​Given how stressful everything has been lately, I thought it would be fun to take part in a multi-author giveaway.
By entering the Black Friday Giveaway one lucky reader will be awarded a $500 Amazon shopping spree just in time for Black Friday, the biggest shopping day of the year.
Scroll through the book covers to find your next favorite author, and enter the Rafflecopter for your chance to win. You can enter every day to increase your chance of winning. There is no purchase necessary to enter or win.
 

Julia Hepburn crouched in the snow, peering over the barrel of a modified rifle. Where had she gone wrong? She was a nice, middle-class accountant from Toronto, not a hunter. Maybe, she hadn’t made the best choices lately, and those choices resulted with her kneeling in a snowdrift on the outskirts of Churchill, Manitoba, waiting for a polar bear.
The move to Churchill was the latest in a long list of bad decisions. The people were great, but she was a city girl at heart. She enjoyed wearing her favorite black, patent, high-heel shoes on a daily basis, and reveled in starting each day with a skinny latte from a trendy coffee shop. Those things did not fit in with the remote lifestyle of Northern Canada.
She’d only agreed to relocate to the North because of her husband, Mike’s persistence. He’d received a promotion with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, which was contingent on him moving to Churchill. He’d used every piece of ammunition at his disposal to persuade her to join him. First he pouted, and then he charmed. When that failed, he talked about the babies he knew she wanted. Eventually, he wore her down. So she packed her designer clothes into boxes, put them in storage, and then purchased a warm, practical, down-filled coat.
Her ankles cramped. She stood, and stretched her legs. This polar bear hunt was another of Mike’s bright ideas. Every autumn, between August, and November the omnivores migrated to the Churchill area while they waited for the sea to freeze. Some of them scavenged for food too close to town and had to be sedated and relocated.
When Mike asked her to help with the hunt she had refused. What did she know about tranquilizer darts, guns and hunting? But, once again, he’d worn her down.
Jake, the hunt coordinator strode toward her. A conservation officer, he was tall with broad shoulders, and no hint of a middle-aged spread, which was a surprise given he was nearing fifty. 
“Are you ready for this?” His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her.
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip, and then patted her mouth, hoping the damp skin wouldn’t freeze. The nervous habit always irritated Mike.
“You don’t have to take part. You can wait in my truck if you want.” 
She glanced at her husband a hundred yards away. His striking features animated as he talked to the other hunters. He was so eager for them to fit in, and helping to rid the community of a nuisance bear would go a long way toward their acceptance. “No, I’ll do it.”
“It’s okay to be scared.” His grey hair lifted in the frigid breeze.
She sucked in a breath and straightened her spine. “I’m not scared, really. I’ve just been a little accident-prone lately.” 
“I heard you almost burned the house down.” His brow wrinkled.
“I don’t understand how it happened. I wasn’t using the space heater, and I never put it near the curtains.”
“Was anything damaged?”
“Everything. By the time I woke up the whole house was full of smoke. All our stuff reeks.” She turned her gaze to the snowy landscape, and winced, wishing she had sunglasses to guard against the glare.
“Where was Mike when all this happened?” 
“He was at work.”
“It was lucky you woke when you did.” 
“Yes, the neighbors were banging on the door. That’s what saved me.” She gave a little shiver as she remembered her close call. 
“But one incident doesn’t make you accident-prone.”
“Yesterday, I nearly electrocuted myself.”
“How?” His eyes widened.
“When I plugged in my hairdryer I got a zap that threw me across the room.”
“Are you okay?” 
“Yes, but I swear my heart stopped, then started again.” Her hand went to her chest, as she remembered the all-consuming pain of the electric shock.
“I can see why you’re a little nervous.”
“I’m probably being silly.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll only be twenty-five yards from you. Have you loaded the tranquilizers into the rifle?” 
“I don’t know much about that kind of thing so Mike did it for me.”
Jake’s radio crackled. He held it to his ear, and then said, “It’s time. Are you sure you’re ready?” 
She nodded, and he strode away.
Once again, she crouched behind the snow bank, and stared out over the Arctic Tundra. 
At last, the bear appeared, a white, shifting outline. Her skin tingled with a mixture of fear and excitement as he came into view. He walked with a steady gait, his enormous paws spreading as he moved, giving the impression of a large, overgrown puppy, instead of the dangerous beast she knew him to be. He sniffed the air, and then as if catching a scent, changed direction, and headed straight for her. She steadied her firearm, preparing to shoot.
The sound of helicopter blades cut through the frozen sky. The bear panicked, and charged. She took aim, and shot. The tranquilizer dart hit his neck. He did not stop, did not slow. Terror surged through her as she lifted the rifle to her shoulder and fired again. The second dart had less effect than the first.
Her mind flashed to Mike loading her rifle, and in her heart she knew it was useless. He had used the bear to murder her. Her recent accidents were attempts on her life.
It was too late to run. Too late to do anything but pray. In her peripheral vision she caught a glimpse of a figure aiming a gun, another dart struck the bear. The beast went limp midstride. His body smacked the ground, forcing the air out of his lungs with a hiss. 
She stood frozen to the spot, watching as the helicopter landed, and men surrounded the huge animal. They checked its vitals, and then rolled it onto a net. 
 “Are you okay?” Jake stood beside her. 
She hadn’t heard him approach, hadn’t noticed anything but the bear. “Three darts, it took three darts.”
“Yes, it did. You were great. You didn’t lose your nerve and start running.”
“Three darts,” she repeated.
“I’m really surprised the first two didn’t work. There must be something wrong with your tranquilizers.”
Julia glared at Mike, who stood on the other side of the net watching her. Hate flickered in his dark brown eyes. Then he turned his back to her, and struck up a conversation with the man standing next to him. At that moment she knew beyond a doubt, he had tried to kill her. She put her nose to her jacket, and sniffed. Had he laced her clothes with scent to attract the bear? Probably. Meticulous by nature, he wouldn’t have left anything to chance. She had no idea why he wanted her dead, but she couldn’t go home with him.  
She raced to catch Jake as he boarded the helicopter.
“What are you going to do with the bear now?” she shouted above the roar of the blades.
“We’re going to airlift him to a bay that’s about twenty-five kilometers up the coast.” 
“Can I come, and watch? I won’t get in the way.”
He shrugged. “Why not? You’ve earned it.”
She climbed into the back seat not bothering to say goodbye to her husband. 
Once airborne, she looked down to see Mike standing below, watching her leave. Did he have another plot to end her life? Was he going home now to put his plan into action? She hoped so.
Once home, he would open the front door, and before he had a chance to smell the gas, he would turn on the light. Hopefully, the explosion would kill him. The small wrench she had used to tamper with the gas line lay deep in her pocket. She would dispose of it while the others were busy dropping off the bear.
When he had urged her to go on the bear hunt she’d suspected he was going to make another attempt on her life. If her suspicions had proved unfounded she would have gone home with him, and saved him.
Marrying Mike was the worst decision she had ever made, but it was a bad decision she wouldn’t have to live with anymore.

​I was unsure whether I should release Wind Storm because having a new release seems somewhat shallow when measure against a global pandemic. Then I realized that all I have to offer is escapism, and if ever there was a time to escape reality, it’s now.
So, today I’m releasing Wind Storm at a special price 99¢. This price will remain in effect until Monday 27th April. You can also read Wind Storm Free through KindleUnlimited.

Available at
Amazon for 99¢
Read FREE with KindleUnlimited​​

Blurb:
​
A woman who fights to protect the vulnerable
A genius white hat hacker
A group of billionaires, intent on chaos
And an FBI agent trying to make sense of it all 
When Sinclair Quinn is jumped in a back alley, her assailants only want to know one thing, the whereabouts of Native American, Michael Papin, the man she’s been in love with since they were street kids together. 
Nine months ago, Michael was hit by a car while trying to prevent a group of billionaires, known as the Syndicate, from framing Sinclair’s brother. Now they are back, and they want him dead. When the Syndicate attacks his family, Michael will do anything to ensure their safety, including hiding out with Sinclair. 
Sinclair has devoted her life to rescuing stolen children and saving the victims of human trafficking. She knows who she is and is comfortable with the woman she’s become, although she’s never forgotten the man who broke her heart when she was eighteen. Going underground with Michael and his family is not part of her plan. She trusts him with her life, but can she trust him with her heart?

Excerpt:
​
Sinclair Quinn twisted her hips to the side, trying to absorb the punch with her pelvic bone instead of taking a blow to the stomach. She groaned, doubling over as pain ricocheted through her right hip and down her leg. It hurt, but it wasn’t debilitating. 
The initial hit to her face had stunned her and allowed the two men to drag her into a nearby alley. The smell of stale urine burned her nostrils. A chewing gum wrapper lay on the ground at her feet. Her heartbeat hard in her ears, and she gasped for breath. Blood dripped from her cut lip; big drops landed on the ground and splattered. She concentrated on them, using them to focus her thoughts and slow her mind. She had her collapsible baton in her jeans pocket. Don’t overthink. Create an opportunity to escape. 
“Tell us where the Indian is.” Her assailant grabbed her ponytail and yanked on it, pulling her up and forcing her head back so her throat was exposed. 
Michael? What did they want with him? 
The thugs had attacked her after she’d left the grocery store. Foolishly, she’d felt secure once she was home in Granite City in northwestern Montana. That was her first mistake. Her Glock 19 handgun was in the glove compartment of her car where it did her no good at all. Mistake number two. Her final error was not noticing she was being tailed. By the time she’d become aware of them following her, it was too late. 
The shorter of the two, a man who wore a cheap suit, stood behind her attacker. His hand rested on the pistol in his shoulder holster. “Tell her it’ll only get worse for her the longer this goes on. We need to know where she hid Papin.”
“She’s got ears. She can hear,” the larger one snapped. He had the broken nose and muscle-bound physique of a fighter. He let go of her hair and turned to his partner. “You should do some of the work instead of standing back there, yapping. I hit bone with that last punch and hurt my hand.”
Sinclair grabbed her telescopic baton and flicked it open. She whacked the big guy’s knee, throwing him off balance. Then she struck Cheap Suit’s hand so he couldn’t go for his weapon. 
Big Guy regained his equilibrium and pulled his arm back, ready to punch her. 
She took advantage of his wide stance and smashed his ribs. He doubled over. Cheap Suit backed up, holding his injured appendage to his chest, protecting it. 
She ran. Her groceries—eggs, flour, sugar, and milk—were scattered over the sidewalk at the entrance to the alley. She jumped over them. She’d just returned from a hellacious trip to Ukraine and had been looking forward to a couple of weeks downtime, starting with a day of baking. That wasn’t going to happen now. 

Not many people know this but I like to draw pencil sketches. An actual artist might describe my pictures as amateurish…if they were being kind. Occasionally, I draw subjects from my books. 
Okay, ‘subjects’ is too strong a word. I mean a building, flower, tree or any other article I’m picturing. I can’t draw people because I’m not that good. 
This picture is from Wind Storm. My character, Sinclair Quinn, has a she-shed.

​I thought it would be fun to give this sketch to one of my newsletter subscribers. Everyone who opened and read my March newsletter was automatically entered to win. 
And the winner was...
The amazing Debra, who lives near Atlanta and is waiting patiently with Sam and Momma Kitty (pictured below)
Your sketch is in the mail and will get there eventually.

If you would like the opportunity to win one of my sketches or get a free copy of The Wily Witness and The Wedding Deception you can sign up for my newsletter here

These are hard times. COVID 19 had meant the closing of many libraries and bookstores and I know many of you are home with nothing to do and feeling the loss of income
 
Here are some ideas that might help. If you don’t have an e-reader, and can’t afford one, Amazon has a free app that allows you to read books on your smartphone or tablet.

Another alternative is Overdrive.
I use this app in conjunction with my library membership. You can download ebooks and audiobooks from your local library onto your device. This service has always been free for me, and I highly recommend it.

It's Valentines Day, a time when we celebrate all things romantic. I thought it would be cool to do another free promotion so from today until the 16th February Sun Storm with be free at Amazon.

"Sun Storm is a fast-paced and exciting read that was impossible to put down." Readers' Favorite.
Hunted by a gunman and a corrupt police force... in a blizzard.

In Montana to prove her portable solar panel can solve the world's energy problems, naïve scientist, Dr. Marie Wilson must first fight to survive and then expose the powerful businessman intent on destroying her life's work.

Ex-special forces soldier, David Quinn is haunted by the horrors of combat, and yearns to be left alone with his beehives, but agrees to do one last job for his old mentor.

When the scariest man she's ever met becomes her savior, Marie discovers a heart of gold beats beneath his surly demeanor.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
​
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. 

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads. And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap. 

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash. 

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of midday to objects below, when, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. 

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name: 

"Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner and Blitzen! 

To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!" 

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky so up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. 

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. 

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. 

His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, 

and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. 

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. 
​
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight, 
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" 

I’m very excited about this Black Friday giveaway. You can pick up a copy of Disturbance FREE anytime from 28th November until 2nd December.

This is a fantastic giveaway. They’re giving away a Kindle Fire 7 to one lucky winner each day of the sale! Browse the sale and play the Scavenger Hunt game for your chance to take a Fire home. 

​EVERY BOOK in our sale is either discounted or free for the four days of this event ONLY. You can score some awesome reads right now in our Black Friday Book Sale. Contemporary romance, historical romance, romantic suspense, erotic romance, mystery, NA/YA, science fiction, fantasy, They have it all! 

Look for Books from Your Favorite Authors!
Anna Durand • Bethany-Kris • Chloe Flowers • Christine Myers • DB McNicol • Debbie White • Diane Benefiel • Donna Schlachter • E.B. Black • Em Petrova • Erica Monroe • Heidi Vanlandingham • Jacki Delecki • Jacqueline Diamond • Jami Klein • Jamie K. Schmidt • Jana Richards • Jenna Barwin • Jerri Corgiat • Josie Riviera • Karen Michelle Nutt • Karina Kantas • Kerry Blaisdell • Kim Hornsby • Laine Watson • Laura Ashwood • Lia Davis • Lucy Lakestone • Margaret Tanner • Marlow Kelly • Megan Ryder • Melissa McClone • Michelle Dalton • Mimi Barbour • Nina Beaumont • Penelope Wylde • Quinn • Ravyn Wilde • Renee Carr • Rhondi Ann • Rose Pearson • Soraya Naomi • Stephanie Queen • Stormy Legend • Sydney Aaliyah Michelle • Theresa Beachman • Aileen Harkwood
​

​I want to share another powerful poem that speaks to me in a very personal way. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas, is a call to battle.
It conveys the sense that we shouldn’t give up and should be prepared to fight, even if we lose everything. I don’t know if that’s what Thomas intended because it’s a poem about death, specifically the death of his father.
Someone way more intellectually minded will probably have a much more highbrow opinion. Whatever Thomas’ intent, I connect with it and that’s enough for me to put in on my list as one of my favorites.

​Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day; 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

Do you have any favorite poems or books that inspire you? I’d love to hear about them. If I like them then I’ll share them on this blog :)