Excerpt from THE CHOSEN by Annette Gimsby

SYNOPSIS:

The neighbouring kingdoms of Oscia and Arcathia have been at a tentative peace for three years after centuries of warfare. Prince Severin of Arcathia has been brought up to put duty before all else and as the only son of the King and Queen, it is his duty to marry and produce an heir.

His parents want him to marry an Oscian princess to cement that tentative peace. Unfortunately Severin isn't interested in princesses. Now, if he had his pick of princes that would be another matter.

Havyn has been a slave all his life. When his aptitude for wizardry is discovered, he finds himself purchased and freed by Prince Severin and apprenticed to the royal wizard, Ildar. His duty is to stay chaste to keep
his powers strong, but his feelings for Severin sorely test his resolve.

With kingdoms at war, the throne hanging in the balance, magic in the air,
and outside forces trying to keep them apart, can the two men find
happiness together, or is duty more important than love?

ANNETTE SAYS:

This is Prince Severin's 'coming out' scene to his father and it's one of the turning points of the book, because
Severin is a prince he needs to get an heir. But what is a gay prince to do?

EXCERPT:
“No? You turn down the best offer of marriage you’ll ever have and you say you have nothing to be sorry for?”

“I don’t want to get married!” protested Severin. “I already told you that.”

“You’re twenty-one years old, and the only heir to the Arcathian throne! What happens when I’m gone and you’re left a bachelor? There’ll be bloodshed if you don’t sire a son and soon. Do you want to bring us back to the brink of civil war? That’s what it will come down to. Leave us,” Faran commanded the falconer. 

The man bowed and hastily made his retreat, the birds squawked when he did so.

“Chayal told me what happened at your initiation,” said Faran in a much gentler tone. “That you were not pleased by any of the eligible women.  There is no shame in it for them or for you, Severin. The prince’s first chosen is an honour and one not lightly bestowed. But why didn’t you go through with it?”

Severin blushed, and mentally made a note never to speak to Chayal again. The man was supposed to be his friend. Then he realised that being the head of the Raven Brotherhood, Chayal’s first loyalties were to his king. They were his father’s bodyguards, not his.

“Have you lain with anyone at all? Perhaps you preferred to keep it private between the two of you?”

“No, Father. No one.” Heat crept into his cheeks as he spoke.

“But don’t you see? This is even better. Anyone offering for you will have to offer a much higher dowry since you’re a virgin, which is unusual for Arcathian males. You could have your pick of princesses,” said Faran, trying to coax him.

Why couldn’t his father understand? Severin didn’t want his pick of princesses. The idea of lying with a woman didn’t interest him. He didn’t dislike women, in fact, Kelandra was one of his best friends, but the
thought of being intimate like that with any of them wasn’t something he had ever wanted.

“Father, I am not interested in princesses, or any other women,” said Severin wondering how to tell his father what he really wanted. Severin took a deep breath and just decided to come right out with it. He was
already a disappointment to his father, what was one more? “I don’t want to get married, Father. I am not interested in women like that. I’m interested in men.”

FIND OUT MORE:

Annette's books on AMAZON and on GOODREADS.  
Follow her on Twitter @havyn

Excerpt from Red Serge by Lorne Oliver

Red Serge 

By Lorne Oliver

SYNOPSIS:

The body of a young girl is found.  She was raped and tortured before being strangled.  Sgt. Reid of the RCMP has had too much violent death in his career.  He knows he shouldn’t get involved in this one.  His marriage is falling apart, his daughter is getting involved in the wrong things, but something draws him in.  The discovery of other young girls’ bodies - his daughter’s age, some long dead, - begs the question: How long has the Devil been coming to Prince Edward Island?

It was almost his end game.  He had one last target in mind, one last conquest.  His whole life had been under the thumb of someone else.  This was his.  It wasn’t going to be a secret any more.  The daughter of a cop known for catching serial killers…how did she taste?

The Royal Canadian Mounted Police were known for their Red Serge uniform.  It was what they wore in ceremony, to honour others, and in death.

LORNE SAYS:

In my books I like to name characters after people I respect, friends, family, etc.  Sometimes people volunteer to be a character or ask to have their names put in.  The character of Cassie Michaels in Red Serge (my second novel in the Sgt. Reid Series now available on Amazon in both ebook and paperback) was named by the winner of a contest. 

In the case of the Bonaventure Campgrounds and Cottages I needed a name that I would be happy with, so I chose the name of Canada's last aircraft carrier the HMCS Bonaventure.  I didn't just pick it out of a hat though.  My father served onboard this ship.  It took him all over the Atlantic Ocean and too many countries – Brazil, Germany, Sweden, Ireland, Trinidad - but the most important moment was when it took him to Portsmouth England.  There he met my mother.

In comparison to modern aircraft carriers the "Bonnie" was tiny.  Whenever my father told me stories he described the size as a cigarette package next to his foot stool.  The landing deck would have been too short for today’s jets to land on.  According to my dad (who insists that he and his friends once caught a fish so big they had to bash its head with an ore because it was going to sink their small boat) they tried landing an American jet on her and the breaks burned the rubber of the wheels.  He never did say how they got it off the ship.  The Bonaventure was commissioned into the Canadian Navy in 1957 and though it was never involved in any wartime action it was part of NATO during the Cuban Missile Crisis.  She had a short life of peace time duties though being decommissioned in 1969.  It served its purpose though.  Without this ship me and my wonderful children wouldn’t be here.

I know back in the day I complained about having to sit and listen to his stories, but I enjoyed it then and would love to hear them again.  My dad and I don't talk much these days, but I'm really proud to say he served in the Canadian Navy.

In Red Serge I take the opportunity, okay I might have gone overboard, to educate the reader about the ship since Canadian’s don’t even know about it by having the campsite owners take the reins.

EXCERPT:

“What’s with the name?  Why call this place Bonaventure?”

“The man who started the campground years ago was a crew member on the HMCS Bonaventure, the Canadian Navy’s last aircraft carrier.  It was the greatest time in his life and when we bought it we agreed to keep the name.  We’ve actually adopted the theme throughout the grounds naming roads after decks or levels on the ship.  Some after other Canadian naval ships.  We had a local artist paint that large mural on the side of the restaurant and inside are paintings and pictures of the ship or planes that were on it.  It’s different anyway.  Aren’t you tired of things named after Anne of Green Gables anyway?  I did a lot of research on the Bonnie and Canada’s navy.  For instance, did you know that the crew on the Bonnie was twelve hundred people?  During the peak season we can have twice as many people here as they had on her.”  

He smiled at me with pearly whites.  

The campsite is the last known place of a young girl whose body is found.  Did someone from the campsite take her?  Did she wander off?  Is there a monster lingering around the site? 

FIND OUT MORE:

United States:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HEBVJUS

Canada:  https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00HEBVJUS

United Kingdom:  https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00HEBVJUS

Blog:  https://lorneoliver.blogspot.ca

Facebook Page:  https://facebook.com/oliverauthor

Twitter:  @LorneOliver

Excerpt from Murderous Decisions by Anna Drake

Murderous Decisions

By Anna Drake

SYNOPSIS:

Victoria Cross believes her greatest challenge in life is keeping up with family duties. But a tempting stranger, an unexpected responsibility, and a ruthless killer combine to complicate her life. And in the end, this young wife and mother's biggest challenge may turn out to be ... surviving.


ANNA SAYS:

This scene was fun for me to write because it centers around such a compelling dream. I mean, who wouldn't love to receive such a generous bequest?

But at one point Harry Price has told a friend that money can bring with it as many problems as solutions. And this is what Victoria learns as she struggles to overcome Harry's death and dispose of the remains of the gentleman's life. Because remember, there is a killer out there. He's killed at least once. Who is to say he will not kill again?

EXCERPT:

Then, one day the phone rang. It was a Tuesday again. As usual, I was home catching up with my chores.

"Mrs. Cross?" a voice asked.

"Yes."

"I'm Matthew Ashworth, Harry Price's attorney. First, let me tell you how sorry I am for your loss. Harry was a wonderful man. It was my pleasure to know him."

"Thank you." Considering Ashworth's comment, I had felt compelled to provide a suitable reply. Although, I couldn't understand why Ashworth was offering his condolences to me? I'd never even met Price.

"I'm sorry for coming at you unexpectedly like this," Ashworth said. "But it is the way these things sometimes go. Anyway, I'm calling to tell you that you're named as Harry's heir."

"I'm listed as an heir?" I pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat.

"Actually," Ashworth said, "you're the sole heir."

"But why would Harry leave anything to me?"

"I don't know, but you've also been designated the administrator of the estate."

"What does that mean?"

"Basically, it makes you responsible for inventorying all of Harry's possessions. Then, you'll need to file a statement with the court, swearing everything has been settled according to Harry's wishes."

It sounded like a lot of work. "Where would I be doing this?"

"I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

I sighed. "No. I've heard Harry was from someplace in northeastern Pennsylvania, but I don't know the exact spot."

"Harry lived in a house located about twenty miles northwest of Wiltonburg. It sits just outside a small town called Placidville."

"And I am to settle his estate? How would I do that?"

"Well, you'll need to come out here. You can stay in the house while you work. Incidentally, the funeral is set for Thursday. I thought you'd want to attend."

I sagged back in my chair. This was a lot to absorb. A funeral two short days from now. An estate to settle. A demand that I spend time in a place I'd never visited, to work on behalf of a man I'd never met.

"I can understand your surprise," Ashworth said. "This has all been a bit rushed. Murder tends to mess up the normal progression of things. Anyway, as you know, we had to wait for the police to release Harry's body. And now, well, we'd like to get on with things as quickly as possible."

"And you're encouraging me to attend the funeral?"

"Yes, I hope you will. Harry was a bit of a recluse. I don't expect a large turn out. Plus, as his executor you'll need to come sometime soon. So, now seems as good a time as any."

"And you say I'm the heir?"

"Yes."

"I assume you wrote the will?"

"I did."

"Did Harry tell you why he named me in it?"

"No, we never discussed you. Harry laid everything out. I just drafted the document according to his wishes."

I pulled a deep breath and released it slowly. None of this made any sense to me. "How long do you think it would take me to settle everything up?"

"I suppose it depends on how you want to do it. Harry had a great many possessions, both real and personal. I can't imagine you'd want to let them all go without giving them serious thought. Then, there's the house to be sold. Cars to be disposed of."

"So what? We're talking a week, maybe two, to wrap all of this up?"

"Oh, I'd think at least that, and possibly longer. It's an extremely large house, and Harry had a great many assets."

I sat there trying to make sense of it all. My entire life would be turned topsy-turvy. And for what? I'd need to take time off from work. I'd have to line up someone to watch David. I knew Aunt Ella would be delighted to cover for me, but I hated to impose on her. And then I wondered what Jake would think of all this?

I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry I can't give you an answer just now. I have to discuss this with my husband. But if I come, I don't want to stay in Harry's house. I didn't know the man that well. I'd feel like an intruder."

"That's okay. There's a lovely old inn nearby, or you could bunk down at a motel in Wiltonburg. I'd be happy to make the arrangements for you, if you'd like."

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

"Either way, let me know. If you're coming for the funeral, I won't bother mailing you a copy of the will. You'd get here before the document reached you."

While he chattered on, I listened as the refrigerator beside me hummed to life and the washing machine let forth a beep, telling me my latest load was done.

They were familiar, homey sounds, I would miss hearing in the coming days if I followed this man's suggestions.

"By the way," Ashworth now said, "are you curious about the estimated value of the estate?"

Recalling Harry's winded voice over the phone, I didn't expect much. "Sure."

"All told your inheritance comes to just under fifteen million."

My eyelids flew open. "Dollars?" I asked, placing my free hand palm down on the kitchen table and drawing several deep breaths.

"Yes, of course, dollars," Ashworth answered. "What else would it be?"

FIND OUT MORE:

Anna Drake, writing mystery novels with a touch of romance and a bit of suspense.  Facebook; Website.

Check out Anna's books on AMAZON.  

Follow Anna on Twitter @LadyNWriter

Excerpt from TRUST by Pamela Kelley

TRUST

By Pamela Kelley

SYNOPSIS:

How well do you really know your significant other? If he or she was accused of a crime, even murder, would you still trust in their innocence unconditionally?

In TRUST, 36-year-old, high school teacher Lauren, has finally put her past behind her and has found the love of her life. She is about to get married when one of her students goes missing and she becomes a person of interest.

Her fiance, David, is excited to settle down with Lauren. When the missing student turns up dead, and the media turns its attention even more closely on Lauren, David is surprised to discover that there are things he didn't know about her past. With the help of his 91 year old grandfather, who is a retired town sheriff, and his best friend Jack, the current assistant sheriff, he searches for the truth.

TRUST is set in a small, seaside town in Massachusetts and cooking helps Lauren to relax as the madness of the investigation swirls around her. In the back of the book you'll find her favorite recipe for braised short ribs (it works just as well with beef brisket too). 

PAM SAYS:

This prologue is an event that happened 20 years ago and will have an impact in this murder investigation as it will plant doubt in people's minds, even though things may not be quite the way they seem. 

EXCERPT:

Prologue 

Twenty years earlier....

     Melissa Hopkins wanted more than anything to be home in her warm bed, securely tucked under her thick down comforter. For several hours now, she'd been sitting in a small windowless room at the local police headquarters, being interrogated by the same two cops non-stop. It made her head ache, although she supposed the drinks she'd had earlier could be a contributor to that as well. 

Most of her friends had started drinking a few years ago, around age fourteen. It was common in Waverly, a beachfront community that was busy in the summer and deadly deserted in the winter months. Her friends considered her a lightweight, as she had always said no, until a few months ago on her sixteenth birthday. 

Melissa closed her eyes and tried to focus, and to remember what really happened, but her memory was a confused blur. She suspected she might have blacked out for a bit. That had happened once before when she’d been drinking vodka, and this time they had been playing quarters on the beach and doing shots. It was hard to play well on the sand, plus someone had the bright idea to mix vodka with orange juice and made the losers slug shots of the drink instead of beer. Melissa's stomach did an unhappy flip just thinking about it.

 "Melissa, your Mom is waiting outside to take you home. As soon as you tell us what we need to hear, you'll be on your way. You want to go home Melissa, don't you?"  The police officers seemed to taunt her.

One was a tough looking Irish guy in his mid-thirties, who was clearly frustrated.  The other cop was younger looking and equally irritated. They started in again, asking the questions they'd already asked, but this time she was hearing them differently.  Her mind was too tired to protest.

"Melissa, the other two boys saw you run after Nancy with the murder weapon. Your prints are all over it, along with her blood. You were mad at Nancy—you admitted that already.  You obviously did this, Melissa." 

Melissa’s head started to throb and she pressed a hand against her forehead, willing the pain to go away. "They saw me run after Nancy? Holding something?" It was so hard to focus. She had been mad at Nancy, furious even, but still, she wouldn’t have killed her. She was sure of it. But it was all a bit hazy. She remembered running, falling and then waking up to a police officer shaking her and a flashlight in her face. She was still very confused and scared and was just sober enough to know that she was in serious trouble. Was there a chance that she could have done this? The police seemed to think so, and they said they had proof.

"Yes, Melissa. Just admit you killed her; all the evidence makes it very clear. If you confess, things will go much easier for you. You could be looking at much less jail time; a huge difference Melissa. We don't think you meant to do this. You didn't mean to kill her, right Melissa?"

"No, I didn't mean to kill her." Melissa felt bewildered, like she was being pulled underwater or in some kind of surreal dream.

  "Say you killed her and you can go home. We can all go home." Their voices were kinder and softer now and Melissa really, really wanted to go home. She'd lost track of how many hours she'd been in this room, but it was much too long.

 "I guess maybe I did it, I'm not really sure. I must have though, right?"

 "Yes, good girl, Melissa. We'll go get your mother."

FIND OUT MORE:

Pamela M. Kelley lives in the historic seaside town of Plymouth, MA near Cape Cod and just south of Boston. She has always been a book worm and still reads often and widely, romance, mysteries, thrillers and cook books. She writes cozy mysteries and romances and you'll probably see food featured along with a recipe or two. She is owned by a cute little Maine Coon Cat, Kelley. 

Check out Pam's books on AMAZON
Get updates from her WEBSITE
Follow her on Twitter @PamelaMKelley

Excerpt from Something Wicked by Renee Harrell

Something Wicked

by Renee Harrell

SYNOPSIS:  

Reeling from a nasty break-up, Ann Lippens isn’t ready for a new relationship, even with someone as attractive as Cody Rhodes. When she rejects Cody's advances, the musician turns his attention to Ann's best friend, Kim.

Kim couldn't be happier. Cody is charming and mysterious, talented and sexy as hell. Who wouldn’t want to be at his side?

Within days, Kim is changing her appearance and behavior to please her new boyfriend. Ann soon discovers that Cody is the near-twin of a dead rock star named Bobby Winters. Winters had a dark and troubled history until his fiery demise. Bobby's string of girlfriends all died early, suspicious deaths.

Discovering the secret timetable for Kim's murder, Ann realizes she's the only one who can stop it. But it's not Kim who Cody truly wants....

RENEE SAYS: 

When my partner, Harrell, and I finished writing the first draft of our story, I felt something was missing. We’d written a novel with a high school-aged protagonist – Ann Lippens is our take on a less secure, more body-conscious, Nancy Drew – but the tale had taken an edgy turn. We needed an opening that offered a hint at the darkness to come.

A few days later, we’d plotted the story’s prologue. We know a lot of readers can’t stand prologues (or epilogues) and routinely skip over them. I certainly hope they read this one…

EXCERPT:

Far below them, the sea splashed against a row of jagged rocks. The ocean roared up at her.

"Isn't this beautiful?" he said. 

The warmth of his breath tickled the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. She turned to see him smiling.

For the first time in days, he appeared relaxed and happy.

"Yes. Yes, so beautiful!” Here at the cliff's edge, with the blue sea beneath her, everything seemed fresher, brighter. Her spirits lifted.

He asked her a question, his words snatched away by the sound of the ocean.

"What?" she shouted.

Irritated, he started to speak before changing his mind. He swept his arm out, his hand extended.

She reached out to him. When she did, he gathered her in his embrace. Pressing a hand on the small of her back, he began to sway.

He wants to dance, she thought.

He'd danced with her before but only once, the night they'd met. Now, he moved smoothly along the cliff's dirt surface. She matched his steps, content to follow his expert guidance.

It was romantic in a weird kind of way. Not a typical date, not by a long shot. After all, how many girls could say they’d slow-danced on Kraken's Peak?

She would remember this afternoon for the rest of her life.

He murmured as they danced. She strained to make out his words. A moment later, she realized there weren’t any words to be heard.

He was humming.

She recognized the tune. She didn’t like the song – Not that I’m going to tell him – but it was his favorite. He'd played it for her, more than once.

With a flourish, he ended the dance. He bowed to her.

As he straightened, she hugged him tightly. "This is perfect," she said into his ear.

"No." He studied her, from her red hair to the green patchwork jumper that brushed lightly against her hips. “Not yet.”

He yanked the heart-shaped locket from her neck. Staggering as the chain ripped through her hair and over her head, she caught herself at the very edge of the cliff. Beneath her shoes, tiny stones spilled into the void, tumbling into space.

She tried to step forward. He put a hand out to stop her, scorn in his eyes.

"Bye," he mouthed, his open hand shoving against her chest.

Flailing her arms desperately, her feet slid on the loose soil. She tried to regain her balance, grasping blindly for anything to stop her descent.

Screaming, she dropped over the edge of the cliff.

He watched as she fell. Her cry was lost in the thunder of the waves as they smashed into the rocks below.

"Things weren't perfect." He wrapped the chain of the locket around his fist. "Things couldn't be perfect because you weren't perfect. You could never replace the woman I loved.

“I have to get her back.”

FIND OUT MORE:  

"Renée Harrell" is the semi-pseudonym of Renée and Harrell Turner, a wife-and-husband writing team. Although we primarily write YA fiction, we've dabbled in science fiction (Aly's Luck and After Things Went Bad), teleplays (Bill Shakespeare's Next Big Mistake) and humorous mystery (Frankenstein, P.I.).

Check out their website HERE and find their books on AMAZON.

Excerpt from ONE GOLD HEART by Sadie Haller

Synopsis 

Mac Wallis agrees to join the wind quintet, Dominant Cord, for the Christmas concert season as a favour to an old friend. It's her first step towards recovery after a vicious attack more than a decade before. However, sparks fly when Dominant Cord's unofficial leader, flutist, Finn Taylor takes issue with Mac's reliance on medication in order to perform.

Mac can't understand why the asshole who so completely humiliated her at their first rehearsal keeps showing up in her late-night fantasies as the Dom of her dreams. It's not even like he's the good kind of bad boy.

After his marriage ended in disaster, Finn tries to steer clear of damaged women, but as a Dom, he feels compelled put aside his own hang-up to help Mac reclaim her independence and her former life.

A note of warning, this story contains material not suitable for readers under 18.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sadie Says:  Mac has suffered a nightmare and her screaming wakes Finn and their friend, Sully. This excerpt takes place shortly after Finn and Sully have calmed Mac down and Sully has returned to his own bed.  What makes this scene special for me? Finn kisses Mac for the first time.  

Excerpt

Finn thought hard. Talk about walking a fine line. What to ask that pushes the envelope without tearing it? He needed to make this question count because he didn't want to make her shut down.

"Right then, let's go for an easy one. What's your favourite part of a man's body. Where do your eyes go first when you meet a man you find interesting?"

"I check out the upper arms. I like them to be muscular, but not in a body-builder way. If a guy needs to flex his biceps in the mirror, his arms are too muscular. I want to feel like those arms are for holding me and keeping me safe, not for his own personal eye-candy."

"I can assure you that I never flex any of my muscles in a mirror. I'm going to cheat a bit, and ask a follow up question. How would you rate my arms?"

Finn resisted the groan that threatened when Mac reached up and gave his left biceps a bit of a squeeze.

"I'd say you're well within acceptable muscular parameters."

"That's a relief. Your turn to ask me something."

"Same question."

"My favourite part on a man's body is..."

Mac giggled. "Smart-ass. You know what I meant."

Finn toyed with giving a less provocative answer, but he refused to be anything less than completely honest.

"Okay, I'd have to say lips. They're so very versatile."

"I buy that."

Finn watched with interest as Mac caught her lower lip in her teeth and screwed her eyes shut. He waited patiently for her to resolve her inner conflict.

With her eyes still squeezed shut, she said, "You got a follow up, so it's only fair that I do too. How would you rate my lips?"

She'd no sooner got the words out and her face was buried into his shoulder.

Finn just about stopped breathing. It was the logical follow up, but that she'd asked it had him scrambling for an answer that would satisfy her, but not scare the shit out of her. Finally, he went with his instincts.

He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently guided her face to meet his. He paused for a moment and looked into her eyes before touching his lips to hers. "Kissable, most definitely kissable," he declared. He gave her another, slightly longer kiss before releasing her chin.

For more on Sadie Haller, check out her books on:  

Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00H3QA5MM

B&N - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940149024544

And you can get updates about Sadie and her writing by visiting her website: http://www.sadiehaller.com or following her on Twitter: @SadieHallersPen 

Excerpt from Hamelin's Child by DJ Bennett

Hamelin's Child 

By DJ Bennett

SYNOPSIS:

Michael Redford died on his seventeenth birthday – the night Eddie picked him up off the street, shot him full of heroin and assaulted him. 

Now he’s Mikey and he works for Joss. With streaked blond hair and a cute smile, he sleeps by day and services clients at night. Sometimes he remembers his old life, but with what he’s become now, he knows there is no return to his comfortable middle-class background.

Then he makes a friend in Lee. A child of the streets, Lee demands more from friendship than Mikey is prepared to give. But the police are closing in on them now and Mikey’s not sure anymore who he really is – streetwise Mikey or plain Michael Redford.

A thriller set in the seedy world of London's drug rings, this book contains strong scenes and adult material.

DEBBIE SAYS:

This is a scene from chapter 8, where a slightly-dubious Michael is getting a lesson in heroin use. He’s still at the stage where he’s rational and sensible enough to know this is a bad idea, but his body is already telling him otherwise. This was a fascinating scene to write as I wanted to get right inside Michael’s head and yet keep it all rather matter-of-fact, because that’s how it works in this place. I do have hands-on experience with drugs (from a law enforcement angle) so I wanted to try to use some of that knowledge but describe it from the other side, so to speak.

EXCERPT:

‘OK, Mikey. Take a seat.’ Joss pulled out a chair and Michael sat down. ‘Lesson one,’ said Joss as he peeled back a piece of the brown tape on the bag, ‘is that you never ever take gear from anyone except me.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you don’t know where it’s been,’ Joss explained patiently. ‘And don’t look so sceptical, Mikey. I’m about to tell you why.’ With a teaspoon, he collected a little of the powder from the hole he’d revealed under the tape – it was grey-white in colour with a floury consistency.

‘This is about ninety percent pure,’ he continued, placing the powder on one of the dishes on the scales. ‘The crap you buy on the streets can get as low as fifteen or twenty percent or less.’ He selected a weight and balanced the scales, scraping a little off the top of the powder and replacing it in the bag. ‘The rest of the mix can be anything from caffeine to talcum powder – neither of which will do you any good at all.’

He produced an even tinier spoon from the box with the scales. Picking up one of the ampoules of liquid, he snapped the neck between his thumb and forefinger and carefully spooned the powder into the top. ‘If you take gear which contains something your body can’t deal with, it might kill you,’ he said, shaking the ampoule gently. ‘And believe me, Mikey, nobody wants you dead.’

No? Michael risked a glance at Eddie, but he wasn’t watching.

Joss held the ampoule up to his eye and examined the contents. ‘Lesson two, is that you always use a clean syringe and needle.’ He glanced up briefly. ‘I’m sure I don’t have to explain the reasoning behind that, do I?’ He smiled and Michael wondered what the hell he was getting into. The longer he sat here, the less he wanted any of this stuff inside him. But just looking at it, he could feel his body reacting in anticipation, an almost sexual thrill making the hairs on his arms stand up.

Michael was amazed at the lengths Joss was going to. He’d thought drug addiction was all shared needles and AIDS. He wondered where the heroin came from in the first place, but decided he was better off not knowing. He’d seenMidnight Express on dvd once and it was not a pretty film.

Joss handed him the ampoule and he sat there stupidly, not knowing what to do with it. The man ripped open one of the sealed plastic bags and pulled out a syringe. With the same careless flick of the wrist, he snapped open the top of a tube and placed the orange-capped needle over the end of the hypodermic. Then he took the ampoule out of Michael’s fingers and laughed.

‘Say something, Mikey.’

‘Such as?’ He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice.

‘I don’t know. This is your shot, so how about please?’

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THIS LINK is a youtube video of Soul Asylum’s Runaway Train. This was always the music for this novel (yes, I’m weird like that), but it wasn’t until much later that I saw the video which is a scarily accurate depiction of the book!  Check out DJ online: www.debbiebennett.co.uk or www.authorselectric.co.uk.  You can order Debbie's books on AMAZON click HERE, and follow DJ on Twitter @debjbennett 

Excerpt from Threaded Through Time: Book One by Sarah Ettritch

SYNOPSIS:

“For those who were born before or after their time...”

That described Pam. She’d always felt that she’d been born too late—there was no chivalry in the world anymore. 

She’d only wanted to commune with the universe while reading a “moon rhyme” in the antique book she’d purchased from the local New Age shop. She had not expected guests—especially not Jasper and Margaret, summoned one hundred years into the future by the rhyme just as Jasper was proposing to Margaret. 

Now the displaced visitors insist that they be returned to 1910, and Pam and her roommate Robin agree. But the rhyme won’t work until the next moon cycle, and in the intervening month, forbidden love blooms between Pam and Jasper, and Robin and Margaret.

SARAH SAYS:

In this passage, Pam (a modern woman) and Jasper (a man from 1910) discuss Pam’s roommate Robin. Jasper doesn’t know that Robin is a lesbian. I chose the passage because it illustrates how attitudes and word meanings can change over time. When writing the book, I researched the etymology of many words. I didn’t want the characters from 1910 to use words they wouldn’t know about. As Jasper and Margaret spent more time in the present day, it became less of an issue.

EXCERPT:

“Are you happy, Pam?”

His question caught her off guard. “Well, yes, for the most part. I admit, I’d be happier with a man in my life. If I didn’t have Robin, I’d be lonely. But I haven’t settled for someone I don’t love just so I won’t be alone when Robin moves out. I’d rather be lonely than settle.”

“But you want to marry.”

“Oh, yes. Definitely.”

Jasper grunted. “Robin’s a queer woman, isn’t she?”

Shock made her voice shrill. “What makes you say that?” Wait. “Oh, you mean odd.” When he nodded, her heart stopped pounding.

“She’s not . . . feminine,” Jasper said.

“Why, because she wears her hair short and prefers pants to dresses? That’s not unusual today, Jasper. Okay, she doesn’t wear makeup or jewelry either, but so what? She’s her own person.”

“I didn’t mean to criticize her,” Jasper said, motioning for Pam to calm down.

“Then don’t judge her by how she looks!” Pam took a deep breath, reminded herself that she was sitting with someone from another time. “Listen, I can see how she might seem unusual to you. But I love her to bits. I know we’re not blood-related, but she’s family, the only family I’ve got. I’d do anything for her, and I know she’d do the same for me. So I can get a little defensive about her.”

“I apologize. Robin is a most gracious host. And so are you.”

Flattery would get him everywhere. “Apology accepted.”

“Do you think she’ll marry?”

“I hope she does.” Robin would probably marry before Pam did—if she stopped worrying about her useless family and started living for herself. Jasper’s lost love, his future tepid marriage to Margaret, Robin eventually meeting a nice woman and moving out . . . what a depressing conversation! “But enough chit-chat. Let’s shoot some pool. Or are you afraid of losing?”

He snorted and pushed back his chair.

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Sarah Ettritch writes science fiction, fantasy, and mystery stories
featuring strong female characters. You can find out more about Sarah and
her books at http://www.sarahettritch.com . You can buy Threaded Through
Time at Amazon (http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005AJ9FJS ), and folow her on Twitter @SarahEttritch