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Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Book Review of The Stone Guardian


Book Review of The Stone Guardian
Sponsored by Bewitching Book Tours




Welcome to Books, Books, and More Books.  I am pleased to share my review of this book with you.  Thank you for visiting and please come again.

The Stone Guardian
Theresa McClinton

Tagline: When myth becomes reality, reality becomes a nightmare.

Blurb : 
Like any other teenager in America, Ashley just wants a normal life. But growing up in an orphanage for the insane is anything but normal. After endless therapy and increasing medication, her nightmares have only gotten worse.

Probably because they’re not nightmares.

When Ashley’s mysteriously abducted, she finds a reality even less normal than the orphanage. And she discovers something else—she’s no ordinary orphan. Faced with enemies thought to only exist in fairy tales, Ashley discovers she possesses a powerful Maya bloodline. She’s the daughter of an ancient Maya Guardian, whose duty is to protect the Stone of Muuk’ich, an enchanted relic blessed by the gods. But first she must get it back from Sarian, a power-hungry demigod who slaughtered the last guardian—Ashley’s mother. Without the stone, all will be lost.

When she meets Arwan, a hot Belizean time bender, his delicious olive skin and dark eyes make her feel a little less alone. But his gentle whispers and reassuring touch might not be all they seem. How can she balance love and duty when it’s up to her to prevent the rising of the underworld? Especially when the guy she loves might be its crown prince…

About the Author:

A long time enthusiast of things that go bump in the night, Theresa started her writing career as a journalism intern—possibly the least creative writing field out there. After her first semester at a local newspaper, she washed her hands of press releases and features articles to delve into the whimsical world of young adult paranormal romance.

Since then, Theresa has gotten married, had three terrific kids, moved to central Ohio, and was repeatedly guilt tripped into adopting a menagerie of animals that are now members of the family. But don’t be fooled by her domesticated appearance. Her greatest love is travel. Having stepped foot on the soil of over a dozen countries, traveled to sixteen U.S. states—including an extended seven-year stay in Kodiak, Alaska—she is anything but settled down. But wherever life brings her, she will continue to weave tales of adventure and love with the hope her stories will bring joy and inspiration to her readers.

Guest Vlog from Author:



Book Trailer:



Excerpt:

“Where are we going?” Ashley asked, walking a few steps behind. Arwan slowed his pace for her much shorter stride. She wasn’t used to hiking in the jungle, but she didn’t want to show it. He found that a cute addition to the many things he admired about her.
Without offering an explanation, he grabbed a stick from the ground. If he told her where he was taking her, it would ruin the surprise. He just hoped the creatures hadn’t taken shelter somewhere else because of the heavy rains.
Soon they arrived at a clearing where hundreds of tall, thin bushes with elegant purple blooms covered the ground. Mature trees formed a canopy overhead, while gaps in the branches allowed the sun to speckle the jungle floor with light.
“I thought you would like it here.” He watched for her reaction.
She inspected the space. “It’s neat.”
Of course, she didn’t know why they were really there. He watched her shift her weight. Did she lie when she said he didn’t make her uncomfortable? It seemed like he did. Every time he smiled at her, her cheeks flushed or her muscles tensed.
Arwan gently took her hand. She allowed him to, without hesitation. It was the first time.
Carefully, he guided her through the maze of shrubs. When they reached the center, he stood in front of her and put his lips close to her ear. “Can I hold you?” She took a small step back. He waited for her to decide and, at the slightest nod, took her hand. “I just want to show you something.”
He slid his hand gently around her waist and drew her close. Her chest jumped when they pressed together. He savored the feeling of her drumming heartbeat. In fact, he could almost hear it.
She rested her hands against his chest, and he wondered if she felt his heart drumming too. “You’re blushing.”
She pressed the backs of her hands on her face. “I am?”
He caressed the silky curve of her cheek. “You’re lovely when you blush.” The stick secure in his hand, he extended it to the side. “Watch.” With a powerful strike, he whacked a nearby bush on its base. Dozens of butterflies launched into the air.
The flight of few caused a chain reaction, and soon they blanketed the sky. Several landed in her hair and on her arms while more flew overhead.
Arwan tilted his head back to the sky. Ashley gasped and stared at the countless array of colors gliding overhead. A butterfly rested on his shoulder, pumping its cobalt blue wings. She gently blew on it, her warm breath caressing his neck.
His chest swelled with longing. He clenched his jaw. Watching her lips form into a soft circle, she continued to blow on its colorful wings. He had never wanted someone so fiercely. She brought something out of him he couldn’t control. Something instinctual, animalistic. He watched her lips, longing to kiss her. To feel her mouth pressed against his. The need surged in his chest and spread throughout his limbs. He tensed and pulled her closer.
He knew he had to be gentle. As much as he tried to conceal the need, it threatened to destroy him if he didn’t at least try. Slowly, he leaned in to kiss her. His lips hovered above hers. Her hot breath broke over his mouth.
Ashley gasped and stepped back. Her teary eyes forced him to look away. He silently cursed himself. He’d pushed her too far.
“I…” The hurt in her voice surprised him. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Before he could respond, Ashley ran back toward the house, leaving him alone in the clearing.
He watched her stumble through the trees until she was gone. The jungle was quiet, except for the sound of chirping birds and the rustling of lemurs in the trees.
He turned, balling his fists. What the hell was he thinking? He’d known that if he tried to kiss her, it would push her away. He should have shown more restraint.
Each of his steps pounded against the jungle floor. The birds’ chirps ceased, and the lemurs took quiet refuge in the branches. When he escaped the maze of bushes, he charged his fist into the trunk of a mature tree, spitting layers of bark and redwood in every direction.

Review

Wow. I want to thank Theresa McClinton forher  great Vlog guest post. Be sure to watch that. Also the trailer for the book is fabulous.

I love the idea that two people are fighting for control of the super power or power of the stone.  However, I thought it was harsh that they left her to be raised in an orphanage, regardless of the reasons.   Then there is the whole exactly which side or what plans do each of the members of this team really have?  I can’t wait for book two to find out.

Excellently written, Theresa McClinton creates a fascinating world of many dimensions.  I give this book 4.5 out of 5 clouds.

This product or book may have been distributed for review; this in no way affects my opinions or reviews.

Giveaway and Book Review of Haunted Laird

First and foremost I owe an apology to Ms. Nina for missing the post on 1/7/13. I was ill this week and slept for a full 24 hours and totally missed a whole day.  You have my greatest apology.


Giveaway and Book Review of Haunted Laird
Sponsored by Innovative Book Tours



Welcome to Books, Books, and More Books.  I am pleased to share my review of this book with you.  Thank you for visiting and please come again.




Blurb : 
Book four in the Cursed MacKinnons series.
Lynn’s ghost-hunting trip in Scotland takes an unpleasant turn when she’s kidnapped from her camp by a group of men rambling about curses and a brotherhood. In a daring escape, Lynn falls over a cliff and awakens in a cave being guarded by a ghost, who insists she’s the key to freeing a man who has been cast in stone by an evil curse. And what a man he is…

Padon has been imprisoned for over two centuries, frozen in stone. He is awoken when a sexy siren recites the anti-curse, but he is only partially free. Stone by day, man by night. Passion ignites between him and his savior immediately, which makes falling to the curse each morning that much harder. He and Lynn seek a resolution by making the trek to Padon’s family castle. But the kidnappers have other plans and will do whatever they must to make sure this couple never makes it to their destination.




About the Author:
Hot Romance~Sexy Attitude best describes Tara Nina’s writing style. She creates for Ellora’s Cave in sensuality ranges from steamy hot to simmering sweet, which includes paranormals, contemporaries and romantic suspense. She is a Southerner living in the northern wilds of New Jersey complete with grown children, three dogs, and a mountain man for a husband.

Contacts:

·         Website:  http://taranina.com
·         Blog: http://taranina.blogspot.com/
·         Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/tara.nina
·         Twitter: https://twitter.com/taranina
·         Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/taranina
·         Youtube   <iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4AQISBElen4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

BUY NOW LINK:
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Amazon paper book · Amazon Kindle copy


Giveaway:

For USA Buyers of Double Dilemma, Portal to Passion and  Night Prey will be mailed both a signed cover flat and a signed book plate for their book. All other USA buyers Tara Nina books purchased will get a signed book plate.  Please email a copy of your purchase receipt to Vickie@innovativeonlinebooktours.com along with your mailing address.
Giveaway:  2 $20.00 Amazon Gift Cards  signed books 1- Eyes of Stone, 1- Silken Delights, 1-Portal to Passion.




Excerpt:

Chapter One
By the time they finally took a break, Lynn had heard enough. The three men bickered worse than a group of old women sitting around with nothing to do but complain about what ailed them. She still couldn’t believe one of them was Fin, Travis’ partner at MacShain’s Guided Tours. The tour company she’d employed to explore the greatest haunted locations in Scotland. If she’d known one of them was a kidnapper, she never would have joined their group.
Travis! Where was Travis? He’d completely slipped her mind. What had they done with him? It made her stomach churn not knowing if her friend were dead or alive. Though she’d listened closely to every word they’d said, they never mentioned what happened to him. And she had been so intent on fighting them when they took her captive, she hadn’t noticed if he lay unconscious or in a pool of blood at their campsite.
She fidgeted but couldn’t move much being they’d tied her hands and feet, then secured her to a makeshift litter with the sleeping bag from her tent that they wrapped thick tape around until she was wedged tight. All she could think when she looked at the contraption they had her in was one word. Papoose. She was being hauled up a mountain in a giant papoose. They’d covered her mouth with a piece of the same tape so she couldn’t scream. Though she tired, she couldn’t push it off with her tongue or wiggle her lips enough to loosen it.
So she resolved herself to lie there, listen, and reserve her strength. They were bound to make a mistake and when they did, she planned to use it to her advantage and escape.
Fin had hidden his face at the campsite she shared with Travis, by keeping his hood tucked low over his head so she didn’t get a good look at him then. Now he didn’t even try to hide from her as she glared at him while he carried the foot end of her prison. The other two, named Lonnie and Timothy, she couldn’t see well from her position. One of them was at the head end of the litter while the other apparently led the way. From what she’d overheard, she was beginning to piece together some of what they were up to, but still didn’t understand why it involved kidnapping her.
What did they want with an American from Texas?
If they planned to ransom her off, the joke was on them. Her family wasn’t rich. The only surviving blood-related member was her sister, who was married to a small town pharmacist and they had a set of triplets. Definitely no money left there. Absently she shook her head. As to her, when Eddie died, he left her comfortable but not extremely wealthy by any means. If she lived frugally, which she did, the money would last for years. So as far as exchanging her for money, they were out of luck, but she didn’t think they had taken her for money. There was this one thing they spoke of several times. 
Who or what was this brotherhood they mentioned?
Lynn inhaled deeply through her nose. Apparently this brotherhood wanted something they were willing to pay steeply to obtain and didn’t care what methods were taken to get it. But these guys were out of their minds if they thought she had anything of worth for this brotherhood. She doubted it was her they wanted. It sounded like something was hidden somewhere on this mountain. If they thought she knew where it was, they were crazy.
Unless… She scrolled through everything she’d learned so far. What if they were after something in the cave Travis was taking her to visit? Had they captured her as a trade-off for the cave’s location? Did they think that particular cave held whatever it was they were looking for? Did they think Travis shared the coordinates with her and she’d be able to lead them there? Questions tumbled through her head as she swallowed the lump of growing fear in her throat. She didn’t know anything. She closed her eyes, wishing she’d never taken Travis’ offer to introduce her to a ghost.
She lay there reliving the conversation she’d had with Travis several nights earlier. She must have looked like the biggest sucker going sitting across the table from Travis at a pub after their tour of the underground vaults. Lynn inwardly reprimanded herself for hanging on to his every word as he’d shared his tale of a night he’d spent in a cave with an ancient Scotsman’s specter. Travis claimed he would take her there and she’d be able to communicate with a ghost. The one thing she had yet to achieve in all her years of seeing apparitions was actually speaking with the dead and somehow he’d figured that out and used it against her.
Had he noticed her reactions to the lingering souls wandering the vaults? There had been so many, she felt certain she hadn’t been able to suppress her excitement from her facial expressions. Had he read her desires and played her for a fool? Throughout the tour, she’d noticed Travis seemed to watch her more intently than any of the others. At the pub, he’d explained he’d been waiting for the right person with which to share his spiritual find. She’d fallen for it completely and even did her best to assure him she was the one he needed, a true believer in everything paranormal.
Was he somehow a part of this whole kidnapping ploy? Lynn shivered inwardly. She hadn’t thought of that before. Was Travis not really her friend but an instigator in this ruse to capture an American? She couldn’t think straight as ideas of subterfuge and dastardly deeds tormented her thoughts. No! She refused to believe ill of Travis. He was innocent in this whole scenario.  
Damn! The predicament she’d managed to get herself into all in the name of ghost chasing. This addiction of hers was finally going to get her killed.
“Lonnie,” Timothy griped, loudly. Lynn stirred from her musings and concentrated on their conversation, hoping for a thread of information she could use in her favor. “We need a break. Carrying this chick up the mountain isn’t easy.”
“Yeah,” Fin chimed in, “when’s your turn ta help carry her?”
“Quit your grousing,” Lonnie snapped. “We don’t have much farther and we’ll be at the campsite.”
“This better be worth it,” Fin stated heatedly. “The society offered a tidy sum. How do we know this brotherhood will keep their promise? The society will pay, there’s no question there. But this brotherhood seems a bit shady ta me.”
“You’ve pointed that out before, Fin. How many times I got ta tell you?” Lonnie’s growing frustration was evident in his tone. “Me and Tim helped save Brother Leod from a fire at a club in London. He promised ta make us rich if we joined his group.”
Lynn felt the foot of the litter lower as Fin set her down. He moved to stand face to face with Lonnie, who now stood near her shoulder. It was apparent he was the one in charge of this operation. She could sense the tension between them. This was something she could use to her advantage. Fin didn’t speak much during the week of her guided tour through the haunts of Edinburgh. He’d let his partner Travis do all the tour guide stuff while he drove the bus. Now he didn’t seem to hold his tongue.
“I just find it mighty strange this Brother Leod knows so much about the clan we swore ta protect.”
We,” Lonnie screeched, leaning to within millimeters of Fin’s face. “I don’t know about you, but I took no oath. It was a fairy tale, a myth handed down from our forefathers that suckered us into believing in a curse on a clan that no longer exists.”
“It must be some truth behind it or why would so many before us stand together united?” Lynn saw Fin’s stance change as if making ready to fight. “And best o’ all, why would this newfound friend o’ yours be so interested in what the society protects? Think maybe he’s up ta no good?”
Lonnie shook as he waved his hands in the air in frustration. “I think you be backing out on us, Fin. You be in too tight with the society.” He poked Fin in the chest with his forefinger as he bellowed, “Are you with us or are you not? You might want ta be thinking about it afore you answer.” He nodded toward the side of the path that was a steep drop-off into a ravine. “Looks ta be a mighty long fall.”
Fin’s shoulders tightened and it appeared as if he reined in his anger, taking a step back. She heard his heavy exhale as he replied, “I’m in.”
“Good,” Lonnie spat back at him. “Now pick up your end and let’s get going.”
Lynn couldn’t help but wonder about Fin’s connection with these two.
Silence fell between them, which gave her time to sort through the limited details. Apparently they all belonged to some sort of society sworn to protect some nonexistent clan. Lonnie had a new friend with lots of money and a desire to own something the society protected. But what? None of them had let that slip.
Fin wouldn’t look at her. Instead his gaze seemed to glance occasionally behind him as if expecting to see someone there at any moment. Travis maybe? Momentarily a spark of hope for his safety gave her an instant of relief that Travis might be tracking them or gone for help. When Fin wasn’t looking behind, his eyes stayed straightforward and she could only imagine the hole his glare would bore through Lonnie’s back if he had such a power.
And from what she’d figured out, Timothy did whatever Lonnie told him to do. So even if Fin had changed his mind about being a part of this team, he was out-numbered. She focused on Fin. He was the weak link. Something didn’t seem right with him and this little adventure. Something she hoped she could twist in her favor when the time was right.
It was after dark when they reached the designated campsite on the ridge. Tents were already erected. It appeared as if they had set up camp before they invaded her campsite and took her captive. They set her down. Timothy stacked wood in the pit to build a fire. Fin disappeared into one of the two tents. Lonnie plopped onto a large rock beside the pit.
When Fin came out of his tent carrying a lit lantern, she tried to talk against the tape to get his attention. Though it was nothing more than a mumbled noise, he squatted beside her and sat the lantern on the ground near her head. In a low tone, he spoke to her, “I’m going ta remove the tape. If you scream, I’ll have ta put it back. You no going ta scream are you?”
Lynn shook her head and he slowly removed the tape from her mouth. She wiggled her jaw and wet her lips. It felt good to have that off her face. Now if she could just get him to unwrap the tape that bound her to the stretcher and release her arms from behind her back her shoulders would be forever grateful.
“Can you untie me please?” she asked softly, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
Fin glanced at his partners then pulled out a pocketknife and started cutting the tape. He hadn’t gotten far when Lonnie jumped up and ran over to him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Fin didn’t stop. He continued cutting without looking up from his task. “The lass is in need o’ a bathroom break.”
Lonnie commanded, “Then she’s your responsibility. Make sure she doesn’t get away.” He turned on his heels and stomped over to the other tent and went inside.
“Real friendly guy,” Lynn stated coolly. Fin smiled at her wisecrack and the tension in the back of her neck eased. Once he freed the tape from across the sleeping bag, he lifted it off her and helped her sit upright. After cutting the tape binding her ankles, he untied the rope from around her wrists.
“You okay ta stand?”
“I think so. I’m a little stiff.”
“Here, I’ll help you,” Fin offered as he took her hands and guided her to her feet.
Lynn’s legs were fine. She wiggled her toes in her boots trying to loosen the tightness in her ankles. Rolling her shoulders and moving her fingers helped relieve the dead sensation and numbness in her arms and hands. The small of her back ached from lying on her hands balled beneath her. The only good thing from being carried up the mountain, she’d laid there listening, learning their motives and reserving her energy. As soon as the tingling quit in her arms and feet, she knew she’d be ready to make a break for it.
She took a step toward the trees when Fin cut her off. “Nay, lassie. I’ve got ta keep you from running.” He held a longer rope, which he secured around her waist.
“Really,” Lynn said with her eyebrow cocked and a hand on the rope.
“It’s either this or I hold your hand while you pee,” Fin stated point-blank. Lynn opened her mouth to protest then shut it. He was serious. He grabbed the lantern and held it out so she could see where she was going.
They walked several feet away from the tents. Fin stopped her and turned her to face him. He hung the lantern on a branch so it bathed the area in a low glow. He took hold of her hands as he spoke in a whispered tone so only she could hear.
“Listen, Lynn. Things are not as they seem. Please abide by Lonnie’s rules for now and I’ll see ta it you make it home safe.”
Lynn swallowed her excitement. She was right about Fin. He really wasn’t part of this, but somehow had gotten roped into it. Keeping her voice low and her tone even she asked, “Why are you helping them?”
“That be a question I cannot answer now.” He nodded toward the campsite. “You best be doing your business quickly or Lonnie just might come looking for us. He may not be the brightest but he does have a mean streak.”
She nodded and scooted behind the trees out of his view. Indecision warred with her insides as she relieved herself while at the same time loosening the rope. She wasn’t a liar, she really had to go but she had no intentions of missing the opportunity to escape. When she stood and secured her jeans, she turned and walked face first into a hand over her mouth and an arm around her waist.
“Don’t scream, Lynn. It’s me, Travis,” he whispered in her ear.
Fear filled her. In her panic, his words didn’t register. She bit his hand and kneed him in the family jewels. Adrenaline rushed making her run faster than she’d ever run in her life. Limbs slapped her face and left behind stinging scratches. Darkness surrounded her, only the occasional light from the stars and moon filtered through the canopy of trees. Limited line-of-sight didn’t stop her. She kept on running. Several times she tripped and miraculously she managed to stay on her feet, blindly grabbing hold of branches or trees to break her fall.
Voices echoed behind her making her push onward even though she gasped for air. Her lungs hurt. There wasn’t an uncovered patch of skin that didn’t burn from being attacked by objects in the dark. She knew if she didn’t slow down she was going to get severely injured. When she couldn’t hear the voices behind her anymore, she slowed to a stop and bent over with her hands on her knees trying to clear her head and breathe.
Wheezing in and out, she thought she was going to be sick even though her stomach was empty. Her capturers hadn’t fed her. Dizziness made her head spin, causing her to crumble to her knees. Uncontrollable tears gushed and for the first time since the whole thing started, she felt completely helpless. Sob after sob croaked from deep inside her before she finally curled into a ball on the soft forest floor.
She lay there for several minutes more, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. The sensation of warmth cocooned her, soothing her, clearing her thoughts as the faint sound of her dead husband’s voice flowed inside her head. Think, Lynn. Think. There’s got to be a way out of this. Lying on the ground won’t save you.
Lynn sat upright, dried her eyes and gathered her wits. Eddie reached out to her in her time of need just as he’d done whenever she was down or distraught over the past three years. This she knew in her heart. Whether she imagined it or not, it was his whispered words of encouragement that sparked her drive to survive and pulled her back together. He was the reason she’d come on this trip to Scotland, to fulfill their ghost hunting dreams. She’d be damned if she’d let some two-bit kidnappers ruin her life. She struggled to her feet and straightened her clothes as best as possible.
Up ahead through the trees, she thought she saw a break in the woods. Maybe there was a meadow and quite possibly a house with people who could help her. Slowly she worked her way in that direction. The sound of male voices from somewhere behind her scared her. They were still coming after her and getting closer. She dug deep for any energy she had left and ran.
The moment she cleared the tree line, the ground went out from under her. She landed on her backside and began a torturous slide, bouncing off saplings, rocks and underbrush as her speed increased. Afraid she’d break her neck if she didn’t stop, Lynn kept grabbing onto anything that would slow her descent. Several times the thin saplings she managed to grasp pulled out of the soft ground, slowing her some but not much. Digging in her heels helped, but the moist soil gave away until she hit a solid mass, a well-embedded rock that stopped her downward spiral.
Lynn came to a bone-jarring halt, leaning into the side of the mountain and praying the rock beneath her feet didn’t pull out of place. Once the dirt around her stopped shifting, she evaluated her condition. It didn’t seem as if anything was broken but it was hard to tell through the total body numbness. Breathing deep, she calmed her overwrought nerves and forced her trembling hands to search from side to side for anything that would help support her. Peering down the length of her body, she realized she’d slipped into a ravine and from her position, it looked bottomless. It wasn’t an open meadow she’d seen, it was simply an optical illusion caused by the way the moonlight played upon the countryside.
Damn! She closed her eyes and it hit her. She was living the dream she had the first night of this ghost hunting adventure. Dead tired from hiking into the Grampian Mountains, cozy and warm in her sleeping bag, her imagination ran wild in her sleep and she had awoken all hot and bothered by the images fired to life in her brain. Thinking back, it replayed as if she were asleep and the dream reoccurred.
Don’t look down, whispered through her head as she gasped for a full breath. She clung on for life in her dream just like she did now. Dirt slipped from the mountain, crumbling around her with any movement. Lynn kept her eyes closed tight, listening to the echo of a rock as it rolled into the deep crevice beneath her. It sounded so far away. She tried desperately not to think on the ‘what if she fell’ scenario and let the memory of the dream temporary control her thoughts.
She’d had help then whereas now there was none. As she’d reached upward, a hand had grabbed hers. If she remembered correctly, warmth had shot down her arm as a strong hand wrapped around hers. Lynn leaned back into the mountain, letting the vision of hope live in her mind in a valiant effort to relieve the tension of her reality.
One hand held hers, while the other reached and grabbed her backpack, tugging her into the mouth of a cave without so much as a grunt from the effort. Once certain of her safety, she’d lifted onto her knees, turned on a flashlight she couldn’t remember from where she’d gotten it, after all it was a dream. Several seconds passed before she could actually focus. But when she did, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
A gorgeous hunk of a man dressed in full-scale, ancient Scottish regalia stood staring down at her. The way the light played across the plains of his face gave him a dangerously rugged appeal. She couldn’t decide if his eyes were green, blue or a mixture of both. A firm jaw held a set of perfect male lips. Waves of dark hair thick with amber highlights hung loose about his broad shoulders.
He was bare-chested except for the leather strap that crossed from left shoulder to right hip, which held the sheath for the sword she saw the handle of above his shoulder. The man’s abdominal muscles were unlike any she’d ever seen. Ripped was the only word that came to mind, but even that didn’t do him justice. A red and green plaid kilt slung low across his hips lay perfectly to his knees. Laced boots covered from his calves to his toes, but from the snug fit hid nothing about their musculature. His legs befit the rest of him, muscles on top of muscles.
For a split second, wonder if he’s true to his kilt flashed inside her brain and she’d had to fold her hands together to resist the temptation to lift the plaid and take a peek. She swallowed hard, then forced her brain to work and made her mouth form a sentence.
“Thank you for saving me.” She remembered speaking as she held her hand out to him.
He’d stared for what seemed like an eternity before he reached for it and helped her to her feet. She stumbled on weakened legs and fell against the solid wall of male flesh. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her closer along the warmth of his form. His other hand’s fingers gently touched her chin and guided her face upward. He seemed to study her before his eyes met hers.
The low sultry baritone of his words washed over her as he spoke. “Nay, milady. 'Tis ye who hath saved mi.”
In the dream, his arm tightened around her waist as he lifted her without any effort. One of her hands held his thick, bulging biceps while her other hand landed on his waist for support. Never had anyone lifted her to kiss her. Nerves fired to life that she’d thought were dead. The closer his lips got, the more she wanted his kiss. This slow motion event was killing her. The heat of his breath caressed her lips just millimeters apart. The warmth of his body set her on fire with desire.
Lynn caught herself craning her neck trying to reach his lips. Opening her eyes reality set in. She truly clung to the side of a mountain for life. She tilted her chin upward, but saw nothing much in the darkness. Was there a handsome man waiting to rescue her? Nervously she laughed at the ludicrous thought. There wasn’t anyone who knew where she was or would risk their life to save her.
This wasn’t a dream. This was her reality.
No, it was up to her to save herself. She dug deep, brushing away the perfect hero-saves-the-day dream from her thoughts and struggled for survival.
Cautious in her movements, she inched along the rock, turning until she was face first against the dirt. Should she try to climb down or was it easier to go up? Lynn moved her hands palm flat along the ground searching for any point of support, anything she could grasp. The fingertips of her right hand brushed something rough and solid. Lynn rotated her head in that direction. It appeared to be a ledge. God, she hoped it would hold her.
With slow, careful movements, she worked her way toward the lip in the rock, hugging her body to the mountain for dear life. She used the plants for leverage, holding on but not pulling so their roots wouldn’t break and jerk free from the ground. It seemed like an eternity had past before she reached the ledge. Every muscle ached and trembled but she refused to give in to the exhaustion that threatened to tear her from the mountainside. Nope. She didn’t plan to fail. That ledge was her salvation, her place to rest and recuperate until sunrise.
She gripped the rocky edge. When it didn’t break off and slide away, relief made her smile. Now all she had to do was pull herself up onto it. Toeing her boots into the dirt, she tried to push upward using her legs. The ground slid out from beneath her right foot and she slipped, leaving her dangling by her hands. Her shoulders screamed in pain and her arms shook, but she tightened her grip refusing to lose this battle.
Sheer will helped her find a sturdier foundation. Her left foot located a rock and her right she planted between the base of a bush and the dirt. Spread-eagled wasn’t the best position but it kept her from falling any farther. The rock didn’t feel as sturdy as the bush so she pushed up on her right leg and glided her left leg closer to the right until it found a secure spot stuck in a hole a wee bit higher than the bush. She struggled inch by inch until she was able to hoist herself onto the ledge.
Lynn rolled several feet away from the edge and onto her back. Breathing heavily, she lay still trying to evaluate her condition. Nothing felt broken. Her legs and arms trembled from the excessive exertion she’d placed on them. This definitely was more exercise than she’d ever gotten. Seconds turned into minutes as she simply lay there. The pounding of her heart resumed its normal pace and the tension in her body relaxed, giving her a chance to reflect on the events that led up to her precarious predicament.
Don’t scream, Lynn. It’s me, Travis.
The words rolled around inside her head and the sudden realization of what she’d done surfaced. Ohmygod! Travis! She’d attacked Travis, the one person who she thought was on her side. Or maybe he wasn’t. She truly didn’t know for sure anymore. Hysterical laughter rose from her chest.
What had she done?
She rolled onto her side and curled into a ball. The laughter slowed and exhaustion took over. Everything hurt. Both arms and legs trembled uncontrollably. A deep-seated ache bloomed from her core and spread outward until every ounce of her was thoroughly sated, causing her muscles to spasm at will. Her body gave her no other choice but to sleep. If she saw the morning light, it would be a miracle.
Invisible, strong, gentle hands caressed her, lulling her to sleep. Warmth surrounded her. The handsome man reappeared in her dreams, giving her comfort in her time of need. She snuggled closer into the imaginary heat of his body. He surrounded her, coddling her against him as if he alone would protect her from the elements. Sensing he stood watch, Lynn relaxed further into the depths of sleep, letting his sexy image renew her desire for life and for him.
He appeared to be tall with wide shoulders and thick arms that would hold her for as long as she needed to be held. Long, dark hair with rich shades of red was pulled away from his face, making her wish to untie what bound it and set it free to landscape his rugged features. Deep, blue-green eyes stared at her filled with wonder and wisdom beyond his years.
In this dream, he said nothing nor did she. He simply held her while she slept, keeping her close and away from the edge of the ledge. His imaginary heat warmed her and warded off the cool night air. A sensual dream not sexual guided her into a peaceful place where the hazards of her day no longer existed. It was just her and her hot, dream-walking man.

Review

            What is it about Scottish men? Maybe it’s the kilts and the fact that real Scotsmen don’t wear anything beneath them or maybe it’s the thought of them wearing only a kilt.  Whatever it is, this Scotsman is hot… and cursed.  That’s right he’s a statue and it’s up to Lynn to break the curse and free him.  Of course then she’s going to have to teach him about the 200 years he missed.

            This book was wonderfully written.  The details show how much the author researched both Scotland and Scottish history.  And did I mention hot Padon is?  Wow, he could ravish me anytime.  He has moved to the top of my fantasy men (don’t tell my husband).

            The book is also quite sensual. This is definitely a 21 and older kind of book.  After 200 years of waiting, Padon is oh so sexy and ready to prove he is all man.

            I give this book 4.5 out of 5 clouds and a 6 on the chili pepper scale.

This product or book may have been distributed for review; this in no way affects my opinions or reviews.

Book Review of Hobson’s Choice





First and foremost I owe an apology to Mr. West for missing the post on 1/7/13. I was ill this week and slept for a full 24 hours and totally missed a whole day.  You have my greatest apology.

Book Review of Hobson’s Choice
Sponsored by Virtual Book Tours

Welcome to Books, Books, and More Books.  I am pleased to share my review of this book with you.  Thank you for visiting and please come again.

Genre: Short stories anthologies

Blurb : 

Hobson’s Choice & 15 other twist-in-the-tail short stories

This is a collection of stories whose endings you can try to predict, but you will almost always get it wrong. From the lottery-winner who inspires enmity in his neighbour, to the fraudulent fortune-teller discovering that she has a psychic gift after all, to the down-trodden schoolboy whose 'daydreams' reveal a crime which he then uses all his ingenuity to expose, a huge range of characters walk through these pages.

Some of them are innocent; others, like the greedy property-developer, border on evil; but most of them are human with all the foibles and self-interest inherent in that condition. To read these stories is to share in the author's jaundiced view of the world - a world nonetheless illuminated by flashes of humour, pathos and warmth. You will be hugging yourself with glee at the 'comeuppance' doled out to some characters, and wishing you could dive into the story to give a timely warning to others. You will certainly be turning the pages rapidly to see what happens ...

About the Author:

Clive West was born in the West Country of England in the early 60's. He was educated at a traditional English public school before going on to university to study civil engineering. Over the years, he has worked as a civil engineer, tutor of maths and science, schools quiz-master, employment agency boss, and writer.
His work includes a collection of short stories with twists called Hobson's Choice (also available in print), a full-length novel called 'The Road' about the consequences of corruption on ordinary people and an accessible job hunting interview guide (based on his years of experience as the boss of an employment agency).
He has also written a book about lymphedema. This is a disfiguring, life-threatening and incurable disease he now suffers from and which his experience shows that most fellow patients have (like him) been abandoned by their respective health services.
Clive now lives in a rebuilt farmhouse in the Umbrian region of Italy along with Damaris, his writer wife of 22 years and their three rescue dogs. Apart from his fictional work, Clive also writes commercial non-fiction on a variety of topics but especially relating to business and employment. He and Damaris run an indie publishers called Any Subject Books Ltd – www.anysubject.com
Clive is now disabled but, aside from his writing, he also enjoys playing the keyboard, listening to music and reading.

Contacts:

Contact details: books@anysubject.com
Kindle Edition Amazon US | Amazon UK
Paperback
UK | US

Excerpt:

“Cor, I need to rest me old bones a mo’. Mind if we stop ‘ere just for a quick break?” Lily, the self-appointed leader of the ‘three friends’ urged the aforementioned old bones to make one last supreme effort to get as far as the park bench.
Lily, Daisy and Emily - the ‘E’s - had a combined age of well over 200 and they were always keen to impart their acquired wisdom to anyone who gave the pretence of listening. They ‘hung out’ together (as Emily, the most modern-thinking one of them was apt to say), in a home for the elderly (but not quite insane, Lily joked) and would escape at every opportunity.
Daisy was the quiet planner who normally came up with the ideas for how to spend the day. Today it was a trip into town, a wander around the boating lake, and then back to the ‘Old Folk’s Home’ for tea.
It was getting on in the afternoon now and darkness was not far off. Although there were three of them, privately they all feared the dark – the time of muggers, bag-snatchers, and worse. Tea-time at the Home was boringly predictable but at least - and more importantly these days - it was safe.
“I remember when this was just fields,” Lily said, suddenly.
“No you don’t,” corrected Daisy, “You come from up North. You weren’t here when they made all this.”
“Lil’ might not have been but I was,” offered Emily attempting to keep the peace. “They wanted to put houses here but some big-wig put the boot in. I can’t remember who it was but they had his name put on all the benches in his honour.”
Emily turned to inspect the bench they were sitting on. “Yes, here it is, an inscription ‘in memoriam’ – there you go,” she pointed at a small, time-darkened brass plate screwed to the back of the seat.
“Never noticed that before,” exclaimed Lily, “Funny, innit, you live here all your life and you don’t see something like that. Oh well,” she sat down again and turned back to the other two ladies. “Who’s up for bingo, tonight?”
From some way off, the two boys whom Pat had earlier sent packing, spotted the old ladies. One boy was in an empty shopping trolley which the other was pushing. They suddenly veered across to the bench, clearly looking for mischief. The three ladies bunched up together defensively.
“Wanna one-way trip to the cemetery, grannies?” the boy in the trolley demanded.
“Give us yer purses and we’ll take yer there,” the other boy shouted mockingly. In a show of bravado, he shoved his mate in the trolley towards the lake.
“Eh, what you doin’?” He jumped out just before the trolley splashed into the muddy water, scaring the ducks and swans into a burst of protest.
The boys started scrapping with each other and the three elderly ladies tacitly decided that now was a good time to be moving on. There was no point in tempting fate; modern youths had no respect and most of them were drug-crazed and carried knives – they had seen it on the telly and read about it in the papers.
Just as the boys were about to take off after the three women, they glimpsed the young policeman striding towards them. They certainly had no wish to enter into discussions with him. Apart from having made his acquaintance on prior occasions, the last thing they needed was him checking up on them and finding out that they had been skiving off school all day.
Abandoning the trolley, they legged it off in the direction of a little corner shop that was happy to sell them both individual cigarettes and cans of beer, and cider from a multi-pack, as long as they had the necessary cash and no-one was looking.
The policeman sighed at the sight of the trolley in the lake. He was just about to go off duty and had no desire to spend his own time locating the relevant supermarket manager, less still be seen pushing the trolley through the streets. If an amateur photographer should catch him doing that, copies of the picture would be pasted on the police station wall for years to come along with, no doubt, a whole variety of suitably ‘witty’ captions.
As he pondered, Les arrived from the opposite direction carrying his usual polythene bags which were chinking loudly with the ‘medicinal anti-freeze’ that got him through the colder parts of the night.
“Wha’s up?” he asked, “By the way, you seen my satchel?”
“No, sorry, Les. In answer to your other question, look: some little toe-rag has pushed this trolley into the lake.”
“Don’t you worry about that; Les’ll take care of it.”
The tramp smiled, pushed the policeman aside and extracted the trolley from several inches of cold and sticky mud. He suddenly bent forward towards the reeds and exclaimed, “’Ere, I’ve found me satchel! Them soddin’ kids must have had fun with it.” Les was so pleased with himself that he nearly fell over backwards in his excitement.
He then searched around in the gathering dark for the scattered contents of the bag, the policeman shining his powerful torch in front of him to help. They scoured the reed bed, with Les occasionally stopping to pick up a piece of paper which he inspected at length.
“Think I’ve got most of it,” Les announced finally, “It’s nuffin to anyone else but it’s precious to me – photos of me family, and some important letters from them.”
“We were very lucky, Les. If the park inspector had seen it first, he would have chucked it all. Anyway, what you going to do with the trolley? I can’t let you leave it here.”
“Nar, course not, I got me a mate who works at the supermarket. Gives me a fiver for every one I takes back.”
Without saying another word, he shoved his bags and satchel into the trolley and set off towards the supermarket, whistling tunelessly through the gaps in his teeth. Just time to catch them before closing and, with any luck, the fiver might get turned into a bottle of cognac or malt whisky which had ‘fallen off a rickety shelf’. That would be nice. Something a bit special to warm himself with as he settled down on his lucky bench.

Review

I think this book might just have turned me into a Clive West fan.  I love stories that have unusual endings or twists.  This book is full of just that.  Each story has a surprise twist.  I loved the one about the female writer and the “Dear John” letter, probably my favorite… or maybe the multiple choice ending that always ended up with the daughter dying.  Sad but interesting.

I give this book 4 out of 5 clouds.

This product or book may have been distributed for review; this in no way affects my opinions or reviews.