Stay on the Platform - Inspiration from Susan Palmquist

Please welcome Susan Palmquist as our guest blogger today. Susan has a touching account of her writing journey. She also wears Author Coach and Marketing Services hats. You'll enjoy her post. Read on! 

The last thing I ever thought I’d be is an author. In fact, I’d call myself an accidental writer.

Eavesdropping and yes, maybe greed first got me interested in the writing life.

I was visiting one of my great aunts when her neighbor dropped by. As they sat drinking tea, the neighbor mentioned that she’d just received a royalty check for a book she’d written 15 years ago. Now that sounded like a career I should check out.

Arrogance told me that it would be easy because I’d been an avid reader all my life.

How hard could it be to write a book?

So off to the library I went and checked out a book on writing. I can’t remember the title or author but I do recall one piece of advice that stood out.

Writing is like waiting for a train. Sometimes it’s late and some people give up waiting so they leave the station just before the trains roll in. However, only a handful of people are patient enough to stay.

With that sage advice in hand, I was ready to write my first novel and watch those royalty checks roll in.

My first story was a children’s book…yes, greed took over again because I’d heard the children’s market was where you could make big money.

If you’re a writer you know what I’m going to tell you next.

The rejection letters started piling up.

I did however get one lucky break. Not a contract but my first $250 earned as an author when the story won first place in the Loft’s Children’s Literature Award.

Arrogance reared its ugly head again. I was convinced editors would now see that my story deserved to be published.

Most of them didn’t share that view.

Back to the library I went to get more books on writing.

What do you like to read? Asked one author.

That was an easy answer because I loved mystery and suspense and was soon penning one of those.

However, about half way into the story, life intervened.

My dad was diagnosed with cancer and given just six months to live.

My writing stopped so I could spend as much time with him as I could.

After he died, I tried and tried to get back to the story but couldn’t. I even tried switching to another story and realized, the story wasn’t the problem, it was me.

Maybe it was a sign that I wasn’t supposed to be a writer after all and just greed and arrogance had taken over.

While I didn’t write another novel, I did however write some short stories that got published, but novel writing was in my past.

Fast forward ten years and my mom was cleaning out a cupboard when she found two birthday cards that my dad had sent me. They’d fallen behind a shelf and she asked if I wanted them.

Yes, I did and guess what he’d written inside?

Happy writing and write a good book.

Dad had been my biggest cheerleader and I knew if I didn’t get back to writing that novel, I’d be letting him down.

It got finished but I still couldn’t get published. However, the rejection letters were in fact getting more positive and I could hear the vibration of that train about to arrive at the station.

I switched genres again and decided to write a time travel story.

Like the mystery, the rejection letters became handwritten and very positive, and then one day, the day all authors dream about finally arrived.

We’d like to offer you a contract…

It had taken almost twenty years but I’d done it.

And guess what?

I eventually got contracts for both the children’s story and mystery too.

Every story has some sort of my moral and this one isn’t about not being greedy and arrogant. This one’s about not giving up on your dream.

If you know you’re supposed to be an author, no matter what the rejection letters tell you, no matter how long you wait, please stay on that platform because the train’s about to pull into the station. 

About Susan

Susan, also known as the accidental writer has worn many hats in the publishing world. She’s an author, former freelance writer and editor, tutor, teacher, writing coach and mentor to other writers who wait for the train to reach the station. And yes, she even worked for a publishing company as a publicist.

You can find out more about Susan at www.susanpalmquist.com, under her pen name, www.vanessadevereaux.com and her own writing blog at www.thiswriterslife.com

In addition to her author services, Susan publishes under the name Vanessa Devereaux.

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01F7KM5XM

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Pleasure-Room-Regency-Erotica-ebook/dp/B0113C3UVO

Life's Adventures: In Domesticity (Confessions of an Ex-Domestic Goddess)

Many moons ago, when I was first married, my husband told people we lived in a hospital. He’s prone to exaggeration, but I was kind of fanatical. I was raised by a stay-at-home mom who bought into the whole 1950s feminine persona. So, I cleaned the house every day, sweeping and dusting. I did all the grocery shopping and cooking. My first cookbook was a paperback entitled The I Hate to Cook Book given to me by my mother-in-law. I now think she was a visionary and knew how my house-wifey days would evolve. 

Fast forward a few years. Once I learned playing house got tedious, my love of shiny floors and squeaky-clean sinks died. I worked outside the house at a 9 to 5 job just like FDW. No way was I putting in 9 to 5 on the weekends inside the house. I luckily drew a mate who enjoys cooking. And he cooks good food from scratch. We lapsed into a nice routine of whoever got home first cooked. Whoever didn’t cook, cleaned up. We shared laundry and other details around the house so we could get out to fish, ride bikes, hike, or party with the Parrotheads. 

Then I found out I loved writing books. Now fast forward a few decades. Who the heck has time to do much of anything if you’re a self-taskmaster writing and promoting? Not this lady. I’m just very glad FDW still loves to cook, grocery shop, and a few other domestic shores I’ve pawned off on him. 

But once in a while, I like to step out of my self-imposed writing cave. Yesterday, while FDW vegged in front of sports on TV, I went grocery shopping…all by myself. When I hopped out of the car, I paused a moment. The carts were lined up on the sidewalk. People were rushing in and out of the automatic door. Could I do this on my own? I go with FDW once every couple of months just to see if there are new things I might want. Plus, he’s a very linear shopper…list in hand, in and out…same stuff every week. I might want to try that oddball fruit on sale or see if they’re carrying Peach Brandy yet. But I hadn’t walked those aisles alone in ages. Just inside the door is a Starbucks, so with a caffeine jolt, I did the deed. 

Costco was on the schedule for today. Naw, I’ve had enough of the grocery experience for now. FDW is there as I type. Yay, for him!

Reading and Reviews (Gallant, Grafton, Anderson)

I'm an author, but I'm also a reader. From time to time, I'll share my reviews of present and past reads. My available time to read is limited because I write, but I love to curl up with a paperback or an eBook at night for the last hour of my day. 

I tend to read what I write, but not exclusively. Besides Romantic Suspense and mystery, I read crime and law novels, once in a while a true story, WWII historicals, romance, and mainstream character driven books.

Here are some of the books I've read recently or in the not-too-distant past. Maybe you'll discover a new book or author. 

Perilous Quest (Truth and Lies, book 3) by Jannine Gallant 

On a quest to find a lost treasure, will they fall victim to love . . . or murder?

As a genealogist and historical researcher, Brielle Quintrell often uncovers secrets families would prefer to keep buried. Hired by the elderly scion of the Cape Cod Bishops, a dynasty stretching back to the founding fathers, she can’t wait to delve into their ancestry—despite her client’s skeptical grandson.

Weston Bishop has his hands full running his family’s cranberry farm, seeing to his grandparents’ needs, avoiding his ex, and keeping his cousin out of trouble. The last thing he wants is a genealogist digging into his family’s past and creating problems. Especially one as pretty and distracting as Brielle.

When old letters and diaries lead to more questions than answers, hinting at a dangerous legacy, Weston is hooked. The idea of recovering a stolen treasure is almost as tempting as his new partner. But after word of their search leaks, the two discover they aren’t the only ones determined to solve the centuries-old crime. Someone will go to any lengths to find the prize—even murder. 

My Review 

How fun to mix genealogy, history, and a treasure hunt in a suspenseful romantic adventure. Brielle and Weston are appealing characters…a genealogist and a cranberry farmer. There are enough suspicious characters to keep you guessing until the end as to who the villain is. A read you’ll enjoy. 

Q is for Quarry: A Kinsey Millhone Novel by Sue Grafton 

She was a "Jane Doe," an unidentified white female whose decomposed body was discovered near a quarry off California's Highway 1. The case fell to the Santa Teresa County Sheriff's Department, but the detectives had little to go on. The woman was young, her hands were bound with a length of wire, there were multiple stab wounds, and her throat had been slashed. After months of investigation, the murder remained unsolved...

That was eighteen years ago. Now the two men who found the body are nearing the end of their careers in law enforcement—and they want one last shot at the case. Old and ill, they need someone to help with their legwork and they turn to Kinsey Millhone.

Kinsey is intrigued by the cold case and agrees to take the job. But revisiting the past can be a dangerous business, and what begins with the pursuit of Jane Doe's real identity ends in a high-risk hunt for her killer. 

My Review 

I thoroughly enjoyed the characters in this book. The two old detectives jump off the pages, they are so well written. The cold case research has lots of twists and turns. The suspense is tense. 

When Oceans Rage: A Rivals to Lovers Sea Adventure (Woman at the Helm Mystery Book 2) by Rolynn Anderson 

To save her father, she must shut down corporate espionage and unearth a murderer before the killer finds her.

A shocking inheritance of a shrimp boat from her estranged father entices MIT-trained Jill Morrell to resign from her cushy Seattle job. Her lack of experience boating or fishing soon makes her a pariah on the Port McNeill dock. Worse: While she invests time and energy into a successful prawn season, her father languishes in prison for a murder he may not have committed.

Ray Stewart, stepson of the murdered man, has a stealth agenda of his own. Ray aims to sue Jill for ownership of the million-dollar vessel. In fact, he’ll join Jill’s crew for the season to protect his family’s asset while keeping an eye on the ever-fascinating, unpredictable Ms Morrell.

The raging ocean pales in comparison to the violent and greedy folks out to destroy Jill’s livelihood. Though Ray and Jill are sworn adversaries, they must join forces to find a murderer and identify traitors in their British Columbia community. 

My Review 

First off, Ms. Anderson gives us just enough information about the prawning business to entertain us while telling the story and not sound like an instruction manual. That’s not easy to do. The title tells you Rivals to Lovers which is an interesting trope. Not only is there tension and suspense involving murder and espionage, but the tension between the rivals keeps you turning the pages too. A great read.

DEEP WITHIN ME BOOK TWO – THE PROPHECY by Tina Donahue

Let's welcome back Tina Donahue to Discover... with her latest release. Good luck, Tina! Enjoy, readers!

Blurb: 

Unrestrained desire…and danger without end. 

The Prophecy, Book 2 

In the relentless war between their clans, they’ll risk all for their forbidden love.

 With Zeke Neekoma, Liz found shameless passion. She indulged in her most wanton needs, drowning in his male heat and exquisite strength. A traitorous act. Zeke is her clan’s most hated enemy, a seer whose prophecies they wish to exploit. Enraged by her betrayal, the leader of her clan murdered Liz. 

Reanimated by her father—her clan’s most powerful healer—she’s determined to fight on Zeke’s side, using her healing gift to help his people. Liz aches for a future with Zeke, to always know the ecstasy of his touch, the thrill of his body imprisoning and pleasuring her. 

Zeke desires the same. However, the reanimation changed something within her. Now when Liz heals, she grows weak. Fearful he may lose her forever, Zeke forbids Liz to use her gift. 

There’s no other choice. Her clan’s leader launches his next assault, a merciless plan that will test Zeke’s humanity, risk Liz’s life and threaten their timeless bond.

EXCERPT: 

Zeke eased his foot from the accelerator to slow the vehicle. “You okay?” he asked Liz.

“Yeah.”

Her voice didn’t rasp from her previous injuries…her murder. It was as though it had never occurred, the same as Zeke’s brush with death. After another deep breath, she stopped gripping his leg and rested her palm on his thigh.

Her hand’s weight sent a flood of warmth through Zeke that comforted and aroused him. He recalled her willing submission and longing for his kisses, the hunger of his caress.

Without her, he’d die, no longer caring what happened. With her, he had hope for the future, the first in years. All he had to do to make certain it lasted was to find and kill Carreon. Not quickly, though. He needed the monster to suffer for what he’d done in the past to Zeke’s clan and family. To his little girl Gabrielle.

A surge of outrage, quick and hot, tore through Zeke.

“You all right?” Liz asked, squeezing his thigh.

He fought to control his anger and finally managed a nod. He’d deal with Carreon later. Right now, he had to see to Liz’s safety and her father’s. They were more than ten miles from his clan’s stronghold with few places to hide in this desolate area. A precarious position. The only thing that might possibly save them was this route. Here, they shouldn’t run into Carreon’s three lieutenants who’d escaped tonight’s battle with Zeke’s men.

Liz twisted slightly, trying to see in the back. Her father sat behind her. “Papa, you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

His words bounced in concert with the Jeep’s rough movements.

Liz blew out a breath.

Zeke welcomed the sound as much as he did her laughter.

Losing her once was all he could bear.

The corners of his eyes were still sticky from tears, shed when he’d believed she was gone from him forever. He’d thought, as Liz had, that she and her father were only able to heal the injured, a gift bestowed on them by their mixture of Aztec and extraterrestrial blood.

Because of Carreon and men like him, Liz’s father hadn’t told her the most important secret regarding their gift.

Not only could they undo damage from an accident or the bullets that had torn into Zeke’s chest, they could reanimate.

Earlier, Liz had been beyond simple healing, the delicate bones in her throat crushed from the pressure of Carreon’s hands. When her father finally convinced Zeke there was nothing he could do, that his love alone wouldn’t bring Liz back, he’d finally released her. Through his tears, Zeke watched Munez cradle his daughter’s face. He expected the older man to offer a farewell.

Instead, Munez poured his healing gift, his life force into her. With astonishing speed, the lividity drained from Liz’s face, her complexion returning to its rich olive coloring. She’d stirred as though awakening from a sound sleep, rather than having come back to life.

Carreon didn’t know the full extent of the healing gift. If he learned Liz and her father could reanimate the dead rather than merely healing the injured, he’d do whatever he could to imprison them both. This time, he’d make certain they brought back his lieutenants who were killed in battle with Zeke’s men.

The blood feud had already spanned thousands of years, all to gain power over each other’s gifts or to hold on to so-called sacred territory. Many on both sides claimed it was a tribute to or preparation for the return of their ancient ancestors. Beings who’d crossed deep space and had come to Earth millennia before.

While the Unknowns had bred with Liz’s Aztec ancestors, the Others had done the same with the Comanche clan from which Zeke had descended, leaving generations like him with the gift of prophecy.

Zeke grasped the steering wheel so hard his fingers hurt. He loathed his gift as much as Carreon coveted it. Until that monster was beyond reanimation, he’d keep trying to capture and imprison Zeke so he could exploit the visions for his own ends.

If it took Zeke’s last breath, he’d find Carreon and would destroy him. There was simply no other—

Damn. The ashy light showed a sudden turn in the trail, interrupting his thoughts. As carefully as he could, Zeke veered to the right.

Liz’s hand slid off his thigh.

He jockeyed the vehicle past rocks and furrows, missing each. The ride was now relatively smooth, considering. It should have calmed him but didn’t. Why?

A quick check of the gauges told him the Jeep was operating properly. He scanned the moon-washed landscape, not seeing anyone coming their way. A good thing. Except something still wasn’t quite right.

What?

Her hand slid off my thigh.

Liz hadn’t taken it back. It had dropped away from him.

Uneasy at what that might mean, Zeke slowed the Jeep and glanced over. His next breath froze in his throat.

Liz’s chin rested on her chest. Her thick chestnut hair had swung forward, hiding her face. The ends shifted with the Jeep’s movements, as did her arms and legs. She looked asleep…unconscious.

Dead.

“Liz!” Zeke shouted.

About Tina: 

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. 

MeWe: https://mewe.com/i/tinadonahue

Bluesky: @tinadonauthor.bsky.social

Website/Blog: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/

Newsletter: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/p/newsletter.html

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/146988.Tina_Donahue

Twitter: https://twitter.com/tinadonahue

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/tinadonahue

Amazon author page: https://amzn.to/1ChWFkO

Sweet ‘n Sexy Divas: https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/AuthorTinaDonahue 

Life's Adventures: Hit and Run People Impact

I'm a believer in the philosophy, or is it a theory, that we are touched and changed by everyone we encounter in life. And of course, we do our own amount of touching and changing. There are those people who are in our lives for years, but the ones who only pass through, maybe one hit wonders, make a difference too. 

I'm not sure how some of these hit and runs have affected me, but the fact I remember them must add to the richness of life's ongoing adventure.

How far back can you remember? One of my earliest is of a tall, thin man with dark hair...a neighbor...whose dog ate my pet rabbit. I was three years old. It might be the realization that one animal could do that to another animal that sticks with me, but tall, dark-haired men always gave me pause.

When I was in fourth grade and the new kid at the school, Mrs. Tinharkle, my teacher, used me as an example of why she always let a fellow classmate, Betty, read to us each day. When a couple of kids complained about only Betty getting to read, she called me up to the front of the class and stuck the book in my hands. I read, but not smooth like Betty. I stumbled over words, and my voice shook with nerves. After a couple of paragraphs, she told me to sit down and said, "see. This is why I always choose Betty." In my mind, that teacher is an ugly witch. But I think she's the reason I forced myself to become comfortable speaking and presenting. No one would ever use me as a bad example again.

A few months before the transition to high school, I was talking to a guy about what it would be like. I shared I wanted to be on the cheer squad and date a letterman. His comment: "With your looks? You'll never date a letterman." I don't remember being particularly hurt by his opinion. He did go on to be a letterman in high school, and I did go on to date two lettermen over the course of my four years. Had my personality been different, that guy could've impacted my life horribly. I did bleach my hair blonde and start wearing a lot of makeup. Hmm...

I went to college in snow country. Having been raised in Phoenix, snow was an adventure. Between classes one snowy day, I slipped and went sprawling. From out of nowhere, big strong hands scooped me up. I gazed upward at beautiful blue eyes, chestnut hair falling across his forehead, and smiling lips. I don't remember what he said. I don't know if I said anything. And then he was gone. My embarrassment was huge, but his kindness has stuck with me all my life.

FDW and I celebrated one wedding anniversary by driving from Arizona to see friends in Minnesota. The first stop on our adventure was Tucson to see the kids. When we arrived, walking up their sidewalk, I fell and landed on my face, knocking out a front tooth. So the trip started with a bang. On the night of our actual anniversary, we stopped for dinner in Nebraska. We were on a tight budget, my mouth was a mess, and we talked about all of that. We also toasted each other for our anniversary. When we were done eating, the waitress informed us that the two men at the table over had paid for our meal. They were gone. I was awestruck. My mouth no longer hurt, and my heart swelled. 

There are plenty of people who I have in my life now or who have been in my life for prior years. I'm thankful for the lessons both good and bad they imparted. But it's these one hit wonders who have also shaped my life. Life's an adventure for sure, and the people we encounter are trail markers.

French, Love, and J. Arlene Culiner

Join me in welcoming back J. Arlene Culiner to Discover... Her book sounds fascinating. Enjoy!      

French artist Nicholas Trier is gorgeous. And successful. And sexy. He’s a golden god who lights up any room. He’s also arrogant, although the cluster of women surrounding him don’t seem to mind — aren’t all famous men vain and impossible?

Despite the competition, artist Callie Patterson has decided that Nicholas is the key to her own fame and success, and she signs up for his two-week artists’ retreat in a French château. If she manages to charm Nicholas, who knows what will happen next?

From the moment she arrives in France, things don’t go according to plan. The château is magnificent, the countryside is splendid, but it never stops raining, and daily life also means battling with the French language.

Callie is grateful for a growing friendship with the château’s gardener, Michel Alexander, but even if she finds him captivating — and far more interesting than Nicholas — she can’t consider him a potential lover. Michel is probably as poor as she is.

Set in rural France, this light-hearted romance touches on the contemporary art world and French history.

Callie Patterson, an unsuccessful artist, hopes that a relationship with the irresistible and magnetic Nicholas Trier will pave the way to success. She follows him to France where, in a magnificent château, he holds his artists' retreats. But famous men surround themselves with hangers-on and demand complete loyalty.

Callie soon finds herself far more attracted to Michel Alexandre, the estate gardener, who loves and protects trees and every living creature. But if she wants to make a name for herself, she’ll have to choose Nicholas and his world.

Except nothing is quite the way it seems, and perhaps success isn’t the most important thing, after all.

Excerpt:
            Callie dropped her backpack and, uninvited, sat down on the soggy ground not far from where he was digging. She didn’t even own a houseplant, but a banal conversation about twigs and saplings, was what she craved at the moment. “Okay, tell me why isn’t there a hedge here now.”
            “Because, years ago, the farmer ripped out all the hedges to have larger fields for his agricultural machinery. Now we’re bringing back a balanced environment.”
            “You’re not planning to replace every single hedge on your own, are you?”
            “Of course not,” he scoffed. Picking up a small spade, he loosened another patch of earth. “There are thousands of trees and shrubs to replant, and that would be an impossible task for only one person.”
            With gentle fingers, he spread the delicate roots of a tiny shrub, tucked it into place in the little hole, then tamped down the moist soil with his palm. Reached for another, and then another.
            She watched silently as he planted, and strangely enough, it was almost a sensual sight. His hands were broad, strong, and deeply tanned from working outdoors; his long fingers were beautifully shaped. And under that denim shirt of his, there was the alluring suggestion of tight sinew and warm, fragrant skin. Bear like? No, not exactly. Something more, something…
            “A penny for your thoughts.” Michel was watching her with those disconcerting eyes of his, very dark, with heavy lids and thick lashes.
            She felt the blush as it traveled upward, flooding her neck, her face. He hadn’t caught what she had been thinking, had he? Perhaps he had. Surely, he’d seen how her gaze had slipped over his hands, his arms, his chest, and shoulders. How incredibly humiliating! What vaguely plausible answer could she give? “Oh…just remembering something.”
            “Ah.” Eyebrows raised in overt amusement, he smirked—rather cockily—then went back to working on the next hole, the next shrub.

The Unpredictable Colors of Love published by the Wild Rose Press
Purchase Links: https://books2read.com/TheUnpredictableColorsOfLove
Trailer: https://youtu.be/27nE-cCHNqM

What people are saying about The Unpredictable Colors of Love

As always the author creates characters who are not always perfect, have enjoyed full lives up to the point where she brings them together, and who are on a journey of discovery. The story is set within in the luxurious and lovingly renovated chateau and in the glorious countryside where its ancient fields and hedgerows are also being brought back to life. The perfect setting for two people who might have given up hope on finding a soul mate to explore the possibility there might just be a chance for them after all. Sally Cronin, Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

The charming setting of rural France is an excellent backdrop to the book, which explores the dichotomy between urban and countryside environments. It also examines the contrast between two vastly different types of men: the arrogant and popular Nicolas, and humble, caring Michel. Indeed, the unfolding romance between headstrong Callie and the down-to-earth gardener is delightful to behold, as is Callie’s transformation from urbanite to country-dweller. Michel supports and validates her, which is in stark contrast to Nicolas’s superior attitude and vanity.
A sweet, tender romance, with well-developed characters I could root for, this is an immersive story, with its unique and picturesque setting. Whispering Stories

Author Bio
Writer, social critical artist, and impenitent teller of tall tales, J. Arlene Culiner, was born in New York and raised in Toronto. She has crossed much of Europe on foot, has lived in a mud house on the Great Hungarian Plain, in a Bavarian castle, a Turkish cave dwelling, a haunted house on the English moors, and beside a Dutch canal. She now resides in a 400-year-old former inn in a French village of no interest where, much to local dismay, she protects spiders, snakes, and weeds. Observing people everywhere, she eavesdrops on all private conversations and delights in hearing any nasty, funny, ridiculous, sad, romantic, or boastful story. And when she can't uncover any salacious gossip, she makes it up.

Author Websites http://www.j-arleneculiner.com
Blog: http://j-arleneculiner.over-blog.com
Author links: https://linktr.ee/j.arleneculiner 

Vampires in the White Mountains by Kate Hill

Please join me in welcoming guest blogger, Kate Hill. I too love the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Kate adds a fun twist to the area.

It's not surprising that many of my stories are set in New England. I've lived there all my life. One of my favorite places is the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It's the location of a setting that appears in both the Darkness Therein (Ancient Blood 2) and the Immaculate (Ancient Blood 3). Jocelyn's house in the woods is a place where the characters, both vampire and human, go to meditate, practice magic, and train for important events like the battle against the First Father in the Immaculate. 

When the characters visit Jocelyn's house, it's a way for them to break away from their harried lives—usually they're in the middle of a crisis!— and focus on what they need to do. Surrounded by beauty and fewer distractions, they are able to

get in touch with their magic, their powers, and their connection to the wild parts of themselves. 

I've shared some photos of the White Mountains area and an excerpt from the Immaculate. I hope you enjoy them! 

What are some of your favorite settings in books?  

The Immaculate (Ancient Blood 3)

Heat Level: Steamy

Purchase Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DK2MCDF8

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-immaculate-kate-hill/1005704391

UBL: https://books2read.com/u/bzywNL 

Scarred in mind and body after a brutal attack, Mara travels to Spain in pursuit of an explanation for flashbacks that hint at supernatural evil. There she meets Adam, a gorgeous vampire fighting demons of his own. Bound by mutual attraction and suffering, it seems they can heal each other, until their romantic relationship turns potentially deadly for one of them. 

Note: The Immaculate was previously published. This re-edited version contains additional scenes. The Immaculate contains scenes with sex and violence. The story refers to past rape, past child abuse, and a past suicide attempt.                        

Excerpt:

“Good boy.” Vincent pointed a long, wiry finger at Adam. “Keep sharpening those telepathic skills. Someday, you’ll be a helluva psychic. But for now, we hunt.” 

The men fell silent. Leaving the vicinity of the house, they entered the dark woods. To vampires, especially Immaculates, everything was as clear as day. They traveled swiftly and quietly through the trees.

 The scent of a buck wafted on the air. The animal plodded through a nearby creek. 

Though this particular prey wasn’t his, Adam’s pulse still quickened with desire for the chase. He held back his animal instincts. It was Matthew they wanted to assess. 

Vincent caught Matthew’s eye and motioned with his head in the direction of the deer. 

For a moment, Adam thought Matthew might refuse, but his brother’s vampiric scent was strong. Pure, animal excitement rolled off the doctor. He fixed his unblinking gaze on the buck. Simultaneously, the antlered creature and the vampire bolted.

Matthew moved so swiftly through the trees that for several moments, Adam and Vincent nearly lost him. Matthew’s initial attack had taken them by surprise, but soon they fell into step and had him in sight. 

Adam bounded through the trees, branches lashing his face, and followed Matthew over a brook. The scent of trees, damp earth, and the buck’s fear hung on the air. Running wild and free through the forest was so exhilarating, yet they weren’t free. Not really. No one was free until the First Father was destroyed. 

About Kate: 

Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic fantasies. When she's not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, watching horror movies, and researching vampires and Viking history. She runs the Compelling Beasts Blog that is dedicated to antagonists, antiheroes, and paranormal creatures. Kate also writes as Saloni Quinby. 

Visit her online at https://www.kate-hill.com. Join her newsletter at https://kate-hill.com/index.php/newsletter. 

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