Thursday, October 26, 2017

A Story for The Ages

When you are travelling, as I have been doing for the past two weeks, you are always looking for a good book to read to escape to another world while you wait for airplanes or (in my case) ferries to your next destination. Naturally I always enjoy a good romance, but when it is mixed with danger and intrigue, that sounds like just the ticket for some engrossing reading.  

This week's guest in My Writing Corner presents just such a book as author Maureen Bonatch visits My Writing Corner with her latest release, Evil Speaks Softly.  It's perfect for my October theme of all things spooky.

Maureen grew up in Pennsylvania, where she still lives. She says it's because she likes the four seasons, along with hockey, biking, sweat pants and hibernating in the winter time. She also enjoys reading and writing paranormal and fantasy romance, and she shows us her skill  with her newest book. She tells us she is a "seat of the pants" writer, who finds her characters demanding their stories be told, and we're glad she is telling them!

They were never supposed to meet. Fame came easy for Liv by following in the footsteps of the female writers in her family. The cycle repeated for decades…until Liv changed the story. Her villain doesn’t like the revision—and he isn’t a fictional character. In his story, the bad guy always wins.
They were never supposed to find love. 

Liv never questioned her demanding nocturnal muse, or the strange incidents in her old, family home until she met Gage. His job was to watch her from afar, not reveal the truth about the curse and the stories of the dead. They’ve broken all the rules. 

Together they unravel secrets as they strive to stop the cycle. Liv’s ability to find love, and protect her loved ones, hangs on the fickle whims of the dead—and they’ve got nothing to lose.

Need more? Let's get an excerpt!

“I met this strange man at the bar last night. He told me some really weird
            I paused. When she remained silent, I continued. “He said it was related to my writing.” She watched me with the fascination of one who desperately wanted to look away but couldn’t. As if a deer blinded to the oncoming headlights, she was fixated, trapped. “He said to talk to you.”
I searched her face. I knew my Grams. When resignation settled on her features a knot clenched in my stomach from either fear, or the excitement of validating Gage didn’t fabricate the story. Perhaps he wasn’t crazy.
            Grams slowly closed her eyes and opened them again. “He found you?”
            I nodded.
             She turned to stare out the frosted window where the birdfeeder sat frozen over from the recent snow. “I can’t believe he took that risk. Watchers are never to approach the Recorders. It could totally upset the balance.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth.
             When she used the same terms as Gage, my anxiety elevated. I expected her to deny his claims and then we’d laugh about the incident. “Grams, please tell me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I took a deep breath. “Some weird things happened last night. Occasionally I notice unusual things, but it’s an old house and I have an active imagination, but this time it scared me.”

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And here is how you can reach Maureen:

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1 comment:

Romancing the Rails

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