feel as if her mind is being taken over by a dark ancient queen? Is what she is feeling for Jack Brendan, the new man in her life, real--or merely fantasy?

EXCERPT:
I woke feeling heavy-eyed and sluggish, and knew I had been dreaming again. I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened in my dream, except that, once again, it had been very sensual. I could almost feel the drugging effects of lovemaking in my body, and my mouth was swollen as if it had been kissed passionately. The dream had been vivid and erotic, because the man and woman in it had made love in ways I had never experienced. Just thinking about it as I dressed made my panties wet, and I was breathing hard. I shook my head as I looked in the mirror. My eyes were darker than usual and looked strange, as if they glowed with a black fire at the center. This wasn’t like me. I had a natural pleasure in making love with someone I liked a lot, but to be dreaming about sex this way wasn’t usual. I fought to put it out of my mind and think about the rest of the dream.

I was almost sure it had concerned a young Egyptian priest. The one I had seen before who had Simon’s face. He had been praying to his God for help because of some sin he had committed. I had no idea what he had done, what had happened to him, or whether his prayers were answered.

I shook myself out of my dreamy state and remembered that I had an appointment that morning. This business of the Egyptian necklace was more intriguing than I’d imagined.

“Mr. John Brendan is on his way up to your room, Miss Rowlinson,” the hotel receptionist’s voice came over the telephone. “He said that he has an appointment.”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

I had hardly replaced the receiver when there was a knock at my door. Opening it, I found myself staring at one of the most attractive men I’d ever seen. A tall man, he had dark brown hair, which he wore a little longer than was usual, and his eyes were almost black with a silver fleck in the irises. As he smiled, the silver seemed to intensify, which was very intriguing.

“Ally? It is Ally, isn’t it?”

“Yes, please come in.” I blushed as I realized I had been staring. “I’m glad to have a chance to speak to you privately because I want you to look at the necklace and make sure it hasn’t been damaged in any way since it left you.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said, and smiled rather wolfishly. “I would trust you implicitly, Ally.” His smile was inviting, drawing me to him immediately.

“I noticed there was some slight damage on at least three of the links.”

“I think that has always been there.” He accepted the package I gave him without attempting to open it.

“Where is it usually kept?”

“It has been lost, or perhaps I should say hidden, for the last hundred years. Since it was found, I’ve kept it in my safe at Brendan Lodge, that’s my country house. I should like to explain about the necklace. It might be as well to do it here, then we can relax and talk about other things.”

“Please,” I said, gesturing toward one of the two armchairs. “Shall I order coffee?”

“No, thank you. I would rather just talk, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. I’ve brought some of Elaine’s notes and some of the books she’s written on the early dynasties.”

“May I?” he asked, looking eager. “When I spoke to your sister, she was so interested and helpful. I had almost given up hope of ever finding out anything. Even if the necklace is a fake, I should like to know about the original. My ancestor certainly believed he had bought something rather special. And there are all the stories about it bringing bad luck.”

“That’s what interests me,” I said. “You mentioned some kind of a curse when we spoke last. You don’t really believe that, do you? It’s only a myth, though I know the ancient Egyptians were very much into magic. Elaine told me the people believed priests and magicians had all kinds of marvelous powers, like the ability to change themselves into animals and raise the dead.”

“I know a bit about that,” he agreed. “Since the necklace was found I’ve been going through family records and have read several references to magic. One of my ancestors had purchased a wonderful book on Egyptian magic. It was written in Eighteen Ninety-Nine by someone called E.A. Wallis Budge, and it deals almost entirely with the subject, telling stories of magicians who cut off the heads of animals and then brought them back to life.”

“Elaine refers to that particular book in one of hers. Some of the old knowledge has been updated or set aside in favor of modern research, but Elaine always said that the older books had a mysticism of their own. It is probably more fun to go along with the stories told in earlier books than to read the more accurate versions of today. Carbon dating often takes the magic out of myths.”

“Your sister sounds as if she was wonderful to know.” He looked upset. “I was hoping to meet her. I feel awful about what happened, almost guilty, as if the bad luck my family has encountered somehow rubbed off on her.”

“You shouldn’t feel anything of the kind. It was a drunken driver. I was angry at first, devastated. Now I just feel sad. I miss her terribly, but I’m trying to remember all the good things. Crying isn’t going to bring Elaine back, and she wouldn’t have wanted me to be miserable. She would have told me to pull myself together.”

“Yes.” He nodded in agreement. “There’s nothing we can do, is there?” For a moment, he looked into my eyes, and I almost swayed toward him. I wanted to feel his mouth on mine, his hands exploring my body, his smooth flesh joined with mine. I gave myself a mental shake. I had to stop this. Erotic dreams, and now I was practically panting to get laid by a man I had met only a few minutes earlier! I forced my mind back to the subject of my sister and the necklace.

“Except get on with our lives. Elaine would have wanted to do everything possible to help you research your necklace. She would have been disappointed if it was forgotten or abandoned because of what happened to her. I don’t have her knowledge or skills, but I have become very interested in Queen Amnut’s story. If I can be of any help at all . . .”

“Do you really mean that?” He looked at me eagerly. “I haven’t been able to raise much enthusiasm anywhere in this country. The only expert who seemed to have heard of the necklace was your sister. If we could go through her notes together . . .”

“I think we could do more than that,” I said, suddenly feeling a thrill of excitement. “Elaine had a lot of friends and contacts. I am sure if I telephoned around they would see what they could turn up in their files. I’ve already had several letters offering to help with any unfinished projects she might have left. I’ve turned over most of her things to experts from various museums, but yours appealed to me, and I should enjoy helping you.”

“I appreciate that, Ally,” he said with a look that set my spine tingling. “How long were you thinking of staying in England?”

“I’m not sure.” I hesitated. The way he looked at me set my libido on fire. “I’m probably going to talk to someone about an exhibition of my work, but then my time is my own.”

“Did you tell me you were a fashion photographer, or I did I hear that from someone else?”

“I may have mentioned it,” I said. “But you were going to tell me about this curse you feel has been hanging over your family.”

“It isn’t really a curse, though a letter I found among my great grandfather’s things did say . . .” He broke off and looked at me, a gleam in his eyes. “What are you doing this weekend? It probably sounds very forward of me, but it’s meant genuinely.”

“What?” I asked and laughed. “You are being very mysterious, Jack.”

“I was just wondering if you would like to visit Brendan Lodge, if you’re into old houses at all? It might interest you, and we could go over my stuff and yours and see if we can find any cross-references.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“But you need to think about it?” He quizzed me wickedly with his eyes. My mouth went dry, and I almost flung myself into his arms. What the hell was wrong with me? I could picture myself doing some of the things I’d seen the lovers do in my dream the previous night. “After all, I might be an axe murderer.”

“No, I don’t think so.” He was amazingly attractive when he had that wolfish gleam in his eyes, and I was enjoying myself. His hand brushed against my thigh and a hot flame ran through me. I saw the way his mouth loosened, and I licked my lips, imagining what it could do to different parts of my anatomy.

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To learn more about Linda Sole and all her marvelous books click here.

I'll be back Friday. Until then...

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com

FRONT AND CENTER WITH P.A. BROWN

L.A. BYTES is the thrilling third novel in P.A. Brown’s L.A. series. This expertly written book and has an intricately woven plot that will keep you guessing until the last page.

Here's what Romance Junkies has to say:

L.A. BYTES is a gripping and captivating mystery that kept me on the edge of my seat.

Reviewer: Christina

L.A. BYTES
P.A. Brown
ISBN 978-1-60820-040-5 (print)
ISBN 978-1-60820-041-2 (ebook)
MLR Press



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EXCERPT:
David extended his card to the tiny woman with pumpkin-colored hair.

“Mrs. Crandall? Alice Crandall?”

She took the card and held it between her finger and thumb like it might be the devil’s calling card. She barely glanced at it.

Alice had been the victim’s neighbor for “nigh on five years, young man,” she told the two detectives. “That’s why I told that young pup that there was no way Nancy committed suicide. She’d have paraded naked down Glendale Boulevard sooner than she’d have killed herself.”

“We’re here to listen, Mrs. Crandall.” David tipped his head and kept his face neutral. He flipped open his notepad and wrote the day’s date. “We’d like to ask you a few questions about your neighbor, if we could. Nancy Scott was her name, is that correct?”

“Nancy Amelia Scott,” Alice said. “That was her full Christian name, rest her soul.”

“You knew her five years. Did she move in five years ago, or did you?”

“I’ve been on this same spot of earth since before my good husband Lloyd passed, nigh on eleven years ago it was, rest his soul. He was a good man. Salt of the earth.”

David scanned the room. From what he could see it looked like Alice had furnished the place during the height of the beige eighties and never recovered from it. If there was a spot of color anywhere, he couldn’t find it. “So Mrs. Scott moved in five years ago. Was she by herself?”

“That man was a saint, he was. Why, even Father Barnaby used to remark as how good he was, never drank a tipple in his life and worked until they forced him to retire at sixty-five. Not that he wanted to leave, mind you, the man loved to work, almost as much as he loved to talk—”

“Yes, Mrs. Crandall,” David said. “I’m sorry for your loss, but if you could just answer some questions about your neighbor.”

“Lloyd would have loved Nancy. She was a pious woman, never heard a curse word come out of her mouth. Even Lloyd wasn’t that good.”

“When was the last time you actually saw Mrs. Scott, ma’am?” David persisted. Patience was a virtue, his own, less than saintly, mother might have said, but there were times when patience could take a flying leap. “You mentioned her missing Mass on Sunday. So if she wasn’t there, when did you see her last?”

“Sunday Nancy always came with me,” Alice said. “She wasn’t born a Catholic; she told me that right after I first asked her to join me at Incarnation. Was born a Presbyterian but never found satisfaction in that faith.” Alice dug her short, unpolished nails through the tight mass of bright hair. “She strayed, she said, and when she found her way back, she decided the good Lord meant her to be part of the true faith, so she come and joined our church. She asked for my help then,” Alice said proudly. “She asked me to help her find her way back to God.”

“Yes, ma’am,” David said. Beside him Martinez harrumphed softly. “But I still need to know when you last saw Nancy alive.”

Alice eyed Martinez coldly, then smiled at David, revealing impossibly even, white teeth. “Are you Catholic, young man?”

“No, ma’am, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not.”

“Pity.”

“Yes, ma’am. Now ma’am—”

“I know,” Alice said. “When did I last see her?”

“Yes, ma’am—”

“I’ll tell you if you stop jabbering. Can’t stand a man who always interrupts. Her son was like that, you know. Always cutting in, interrupting his mother like everything he had to say was pure gospel and the rest of us should just shut up and listen.”

“Her son, ma’am?” David leaned closer, pen poised over his dog-eared notepad. “Mrs. Scott had a son? What about a Mr. Scott?”

“No Mr. Scott. He was her past, she used to say, she was her own future. She never spoke of him. If he was anything like her son, I can understand why.”

“Would you know where we might find this son?”

“He comes around, regular as church bells,” Alice said. “Every other Wednesday.”

“And the last Wednesday he was here?”

The woman shrugged her thin shoulders. “Week or so ago.” The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile. “Why, I guess that would be two weeks ago tomorrow.”

David and Martinez traded looks. “Yes, ma’am,” they both said.

“I guess you can ask him these questions.” Alice smiled slyly. “Oh, and the last time I saw Nancy was Saturday morning. We walked down to the market to buy groceries.”

“What did Mrs. Scott buy?” David asked, remembering the nearly empty refrigerator. And the chocolate wrapper.

Alice sniffed. “Orange juice, couple of cans of soup, bananas and a newspaper. I never saw such a one for not eating proper. I don’t know how she stayed healthy.” Her face suddenly screwed up. “I guess she didn’t though, did she?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You still think she killed herself?”

“That’s up to the medical examiner to determine,” David said.

“Will you be by to talk to that boy of hers tomorrow?”

“We just might do that, ma’am.”

Alice smiled again. “Well, I won’t tell him you’re coming.”

David almost smiled in return. “You have a good day now.”

“You find out what happened to Nancy, and I’ll have a good day.”

She shut the door of her apartment behind them, leaving them standing in the musty hallway looking at each other in bemusement.

“Guess we come by to talk to junior, then,” Martinez said. “Where do you think he was all this time?”

David pulled out the car keys and jangled them against his leg. “We’ll have to make sure to ask, now won’t we?”

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To learn more about P. A. Brown and her terrific books, check out her website. You'll enjoy the journey.

I'll be back Wednesday with multi-published Linda Sole, who now has 100 books to her credit. Be sure to drop in. Until then...

Happy Writing!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com

FROM MURDER TO ROMANCE

It's PARTY TIME!

Today at Love Romances Cafe from 11:00a.m. until 1:00p.m. EST.

Join Clare London, Ginger Simpson, Linda Sole, Lizzie T. Leaf, Marie Tuhart, Raine Delight, Rita Karnopp, Tabitha Shay, Sarah Grimm and me for a surprising two hours of fun and prizes.

Hope to see you there!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com

PARTY ON!

Join me today, and several of my good friends, for a fun time at LOVE ROMANCES CAFE from 11:00am - 2:00pm EST. I'll have an easy contest for you to win free downloads along with offering great recipes and lively conversation.

Hope to see you there!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com

CHRISTMAS WITH SOLE

Hi Everyone,

We're winding down on my Ten Days of Christmas. LINDA SOLE is in the kitchen with a DEE LICIOUS tart recipe. Please join us for a world of different holiday foods and traditions at http://www.sloanetaylor.com/blog.

Each day I’m giving away a free download to one person in a simple contest. The winner gets to select the book of their choice from my releases. All you need to do is email me sloanetaylor @ comcast.net, no spaces, on the day you wish to enter the contest. Type BOOKS in the subject line and the title you’d like in the body of your email. Told you it was easy! You can enter daily. I’ll draw a winner each day and announce them on my blog.

The winner for December 20 is TERESA who chose TEDDI TURNS ON. Her book has been sent.

Below is the calendar for our Holiday Celebration.

DECEMBER AUTHOR

21 Linda Sole
22 Tabitha Shay
23 Maggie Nash
24 MC Halliday

Also, if you like bookmarks and postcards send your snail mail address to me, sloanetaylor @ comcast.net, no spaces, with FREEBIE in the subject line. I’ll be happy to send you a packet no matter where in the world you live.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
TEDDI TURNS ON 2009 EPPIE Finalist - Erotica www.aspenmountainpress.com
FRENCH KISS www.eternalpress.ca
www.sloanetaylor.com www.myspace.com/sloanetaylor

HELLOOOOO DOLLIES!!

Hi Everyone,

Come share the Ten Days of Christmas with some of your favorite authors who each take a turn in the kitchen with foods your Mom didn't make. We have a wonderful representation from Australia, England, and across the USA. Please join us for a world of different recipes at http://www.sloanetaylor.com/blog.

Each day I’m giving away a free download to one person in a simple contest. The winner gets to select the book of their choice from my releases. All you need to do is email me sloanetaylor @ comcast.net, no spaces, on the day you wish to enter the contest. Type BOOKS in the subject line and the title you’d like in the body of your email. Told you it was easy! You can enter daily. I’ll draw a winner each day and announce them on my blog.

Below is the calendar for our Holiday Celebration.

DAY AUTHOR

15 Celia Kyle
16 Tabitha Shay
17 Lena Austin
18 Ginger Simpson
19 Mary Martinez
20 Clare London
21 Linda Sole
22 Rita Karnopp
23 Maggie Nash
24 MC Halliday

Also, if you like bookmarks and postcards send your snail mail address to me, sloanetaylor @ comcast.net, no spaces, with FREEBIE in the subject line. I’ll be happy to send you a packet no matter where in the world you live.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
TEDDI TURNS ON 2009 EPPIE Finalist - Erotica www.aspenmountainpress.com
FRENCH KISS www.eternalpress.ca
www.sloanetaylor.com www.myspace.com/sloanetaylor

NEED A LITTLE SOLE? LINDA THAT IS!

My Birthday Bash has LINDA SOLE, author of over 80 books, with her newest releases and a great contest. Other friends are dropping in to celebrate daily until December 14. I hope you’ll join us at http://www.sloanetaylor.com/blog for a fun time.

Each day I’m giving away a free download to one person in a simple contest. The winner gets to select the book of their choice from my releases. All you need to do is email me sloanetaylor @ comcast.net, no spaces, on the day you wish to enter the contest. Type BOOKS in the subject line and the title you’d like in the body of your email. Told you it was easy! You can enter as many times as you like. I’ll draw a winner each day and announce them on my blog.

The winner for December 4 is YASMINE who chose LONNIE HEATS UP. The book has been sent!

Below are the marvelous authors and their days. Be sure to check them out. They’re a lot of fun and filled with amazing talent. You’re sure to find an exciting new author to read. Feel free to ask anything you like. These folks will check in throughout the day and evening to answer.

DECEMBER AUTHOR

6 Linda Sole
7 Aline de Chevigny
8 Sloane Taylor
9 Tabitha Shay
10 Jennifer Loy
11 Beth Anderson
12 Melanie Atkins
13 Pam Champagne
14 Melissa Bradley

Also, if you like bookmarks and postcards send your snail mail address to me, sloanetaylor @ comcast.net, no spaces, with FREEBIE in the subject line. I’ll be happy to send you a packet no matter where in the world you live.

Hope to see you on at least one of the days!

Sloane TaylorSweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
TEDDI TURNS ON 2009 EPPIE Finalist - Erotica www.aspenmountainpress.com
FRENCH KISS www.eternalpress.ca
www.sloanetaylor.com www.myspace.com/sloanetaylor