Friday, September 9, 2016

Friday's Film Adaption: Shane by Jack Shaefer

The Starrett family’s life forever changes when a man named Shane rides out of the great glowing West and up to their farm in 1889. Young Bob Starrett is entranced by this stoic stranger who brings a new energy to his family. Shane stays on as a farmhand, but his past remains a mystery. Many folks in their small Wyoming valley are suspicious of Shane, and make it known that he is not welcome. But dangerous as Shane may seem, he is a staunch friend to the Starretts—and when a powerful neighboring rancher tries to drive them out of their homestead, Shane becomes entangled in the deadly feud.

This classic Western, originally published in 1949, is a profoundly moving story of the influence of a singular character on one boy’s life.

Chapter 1
He rode into our valley in the summer of ’89. I was a kid then, barely topping the backboard of father’s old chuckwagon. I was on the upper rail of our small corral, soaking in the late afternoon sun, when I saw him far down the road where it swung into the valley from the open plain beyond.
In that clear Wyoming air I could see him plainly, though he was still several miles away. There seemed nothing remarkable about him, just another stray horseman riding up the road toward the cluster of frame buildings that was our town. Then I saw a pair of cowhands, loping past him, stop and stare after him with a curious intentness.
He came steadily on, straight through the town without slackening pace, until he reached the fork a half-mile below our place. One branch turned left across the river ford and on to Luke Fletcher’s big spread. The other bore ahead along the right bank where we homesteaders had pegged our claims in a row up the valley. He hesitated briefly, studying the choice, and moved again steadily on our side.
As he came near, what impressed me first was his clothes. He wore dark trousers of some serge material tucked into tall boots and held at the waist by a wide belt, both of a soft black leather tooled in intricate design. A coat of the same dark material as the trousers was neatly folded and strapped to his saddle-roll. His shirt was finespun linen, rich brown in color. The handkerchief knotted loosely around his throat was black silk. His hat was not the familiar Stetson, not the familiar gray or muddy tan. It was a plain black, soft in texture, unlike any hat I had ever seen, with a creased crown and a wide curling brim swept down in front to shield the face.
All trace of newness was long since gone from these things. The dust of distance was beaten into them. They were worn and stained and several neat patches showed on the shirt. Yet a kind of magnificence remained and with it a hint of men and manners alien to my limited boy’s experience.
Then I forgot the clothes in the impact of the man himself. He was not much above medium height, almost slight in build. He would have looked frail alongside father’s square, solid bulk. But even I could read the endurance in the lines of that dark figure and the quiet power in its effortless, unthinking adjustment to every movement of the tired horse.
He was clean-shaven and his face was lean and hard and burned from high forehead to firm, tapering chin. His eyes seemed hooded in the shadow of the hat’s brim. He came closer, and I could see that this was because the brows were drawn in a frown of fixed and habitual alertness. Beneath them the eyes were endlessly searching from side to side and forward, checking off every item in view, missing nothing. As I noticed this, a sudden chill, I could not have told why, struck through me there in the warm and open sun.
He rode easily, relaxed in the saddle, leaning his weight lazily into the stirrups. Yet even in this easiness was a suggestion of tension. It was the easiness of a coiled spring, of a trap set.

He drew rein not twenty feet from me. His glance hit me, dismissed me, flicked over our place. This was not much, if you were thinking in terms of size and scope. But what there was was good. You could trust father for that. The corral, big enough for about thirty head if you crowded them in, was railed right to true sunk posts. The pasture behind, taking in nearly half of our claim, was fenced tight. The barn was small, but it was solid, and we were raising a loft at one end for the alfalfa growing green in the north forty. We had a fairsized field in potatoes that year and father was trying a new corn he had sent all the way to Washington for and they were showing properly in weedless rows.
Behind the house, mother’s kitchen garden was a brave sight. The house itself was three rooms—two really, the big kitchen where we spent most of our time indoors and the bedroom beside it. My little lean-to room was added back of the kitchen. Father was planning, when he could get around to it, to build mother the parlor she wanted.
We had wooden floors and a nice porch across the front. The house was painted too, white with green trim, rare thing in all that region, to remind her, mother said when she made father do it, of her native New England. Even rarer, the roof was shingled. I knew what that meant. I had helped father split those shingles. Few places so spruce and well worked could be found so deep in the Territory in those days.
The stranger took it all in, sitting there easily in the saddle. I saw his eyes slow on the flowers mother had planted by the porch steps, then come to rest on our shiny new pump and the trough beside it. They shifted back to me, and again, without knowing why, I felt that sudden chill. But his voice was gentle and he spoke like a man schooled in patience.
“I’d appreciate a chance at the pump for myself and the horse.”
I was trying to frame a reply and choking on it, when I realized that he was not speaking to me but past me. Father had come up behind me and was leaning against the gate to the corral.
“Use all the water you want, stranger.”
Father and I watched him dismount in a single flowing tilt of his body and lead the horse over to the trough. He pumped it almost full and let the horse sink its nose in the cool water before he picked up the dipper for himself.
He took off his hat and slapped the dust out of it and hung it on a corner of the trough. With his hands he brushed the dust from his clothes. With a piece of rag pulled from his saddleroll he carefully wiped his boots. He untied the handkerchief from around his neck and rolled his sleeves and dipped his arms in the trough, rubbing thoroughly and splashing water over his face. He shook his hands dry and used the handkerchief to remove the last drops from his face. Taking a comb from his shirt pocket, he smoothed back his long dark hair. All his movements were deft and sure, and with a quick precision he flipped down his sleeves, reknotted the handkerchief, and picked up his hat.
Then, holding it in his hand, he spun about and strode directly toward the house. He bent low and snapped the stem of one of mother’s petunias and tucked this into the hatband. In another moment the hat was on his head, brim swept down in swift, unconscious gesture, and he was swinging gracefully into the saddle and starting toward the road.
I was fascinated. None of the men I knew were proud like that about their appearance. In that short time the kind of magnificence I had noticed had emerged into plainer view. It was in the very air of him. Everything about him showed the effects of long use and hard use, but showed too the strength of quality and competence. There was no chill on me now. Already I was imagining myself in hat and belt and boots like those.
He stopped the horse and looked down at us. He was refreshed and I would have sworn the tiny wrinkles around his eyes were what with him would be a smile. His eyes were not restless when he looked at you like this. They were still and steady and you knew the man’s whole attention was concentrated on you even in the casual glance.
“Thank you,” he said in his gentle voice and was turning into the road, back to us, before father spoke in his slow, deliberate way.
“Don’t be in such a hurry, stranger.”
I had to hold tight to the rail or I would have fallen backwards into the corral. At the first sound of father’s voice, the man and the horse, like a single being, had wheeled to face us, the man’s eyes boring at father, bright and deep in the shadow of the hat’s brim. I was shivering, struck through once more. Something intangible and cold and terrifying was there in the air between us.
I stared in wonder as father and the stranger looked at each other a long moment, measuring each other in an unspoken fraternity of adult knowledge beyond my reach. Then the warm sunlight was flooding over us, for father was smiling and he was speaking with the drawling emphasis that meant he had made up his mind.
“I said don’t be in such a hurry, stranger. Food will be on the table soon and you can bed down here tonight.”
The stranger nodded quietly as if he too had made up his mind. “That’s mighty thoughtful of you,” he said and swung down and came toward us, leading his horse. Father slipped into step beside him and we all headed for the barn.
“My name’s Starrett,” said father. “Joe Starrett. This here,” waving at me, “is Robert MacPherson Starrett. Too much name for a boy. I make it Bob.”
The stranger nodded again. “Call me Shane,” he said. Then to me: “Bob it is. You were watching me for quite a spell coming up the road.”
It was not a question. It was a simple statement. “Yes . . .” I stammered. “Yes. I was.”
“Right,” he said. “I like that. A man who watches what’s going on around him will make his mark.”
A man who watches . . . For all his dark appearance and lean, hard look, this Shane knew what would please a boy. The glow of it held me as he took care of his horse, and I fussed around, hanging up his saddle, forking over some hay, getting in his way and my own in my eagerness. He let me slip the bridle off and the horse, bigger and more powerful than I had thought now that I was close beside it, put its head down patiently for me and stood quietly while I helped him curry away the caked dust. Only once did he stop me. That was when I reached for his saddle-roll to put it to one side. In the instant my fingers touched it, he was taking it from me and he put it on a shelf with a finality that indicated no interference.

When the three of us went up to the house, mother was waiting and four places were set at the table. “I saw you through the window,” she said and came to shake our visitor’s hand. She was a slender, lively woman with a fair complexion even our weather never seemed to affect and a mass of light brown hair she wore piled high to bring her, she used to say, closer to father’s size.
“Marian,” father said, “I’d like you to meet Mr. Shane.”
“Good evening, ma’am,” said our visitor. He took her hand and bowed over it. Mother stepped back and, to my surprise, dropped in a dainty curtsy. I had never seen her do that before. She was an unpredictable woman. Father and I would have painted the house three times over and in rainbow colors to please her.
“And a good evening to you, Mr. Shane. If Joe hadn’t called you back, I would have done it myself. You’d never find a decent meal up the valley.”
She was proud of her cooking, was mother. That was one thing she learned back home, she would often say, that was of some use out in this raw land. As long as she could still prepare a proper dinner, she would tell father when things were not going right, she knew she was still civilized and there was hope of getting ahead. Then she would tighten her lips and whisk together her special most delicious biscuits and father would watch her bustling about and eat them to the last little crumb and stand up and wipe his eyes and stretch his big frame and stomp out to his always unfinished work like daring anything to stop him now.
We sat down to supper and a good one. Mother’s eyes sparkled as our visitor kept pace with father and me. Then we all leaned back and while I listened the talk ran on almost like old friends around a familiar table. But I could sense that it was following a pattern. Father was trying, with mother helping and both of them avoiding direct questions, to get hold of facts about this Shane and he was dodging at every turn. He was aware of their purpose and not in the least annoyed by it. He was mild and courteous and spoke readily enough. But always he put them off with words that gave no real information.
He must have been riding many days, for he was full of news from towns along his back trail as far as Cheyenne and even Dodge City and others beyond I had never heard of before. But he had no news about himself. His past was fenced as tightly as our pasture. All they could learn was that he was riding through, taking each day as it came, with nothing particular in mind except maybe seeing a part of the country he had not been in before.
Afterwards mother washed the dishes and I dried and the two men sat on the porch, their voices carrying through the open door. Our visitor was guiding the conversation now and in no time at all he had father talking about his own plans. That was no trick. Father was ever one to argue his ideas whenever he could find a listener. This time he was going strong.
“Yes, Shane, the boys I used to ride with don’t see it yet. They will some day. The open range can’t last forever. The fence lines are closing in. Running cattle in big lots is good business only for the top ranchers and it’s really a poor business at that. Poor in terms of the resources going into it. Too much space for too little results. It’s certain to be crowded out.”
“Well, now,” said Shane, “that’s mighty interesting. I’ve been hearing the same quite a lot lately and from men with pretty clear heads. Maybe there’s something to it.”
“By Godfrey, there’s plenty to it. Listen to me, Shane. The thing to do is pick your spot, get your land, your own land. Put in enough crops to carry you and make your money play with a small herd, not all horns and bone, but bred for meat and fenced in and fed right. I haven’t been at it long, but already I’ve raised stock that averages three hundred pounds more than that long-legged stuff Fletcher runs on the other side of the river and it’s better beef, and that’s only a beginning.
“Sure, his outfit sprawls over most of this valley and it looks big. But he’s got range rights on a lot more acres than he has cows and he won’t even have those acres as more homesteaders move in. His way is wasteful. Too much land for what he gets out of it. He can’t see that. He thinks we small fellows are nothing but nuisances.”
“You are,” said Shane mildly. “From his point of view, you are.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right. I’ll have to admit that. Those of us here now would make it tough for him if he wanted to use the range behind us on this side of the river as he used to. Altogether we cut some pretty good slices out of it. Worse still, we block off part of the river, shut the range off from the water. He’s been grumbling about that off and on ever since we’ve been here. He’s worried that more of us will keep coming and settle on the other side too, and then he will be in a fix.”
The dishes were done and I was edging to the door. Mother nailed me as she usually did and shunted me off to bed. After she had left me in my little back room and went to join the men on the porch, I tried to catch more of the words. The voices were too low. Then I must have dozed, for with a start I realized that father and mother were again in the kitchen. By now, I gathered, our visitor was out in the barn in the bunk father had built there for the hired man who had been with us for a few weeks in the spring.
“Wasn’t it peculiar,” I heard mother say, “how he wouldn’t talk about himself?”
“Peculiar?” said father. “Well, yes. In a way.”
“Everything about him is peculiar.” Mother sounded as if she was stirred up and interested. “I never saw a man quite like him before.”
“You wouldn’t have. Not where you come from. He’s a special brand we sometimes get out here in the grass country. I’ve come across a few. A bad one’s poison. A good one’s straight grain clear through.”
“How can you be so sure about him? Why, he wouldn’t even tell where he was raised.”
“Born back east a ways would be my guess. And pretty far south. Tennessee maybe. But he’s been around plenty.”
“I like him.” Mother’s voice was serious. “He’s so nice and polite and sort of gentle. Not like most men I’ve met out here. But there’s something about him. Something underneath the gentleness . . . Something . . .” Her voice trailed away.
“Mysterious?” suggested father.
“Yes, of course. Mysterious. But more than that. Dangerous.”

“He’s dangerous all right.” Father said it in a musing way. Then he chuckled. “But not to us, my dear.” And then he said what seemed to me a curious thing. “In fact, I don’t think you ever had a safer man in your house.”

A mysterious drifter helps farmers fight off a vicious gunman.

Release Date: April 23, 1953
Release Time: 118 minutes

Alan Ladd as Shane
Jean Arthur as Marian Starrett
Van Heflin as Joe Starrett
Brandon deWilde as Joey Starrett
Jack Palance (credited as Walter Jack Palance) as Jack Wilson
Ben Johnson as Chris Calloway
Edgar Buchanan as Fred Lewis
Emile Meyer as Rufus Ryker
Elisha Cook, Jr. as Frank 'Stonewall' Torrey
Douglas Spencer as Axel 'Swede' Shipstead
John Dierkes as Morgan Ryker
Ellen Corby as Mrs. Liz Torrey
Paul McVey as Sam Grafton
John Miller as Will Atkey, bartender
Edith Evanson as Mrs. Shipstead
Leonard Strong as Ernie Wright
Nancy Kulp as Mrs. Howells

1953 Academy Awards
Best Cinematography-Color - Loyal Griggs -- Won
Best Actor in a Supporting Role - Brandon deWilde -- Nominated
Best Actor in a Supporting Role - Jack Palance -- Nominated
Best Director - George Stevens -- Nominated
Best Picture - George Stevens -- Nominated
Best Writing, Screenplay - A.B. Guthrie Jr. -- Nominated

AFI's 100 Years... 100 Movies -- No. 69
AFI's 100 Years... 100 Heroes and Villains: Shane, Hero -- No. 16
AFI's 100 Years... 100 Movie Quotes: "Shane. Shane. Come back!" -- No. 47
AFI's 100 Years... 100 Cheers -- No. 53
AFI's 100 Years... 100 Movies (10th Anniversary Edition) -- No. 45
AFI's 10 Top 10 Western -- No. 3

1953 BAFTAs
Best British Film - George Stevens -- Nominated



Author Bio:
Schaefer was born in Cleveland, Ohio, the son of an attorney. He graduated from Oberlin College in 1929 with a major in English. He attended graduate school at Columbia University from 1929-30, but left without completing his Master of Arts degree. He then went to work for the United Press. In his long career as a journalist, he would hold editorial positions at many eastern publications.

Schaefer's first success as a novelist came in 1949 with his memorable novel Shane, set in Wyoming. Few realized that Schaefer himself had never been anywhere near the west. Nevertheless, he continued writing successful westerns, selling his home in Connecticut and moving to Santa Fe, New Mexico in 1955.

In 1975 Schaefer received the Western Literature Association's Distinguished Achievement award.

He died of heart failure in Santa Fe in 1991. Schaefer was married twice, his second wife moving to Santa Fe with him.

Schaefer's novel Monte Walsh was made into a movie in 1970, with Lee Marvin in the title role, and again in 2003 as a TV movie starring Tom Selleck. Shane was also made into a movie and a series.




Infected Waters: A Titantic Disaster by Alathia Paris Morgan

Title: Infected Waters: A Titanic Disaster
Author: Alathia Paris Morgan
Genre: Paranormal Historical, Horror
Release Date: September 7, 2016
Everyone knows the tale of the Titanic…a doomed voyage…here is what actually happened on April 14, 1912. Murder, chaos, and the undead threaten to sink the ship faster than any iceberg.

As a nurse, Nora Ryan was prepared for the common illnesses, but what she discovers instead is an infection modern medicine has yet to name.

Head steward, Jonathan Davis was not expecting to meet Nora and he certainly wasn’t expecting to fight a deadly infection alongside her. As the first victim of this strange illness dies and passengers are rapidly becoming infected; these two strangers must find a way to stop these undead creatures from taking over the ship.

The trip home from England to America becomes hectic for the Lambert family when they overhear startling rumors from their second class stateroom. People are dying, and the dead are taking anyone they can sink their teeth into with them. Will their family make it to their destination or will they be caught in the rising tide of infection that intends to leave no living being behind?

“Aren’t you worried that you could catch whatever he has?” Jonathan asked as he tried not to take a step back in fear.

Pointing to his obvious scrapes, Nora replied, “The only way for this type of infection to spread would be if you had an open wound and it touched yours. I would like to know what caused it though.” Nora rose to empty the water and returned with a bottle of alcohol to cleanse the gashes. “Find someone you can trust. Have him come and hold this man down while I pour this over his wounds. I can’t stitch him up until the infection goes away.” Nora continued to prep by collecting bandages to wrap his legs, chest and shoulder.

Jonathan left to do as she asked. He returned a short time later with two of the men who had helped to carry the patient to the infirmary.

“Keep watch outside, and don’t let anyone inside.” Jonathan warned one of the men. “Now you, grab hold of his arms while I hold his feet,” he commanded his other subordinate.

“Are we ready?” Holding a towel next the patient’s neck to catch any alcohol that dripped, Nora was in place.

“Yes.” They both answered in unison.

“Tightly, now. Even unconscious, his body will react.” Nora began pouring the liquid over the shoulder wounds.

The man simply moaned and shook his head back and forth.

Waiting for his body to recover slightly, Nora moved into position by his chest.

“Lift him up onto his side under the shoulder, and do it gently. I need to make sure I get the entire side of his chest area covered. Quickly, so it doesn’t hurt his other wounds.” Nora knew the wounds on the back of his leg were going to hurt worse since they appeared to be much deeper.

Wincing as the liquid poured out, Nora wasn’t expecting the reaction from the unconscious man.

The scream of pain from the man erupted and Patrick, the man holding his arms, lost hold of him as he jerked. In the process of trying to regain hold of his shoulders, Patrick accidentally pressed on the shoulder with the scratches, causing the man to bite his wrist.

“What the bloody hell?” Patrick yelled as he tried to detach the man’s teeth from his arm. “He won’t let go! Bloody hell, that hurts!”

Jonathan let go of his hold on the man’s feet and leaned forward to pry the man’s teeth from Patrick’s arm.

“Wait. If you rip the teeth away, you’ll cause more damage to his arm.” Nora cautioned as she tried to be gentle.

“Forget what she says. Get this mad man off me now. AGHHH!”

Jonathan reached behind the patient’s head and pinched the base of his neck, causing him to release Patrick’s arm.

Covering the dripping wound immediately, Nora pulled Patrick over to the side. “Press this on it and don’t move.” Turning to get the alcohol and a fresh bandage, Nora didn’t want Patrick to think about what was coming next.

Moving his arm over the basin, Nora sighed as she lifted the bandage to uncover a perfect impression of teeth.

“It’s torn, but not ripped to shreds. Once we get it clean I can stitch it, yet when it heals, the skin will be so tight it might tear either way.”

“Just pour the stuff already. Bandage it up. I’m going to go lie down in my bunk and get drunk,” Patrick stated as he eyed Jonathan, willing him to say anything contrary.

Author Bio:
Alathia is known to those around her for having an a long time love affair/obsession with Dr.Pepper, she has asked to be buried with a can so that it never runs out in the after life. Always bossy, she uses her mothering instincts to help others and share awareness of abuse in child and domestic situations.

A B.S. in History and English gave wings to her vivid imagination in book form. A supportive and loving husband has given her the chance to make her dreams a reality. Their three daughters and three dogs keep her busy while writing is a great way for her to wind down and destress.


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Pre-Order Blitz: Once Upon a Midnight Box Set

Title: Once Upon a Midnight
Authors: Dakota Cassidy, Stephanie Rowe, Renee George
Melanie James, Claudy Conn, Toni Aleo, Kelly Cozzone
Tracey Jane Jackson, A.D. Justice, Julia Mills, Gena D. Lutz
Diane Rinella, Aubree Lane, A.K. Michaels, PM Briede, Jami Brumfield
Amanda Washington, Wynter Daniels, Nicole Garcia, Michele E. Gwynn 
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Expected Release Date: October 11, 2016

**All Proceeds Benefit the Epilepsy Foundation**

**Currently 99cents**
Just in time for Halloween 

20 New York Times, USA Today & Amazon Bestsellers deliver one sizzling anthology to meet all your romantic heat requirements. Jam-packed with alpha males, paranormal hotties, vampires, werewolves, shifters, Greek Gods & More. This limited edition set is sure to be THE box set of the year, so don't miss out!

Stories Included:
Fangs Of Anarchy: Forbidden Alpha by Dakota Cassidy
Worlds and forbidden love collide when vampire biker Irish McConnell and werewolf librarian, Claire Montgomery hunt for a killer.

Dark Wolf Rising (Heart of the Shifter) by Stephanie Rowe
Shifter Cash Burns vanished from her life ten years ago, but when an assassin closes in on Brynn McKenzie, Cash is her only chance to stay alive.

A Shade of Midnight (Midnight Shifters Book 4) by Renee George
With the lives of her two loves on the line, will Mina be forced out of the light of her new life and back into the shade of her past?

Fur Ever Yours by Melanie James
The Fates etched Rafe & Mina's destiny in stone long ago. Now, one twisted wolf seeks to destroy them both. Will he succeed or will Mina and Rafe's bond be strong enough to survive?

Lady X by Claudy Conn
Lady X has to escape her Dark Warlock father. To do so, she travels into the past and slams into a hunky wizard with an agenda.

Broken Pieces by Toni Aleo
From the moment Oceanus von Stein, second-in-command to the Patchwork family, caught sight of Taegan Conner, daughter of the leader of the Wolves, he knew he would never love another. Only now, she has been promised in marriage to another, an arrangement to strengthen her family's alliances--and she gets no say in the matter. Can they find a way to be together, or will they both always be two Broken Pieces?

Fated by Fire by Kelly Cozzone
Gareth Cadell fights to save the survival of his red dragon clan. He -didn't expect to find his soul mate in the process. Can he end up saving them both?

Bound by Secrets by Tracey Jane Jackson
Brodie has waited centuries for his mate and Payton is more than he could have ever expected, particularly when she challenges him at every turn.

The Grudge by AD Justice
Two brothers. Best friends. Immortals. One woman - the subject of their mutual obsession. Immortals can hold a grudge for a very long time.

The Fate of Her Dragon  by Julia Mills
Sleepless nights, a man haunting her every thought, his voice calling, begging, needing...her...
Not even the Universe has the answers and time is running out... 
The Fate of her dragon may be the death of them all!

Created Darkly, a Kris Chase novel by Gena D Lutz
Necromancer Kris Chase's purpose is simple. Blindly raise the dead for the primary elite, selfnecro-governed group, the Center. The problem is, she couldn't care less about what the Center expects from her. Instead, she is more content with snuffing out the life-force from every vile creature she can get her hands on; the same monsters her brethren indiscriminately create... for the right price.

Moonlight Serenade by Diane Rinella
Instead of leading Dale to the woman of his dreams, a psychic guides him to a lucky charm--Glenn Miller's guitar pick. Does the key to Dale's happiness lie with the famous bandleader or the deceased rocker of the same name? Maybe the ghost in the grey fedora knows ...

Catamount Ridge  by Aubree Lane
Exactly what’s happening up on Catamount Ridge was a mystery, but with the mountain lions acting so strange, it fell Jessie and Derek to track down the elusive beasts. The cats odd behavior was troublesome, but Jessie has a bigger problem on her hands. For in the light of day, Derek seems far more dangerous than any normal mountain lion.

The Black Rose Chronicles, Deceit and Lies by AK Michaels
The Black Rose is a highly trained assassin. Her newest assignment is the mysterious, enigmatic and deadly Vampire, Cassius Allarde and she has to decide if he warrants her execution. Will she survive her meeting with the mighty Vampire?

The Fate of Demons by PM Briede
Her entire reality is threatened when Octavia Howard is forced to work with the one creature she fights to protect her home from, demons.

Bear-i-licious Cowboy by Jami Brumfield
Ashlee has given up on love, despite her best friend's insistence that she get back into the game. When she is forced to attend a dating mixer she discovers a world that was hidden from her, a dangerous world full of supernatural creatures she never imagined were real. Tucker is an alpha bear more concerned with protecting his pack than finding a mate, but his goddess has other plans and forces him to choose a woman to call his own.

Lucky Blow by Amanda Washington
When an enslaved demigod earns her freedom, but loses the one thing that matters more, she'll have to join forces with an old flame and steal from a cast of powerful gods to get it back.

Spirited Seduction by Wynter Daniels
Ryan's murdered sister's ghost appears to him to warn him that her friend Emily will be next. Emily shunned her psychic abilities after she became the target of a killer while working with the police years ago, but she can't ignore her friend's dire message from beyond the grave. Despite their differences, passion sizzles between the couple until sinister, unseen forces threaten to tear them apart forever. *previously published

Reckless Descent by Nicole Garcia
Will one fallen angel's drastic mistake result in spending the rest of his eternal life in damnation, or will he be set free from the shackles of Hell and finally experience the love he has always been waiting for?

Darkest Communion by Michele E Gwynn
Torn from his beloved by jealousy, and cursed to walk the night alone for eight-hundred lonely years, a dark and twisted love triangle comes full circle in Bucharest, Romania for a vampire, a gypsy, and the woman they both desire.

**All Proceeds Benefit the Epilepsy Foundation**

Author Bios:
Dakota Cassidy 
Dakota Cassidy is a national bestselling author with over thirty books. She writes laugh-out-loud romantic comedy, grab-some-ice erotic romance, hot and sexy alpha males, paranormal shifters, contemporary kick-ass women, and more. 

Invited by Bravo TV, Dakota was the Bravoholic for a week, wherein she snarked the hell out of all the Bravo shows. She received a starred review from Publisher Weekly for Talk Dirty to Me, won an RT Reviewers Choice Award for Kiss and Hell, along with many review site recommended reads and reviewer top pick awards. 

Dakota lives in the gorgeous state of Oregon with her real life hero and her dogs, and she loves hearing from readers!

Stephanie Rowe
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Stephanie Rowe is the author of more than 40 novels, including her popular Order of the Blade and NightHunter paranormal romance series, and her sizzling new Wyoming Rebels cowboy series about nine rugged brothers. Stephanie is a four-time nominee of the RITA® Award, the highest award in romance fiction. She has won many awards for her novels, including the prestigious Golden Heart® Award. She has received coveted starred reviews from Booklist, and Publishers Weekly has called her work "[a] genre-twister that will make readers...rabid for more."

In additional to her paranormal romances, Stephanie also writes a thrilling romantic suspense series set in Alaska. Publisher's Weekly praised the series debut, ICE, as a "thrilling entry into romantic suspense," and Fresh Fiction called ICE an "edgy, sexy and gripping thriller." Equally as intense and sexy are Stephanie's contemporary romance novels.

A life-long reader, Stephanie began crafting stories at age ten, but didn't realize it was her dream until she was an adult. Once the light dawned, she immediately left behind "work" as the world defines it and went to "work" as she defines it, which means getting up every morning with a smile in her heart so she can spend the day doing that which makes her spirit sing.

Stephanie believes in learning to listen to your heart in order to figure out what your dreams are, and then opening yourself to the inspiration that will direct you there. She believes we all deserve the right to enjoy life, and for the ride to be as easy as we want it to be, and that we all should accept nothing less than making our dreams come true.

Stephanie lives in New England, and spends every day doing her best to fill it with people, observations and activities that uplift her soul, which include writing, hiking with her rescue dog, friends, and her amazing family.

Renee George 
Renee George is a USA Today Bestselling author of urban fantasy, paranormal romance, erotic romance, contemporary romance, and romantic comedies that highlight varying themes including traditional, ménage, gay and bisexual relationships. A published author since 2005, she has written and published over 30 books in the past decade. Accolades include: EcataRomance Award for Best Paranormal Erotic Romance and Best Gay Erotic Romance and a Literary Nymph Blush Award for Best Paranormal Romance.

Melanie James
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, Melanie James spent 14 years as an IT systems administrator before tiring of the hustle and bustle of the technology world. She's doing what she loves, by writing paranormal comedy, steamy paranormal, and contemporary romance books. Melanie has a Bachelor's Degree from the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh in Leadership and Development, with a minor in Women's Studies. She is working on her Master's Degree in Adult Education at the University of Wisconsin-Stout.

Melanie is married to a wonderful man who supports her dreams and goals. She has two children, three step-children, a beautiful daughter-in-law, and an adorable grand-baby. 

Claudy Conn
Some may know Claudy Conn as Claudette Williams/Melanie Davis, two names she used when publishing her regency and historical romances, with Random House, Zebra and Doubleday.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who writes historical and regency romances, has stepped into the world of paranormal romance as well, with her hits such as The Legend Series, Through Time Series and the Shadow Series.

We asked what does she do when she isn't writing and she tells us, she and her hot husband love hiking, swimming, traveling and playing with their variety of animals--wolf Cherokee and her now overgrown hybrid pup, Rocky the Man, included. Her favorite things she says are, chocolate, fries and pizza. 

Toni Aleo 
I am a wife, mother, and hopeless romantic.

I have been told I have anger issues, but I think it's cause of my intense love for hockey!

I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena's glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!

When my nose isn't pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son's hockey games, my daughters dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, and reading the latest romance novel.

I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, and did I mention I love hockey?

I am currently working on Empty Net, and I hope to have it out by November!

I hope to hear from you on here, my Facebook, or my twitter! Thank you so much!

Kelly Cozzone
Kelly Cozzone was born in New Martinsville, WV. After spending 15 years in Myrtle Beach, SC, she finally made it back to her adopted hometown, Austin, TX. 

When Kelly isn't writing the mystery stories she loves, she is following her beloved Texas Longhorns. An avid football fan, she spends her fall months rooting on her favorite teams.

In addition to being an author, Kelly writes for and shares her thoughts and stories that strike a chord in her on her blog. She is a member of the National Association of Professional Women.

Kelly has been happily married to her husband for 20 years and has three children who are her life. 

Tracey Jane Jackson 
New York Times Bestselling Author, Tracey Jane Jackson, was born and raised in New Zealand, and that's where her love of horses was formed. Her grandfather taught her to ride at four years old, and she couldn't get enough.

Her love and passion for Abraham Lincoln and the entire Civil War era might have come from her American father, however, he lays no claim to influencing her. Tracey's mother used to tell her she was simply born in the wrong place in the wrong time.

Tracey hasn't always wanted to write. It took her a long time to get started, but now she doesn't seem to be able to stop, the joy of escaping to the 1860s is too much fun.

She's been happily married and gooey in love with her husband for more than twenty years. They live in the Pacific Northwest with their two sons.

AD Justice 
A.D. Justice is the USA Today best selling author of the Steele Security Series (Wicked Games, Wicked Ties, Wicked Nights, Wicked Intentions), the Crazy Series (Crazy Maybe, Crazy Baby), the Dominic Powers series (Her Dom, Her Dom’s Lesson), and two stand-alone books, Just One Summer and Intent.

When she’s not writing, she’s spending time with her own alpha male character in their north Georgia mountain home. She is also an avid reader of romance novels, a master at procrastination, a chocolate sommelier, a twister of words, and speaks fluent sarcasm. An avid animal lover, A.D. Justice has three horses, two dogs, and one cat.

While the primary focus of her books have been romantic suspense, she has plans to expand into different sub-genres of romance. Stay tuned to read what she has in store for you!

Julia Mills 
Mom of two rockin' girls, Reader of everything, Author of The Dragon Guards series and many more surprises to come!

I am a sarcastic,sometimes foul-mouthed, not afraid to drink a beer, always southern woman with 2 of the most amazing teenage daughters, a menagerie of animals and a voracious appetite for reading who recently decided to write the storied running through her brain. I read my first book, Dr Suess' Cat in The Hat by myself at 4 and was hooked. 

I believe a good book along with shoes, makeup and purses will never let a girl down and that all heroes of all the books 

I have ever read or will ever write pale in comparison to my daddy! I am a sucker for a happy ending and love some hot sweaty sex with a healthy dose of romance.

I am still working on my story but believe it will contain all of the above with as much SPICE as I can work into it. CHEERS!

Gena D. Lutz 
Gena D. Lutz is the USA Today Best Selling author of Sonnet Vale, Paranormal Hunter, which was one of 13 contributions to Romancing the Paranormal: All New Tales. She writes in both the paranormal romance and urban fantasy genres and has five novels currently in publication.

Diane Rinella
Enjoying San Francisco as a backdrop, the ghosts in Diane Rinella's one hundred and fifty-year old Victorian home augment the chorus in her head. With insomnia as their catalyst, these voices have become multifarious characters that haunt her well into the sun's crowning hours, refusing to let go until they have manipulated her into succumbing to their whims. Her experiences as an actress, business owner, artisan cake designer, software project manager, Internet radio disc jockey, vintage rock 'n' roll journalist/fan girl, and lover of dark and quirky personalities influence her idiosyncratic writing.

Aubree Lane 
Aubree Lane lives in the beautiful foothills of Northern California with her husband, two wonderful sons, and a super special peek-a-poo, named Tanner. When not managing the pooper-scooper, Aubree enjoys warm sand, hot sun, and the cool waters of the Pacific.

Her motto: Write Until Your Butt Hurts, and Your Eyes Are Crossed.

AK Michaels
A K Michaels, Ava, is an award winning indie author of Paranormal Romance With A Bite and has several scorching series available.

PM Briede 
I have been a fan of realistic fantasy all my life. The idea of alternate explanations for the mundane, fascinates me. As a woman with deep southern roots, I am not one who is quick to dismiss the otherworldly. However, the idea that our world isn't as big and foreboding as it seems, also plays heavily into my writing.

I am the author of fan favorite cliffhanger series, The Charlotte Grace Series and The Empathy Delacroix Series. I have also written a novel, The Underground.

Jami Brumfield
Jami Brumfield has a passion for the paranormal, supernatural, and mythological worlds for most of her life. She believes there is a kernel of truth in every story and loves playing detective to discover what that hidden truth is. She has written most of her life. She started with poems and short stories, then graduated to journalism working for online websites. It was only a natural progression that her love of writing and her passion for the unknown would combine. Her books are a product of that union. She lives in Arizona with her amazing husband and two fur-babies, Maximus and Zeus. 

Amanda Washington 
Amanda Washington is a lover of animals, books, dark chocolate, and red wine. She's always up for a good adventure (real or fictional), and when she's not building imaginary worlds, she's dipping her toes into reality in southwest Washington with her husband and their boys. 

Wynter Daniels 
Wynter Daniels has penned more than two dozen books in various romance genres including paranormal, romantic suspense and contemporary for several publishers including Entangled Publishing and Carina Press. She lives in sunny Florida with her family and a spoiled cat.

Nicole Garcia
N.Y. Times Bestselling author Nicole Garcia has a degree in Nursing, but has been a stay at home mom for the past 9 years. Her passion is reading and decided to make a career out of sharing her love for books. Writing and promoting has become a full time job for her now. There are so many unknown authors out there that deserve to have their books read by many. So, after promoting for authors for two years, she decided to follow her dreams and start writing her own books. Nicole started writing poetry when she was just a little girl and had always loved the feeling it gave her. Currently she writes steamy Paranormal, Contemporary, and New Adult Romance, but plans to write other genres in the future. Hope you will join her in all the fun ahead. 

Michele E Gwynn
Michele E. Gwynn is a freelance journalist in San Antonio. She writes for newspapers, magazines, and online websites like (under the categories of Film, Animal Rights, and Sex and Relationships), Alwayz Therro Magazine, FashionErotica Digital, and more. She also edits websites and books.

Gwynn has published several books and has three series currently; the Kriminal Erotic Series (crime/detective for 18+); The Harvest Trilogy (Horror/Sci-Fi #UFO series inspired by a true event); and the Angelic Hosts Series (supernatural action/adventure, romance YA & NA). She also has a new Contemporary Romance Short Story - Waiting a Lifetime. Coming to Amazon soon (2015) are the third books in all three series, and her first darkly romantic paranormal vampire novel (title not yet released). The new year will see the publishing of the first full novel in her new series, The Ghosts of Cardiff, Murder in the Vale: The Mystery at Llandaff Cathedral, and the long-anticipated second children's book, The Cat Who Cooked Spaghetti.

Dakota Cassidy

Stephanie Rowe

Renee George

Melanie James

Claudy Conn

Toni Aleo

Kelly Cozzone

Tracey Jane Jackson

A.D. Justice

Julia Mills

Gena D. Lutz

Diane Rinella

Aubree Lane

AK Michaels

PM Briede

Jami Brumfield

Amanda Washington

Wynter Daniels

Nicole Garcia

Michele E. Gwynn

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